RootZ Aktion – Requiem für Simbabwe



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 The buildings crumble,

 Rubbish lies in the

 I stare through the
window, dejected,

 While the cab driver
grumbles and bleats.

  The roads are pot-holed,
a minefield.

 We zigzag to save
the car’s shocks:

 Only drunks would
drive straight in this town!

 We hit one – the vehicle

 I’ve come home this
last time, a requiem

 To pack up, and tell
friends goodbye.

 I’m sure that my new
life’s a good thing,

 So why do I just want
to cry?

 I can make far more
money in Europe,

 Buy things I have
ne’er before seen.

 But money’s just money,
gadgets, junk.

 My heart lives back
here, where it’s green.

 In a land where Saturday’s
braai day,

 When friends meet
to burn meat and drink.

 To talk and solve
all the world’s problems,

 Without even pausing
to think.

 Where children can
run in wide spaces,

 And shout, and carouse,
and be free.

 Where parents know
each other’s faces,

 And don’t worry who
strangers might be.

 A land where the people
are friendly,

 Where you’re met with
a hand and a grin.

 Where the doors to
the houses are open,

 And “whenever you’re
round, just pull in!”

 Where the people are
friendly and caring,

 Where they all stick
together, make a plan.

 Where they do what
they can for each other,

 And will help anyone,
if they can.

 A place of great natural

 Hard granite, dry
grasses, hot sun,

 Waterfalls, dry river
beds, dirt roads,

 Bush tracks that go
on and on.

 To know that because
of one mad-man,

 Or two, and a bunch
of their friends,

 I must leave my homeland

 And my African idyll
now ends.

 So farewell to the
land of my childhood,

 As into exile I go.

 Some that are staying
deride me.

 Are they right? I
just don’t know.



 Farewell to our friends
who are leaving;

 Farewell, but never

 Don’t ever be led
to believing

 You’ll never return
’til you die.

 The roads are pot-holed
– a minefield;

 Once they were pristine
and straight.

 Who says that the
roads can’t be filled

 And returned to their
great, former state?

 There are two things
in life that we’re given:

 The one is the money
we earn;

 The other is standard
of living;

 Each must be thought
of in turn.

 If we choose to move,
now or later,

 The shape of our problems
will vary

 But will they get
smaller or greater?

 That is the issue
to query.

 At least here we know
all the issues;

 We know what is just
down the line.

 We can see the disasters

 And move to ‘plan
B’ just in time!

 So what can we say
to our mates,

 As they get on the
bus or the plane,

 As they fight to control
their mind-states

 And struggle to hide
all their pain?

 Let’s wish them the
best for their journey.

 Let’s see them away
with a crack!

 Let’s hope and let’s
pray that, one day,

 We’ll be here to welcome
them back!

 May they go to the
distant, blue hills.

 May they fill up their
hearts with new schemes.

 May they learn some
new methods and skills

 To bring back to the
land of their dreams.

 The madman can’t last,
and will never

 Destroy our dreams,
present and past,

 He cannot do damage

 His destruction will
not always last.

 History will look back
and smile

 At the way that he
stumbled and failed.

 They will say, “Well,
he lasted a while –

 But good over evil

 There are two things
a country requires

 A system, and hearts
that are pure.

 Our hearts are being
strengthened by fires –

 Of adversity – that’s
to be sure.

 The system will come,
be it known;

 The Lord will prepare
it in time.

 So let’s set our faces
like stone

 And run with the course
that unwinds.

 We’re suffering now
in the darkness,

 But the dawn is not
far out of sight.

 The darkest of all
of the hours –

 Is the hour before
it gets light.

 So let’s gird up our
loins and be ready;

 Our affairs are like
rags – all in tatters,

 But it’s just like
a game; let’s keep steady:

 It’s only the last
point that matters!

 So whether we’ve gone
or we’ve stayed,

 We’ve suffered our
fair share of pain;

 We’ll weather the

 And be bravely united
in Zim once again.

 So whether we’ve stayed
or we’ve gone

 Is really not where
it is at.

 Our characters all
have been worked on,

 And we can stand stronger
for that.

 So come back to the
land of your childhood;

 Come back to the land
of your birth.

 We’ll welcome you
home, well and good,

 And the land will
be filled with our mirth.

 We’ll bask in the sunshine

 And laugh at experience

 We’ll know it was
all for our good,

 That the happiness
always will last.

 But let’s not forget
all the warnings:

 The serious dangers
of sin.

 In the fabulous days
that are dawning,

 That corruption the
troubles let in.

 So we’ll live in the
land of our fathers;

 Our Father will care
for us here,

 Remembering love for
our neighbours

 And all His commandments
with fear.

 So here’s to the land
of Zimbabwe:

 Land full of sunshine
and smiles.

 he warm, loving land
of Zimbabwe,

 I guess we’ll be here
for a while.


For more about the CCZ, you
can visit the Web at (Concerned Citizens of Zimbabwe (CCZ))

zum Editorial

Copyright Text: Unknown
Zimbabweans / Layout:  Dr. Igüz 1998 – 2001
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