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Esethu Mahlumba May 2016
AZANIA
I Azania ikruqukile kukubanjwa
I Azania idiniwe ziimbumbulu ezisuka kutshaba
I Azania  iphelelwe ngamandla okubamba iintlanganiso
Iminyaka elandelelanayo kungekho nkqubela phambili
I Azania iphalele ngoku kukusebenzela nina, mabhulu,bantu abamhlophe.ABELUNGU.
Pha ezidolophini
I Azania idikiwe kukunigrumbela igolide
I Azania ifuna ukugrumbela iintsana zayo igolide
I Azania idiniwe, I Azania idiniwe
I Azania ikruqukile kukudanduluka kunye nokulila.
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.
I see life in grey,
Where black does not stand alone without white,
Where the melanin of my skin does not factor as to how society sees me,
Where Mother’s language that rolls from my tongue is never labeled.


The only struggle I should face is between the relationships
I try to mount
...between pen and paper
…between my head and my heart.
Where common sense should trump any and every stereotype,
Where the only thing foreign is the knowledge I am yet to acquire,
Or the journeys I am yet to trudge upon.


Borne of the soil that bears some of the greatest fruits,
I am one of Her many blessings,
An Afrikan princess that is still rising to her majestic throne,
That seeks to reign over a land united
Behind the death of the rainbow;
The rebirth of decolonialism.
And casts all children of the corn of these chains,
Golden bronze bonds
That continue to enslave the people of true liberty, and prosperity.
The liberty that ascertains that no man shall ever be consumed
By their hunger for superiority.

For

I AM because WE ARE!
This is a collaborative effort between myself and @NuBlaccSoul which is to commemorate Human Rights Day (21 March)
Kabelo Maverick Jul 2014
"Born 20120718 08h00 AM"


Here’s to my new-born child of the Pharaohs, I swear, no more news on the kind of a farrow. Colour of the Soil, you fill my heart with a new Love unknown. See the Colour of the Oil that fills the Art your true bloodline own. You’re the Oasis of the world, so beware of greeks bearing gifts closely. Amongst the many faces of the world, beware of these wearing sheep’s clothing. They’ve stripped Mother Africa of her identity and buried her alive, Brothers and Sisters, Nubia and Kush. I trip on Azania and her density burning in silence, oh my blisters…not another Minister media pushed. That’s why you have to be my winning goal in this game defense, call her crazy because her Name deepens, But that’s for those not willing to know where they came, **Princess...
MVRK
Ralph Akintan Dec 2018
Your love waited so long.
Your affection waited too long.
Promises in abeyance.
Dying in anxiety of expectations
Ozone layer could not hold rays
      of Azania's sun.
Emitting fire of hysterical
      jubilations.

Arrival in hold, mistily shrouded
      in mystery.
But one day, one moment,
One belief, one fulfillment ,
Appearance announced
       unnoticed.

Wait no more for so long.
Wait no more for too long.
Reality eclipsed empty promises
Arrival overturned unbelief,
In the enclave of Azania.
In the bowel of rainbow.
ConnectHook Apr 30
From streetcorner pulpits near and far.
We’re watering wisdom’s seed with fear.
If your melanin’s under par,
Slave-trader heathen, listen here:
God’s own holy unpronounceable name
Now translated for you: Whites Are To Blame.

King JAMES was black. You heard it first
From me—before those Israelites
Began to preach to the accursed
Of Edom (meaning heathen whites).
So, his authorized text is meant
Only for those of true Hebrew descent.

No flaming redhead Scottish king
Was he who bore Azania’s crown
Upon his brow. It’s time to bring
The truth. James Stuart? Dusky brown.
No bagpipes here, nor usquebaugh, nor oats.
Just afro-polyrhythm’s gladsome notes.

Mansa Musa filled his coffers;
Sub-Saharan James grew wealthy;
More than Solomonic offers
Kept King James both wise and healthy.
No puppet monarch for Britannic schemes
But African sage, of vision and dreams.

ELIZABETH, of Albion’s fame,
Was also misperceived for hue.
A white rose, yes. But only in name.
Pure African was she—it’s true!
You’ve been lied to about these royal folks;
High time we rewrite such ethnic jokes.

Don’t believe the Edomite hype.
They want to keep our tribes suppressed--
And Moses is our prototype;
His law we follow, and we’re blessed.
REAL understanding: it’s something you earn.
Once gained, ain’t no trick you cannot discern.

No context needed. History
Is mainly Edomite propaganda.
King JAMES was black. No mystery.
And Edinburgh’s in Uganda.
The first king of Scotland will not be last…
Our exegesis is unsurpassed.
usquebaugh: noun
A compound distilled spirit made in Ireland and Scotland; whisky.

— The End —