Stimela

There is a train that comes from Namibia and Malawi

There is a train that comes from Zambia and Zimbabwe,

There is a train that comes from Angola and Mozambique,

From Lesotho, from Botswana, from Swaziland,

From all the hinterlands of Southern and Central Africa.

This train carries young and old, African men

Who are conscripted to come and work on contract

In the golden mineral mines of Johannesburg

And its surrounding metropolis, sixteen hours or more a day

For almost no pay.

Deep, deep, deep down in the belly of the earth

When they are digging and drilling for that shiny mighty evasive stone,

Or when they dish that mish mesh mush food

into their iron plates with the iron shank.

Or when they sit in their stinking, funky, filthy,

Flea-ridden barracks and hostels.

They think about the loved ones they may never see again

Because they might have already been forcibly removed

From where they last left them

Or wantonly murdered in the dead of night

By roving, marauding gangs of no particular origin,

We are told.

They think about their lands, and their herds

That were taken away from them

With a gun, and the bomb, and the teargas, the gatling and the cannon.

And when they hear that Choo-Choo train

A-chugging, and a pumping, and a smoking, and a pushing, a pumping, a crying and a steaming and a chugging and a whooo whooo!

They always cuss, and they curse the coal train,

The coal train that brought them to Johannesburg. Whooo whooo!

#stimela

#hughmasekela