*A post by Cyndi Barker on the death of Mugabe*
Beggars and Exiles
On the death of Mugabe
I write this for my fellow country men, women and children...
Oh the time has finally arrived
The day of reckoning
The day when you face your maker,
I hope you cower before him
In shame
For all the dishonour you have brought upon the children of Zimbabwe,
What legacy to leave behind you!
Imagine how you will be remembered by history?
You, who tried to re-write it
You, who took and green and living thing,
A people literate and strong,
A growing, thriving economy
Full of industry and hope,
A waved your clenched hand
And said this is mine!
Pamberi!
But it was one step forward and ten steps back
You, who spoke against colonialism
And then made our country a satellite of China,
And in less than four decades
Turned us all into beggars and exiles
While you wreaked a horrible reign of fear and terror
Over us all,
Dividing us with your hateful Rhetoric,
And the land which you grabbed for your inner echelons,
The elections you blatantly rigged time and time again,
Stealing everybody’s right to choose,
And the opposition you killed off,
Biting the hands that fed you
And sending farmers running
paralysed with fright for their lives,
While you butchered what was left,
Leaving people on their knees with starvation and dread,
While you ate cake,
A cake so big it could have fed us all,
And the silent ghosts who haunt the mine shafts and mass graves where you threw their bodies
They will rise up and demand retribution
Children, you turned into orphans and prostitutes,
Animals you sold to the point of extinction
Our national parks you gave away wholesale to foreign eastern nations
To pay for your greed and crippling debt
While you lined your pockets and those of your closest allies,
Your smug arrogance
Your nepotism
Corruption
pounded a jewel to dust
While your cronies fought over the spoils,
I will not weep a single tear
Or shout in jubilation
at your passing,
For we have all lost what we most treasured
Our birthright
And this has done us more damage than anything you could ever imagine,
You departed this mortal world a tired and sick man,
What have you got to show
for the masquerade?
The so-called champion of the people,
Who was so terrified of his own shadow he travelled by motorcade
And surrounded himself by brutal armed thugs
And now your era is over,
You will not be celebrated as some glorious ruler,
Some African Messiah,
The returning conquering hero,
You didn’t know the meaning of the word,
And when your statue lies rusted and defiled
We too will remember the dictator who will not be revered as a victor
But as a bloodthirsty murdering coward
And a very cunning jester
Who beguiled us all.
*Cyndi Barker*
