Doomsday-time scenarios - elections looming,
end-of-life-as-we-know-it prophecies lead the
electorate to contemplate the dark landscape -
should we not vote at all or for the wrong party,
the rich should be so ashamed they’d pay one-
off tax ransoms to uplift the poor, schools, jobs
And service delivery while government gets in
first, money to finish Nkandlagate then victory
to celebrate, the rest might be used - possibly
by committees to only sit for fifteen years, well,
if we’re lucky - to deliberate improving plans to
educate the very poor - and then a few cents
Might be given them - if the committees feel
magnanimous, you can never tell and cynical
minds only debilitate whatever good might’ve
come from it, and the State to confiscate half
of all the farms and prescribe minimum wage
requiring every man who offers employment
To pay them all bankrupting sums, the goose
laying golden eggs is in wrong hands so lets
kill it, eat its entrails as that’ll show investors
overseas what we think; without golden eggs
we’ll simply drift in the happy way Africa was
meant to be - a rich king with subjects living
In abject poverty where they’ll hold him in high
esteem while bowing to his will and in this way
everyone will share equally; hooray for election
day, for having nightmares of general strikes &
the country sliding down the drain in the wake
of the energising, electrifying Nkandlagate
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem