30 years of Africa

Thirty Years of Africa

Africa of the brightest days
I Where shine the clearest rays
Africa of the darkest nights
Our land of Kingly might
Thirty years ago
You had your go
From the hands of colonialists
Into the hands of neo colonialists
Seventy years were too long; too long
And the tethers are still strong:
Yon have not broken free
In years ten times three
Thirty years of Africa
Thirty years of slavery
Thirty years of misery
Thirty years of civil wars
Thirty years, thirty years

We die
Maimed by strange diseases
Our lives cheaper than a bowl of rice
Sold at thirty pieces of silver
Up North the children have no joy
They no longer sing or play
They no longer make no toys
Only the sound of heavy boots
Marks the birth of a new day
Only the sound of guns
Punctuated with political hot air
Rents the air like thunder.

In the West drums still beat
The same old regular rhythms
But the women no longer swing their hips
Their breasts are fallen ooo
Their faces are wrinkled with sorrow
And the children wail in pain
As they watch the firing squad
Tear down the walls of peace
ln the heat of noon
This poem was presented as part of 1983 national celebrations to mark thirty years of Kenya’s independence.