Sunset on Wakanda – a poetic review of Black Panther

Part 1: An Introduction to Zimbabwe

A cold mist rises over the rejuvenated Mosi-oa-Tunya

The waters of Kasamba bezi are rumbling with the voices of their distanced children

The tongues they shout with are foreign

None remember the semiotic invocations of the BaTonga

The ululations of the KaLanga

Those who tamed the Land after the BaTwa had run and painted it with their dreamscapes

None can dance to the liquid melodies of Mbira and Kalimba

And the Ngoma of Nehanda and Nzinga is all but totally forgotten

The cold mist meets the raging heat of the clouded valleys

And the rain falls incessantly like the urging of a black woman in the throes of the Spirit

Like the woman, we are a people in trance

Fed by foreign settlers who till our soil with  nonchalant glee

Disregarding the ancient rituals of appeasing the ones who first prepared the ground

The treasures of old Bulawayo are plundered and squandered

We are no longer inhaling from the nchelwa and the national totems are bought and sold in markets all over the world

These are the ruins of the once and future Queendom of Great Zimbabwe …

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