Artists

Artists

Artists

When Bob Marley came to Zimbabwe
Possessed of the Holy Freedom Spirit
in 1980,
To give and take from what he believed was a revolution.
I suppose all that many did was marvel
at his hair.
Without the will to listen
to his redemption songs.

And when Salif Keita screamed over and above
Harare Conference Centre’s looming space
His Mandingo peanut-butter-smoothened voice
was just as well
on an Albino of ancient African stock
who was supposed to be killed
on arrival.
Does anyone remember the words
of this singing bird?
Not even those who afforded tickets to the august
golden centre.

One of the most energetic of the just-ended millenium
Lucky Dube
Singing of street-fighting and bullet-proof souls
A reminder of a maybe-explosive future
that may trigger yesterday\'s conversation.
What did they say?
Just an imitation of West Indian reggae
Lost in no truth of the world.

And our own home-brewed terrorists
Thomas of the monkey totem.
Never stopped shouting the truth
that even when it stares at you
won\'t believe the image in the mirror.
“He takes too much ganga
Don\'t take him seriously,”
says an honourable MP.

It’s only the difference between
Politics and Art.