Monday, April 7, 2014

From Cape to Cairo, a Poem


Gaze not at me in petty askance
Hold your greasy misgivings in abeyance
Ply first the highlands of the Berbers
Toasted, knitted with the Bedouin guitar rockers
Follow Nile to meet the Acholi
Spread wings flap in the face of Sahel herdsmen
Take your time; there is no hurry in Africa

Munch my chapatti to clear the Hashish you been on
Flee not from the egwugwu, the beastly masked man is my son
Brought your liniment to oil your waist after Rhumba at Kinshasa?
All-white party in Zanzibar, and gaudy clothing in the Masai land
Enter the Savannah the land of game and no sand
From elephants to ants via small rats

Learn the Swahili and Bemba while you can,
Get ready to be haunted by the clicks of Gauteng
Sashay along the beautiful lakes
Enjoy the sight of ladies at my beaches, Africa the land of no fakes

Of course you saw my babies fight
And the women clasping babies fleeing in fright
Nail me not for the daily woes I harbour
War, schisms and all my -isms
They are but my woes, don’t just laugh, help
I am Africa – from Cape to Cairo

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