Peace Comrades
They played cover behind burning barrels at Chimoio
At Nyadzonya, they survived burning nights
That blazed with bullets and bombs
Forsook the comfort of home to sleep counting stars
And some nights under thick clouds, facing the anger of Mother Nature
They outlived generations of lice and mice
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Fed mosquitoes generation after generation
Stomachs filled with nostalgic pumpkin leaves in peanut butter
Mother’s best meal
They remembered their mother’s faces
How they cried as they watched them leave
To join the comrades in the fields
To join the struggle/ chimurenga
A fight for the soil
Son said to her mother
“Farewell mother, for I promised your unborn grandchild to never be a comrade”
Years after why are they still singing the liberation anthem
Decades after the struggle was won but your sons are still comrades
Armed with placards
Burning barrels that plead for mercy
They plead for land, for jobs, for education, for freedom
Isn’t this the birth right our fathers left their crying mothers to fight for?
Why is the son a comrade in peace times?
Still fighting for his birth right
Except he is fighting against his own blood.