Lost In Transformation Poem by Koketso Nonyane

Lost in transformation

They yelled, with voices that carry diamonds of hope: "freedom"
Tears that once cracked through the wounds sown deep into the veins of the oppressed
Tore through into air blown by horns of a revolution
Poverty streamed afar by rivers flowing in the minds of renewed believers
"Today we are achievers, our government deliverers"
A world unknown stared into the bleeding eyes of a once burdened land
A nation once crippled gathered the strength to stand
For Apartheid had come to an end

Twenty-one years later,
The reality of many is defreezed by the death of promises once roped into their hearts
Children are drugged by the possibility of failure as their ultimate probability
The broom that swept away oppression sweeps dust of stagnancy into township homes
Capitalism booms and spews aside democratic norms

I asked mama:
‘Why are children flushed from wombs to tombs
‘Is democracy an omen to women who don't find hope after whispering "amen"? '
Her conscience whispered with silent coughs of disgust towards such women
But her eyes were dressed with enduring sympathy for their circumstance
She said reality kicks the drums of women during the devil's dance
"Didn't I tell ya these rights brew the storm of society's disgrace?
"Women no longer know their place, freedom burnt their souls in many ways
Their bodies have become jewellery to be bought and embraced"

Democracy is tortured by the blues of two opposing realities
The one side is privileged and the other breathes through frailties
The one side has children chewing mince of proper education
The other vomits liquor brewed by a system that gives them no attention

Young black children glare into rich men's houses,
Holding guns on their hands
Murmuring schemes to unlock funds,
hidden deep within the metal of safes
Just so they can feed their grandparents, who await the chains that death warrants
Because they starve in hunger, in shacks which don't protect them from thunder,
Health detrimental, sewerage water rubs away their thirst
A gun shot holds the neighbourhood's fear hostage
Acting in bravery, these children make their way in
Shivering in fear and in sin, they enter a world that's been awaiting
Poetic Justice, the stone that sits steady between these boy's perception of right or wrong
The next morning, a family is in mourning
Lawyers argue for murder,
Forgetting the trooping realities that triggered the weather
Democracy defines such prisoners as poisoners of freedom who should rot in filth
But many prisoners lay not an ounce of psychological guilt
They did wrong things, for the right reasons,
Unlike politicians who say right things, for the wrong reasons

They did wrong things, for the right reasons,
Unlike politicians who say right things, for the wrong reasons

The ashes of democracy's failures are swallowed by the poor
How do the rich pay thousands of rands for a ‘Soweto Tour? '
Whilst the starving die every hour
Democracy is a sky that's clustered by grey clouds and day to day eclipses,
Filled with empty promises, and trauma that even a blind man witnesses
That's why our educated brothers and sisters are flocking overseas
Hoping for better opportunities, in escape of the government's failing tendencies

There are some fingers which knock violently against pessimistic views of democracy
Screaming chants of unity, freedom of speech and power to the masses
Acknowledging the crisis, though optimistic the dice will roll on the nation's favour
Everybody is in congruence that there are positive changes
Though suffering deranges one to estrange the privileged other,
The masses can now vote, and have veto: and can propose the nation's "where to"
The trumpet of jazz plays with a rhythm of joy to the ears of the city streets
Hillbrow swings an elbow of opportunity for most foreign Africans

I saw them burn him alive, because of this xenophobic drive
One of them came through with a knife, though he knew the man had a child and wife

I saw them burn him alive, because of this xenophobic drive
One of them came through with a knife, though he knew the man had a child and wife
Democracy should be an island which mends friendships between foreigners
For it recognises no strangers
The fruits that reap should weep no disgust to the vision of this country
But merely be a bounty, that slowly emancipates our people towards a positive destiny
Away from our pitiful history, and failures which came through this democratic journey.
We should do away with townships, the ever-growing concentration camps
Everyone deserves an opportunity towards fulfilling their dream
For we are a nation meant to gleam, and to the world act as a beam
We are lost in transformation
But we have the map to help us reach our destination
But we have the map to help us reach our destination
Though as it is we are lost in transformation