izingane zomhlabathi

children of the soil

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 that shiny mighty evasive stone

or when they dish that mish mesh mush food

into their iron plates, with the iron shovel

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 and marauding gangs of no particular origin

we are told

they think about their lands and their herds

taken away from them

with the gun, and the bomb, and the the tear gas,

the gatling and the cannon

stimela sihamba ngamalahle

sivel' eDalagubhayi

sangilahla kwaGuqa

bathi sizomba amalahle

-Hugh Masekela, The Coal Train (Stimela)