When The Sun Sets Silent Screams Are Heard

I still hear them silent scream…from afar like a chordless hymn, it seems as if this land will never be regained by the African for it is continuously sold through the ballot, X is the price. Some have no idea yet they are in the forefront of selling motherland.

Elections are an easy process for a man who's a populist, people cannot decide on their own but they are fed propaganda through media and every communication device you can get. They are led astray by the same man whom they think led them to freedom. In this Azania that was turned to a republic, I see them flocking to polling station still selling you motherland, where is it all going to end. They say the beginning is the end. The beginning of democracy was the end to humanity and birth to hypocrisy, lies of the capitalist and the ambitious politician. The ruling party has adopted the European ideologies as the right ones for the African people, the American Culture and philosophies as priority above the African. Our people have been misled and misguided by the so called revolutionaries who sold the country and made alliance with the oppressor. It is a tragic situation for us the oppressed because nothing ever changes, now we are more obsessed with money our lives turning into a joke everything is funny. A black man burns on the streets by the hand of another black man, violence escalating amongst brotherhood, who is the enemy? The white man is freely eating cream and honey it was his freedom and their freedom, the freedom of the chosen Mandela's not of the African people. I see them going to vote I wonder what is the next decade bringing to us, how much exploitation will be enforced by the so called job creation, where are we going to be in the next ten years of this struggle…like a burning candle I know that we have to continue with struggle. This is a time when our effort is needed, when Africa reveals that which has been hidden. In time Africans shall see that we have been cheated thus a true revolution is needed… OH! Africa motherland, Africa my home, ikhaya lami i-Afrika. The land of the black, the land of kings turned into slaves and now it is called the land of the poor, and the suffering, the poor of the poorest. Oh my Africa when will thou awake…our minds have been conquered with the illusions of freedom, we have been divided into elite, middle and the poor class. Majority being the latter, and they are the ones to whom fear has been installed. The poor is afraid of rebelling because they have been made to believe that one day things might change it will be better. The filthy politician canvasses for votes so that he can still sit on the high sit and enjoy our blood, rejoice lying to us saying we have a choice yet in real truth he knows we have no choice. YOUR VOTE IS NOT YOUR VOICE!..

Our struggle cannot be won through a ballot paper…

MenzI Mbonambi