A POEM FOR SHARPEVILLE WOMEN
All women are born beautiful as the sun rise;
and come in many earthly colours.
Some are chocolate brown
Others are yellow as the desert
Many are black and beautiful as midnight
while others are pale as the moon.
Sharpeville overflows with woman
of character endowed in African Spirit.
A soul seeking solace may find an answer
to deferred hopes and dreams of matrimony
Right here in the alley ways of Sharpeville.
Though time may
away like autunm leaves
No thinking human being in our blessed land
may be allowed to forget the Sharpeville massacre
And other killings that are helter skelter scattered everywhere
In our country as a result of twenty first of March nineteen sixty.
Our women readiness to die for a heavenly course
transcended Sharpeville women into mortal beings
And made women the vanguard in our liberation
against subjugation by the ruling hegemony of apartheid.
Through their gallant effort of marching alongside
their male comrades demonstrated their latent power
of courage and the heart and the will power
To serve and sacrifice and suffer for motherland.
Many women of yore, who died in Sharpeville that day
their blood flowed from broken veins and arteries
and their blood was washed away by torrential rains
into likwe the river of no return that meanders
to distance horizons of our native land,
where the oracle yabadimu and ancestors is hidden from all.
To the mother less children who were left behind in Sharpeville
to loiter in the dim wood of distress without a Mosel of bread
must echoe to the hearts and minds of current leaders
That our martyrs must resonate in all our endearment
Till the plight of women who died that day! Be cast in bold letters.
That acclaims womanhood to be humanhood and more
and are the main source of inspiration to gods eight day of creation.
As the tribe of Sharpeville women continue to embark
on procreation and increase and multiply our society.
Every time our flag is raised to celebrate
a brand new day in our country
We shall always remember Sharpeville women
time at the cross for our liberation of today
Let all the sons and daughters of our nation
acclaim them with sweet sounding words
of Margaret Walker that reads:
Let a beauty full of healing
and strength of final clenching
be the pulsing in our spirits and our blood.
Let the martial songs be written,
Let the dirges disappear,
Let a race of men and women
now rise and take control !
Thank you to you sis Letta Mbulu Semenya for requesting me to jot down these few lines on behalf of the women in Sharpeville, who gave their life for the children of tomorrow. It was indeed a great honor for me coming from sis Letta who has weaved many songs that elevate the mind about our objective conditions in our rainbow nation to people around the world.