I search for the drops of blood
That marks the footprints of my forefathers
Painting the path taken by the great Makololo tribe
From the mountains of South Africa
To the wetlands of the zambezi river
My warrior tribe unfazed by their long quest
Sebetoane was the undisputed King of the Makololo tribe
A trailblazer by birth and nature, he made the first step
Pushed by the great difaqane wars of the early 1800s
He collected his tribal elders and made a decision
He was going to leave his motherland forever
Never to come back
The great Makololo tribe, a remnant of the Basotho kingdom
Collected their belongings and left
Puncturing the heart of southern Africa
With their stampeding feet
Fighting their way through the desert
They were possessed by the great adventurous spirit
Giving them courage and strength
To fight many battles
Many of my tribal men and women were scattered
From the mountaintops of our motherland
The path of my blood line is broken and disconnected
Erased by the great desert winds
Swallowed by the immense Okavango delta
My tribe is lost within the many tribes of Botswana
Drops of my blood line were found in the modern day Caprivi
Moving Northward towards the present day Malawi
Through the great nation of Zambia
The Makololo tribe disappeared
Wiped off from the face of the earth
By their lust for the unknown
Now, the great Makololo tribe live
They live in the blood of their sons and daughters
Who roam the plains of Southern Africa
Disoriented by their lack of identity
Misrepresented by their adopted tribes
My blood line is forever in limbo
I represent the last of my blood line
Someone calling in an empty desert
Calling those of my blood
To listen to their ancestors' call
A call to reunite…
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem