The African Sun

 By Fungai Makwarimba

As the African sun rays kiss my heels.
I feel my heart beat like a djembe drum at my feet.
Anxious of what prey i am to eat or what challenge i am to feast,
i graciously embark in to the streets of the great city of kings.

As businessmen rush for the next board meeting score, the poor lady
rushes to "emnkambo", the Ecocash man serves ten people in every three
minutes and the streetkid begs but is shown no pity.

With beautiful artifacts at  the City Hall to "ongwaqa labo singanga
nkamisa" the city's heartbeat pulses  with the sound of gumbooters
entertaining Bulawayo citizens  kumaNAMAs.

With the sculpture still sitting at the tower block thinking on how to
stop gender based violence, the youth advocate for child rights, the
varsity student works for his degree and the kings in the city ensure
that Bulawayo is proudly called the city of kings.

When the sun sets to the west,,the horizons awake,,the walkers
talk,the savanna plain some how becomes a bar and the Kudus drink at
the watering hole ,quenching the thirst of the day's work and the
sweat of success...