Ghetto story


BY Richard Farekaye
The ghetto is a story told in a genre of songs

People make art from what they know,

A kid never barks among goats.

Those who live in hell know it;

And that’s how they create beasts.

Born from struggle, the result is always brute

While those born bathed in rose water and milk

Will forever have a supple understanding,

Which feels vermin when infiltrated by those struggling.

Yet the solution is ever so easy.

Changing what people know, create new art.

A child born in a theatre is a symphony

And one born at the back of it, an untrained baritone.

Transform a community, transform a culture;

A Chimurenga song, an art born of a need,

Gone as need arrived, leaving but traces and pride.

Only to be replaced by the soothing Urban grooves

Sang by  former rural boys until new knowledge of a struggling youth

Birthed from new knowledge, a knocking art

Now, Zimdancehall is born and still all the dusty ghettos truly own.

The ability to create art from what’s known