My Funeral Poem by Wensislaus Mbirimi

Within minutes of faint whisperings and unbelieving rhetorics
The news had spread the breadth of the teeming Mbizo Ghetto
From Big Bhawa slicing through Garandichauya to Chifukunde
Makorokoza paHeroes texting those at Rudolph and at Pabhawa ku7
The shock, the disbelief as all hear that Ras, Wenzi, Murenga
Rebel to some had breathed his last

Night time and a funeral vigil. All present
Speech after speaker going on about how well mannered,
A model child and adult.
Philip from primary school attesting to prowess on academics and athletics and teachers' favourite
Laughter as he mentions what a lousy singer,
the worst at a school best at choral competitions
Baggio and Alick soccer mates from age 10 simply adding his name to the greats, who never made it coz he gave up the game for school

Ronnie, Max, Vice and Kiri Grant boys from the hood non stop tear shedding, mourning their dear departed leader
Section 7 mothers led by Mbuya Masibanda all bawling for a son they wished was theirs
If tears could bring back the dead,
Then Mai Chashaya's would have for him and Kabike, her long dead son,
Now joined by his friend and brother from another womb

No one could sleep, with John Svosve leading the impromptu choir of ghetto youths whose voices were given that something extra that only the weed of Malawian grade can give
Choir members easily recognised were Pagal, Tsvire, Charlie Central and Pedro singing to stem the flow of tears, saliva and mucus
Come daybreak tea, sadza with cabbage all served
Mdara June as always in attendance and doing his bit to make it all bearable

Midday and the body arrives, moonlight or is it doves
With a hearse without a body as friends and colleagues took it upon themselves to convey their friend to his final resting place
Salvation Army choristers with their tambourines
Competing with Methodist vabvuwi blowing hwamanda,
Singing his favourite hymns Ndinoshamiswa kwazvo and Munozovepiko
And when they sang Baba ndiri mwana wako fresh tears easily and surely gushed
I swear if the dead could see this they would gladly die twice more just to heap more sorrow and misery on the living

All things come to an end so did the funeral
But oh me oh my….the fashion exhibited at Msasa Cemetery would put America's next top models to shame
Mini skirted young mothers, sunglasses to match, chocolate thighs bared, cleavages left for all to gaze
Gosh the dead surely missed out
Wannabe fashionists with ill fitting hats and laddered pantyhose
Mascara and make up powders running, what a sight

Old Madhalaz dead drunk now, picking out meat from their rotten teeth
Agreeing this had been a proper send off by friends and neighbours
One old goat clad in an old Rhomet overall and helmet to match
Shouted to all and sundry
"who needs relatives when friends can send you off to your maker like this"