“There are cemeteries that are lonely, graves full of bones that do not make sound, the heart moving through a tunnel.” Pablo Nerudu.

The cemetery will benefit, it will be rich in thoughts and quantity.

 

Dear Dipuo, you never said good bye

You never said a word to us the extended family whom you invited because of your love for Blackness.

We became your family because of the love you had for the people of your pigmentation, the people who are slave in their own land.

You ran your race; you wrestled the atrocities institutionalized on the Black body.

You stood for the rights of women and children

You spoke against the degradation and belittling of women.

You stood firm against those who body shame women and children with disability.

Your wisdom and intellect build many of us in a distance.

We were part of your life, because you choose to make us your children.

There is nothing as painful as losing a parent, someone who brought you to this world and when such person is taken away by death; your world become shattered.

 In this world where males have become enemies of Black females

 Black males have become monsters; and thrive on the blood of their own.

 In this world where all people care about is their selfish self, it is emotional that you leave behind a daughter and son.

You left us a treasure, the Treasure you named Lesego Malaika Samora Mahlatsi.

We shall forever cherish the moments we shared with you.

We will always remember the revolutionary spirit and the love you had for our people.

The roots of love and revolution you left in us will for remain.

 

Etlela hi ku rhula.

The love you hated the borders created by colonialist hence you did not hesitate to name your children with names of Africa’s greatest leaders. Lumumba and Samora.

In times of Afrophobia and Xenophobia you led in teaching our people that, Africans are of same blood.

Hail the African Queen.

In your Tomb, there shall be unwritten message of love from all of us; the people who cared about you.

I never thought or imagine standing near your grave soon; I thought you were going to grow old and walk Malaika and Lumumba’s kids.

I thought of you as grandmother to my own children; you teaching them about the importance of food.

You teaching about that raw honey from Mozambique

You will teach about the importance of that cassava from Zambia.

Rifu u na Nsele(Death)

You took away the pearl that made our aspiration for revolution to thrive.

You took away the a sage

You did not inform us that you will steal the jewel of our hearts.

You did not inform us that you death, you will inflict the emotional pain as you have done.

Our tears

We cry the tears of blood because what has gone is valuable to us.

We cry and wish that one day, when Africa is free from the shackles of colonialism; our God will resurrect the people we love and we shall live happily for eternity.

 

Hamba kahle, robala ka Khotso.

 

By Ntsako Shivambu   

 

 

 

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