Your people speak of death and crime
And not much else
Of lives ended in their prime
Of poverty and empty wells
Of AIDS, shower-and-virgin cures
Of children and woman raped
The hardships everyone endures,
Discrimination not escaped.
Murderers and hijackers walk the street
Whilst the people live behind their bars
All equally desensitized by violence and deceit
Caught up in the so-called democratic farce.

And I lift my eyes
Praying to whatever divinity above
The planet’s bluest skies,
To give Africa some love.

Being back I cannot help but see
Things are new but time stood still,
Many still on their little spree
- One-sided, hard headed, never objective -
To badmouth, hate, “protect” or kill...
To me distance and time brought new perspective
And I know the blood that flows in this land
Is what flows in my veins and my aorta?
Re-confirming, making me understand
Africa changes you, you never change Africa.

And I lift my eyes
Praying to whatever divinity above
The planet’s bluest skies,
To give Africa some love.

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My House Reeks of Poverty | Vuyokazi Mtimde
Finger Gauze | Cara Furniss
Do We Call This Our Home | Previn Pillay
Helen of Troy |Carlos Roberto de Souza
I Am Not Who You Think I Am | Matthew
Life Is So Fragile | Luyolo Mkentane
My South Africa | Ezilana
Ndiboleken' Indlebe | Unathi Tshazi