Eguria

OSWALD MBUYISENI MTSHALI: ‘NIGHTFALL IN SOWETO’                                    Nightfall comes like                                                 A dreaded disease                                                 Seeping through the pores                                                 Of a healthy body                                     5           And ravaging it beyond repair.                                                                                                 A murderer’s hand                                                 Lurking in the shadows,                                                 clasping the dagger.                                                 Strike down the helpless victim.                                     10        I am the victim.                                                 I am slaughtered                                                 every night in the streets.                                         

THE BELATED CONCERN BY EGURIASE S. M. OKAKA A PUBLICATION OF SIR DAVID OSUNDE FOUNDATION NEWSLETTER MAGAZINE (2002:16) How would you feel when a disabled person dies? Let us put that question at the back of our minds as we consider this piece. Last year it was the story of ‘The Dead Sea’ and this year it is the story of ‘A Belated Concern’ by the same author. Lately, I stumbled on this poem written by Henry Barlow a Ugandan poet. In his poem ‘Building the Nation’ he told us a story of a greedy Permanent Secretary (PS) and his driver (a Common man). Let us consider this excerpt from the poem and learn from it what he teaches.                                                 Today I did my share                                                 In building the Nation                                                 I drove a permanent secretary                                                 To an important urgent function                                              

David Rubadiri: ‘Stanley Meets Mutesa’ Such a time of it they had; The heat of the day. The chill of the night And the mosquitoes that followed.                         5           Such was the time and                                     They bound for a kingdom                                     The thin weary line of carriers                                     With tattered dirty rags to cover their backs;                                     The battered bulky chests                         10        That kept on falling off their shaven heads.                                     Their tempers high and hot.                                     The sun fierce and scorching –                                     With it rose their spirits,                                     With its fall their hopes                         15        As each day sweated their bodies dry and                                     Flies clung in clumps on their sweat-