My Father by Felix Mnthali

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That we may have life

and have it abundantly

he endured

the chrome-dust

the damp hell

of Selukwe Peak Mines

the pittance

of American multi-nationals –


They thought it was the watch

on which they had inscribed his name

‘for a long and meritorious service’

that made him beam…

they never saw blacks

as men with ambition

but only as a ‘labour force’

the long arm of their

‘manifest destiny’,


the vital source

of their strategic metals.

He smiled

smiled because one day

one day…

his sons would return!

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