A dirge: On the ascension of Nelson Mandela

Today, 

We mourn your ascension

Nelson Rolihlahla Mandela.

Son of Mother Africa

Father of South Africa

Conqueror of Apartheid

Unprisonable Prisoner

Gracious Spirit

Way Maker

Warrior King…

Your mother is proud of you

And tonight she’ll embrace you.

Nkrumah, Ghandi, Teresa,

King, Malcom, where are you?

Welcome your dear brother

With a calabash of fresh palm wine

For he has a lot to tell you folk. 

Like incorrigible beggars

In the presence of plenty,

They looted and raped

And looted and killed

And looted and stole

Till they thought they

Were kings. Beggar kings.

For twenty seven years, 

You were shackled

Bound by weaklings

Who’d placed their hope 

In their chains and guns and dogs.

They labelled you terrorist

For they were terrified of you

Even when they called you prisoner 46664.

But with each day your mane grew back.

Your spirit stirred, patiently waiting,

Sharpening your claws on Robben’s walls

And then finally you roared.

They peed in their khakis

And dropped their cigars

As the false foundations

Of apartheid on which they’d stood

Crumbled like tired bread before their eyes.

At the mention of your name

At the smell of your presence

At the sighting of your shadow

Even before you roared, they died.

But unlike them you’re an eagle

You don’t feed on the dead

You, Gracious Spirit, are not a vulture. 

After you ‘d lashed them with your kindness

After your words had punched them

In the balls and they lay wriggling like a dying snake

You stretched out your arm to them.

An arm stronger than Shaka’s spear.

You stretched out your arm to them

Even before they could beg your forgiveness

You showed them how humanity must treat humanity.

You showed freedom is worth fighting and dying for.

Nelson Rolihlahla Mandela

Today, we mourn your ascension.

We pray that many more like you will come.

Rest in perfect peace, Madiba

Live on Warrior King.

Rest in perfect peace.

Copyright: Nana Kofi Acquah 06/12/2013