Tag Archive: Oliver Reginald Tambo
1.
when rancid racism strikes,
in cocooned fungal minds, narrow, superficially deep,
an insidious venom begins to seep,
into the consciousness of the chattering ones as they sleep.
2.
beliefs held so true, so deep,
stripped of feeling,
empty, hollow, feigned, designed, branded compassion,
feeds conceit in chests swollen with righteous passion.
3.
the racism once firmly entrenched,
enveloping all, a comforting shawl,
needs little to fester, to mutate,
into doctrines of superiority, bigotry, hate.
4.
are we guilty of succumbing to this virulent plague?
sipping martinis, shovelling more, always more onto heaving plates,
falling, slipping into inebriated moments, without care,
as the stench of hate, prejudice, racism,
floats in the evening air.
_______
Amandla!
The Struggles Continue … … …
Comrade Chris Hani
double-helixed uBuntu.
these interwoven veins,
dna,
double-helixed,
microscopic,
binding us, all of us,
together, as one,
species, one race,
human,
me & you
us,
all,
through
this common
shared
truth:
‘I am because you are’*
all of us
together
as one
me & you = uBuntu*
* – uBuntu is an isiXhosa/isiZulu concept that espouses the “belief in a universal bond of sharing that connects all humanity”
We forget the newly independent Tanzania, Zambia, and other ‘Front line States’ in the struggle against Apartheid tyranny.
We forget the burdens they shouldered as they embodied the very essence of that very humane of philosophies – uBuntu – I am because we are.
We forget the Apartheid foe foment civil-wars in Mozambique by incubating Renamo as a counter-revolutionary force against Frelimo.
We forget Unita in Angola battling the MPLA.
We forget Koevoet in Namibia fighting SWAPO.
We forget The Battle of Cuito Cuanavale.
We forget The Wankie Campaign.
We forget …
We forget much.
Pandit-Ji* – A Poem for Jawaharlal Nehru
1.
The moon cast an enveloping shadow over the teeming multitudes,
as they made their tryst with destiny**,
with you as the bearer of the light,
and at the stroke of the midnight hour,
you emerged an icon, from the long and desolate night.
Long years had passed,
since those humid evenings spent,
languishing in jail,
yet your mind remained unshackled,
putting words on paper in the dim candlelight,
as the gaudy glare of empire began to pale.
2.
Today,
you live,
within us,
though not amongst us,
and,
your discovery,
your glimpses,
smoulder within me,
your immortal words,
my compass.
I am now,
the soul of nations,
once suppressed,
that have,
found utterance.
I am now,
me.
I am now,
finally,
free.
* – ‘Pandit-Ji’ was the name that Jawaharlal Nehru, the first Prime Minister of independent India, was respectfully called.
** – excerpts from Jawaharlal Nehru’s speech on 15th August 1947
Scribbled Verse 