Whirlwind Poem by Chirikure Chirikure

I heard the word from Macmillan of Britain
There is a new wind blowing in Africa
A wind of change sweeping across Africa
A wind the whole world is warned to take heed of

I saw the wind sweeping out the land of Africa
Opening the eyes of those under oppression
Shaking the bastions of colonialism to the root
Leaving a new flag of the people flying in the air

Today, I look here and there, I hear another sound
The wind has changed tone; this, now, is a dust-storm
A dust-storm that is ripping out the wiring from people's minds
Turning the spear from the enemy to point at one's own brother
Blinding the eyes so people can't see where they are going
Dangling money in people's faces, changing many into devils
It rips off the adornments from the legal thrones and throws them into the fire
It tramples on the flag of the people and hoists up the insides of little babies

When I look closely, I see a demonic dust-storm
A dust-storm that is shredding the umbilical cord
Even before the calf is ready to leave the womb
It has pulled out the ancestral prayer-tree, muhacha
And turned it upside down
With its roots to the sun!

Translation by Charles Mungoshi