Put Fire They Said. Poem by Sarah Mkhonza

Put fire says a slogan old by men as
They work on the railway tracks.
They work the metal breaks of trains,
Their little carrier on the rail,
They push daily and look into each
And every wheel, to make sure
That the goods get as far as needed.

I walk on the rails to give them tea,
Huge red and white flask with lines
Running down with a lid closed to
Keep the warmth of the tea in there,
And then sit and wait for my being,
There means the break has to begin.

My father orders a stop for he must
Join me, in my wait and make it short
For a girl on the tracks is just another
Trip to the world of men, where I jump
On railway slippers with legs long,
As the girl who can work in tomorrow's world
For I can make tea.

I sit and look at trains crossing lines
And spitting their steam into the air,
For these are the days of the steam
Engine, that runs on fire all the way
Taking ore to the ships that send it,
As far as Japan. Toyotas begin to
Trickle into our world and we do not
Know that our ore will one day lose
Worth, for the grade is going down,
To a place where all this has to stop.

The railway workers move to other towns,
For the trains cannot run all the way,
When the ore is lower graded far away,
For life changes when the buyer cannot
Gain what the seller wants to give,
Even at a low price of nothing, to keep people
At work.

So we spread our wings as our livelihood,
Shrinks to nothing for now only those
Who seek wisdom in books, can sell their
Labor while the railway workers get
Retrenched, for life has come to an End.

Gone are the days of Portuguese workers,
Who knew no English but just one phrase
'Put fire', for welding brakes onto the
Wheels of the trains needed just that
One phrase. Put fire, they did, until no wheels
Were there, in which the fire could go.
Such is the job that is done by a worker,
Taught the skill that keeps the railway
Running.