SIHLE NTULI
3 Durban Poems
The Great Flood
based on the KwaZulu-Natal floods of April 2022
in a story of how rain broke the ground during the fall,
a 70-year-old Hindu temple was washed away,
while roads caved-in
under tense pressure from the water
walls releasing holds
under tense pressure from the water
roofs of homes collapsing
under tense pressure from the water.
the blessings of rainfall had gathered to form an overabundance,
our flaw was in the way we received
nature, her goodwill provoked by
a carelessness of how we channelled
the flow of water & in our hubris
could we ever have dreamt of such
a sophisticated demise as the gates
were left open for a great flood to enter.
how long have the clouds been holding back their intentions for us?
while we walked on none the wiser
to hardening soil beneath our shoes
how has rain fallen to the earth & not been held
by soft nurturing hands
that nature once provided?
amid the floods of fall we came together
down on our knees pleading with the clouds
saying…
we are sorry we are sorry we are sorry.
Zulu Mecca
Those who were there in-person will tell you of the miracle
of iBandla lamaNazarethe
uShembe marching through West Street
on their way to the Durban city hall in colossal numbers.
A sea of white traditional garb,
somehow managing to turn West Street into some kind of Zulu Mecca
movement of traffic inside the city centre
coming to a complete halt.
Should we really have been surprised
since the Nazareth Baptist Church
boasted the distinction of being among the largest
African churches in the country
Shembe was indeed the only way,
as bodies blocked the flow of traffic during
the overwhelming event.
They had come to protest strong divisions in their church,
following a long stand-off
between a nephew & his uncle who fought
over whom was the rightful heir to the church
Such a mammoth coming together in the name of religion
& for the rest of us
a fear of God left behind
in our eyes
In disbelief that the congregants of Shembe yielded all that power
the ability to effortlessly bring
the city of Durban
to its knees
Princess Magogo Stadium
after Khulile Nxumalo’s poem ‘Orlando Stadium’
blame the relegation of AmaZulu
on the township tour guide
on the peculiar shape of Judas’
cold metallic finger,
a tip of sharp silver
along his nail
into Mashu’s coffin
our chests heavy heavin’
the burial foreplay
the poverty porn,
the devouring vultures
piercing into Zangaléwa,
like township stadia refurbished
in the name of uMagogo kaDinuzulu
& what really happens to a dream deferred
by grinding gold molars of a hustla
like plight of Cameroonian war tributes
a lamentation of African soldiers lost
fighting in World War II,
a meaningful song swallowed
then regurgitated into Waka Waka
(this time [only a moment] for Africa)
freshly ground into the periphery
into a wound reopened
every four years
& what of a World Cup that continues
a legacy of exploitation
finda, finda, here the tourists come
wielding their loaded…
cameras,
& don’t they realise people live here?
These three poems are from the forthcoming poetry collection Zabalaza Republic