What is beauty when that beauty is obscured
by the nastiness of sleaze, neglect and greed?
What is the meaning and essence of independence
when the masses’ misery is taken as an indulgence?
How does one celebrate 44 years of lack of progress,
a series of delusions, deceits or stress after stress?
How can you proudly claim to be free, lovely and livable
when you strain your neighbors? Isn’t that despicable?
You share your border in the north with Zambia,
in the far-flung west, your slant fondles Namibia.
In the southwest and west, you relish a fraternal confluence
with Botswana, in the south with South Africa, you surely dance.
In the northeast and east, you are fused with Mozambique, officially,
you are situated in Southern Africa. You have ample wealth, naturally.
You offer tourists marvels and pretty picks, you are a beauty, but 18 April,
that appeal is zero as long as the average citizens are stuck in lack’s peril.
