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Nikita Tshawe Apr 2021
Azania, malibuye izwe lwethu.
Mayibuye iAfrika, izwe lwethu

Africa, where have you gone?
Africa, what happened to you?

We breathe poverty.
27 years into liberty.
Yet, not much has changed.
The black man remains estranged.
No land, no wealth.
No access to health.
The black man is educated and unemployed.
His voice is meaningless and void.
The black man is a criminal.
Not a trustworthy individual.

Azania. Libuya nini izwe lwethu?
Ibuya nini iAfrika yethu?

Africa, where have you gone?
Africa, what happened to you?

Where is the black child's fortune?
When does he get to sing a happy tune?
When does he move out of the small shack?
When does he get his ancestors' land back?
No one will hire him, he doesn't own a car.
He lives too far.
He's below the par.
Where he's from, there's no tar.
His shoes pick up clouds of dust.
Victim to a system so unjust.

Azania. Libuya nini izwe lwethu?
Ibuya nini iAfrika yethu?

Africa, where have you gone?
Africa, what happened to you?

Our mothers know nothing but pain.
They wipe kitchens spotless, all in vain.
Our fathers toil in the gardens.
Prayers have become burdens.
Government officials care for nothing but their pockets.
While we cry tears filling buckets.
Is this the Africa we fought for?
Is this the freedom we fought for?
Africa is singing a burning weep.
Her sorrows run deep.

She is asking, "what about my children?"
"What will become of them?"
She can't bear to see it.
Unite Africa with her children.
She longs to see them prosper.
Africa loves her children.
They don't deserve to suffer any longer.
From the hands of the ruthless ruler.
They are her pride and joy.
She wants to see them enjoy,
Her rich soil.
Profit from her natural oil.
Her pure silver.
Her dazzling diamonds.
Her excellent copper.
Her soft gold.

Abantwana base Afrika mabaphile.
Inhlupheko yase Afrika mayiphele.

iAfrika mayibuye.
Mayibuye iAfrika.
a Sep 2018
Hues of gold hug the horizon,
The air is heavy with the scent of a rainy day,
A pride of lions moves its limbs with a motion of might,
A motion of magic precedes the pack.

A dragonfly bounces along the river of relief,
The sun sets its final shimmer of sophistication
Behind the silhouette of a striking baobab.

A pocket of air holds the wings of the stork in a mathematical manner,
as it sweeps over of the plateau of promise.

South Africa,
A nation in progress,
Where each combination of skin tones each have a story to tell of its own,
a story of history,
a story of might.

Long live the pride of lions,
the Giants of our Rainbow Nation who sow seeds of sunshine in every corner of the soil.
Nkosi Sikelel' iAfrika.
- this poem is dedicated to my country, South Africa. May we become a nation of prosperity and light regardless of race, religion or creed. Let us honor the legacy of our forefathers and emerge as strong and beautiful in every sphere of our existence.

— The End —