Competition

Second Prize

Zimbabwe
by Nina Carpenter

They came in large groups
Shouting their impossible demands
Rattling the gates
Screaming at us
“White bastards"

They come along the road
Anger on their chocolate faces
Wielding makeshift weapons
Glaring at us
"White bastards"

We flee in large groups Saying final goodbyes Crying for the loss Hating them
"Black bastards"

We flee over the sea
Heartbreak on our faces
Clutching our passports
Wishing awful things upon them
"Black bastards"

And now we are in the sunburnt country
Will they let us stay?

Will we be safe?
Yes, we can stay
Yes, we are safe

And still we read
" Zimbabwe inflation rate, 1200%"
"Farmer found dead"
"More farms are taken"
"Small bag of groceries costs millions"  

Our beautiful home –
­which is no longer home –
­Is destroyed, ruined
But we are safe and happy
And love our new place ...

. . . Still the memories sit
Locked up in a dusty cupboard
At the back of our minds
Still taunting us
Still there
Zimbabwe