Tanzania, Weep Not – Not Yet

By Nicodemus Minde (@decolanga)

They keep him now in cold, stone shadows – accusations sharpened
to carve away his breath
A noose around his neck.

Once, bullets failed to claim him; he stared into a grave dug eager to swallow him whole –
and still, he rose.

Now again he stands
Before they that couldn’t
Send his soul to our lost imaginations He carries the dreams of a nation wounded
His wounds, engraved
Deep into our dreamed lantern.

Yet he smiles.
He fights.
He kindles hope in hearts frayed thin, |
yet yearning. Faint though it flickers,
his light whispers of tomorrow.

A fist raised –
defiant. A vow unbroken –
courage.
Hope.
The promise of dawn’s soft return.

Tanzania,
weep not — not yet.