By Sandy Botha.
All the world leaders stood with pride,
On that day when Rhodesia died.
They congratulated themselves on a job well done,
As Zimbabwe was born with the rising sun.
And the drums beat so very loud,
As Mugabe addressed the eager crowd.
He said "we've won our freedom today,
He said "I'm president and I'm here to stay",
And he made wild promises about the way,
That Zimbabwe would change on it's very first day.
Towns were renamed and streets were too,
Every time an African leader passed through.
And the cheering of the crowd as they danced in delight,
As Mugabe lit the "Heroes Acre" light.
Mercedes were ordered, they couldn't have enough,
They knew they deserved them as the fight had been tough,
The West would pay for them so they didn't need to worry,
The aid was pouring in they had to spend it in a hurry.
Mugabe was important now, he'd even met the Queen,
And of the whole world there was little left unseen.
But still Mugabe felt ill at ease,
What if someone else his power did seize.
The Matabele leaders had to go first,
It was for their blood that Mugabe did thirst.
And the whites that remained were a thorn in his side,
What to do about them he needed to decide.
But what had actually changed in the ordinary men's lives?
As a future for their children they did strive.
Inflation had spiralled out of control,
And on these people it took its toll.
And when there was a rumbling of discontent,
It was always the army that in he sent,
He silenced the people who didn't agree,
That he'd done a good job since Zimbabwe was free.
He had to find someone else to blame,
So he started his land seizure game,
So he kicked the white farmers off the land,
So many farms now idle they stand.
Farm workers jobs have all gone now,
And they wonder how they'll make a living somehow.
And now as children starve and die,
The people of Zimbabwe hang their heads and cry.
Elections were held but what a farce,
The results were in before the first vote was cast.
And as food aid continues to pour in,
Mugabe commits the ultimate sin.
For as people get to the front of the queue,
They have to prove that to Mugabe they're true.
For if they don't have a ZANU PF card.
Then its empty handed that they leave the yard.
And the leaders of the world stand by and sigh,
As they see the people of Zimbabwe die.
Why can't they admit that they made a mistake,
Why can't they do something for Zimbabwe 's sake.
And I wonder what stories the old people tell,
Of the time before they were living in hell.
Of a time when work was plentiful,
And the children were happy and their bellies were full.
Of days before they lived under a dictator so cruel,
In the days before they fought for Majority Rule...
And will we South Africa a similar fate endure?
Will we be able to learn from our sister nation and find a cure?
For it seems we too are caught, in the very same trap lured.
Pulled into a vortex of hatred, poverty and horrific crimes.
Now foreign investors laugh at our gold turned to dimes.
Do we still cheer on our liberation and freedom?
Or are we weeping, bereft, swept into the same tide of depression?
Oh South Africa, see you not your sister nation's demise?
Do you not know that the world has not heard their cries?
For neither will they hear ours, closing their ears and shutting their eyes.
Already our bellies grumble and groan.
Food on our shelves afforded by many only by taking out a loan.
Caught in our own trap of entitlement and demand,
We submit to our new rulers every command.
Tyranny and dictatorship now fools us all
Like a macabre dance at the Devil's ball.
Socialism and Communism has swept us off our feet,
Only to whisk us away to our own certain defeat.
A Citizen's Perspective
20 March 2013
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