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Heritage Day poem

Heritage Day poem by by Caroline Boitumelo & Tshepang Sekgororwana. Elderly African lady with traditional headcloth looking into distance.

Heritage Day Poem

by Caroline Boitumelo & Tshepang Sekgororwana

At the sound of the Jembe drum up the
Kilimanjaro Mountain smoking fire I awake from
a dream that says: my heritage is Africa. My skin
colour is only but a part of me, and not all of
me. My feet dance to the beat of the Jembe
drum as I release all that holds me back from
that which I am meant to be
As I begin to mend my palms to clap in song,
breaking bond from the silences that hold me,
cause in rhythm I was born, conceived by
rhymes, raised by stories from my ancestors,
ancient storytellers and time-tellers of all time,
life’s truest antiques, more precious than a
Rhino’s horn, this is a sneak peek into my
heritage, where I was born, bred and fed words
from an early age, this is the only world I know
An early age where story telling was the meal of
the day. As we sat around the fire ni
bbling freshly grilled mealies. The oral tradition is
passed on in this manner,and selah! ‘Tis all a
part of our being. Reciting poetry is a ritual in its
own right. Naledi ela ya maruberube… is an all
time favourite.
I favour it too, but my all time favourite, is that
one, I would always recite, when I would see my
grandfather in plain sight as he returned; ntate
moholo o tswa kae ka jako.., before Joko tea
was a common norm, before playing ditini was in
form, and we seat around the fire raining words
of stories intertwined with the fire flames, rising
higher to call on the thunder storm…,Pula!!! Ga
ene! Pula!!! Ga ene! ya medipu !!Ga ene
salute to the rainbow nation

happy heritage day south africa

 

Note: originally seen on Facebook

Elize Rowe

elizevdlinde@yahoo.com

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