We’re awoken to the sounds of Roosters crowing to the dawn
of day;
And whilst our tea is busy warming up on the fire we kneel
and pray;
A normal day on our settlement with the sun shining and the
winds at peak;
As we prepare the day, we hearken to the elders as they sat
us down to speak;
Sharing folk talk amongst others, as the elders handed out
tasks to be completed;
As winter was approaching we could not allow our food
storage to be depleted;
THE SOLDIERS EYES, DEPICT MY ANCESTORS CRIES
Herding the livestock in the depth of our valley, we
observed dust in the foreground;
Alarmed we froze in utter shock to the extent of exposing
our hideout and being found;
Men on horseback with what seemed like weapons of mass
destruction over their shoulders;
We were marched back to our village with our livestock in
shackles like were now prisoners;
Families captured in chains with our huts being up in flames
and the strong put to death;
The torture was a shock to the extent that some elders
having taken their last breath;
Uprooted from our water source and what we called home for
so many generations;
We embarked upon a journey unknown and so far, it seemed we
were changing nations;
THE SOLDIERS EYES, DEPICT MY ANCESTORS CRIES
Along the journey being whipped with no food or water for
days they did not bother;
Many did not make the journey as they became victims to the
merciless slaughter;
Our final destination seems with no further land in view surrounded by the ocean;
As people were rounded up daily on carts chained my elders’
names they did mention;
I did not know on that day it would be their last sight, as
from us they vanished;
We would wake up and go to sleep malnourished accompanied by
cries of anguish;
Our mothers and sisters passed on from soldier to soldier,
as they paraded them naked;
They were hell bend on tarnishing our dignity and defiled
what we regarded as sacred;
THE SOLDIERS EYES, DEPICT MY ANCESTORS CRIES
Treated like slaves in our country of birth right, by those
who seek to oppress and rule;
Once decapitated our fathers and brothers would be thrown
into the ocean to fool;
The Sharks swimming close shore got excited as if they were
gifted manna from heaven;
The trauma visits me every hour, that’s why I go drown my
sorrows at the nearby tavern;
It pains me that my people’s destiny has been stolen through
decades of abuse and torture;
We must restore and set the narrative correct for the
descendants through consistent folklore;
The restoration of their dignity requires policy
formulations to advance reparatory justice;
This we will embark upon even if it requires an unwavering
and tireless effort to fight this;
THE SOLDIERS EYES, DEPICT MY ANCESTORS CRIES
Compiled by: Elwin !Gaoseb
