Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Chirikure Chirikure

To you, children of Africa

Those stories about
Children singing and dancing
To celebrate and welcome thunder and lightning
Racing each other in the downpour
Stampeding and messing themselves up in the mud
While their elders smile and congratulate themselves
At their bumper rice and groundnut crop –
That – is just fairy tales now.

What is happening to children is:
They howl at the blast of the machine gun
Hiding from the hailstorm of bullets
Stampeding in the mud of blood
While the elders cry shamelessly
In the presence of their own children
Sending up prayer after prayer that no one answers.

Children don’t know what happiness is anymore
Children don’t know what home or family is
Babies have forgotten what to eat is
Those yet to be born are being denied the right of life
And all because of something called – human being
A human being who sings the praises of power and money
Above human life.

Kunemi vana vemuAfrika

Kunemi vana vemuAfrika

Zviya zvekuti pwere
Dzapemberera kutinhira kwemupande
Dzichimhanyidzana mumvura inonaya
Dzichikanya-kanya matope
Vakuru vachirima mupunga nenzungu
Dzangova ngano chete.

Zvava kuitika kwadziri pwere
Kuchema kutinhira kwegidi
Dzichivanda chimvuramabwe chemabara
Dzichikanya matope eropa
Vakuru vachisvimha, vapwere vakatarisa
Ichiteurwa minamato isina mudaviri.

Pwere hadzichaziva chinonzi rufaro
Vana havachaziva chinonzi musha
Vasvava havachaziva chinonzi kudya
Kana vari munhumbu, upenyu harwuchina kodzero
Nekuda kwake munhu
Munhu anotungamidza simba nepondo pamberi.
Close

To you, children of Africa

Those stories about
Children singing and dancing
To celebrate and welcome thunder and lightning
Racing each other in the downpour
Stampeding and messing themselves up in the mud
While their elders smile and congratulate themselves
At their bumper rice and groundnut crop –
That – is just fairy tales now.

What is happening to children is:
They howl at the blast of the machine gun
Hiding from the hailstorm of bullets
Stampeding in the mud of blood
While the elders cry shamelessly
In the presence of their own children
Sending up prayer after prayer that no one answers.

Children don’t know what happiness is anymore
Children don’t know what home or family is
Babies have forgotten what to eat is
Those yet to be born are being denied the right of life
And all because of something called – human being
A human being who sings the praises of power and money
Above human life.

To you, children of Africa

Those stories about
Children singing and dancing
To celebrate and welcome thunder and lightning
Racing each other in the downpour
Stampeding and messing themselves up in the mud
While their elders smile and congratulate themselves
At their bumper rice and groundnut crop –
That – is just fairy tales now.

What is happening to children is:
They howl at the blast of the machine gun
Hiding from the hailstorm of bullets
Stampeding in the mud of blood
While the elders cry shamelessly
In the presence of their own children
Sending up prayer after prayer that no one answers.

Children don’t know what happiness is anymore
Children don’t know what home or family is
Babies have forgotten what to eat is
Those yet to be born are being denied the right of life
And all because of something called – human being
A human being who sings the praises of power and money
Above human life.
Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Prins Bernhard cultuurfonds
Lira fonds
Versopolis
J.E. Jurriaanse
Gefinancierd door de Europese Unie
Elise Mathilde Fonds
Stichting Verzameling van Wijngaarden-Boot
Veerhuis
VDM
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère