My beloved motherland
- lloydmufema
- Aug 22, 2021
- 3 min read
Tea pot shaped, you sit tiny amongst your fifty four peers,
But your potential is unmatched, How God could endow you with so much riches I will never understand, You are the embodiment of the saying that dynamites come in small packages, Because indeed, you punch above your waist, A sparkling jewel you are, just waiting to shine again, Fallen you have, but you used to sit among the top, My beloved motherland.
When riches were distributed, you surely were selfish and took double portions, Because what else can explain how you carry so much wealth within your tiny belly, In diamond production, you rank in the top ten amongst your fifty four peers, They say diamonds are made under pressure,
Indeed the pressure that you are currently going through is to make you the gem that you are, In gold production, you also rank in the top ten among your fifty four peers, You are indeed gold, and your current challenges are just a furnace to purify you, In platinum and lithium production, you rank amongst the world's top five, Chrome production, you rank amongst the world's top ten, You are so rich and yet so poor, My beloved motherland.
You are in the top ten most visited countries amongst your fifty four peers, How can it not be so when you have one of the seven natural wonders of the world, mosi-a-tunya (the smoke that thunders), I could write about the big five, the Nyanga Mountains, the Great Zimbabwe ruins showing the earliest civilisation of your people,
You surely have it all, By the way, you also have Kariba Dam, the world's largest man-made lake and reservoir by volume, What a paradox it is that you have so much, and yet you are also a beggar and laughing stock, My beloved motherland.
You are also favoured with fertile lands that are perfect for farming, And yes, you used to feed your peers but all is now history, Once touted as the bread basket of the continent, you are now just but a basket case, Tobacco production, you rank among the top ten in the world and first among your fifty four peers, With such a good climate, how millions of your people are facing starvation is beyond me, My beloved motherland.
One of the gifts that you have bestowed upon your children is that of human capital, Under harsh conditions, they have demonstrated resilience to thrive, Many who are scattered far and wide continue to hold their own, Excelling in various spheres from business to sports and arts, Some have abandoned you and rather chosen to be adopted by other families, Not that they hate you but they lost the hope that things will ever be what they used to be, Yet some are patiently waiting for the tide to settle, so that they can come back and embrace you once again, Meanwhile, they toil in foreign lands, yet they could have been contributing to your development, My beloved motherland. When they came from afar and plundered you, Our forefathers fought but did not succeed the first time, More than three quarters of a century later, our parents fought again and there was joy when you were won back on 18 April 1980, Little did we know that our liberators would soon become our oppressors, Those of your children whom we entrusted with positions of stewardship have proved unfaithful again and again, All we are left with is the imagination of what could have been, Maybe we need to regroup again for the third time, So that we can wage a different kind of struggle,
To liberate ourselves from our liberators, You had given us all that we ever needed to be at the top, but sorry that we have let you down,
Zimbabwe, my beloved motherland.
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