The Irony Of The Fruit Poem by Mlondi Samkelo Ndlovu

The air is filled with stenches of fury,
Freedom songs reanimated are
usurped from the dead in their sleep
for the cousin purpose of 1976.
The official seats have been warming up
and the officials have no seats like ants
preparing for the arrival of winter—
The iron doors cannot resist the invasion
of the Headquarters by the knowledge acquirers


The students versus the rainbow nation—
that was the label of the so-called war.
To them: voetsek zinja call it whatever you want!
The mere reason is the corruption and greed in your closets
that has you on your lowest levels


… Until the struggle was appropriated.
At a meeting the dead's spirits returned back
to weep at the loss of the course,
The river became dry, the graves became cold
and they all died their second deaths.
Meaning was lost in the freedom songs after
he suggested that we demand it;
The submission of the Blade
And said the solution was nature


Yellow-orange reflections at night were seen
in the wall opposite to the receptions
that warmed up with the smouldering heat—
all in the name of free education—
Libraries perished and smelt of books ash
and footprints led away to the res
The car tracks led the official buildings.
The investigators merely uncovered the pawns
We have been failed….