Kalinga- linga
A daughter of revolution fed on rich political nutrition
With a smile bandaging scars of the streets and falsehood by political demons
...
Dawn Rising
see many voices rising with the sun
sharp spears of the sun, undulating with coming freedom
...
Identity Apples
I am a fat skeleton, resurrecting
From the sad memories of dada
...
Kakinga- Kalinga.
Kalinga- linga
A daughter of revolution fed on rich political nutrition
With a smile bandaging scars of the streets and falsehood by political demons
Fingers burnt in pseudo democratic pans of the West, what a political humor
I see you smelling love through the thick dew of corruption and robots
True heroes and heroines swallowed up in the deep silence of chingwere and uzambwera
[Cemeteries of the poor]
Leopold hill shadows faking dances to the throbbing rhythms of vumbuza drums
Kalinga- linga- your rising sun will soon spread the beauty of its fingers in the skies of Afrika