Zimbabwe: Mugabe's epitaph by a little girl
Be gone and done
The slow death of Mugabe's regime as it grasps at battered reeds of a hope that had long been extinguished by the suffering of his people leaves us exhausted.
The life of his government ebbs away having been dealt the blow of a cardiac arrest in losing his majority in the Zimbabwean parliament, to an opposition that has been tested – not by slavery, not by liberation struggle, not by apartheid but by fellow black countrymen drunk to excess with power – and it is now ready to take the tattered mantle, maybe to a place of new beginnings - Godspeed.
Give us the president
The population of Zimbabwe does not number infinity, the count must end one day and the result will be known.
Woe betide they who give respite to the beast that ate the people for breakfast, took away everything that made the people a proud and honourable people and spat them out at dusk as all that once had worth became cheaper than the sand in the desert.
The defibrillator shall roast the heart to cinder because every good deed that might have been worthy of thanks a generation ago has been wiped out many times over by the longsuffering resolve of a people who would not endure slavery anymore under the iron hand of any man no matter the colour.
Tell the men to make the coffin of the wood of townships destroyed and by the time the last gasp leaves the beast, secure him to eternal repose with 9-inch nails and not a few.
Zimbabwe’s plight is Africa’s shame
As we begin to rejoice at the end of the suffering of Zimbabwe and it must be very soon - the shame of Africa is laid bare, not one has been a brother's helper in ending this travesty.
The people of Zimbabwe took their destiny in their own hands and called a stop to their bondage.
They will owe no man their freedom because they voted the man out with their blood, their suffering and their vote, for which they deserve all commendation, praise and support.
We amongst ourselves most evil
Let it be known that it was the black man who took away the hopes and aspirations of the fellow black man.
It was the black man, his cohorts and minions that bloodied their fellow countrymen.
And it was fellow black leaders that gave succour to the reprehensible, the atrocious, the unacceptable and the downright outrageous.
Zimbabwe's friends in their quest for real self-determination were not in Africa, they were further away but kept faith for their deliverance.
Let the past begin
As a new dawn breaks we congregate at the death-bed of the beast, any time soon, should come the last gasp, the padre with the stake awaits the moment to make dead certain dead sure.
Line the grave with lead and seal it with concrete and let it be sunk in the rough of the deepest seas.
No remembrance should be made of the beast for the past ends when the stake was driven in.
After all said and done, the little girl of hardly 10 said. “He was a very bad man”.
She could have won the Pulitzer prize with that one line.
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