Poem To Africa's Greatest Son by Lesedi Evans Shumba

Gone too soon

Always will be remembered

I will cherish your loyalty to Africa

until the day I also see you sited somewhere beside

Peter, Mahatma, Martin and Teresa

I could have sworn I felt the ground shake

When your soul escaped form the body it was kept

I could hear the sounds and celebrations of the jubilations in hell

last night when the world wept -

the angel has gone where he belongs.

Hope they tell me where they bury you

so I come and lie down near you and listen to all your stories

Stories of how you and your comrades marched down the streets towards the enemy

Ran Soweto carrying nothing but banners

the only bullets you had was the shouts of 'freedom'.

How did you really feel when you drank coffee

with the same men who put you in cages?

I bet they almost died of your brutal, unconditional forgiveness.

Dear Nelson

Take thy place as God's greatest grandson

Bring thy head forward to receive your crowning as Africa's greatest son

Twinkle, Twinkle little African star

How I wonder why so soon.

Wish I could put your spineless spirit in a bottle

Then drink it until my heart burst.

One last time

fold your fist hard, bang in the air

Just like how you used to stand in the crowd saying:

"The greatest glory in living lies not in never falling but in rising every time we fail"

Your enemies and even your dearest comrades

have tied to destroy you but failed each time

You are a lion with nine lives and a thousand hearts.

Wish I could write 10000 words

each for each day you spent in prison

I know you will shred your soul into a thousand pieces

then drop it into the hearts of all the

Leaders of the world, then maybe they would know

how to really treat their people.

Nineteen years ago you made a nation

out of a notion you strongly held.

Nineteen years ago I was born free,

Your hustle was not, just meant for Africa to see

Your courage was like a virus

which I tested positive.

Looked into your eyes and saw a thousand pictures

I Take your soul and make a thousand copies

One great leader is worth a thousand dictators

The giant has closed its eyes

for the world to open its minds and souls

I am a present of the past

Because you made your present not resentment over the past

but the refurbishment of the future,

My future.

Christmastime in America

You see the oddest things 

at Christmastime in America.

The bigger the city, 

the stranger the sights.

I was driving downtown 

to buy gifts for the family 

and enjoying bouquets

of beautiful people

bundled in big coats

and colorful scarves

clustered on corners,

shopping in good cheer

amid petals of snow 

dancing in the sun. 

One of them, however,

a beautiful young lady,

had stopped to take issue 

with an old woman in a shawl

picketing Planned Parenthood.

The old woman was riding

on a motor scooter 

designed for the elderly.

She held a sign bigger

than she was and kept

motoring back and forth

as resolute as my aunt

who had been renowned 

for protesting any injustice.

Saving seals in the Antarctic 

had been very important to her.

On this day, however, 

the beautiful young lady

who had taken issue

with the old woman  

was livid and screaming.

She marched behind 

the motor scooter and 

yelled at the old woman 

who appeared oblivious

to all the commotion.

Maybe she was deaf,

I thought, like my aunt.

That can be an advantage

at a time like this.

The letters on the sign were huge

but I couldn't read them

so I drove around the block

and found a spot at the curb.

It turned out the sign said,

"What might have happened

if Mary of Nazareth 

had been pro-choice?"

Now I understood 

why the young lady

was ranting and raving

and why the old woman

kept motoring to and fro.

At Christmastime in America

people get excited,

more so than usual.

When I got home 

I hid my packages 

and told my wife at supper

what I had seen.

I also told her that if Mary 

had chosen otherwise,

I wouldn't have had 

to go shopping today.

That's obvious, she said.