Charmaine Mandivenga

The statistics are too far gone to claim: us
Me and the girls that carry my anguish
Sometimes I want to find someone to blame
Someone to imprison with guilt or at the every least point a finger at…

Lethal injection and incomplete confession
They will never know what’s in my heart
They say it’s just like being at the dentist
Just a prick that will end this

It is not this drug that is killing me
It’s the syringe of truth and unfortunate coincidence
That most prisons are half-filled with black men
A common phenomenon
We are less than a quarter of the population
So tell me if these are not our homes
For like the ships they hold more

Love is not what they claimed inhabited our relationship
It was desire masquerading as adorement
I spit in the face of tough love
This was not love when you left me
Outside in the rain; umbrella-less
You walked on
Made me choose between my divine path and you
Love is what warms me when I am alone
It screams my name and hugs me
Wipes my tears and tells me to laugh hard
Because it is my audience of one
Smiles when I leave its more

30 years ago we walked free
Liberated from Rhodesia, we claimed Zimbabwe
Said goodbye to Ian Smith
Welcomed Robert Mugabe and hope
Ha! Would it not be the joke of the century?
One once said a bitter heart beats to a vindictive heart
The heart of this now malnourished beast
Is the war veteran – Mr Mugabe
Come to save the Zim natives from the white man
As it were – until he lost the plot
You point one finger but
My friend there’ more