The Creator made her gold. Solid gold. She was pure, beautiful, endowed with aesthetic appeal. We loved her, it was a wonderful feeling to belong to her. We called her home.
The spirit of Ubuntu reigned. We operated in concert and sung her anthem with a reverberation of a genuine sense of belonging. We stood definitely proud and wonderfully free.
But, her beauty lured some. Her healthy face, succulent and full breasts made them lust after her. They joined us as we praised her; they sung so beautifully, we were sold.
“They must have good intentions…”
And just like that, we let them in.
But alas, they raped, defiled, mutilated, and harassed our once virgin beauty. She was left broken and bare without the sparkle of health.
This isn’t Zambia.
Our once beautiful home has been turned into a painful desert, with nothing but weeds, twigs, bushes and shrubs.
The air is laden with corruption, disrespect for rule of law, disregard for human rights. There is freedom of expression, improperly so-called but no freedom after expression. There is a miasma of barbarism, crimes against humanity, cruelty and insensitivity.
The homeless have their shacks taken away; the orphans have their parents taken away still. Yes, even the little they have is taken away. The poor get poorer while the rich get richer.
Propaganda is rampant. Black is made to pass off as white? This isn’t Zambia.
We are made to beg for what is rightfully ours because selfishness has crept into our hearts. The ones meant to protect, hurt and kill instead. The lighthouse is covered by storms so that it fails to give light to the poor wayfarer.
The young who will be the leaders of tomorrow are mercilessly taken away for airing out their grievances.
One day, they committed a huge crime. They took away an innocent heroine who was a victim of circumstances. Her blood cries out from the ground. It demands justice. In a land so free, or so they say, no one should never have to beg for dear life.
Was Zambia at war? Did we have an intruder sent to disturb peace? Was she an enemy? Hell no, why then did she have to die a martyr’s death at the hands of the chosen protectors? This isn’t Zambia.
‘Stand and sing of Zambia, proud and free?” proud of what? Free from what? The caged bird doesn’t sing of freedom. Landlocked in spiritual, political, social, economic and religious poverty; hiding behind a religious garb to cover our sins and cowardice.
The flag that once gave us pride makes us shudder.
The green that once stood for our resources has turned brown due to the change in the intellectual climate. The red that stood for the blood of our freedom fighters now stands for the innocent souls that have died at the hands of the so-called protectors!
The eagle doesn’t fly anymore; it’s dancing with chickens.
The Ubuntu in the black color is gone!
Our selfishness and short-sightedness has ruined us; our virgin damsel is ruined all because we couldn’t distinguish between love and lust. This isn’t Zambia.
This is not a political agenda; it’s a moral cry for social justice!
We have lost our beloved! The image we have now is not Zambia. It may look like it, it may even smell like it but this isn’t Zambia!
Our beloved is lost… but we must fight to restore whatever has remained; try and give her beauty for ashes.
We are in a mess but definitely not out of the Creator’s mercy.
This isn’t Zambia, but it can be.
BY Madaliso Daka