Friday, 22 June 2012


I lost my home to a new road

And they said it was the gains of freedom

My humble burrow in the earth

Was plastered with gravel and tar

Eternally sealing my lips, my voice would never be heard

I yearn for the one they called the dirt road

For then my right to this land was respected

Every day I bear the weight of haulage trucks

Trafficking fellow brothers and sisters seeking the same end as I

My tiny legs knock

And are caught between the hardness of earth and

The hardness of the imposed rock above me

I hear them chant some comrades brave and outspoken

They sing “hapana chakanaka tonosangana kumastreets”

Their voices, distant seem louder than mine

Yet still fall on concrete sealed ears

Them like me the ant beneath the tar

Are on different sides of the road yet seeking the same end

Wings to carry our voices to that place called independence avenue.

By Batsirai E Chigama  ( Zimbabwe )

Photo credits :


  1. when the citizens of our beautiful country are relegated to second class citizens all because of the political system that instills fear in the very people that voted them into power.this poem narrates are our daily trials as Zimbabweans.we long for the real "independence avenue"

  2. When the natives of our breathtaking motherland are encouraged behind to poor class community, all considering of the diplomatic system that in pacifies worried in every persons to appoint them interested in sovereignty. I found that Indian Independence Day.