The dead do speak

Daily i wake up to crying voices, I’m roused by wailing noises, of ancient hopes, liberty and prosperity seem like perpetual delusional illusions. even after the blood shed, sweat and tears liberty remains a phantom of the hoped for emancipation a spirit of the anticipated that fails to arrive the corridor that leads to the hall of fallen heroes brims with subtle mummers of "was it worth it?" as they turn to see how we spit at their sacrifice defacating on their edifice . the poor are the echoing the voices of those who laid down their lives. Is this the freedom our fathers died for? they ask with tears in their eyes anger in their heart do you want to tell me the dead do not speak? do they not feel tempted to take a peek? when daily i hear their voices in the failures of the living the undelivered deliverables of the municipal manager the lone ranger who leaves nothing but anger as he fiddles with his pager the unemployed pleading to the deployed cadre the dead, they do speak for their language is muted hovered by unending celebrations of the freedom we won 12 years ago; I hear them call for calm We have been delivered Its time for us to deliver The dead have spoken again They were fighting for freedom, They knew nothing about building someone’s kingdom; When they were pelted with the teargas They had no illusion of constructing someone’s legacy The dead, they do speak Don’t tell me the dead do not speak? Tell me quality houses are being built And the contractors are not friends of the mayor And they have not layered rands in money stands Tell me the jobs are available And any one can get them, no matter what their surname; Tell me schools will be built; Abuse will be eradicated; Racism will be punished; Why do you tell me the dead do not speak? For I clearly hear the echoes of their voices, Asking Are the people governing or have we decided to cross floors to any party that promises VIP status at an and an after party Leaving the millions who voted unrepresented Do all people have equal rights Are the people sharing in the country’s wealth Or have we created a new class of the black elites Whose everyday language is tenders and corruption As the their comrades fail to deliver amidst the commotion is the land shared amongst those who work Or are we still begging the landowners to return what belongs to us Are all equal before the law Or there are people who will never be arrested until proven guilty Unlike the rest of us Do all enjoy equal rights Is there work and security Have the Doors of Learning and Culture been Opened! Or are we still studying under the trees And thousands deprived education for lack of money Are there houses,Is there security,Is there comfort Is there peace and friendship? The dead, do speak.