Sunday, September 5, 2010

AMANDLA!


(Dedicated to all the heroes and heroines and martyrs who fought against and slew the dragon Apartheid. Viva Azania!)

[Benikuphi ma madoda (where were the men)
abantwana beshaywa (when the children were throwing stones)
ngezimbokodo Mabedubula abantwana (when the children were being shot)
Benikhupi na (where were you?) Hugh Masekela (Soweto Blues)]

I was there,
on Robben Island,
when the fortress walls surrendered
and the dungeon doors collapsed
and the fetters burst asunder
at the feet of the Madiba
as they walked from Victor Verster.
And the people cried, "Amandla!"

You can take me,
you can take me,
take me out from Africa
but
you can never,
you can never,
take Africa out from me.

I was there,
down in Soweto,
when they exiled Masekela
and they Branded Abdullah
and they banned Miriam Makeba;
when they banned, then detained, Walter
as they hounded Winnie 'Dela.
And the people cried," Amandla!"

You can take me,
you can take me,
take me out from Africa
but
you can never,
you can never,
take Africa out from me.

I was there,
in Soweto, ho!
when the bullets flew and hummed
and they murdered Steve Biko
and they mowed the children down;
when they relocated blacks
with stray bullets in their backs.
And the people cried, 'Amandla!"

I was there,
down there in Sharpeville,
when they massacred the children,
armed with stones against the Sten;
when PAC formed the Poqo
and ANC formed Umkhonto.
And the people cried, "Amandla!"

You can take me,
you can take me,
take me out from Africa
but
you can never,
you can never,
take Africa out from me.

I was there,
down in Angola,
when the fearless Fidelista,
side by side, with the Namibians,
stood their ground against P. Botha,
cracked his crocodilian armour,
as they drove apartheid back.
And the people cried, "Amandla!"

You can take me,
you can take me,
take me out from Africa
but
you can never,
you can never,
take Africa out from me.

I was there,
on Robben Island,
when de Klerk capitulated
and the dungeon doors collapsed
and the fetters burst asunder
at the feet of the Madiba
as they walked from Victor Verster.
And the people cried, "Amandla!"

Amandla! Amandla!
And the people cried, "Amandla!"
Amandla! Amandla!
And the people cried, "Amandla!"...

Copyright ©2010 by G. Newton V. Chance

1 comment:

anayajahzara said...

Enjoyed this read.I appreciate the fact that it's not centered around one person (dela-centricity), and that you hold regard for the heroes and heroines throughout the struggle. I hope to make the trip to South Africa in 2011 God-willing, as my boyfriend lives out in Johannesburg. Excited.

My photo
George Newton Vivian Chance (Trinidad and Tobago) -- member of the Poet Society of Trinidad and Tobago, http://poetssocietytt.blogspot.com/ and the World Poets Society, http://world-poets.blogspot.com/ -- born in Tobago on 3rd March 1957. While residing at Rio Claro was inspired to write over a hundred poems at the turn of the Millennium. Hobbies include playing wind instruments, building computers, observing nature, reading and writing poetry. Believes that the power of a song is in its ability to evoke emotions by the marriage of lyric and music but that music without lyric can be just as powerful, that lyric without music can also be just as powerful, that there is music in the lyric and that lyric can be simple yet profound. Also, in this the age of computers, would like to model his lines after simple and efficient code and, analogous to Object Oriented Programming, achieve most of his imagery from nouns and verbs, avoiding the bloat and excess of unnecessary adjectives. This is what he aspires to attain in his poetry.

I've known rivers:
I've known rivers ancient as the world and older
than the flow of human blood in human veins.

My soul has grown deep like the rivers.

I bathed in the Euphrates when dawns were young.
I built my hut near the Congo and it lulled me to sleep.

I looked upon the Nile and raised the pyramids above it.
I heard the singing of the Mississippi when Abe Lincoln
went down to New Orleans, and I've seen its muddy bosom turn
all golden in the sunset.

I've known rivers:
Ancient, dusky rivers.

My soul has grown deep like the rivers.

by Langston Hughes

the poet writes the poem;
the reader gives it life
(© G. Newton V. Chance)
Make somebody happy (© Alexander Ligertwood & Carlos Santana)

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