Malawi’s optimismse

By Zondiwe Mbano
Obviously, from the economy of creation
Ugliness was especially reserved for him
Perhaps to remove the danger of people
Thinking he can ever have kindly motives
With his scanty effort to tame a beard
On his debut, his address, forcing words
Through his nose and stumbling at every
Sentence, was a rather pathetic show
Kalulu the hare, himself sent for comic
Relief to people traumatised by the lion
Presented his feral cousin, after a brief
In basic thespian skills for the podium
With a toupée against baldness, a facelift
And a tawdry suit covering his unsightly
Projections, he made his clumsy appeals
And managed to get our sympathy vote
Amazing, his first days were not without
Promise: a good harvest, a new hospital
School, road or port built; though soon
Everybody knew who credit was due to
Rapacious, the monster of Nsanje pond
Now threatens to smoke out or shoot to
Kill people, and christens himself Mister
Unpredictable for fumbling and bungling
Squeezed tight though, after eight months
Bombardment of lecturers and students
The crawling beast capitulates, leaving
His fat lizards simmering with vendetta
Hopefully, even monsters can learn that
Wickedness is autolytic, slowly blowing
Itself until it bursts because it has finally
Outgrown itself in its own wickedness
By Zondiwe Mbano
Part I
When it started, was it naïve
Optimism we hoped the battle
Would end in days or a week
That our red march with placards
Naming and shaming would end
The fouling of academic freedom
That our cerise anger poured into
A poetic legal petition would draw
Tears of contrition from fat lizards
We never knew how wickedness
Has pervaded our whole nation
With its tentacles choking truth
Now we have locked horns with
A fiend of the wild, going forward
Is impossible, going back is death
Part II
It all started when a cop received
A new truncheon with the gusto
That lands grasshopper in thorns
A Bobby waxed himself to fly high
To the tower of erudition, to fluff
Wings at a professor over a lecture
So the dons, watchdogs of academic
Freedom, began to bark furiously
Against intrusions in lecture rooms
Then fat lizards, minions of crocodile
Delivered intimidations, suspension
Of salaries, dismissals, and a lock out
And crocodile ordered to shoot to kill
The nightmarish beast called academic
Freedom, that hounded him in sleep
Part III
How many revolutions started from
Lecture analysis of political theories;
How many uprisings were led by dons
Abstracted professors, scurrying along
Corridors, or embroiled in polemics, over
A bottle, to explicate an obsolete theory
Are revolutions not born of the tears
Of the trampled crying for their votes
Devoured by debauched politicians
When you send police to kill people
Demonstrating, know you are fanning
The fire that will soon smoke you out
Kaddafi in the tunnel learnt too late
That even gold or guns will never
Defeat an idea whose time has come

Kumbu’ | June 25, 2012 at 10:22 | Categories: Uncategorized | URL:

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Symon Mtonga


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