The Word On Marble (The Sword, Since 1988) Poem by Tony Cemaluk

For close to four decades,
It has stood on marble.

Not on sand.
Not on paper.
On marble.

A verdict,
Hung like the Sword of Damocles,
By P.W. Botha of South Africa,
In 1988,
About us, about Africa, our Africa:

'They don't, we don't have what it takes
To rule themselves, ourselves
In and for an organized society.'

Thirty-seven years.
And counting.

No one dismantled the marble.
No one dismantled the word or the sword.
No one proved the marble wrong.
No one proved the word wrong.
How could they? How could we? In our clime here.

Where, instead —
With ballot snatching, grabbing,
With treasury looting,
With borrowed robes,
With concrete rigging,

We fortified the word, the sword.
We fortified the marble.
We decorated the marble, the word, the sword
With concrete facts.
Painted in gold.

The marble stands still, shining.
The sword still hangs, horrifying.
The word still mounts the marble,
Mourning our looted lots.

- Tony Cemaluk Egbuonu