To My African Man

By

Kumbirai Kupfavira

As I walk down the streets, I see distress alarms, I smell stenches of human decaying odor. Not decaying because they have passed on, but because they have lost the status of being human.

I ache for what was and look to compare with what is.

It’s nostalgic how I used to embrace not only my nationality but to be in the domain of my region. I am shattered by how at times I fail to uphold that stature. Not because I cannot but I have been failed as an individual and as with others.

Many are dying because you have failed to uphold that which you were voted to achieve.

Are there any elections or erections who have made it and countered all?

My dear African Man, it is within us that we become what has been.

To hold my hand so that I learn from you. Being trembled upon but I walk tall.

My African man I look up and say Yes we can, Together as one.

Not them alone but us together, not to blame but to build, which is strong and reinforced by what has prevailed to become what is and will be, My, Our, Great Region.

Africa.

Kumbirai Kupfavira 

Kumbirai F C Kupfavira is a field officer of one of the strongest and most remarkable artistic theatre and civil rights organizations. She completed her Honours degree in Film and Theatre Arts at Midlands State University and has since worked with the Midlands Arts and Cultural Festival. She is the current artistic/cultural, creative Artist Liaison for Protests Arts International in Zimbabwe. She also holds a certificate in Arts Management from the University of Zimbabwe and another in Food and Beverage Services from Phumelo Academy South Africa. She is passionate in sharing her thoughts and feelings through poetry in which she believes showcases the depth of what is prevailing around her and her inner self.