Stimela

There is a train that comes from Namibia and Malawi 

there is a train that comes from Zambia and Zimbabwe, 

There is a train that comes from Angola and Mozambique, 

From Lesotho, from Botswana, from Zwaziland, 

From all the hinterland of Southern and Central Africa. 

This train carries young and old, African men 

Who are conscripted to come and work on contract 

In the golden mineral mines of Johannesburg 

And its surrounding metropolis, 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 shank. 

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, marauding gangs of no particular origin, 

We are told. they think about their lands, their herds 

That were taken away from them 

With a gun, bomb, teargas and the cannon. 

And when they hear that Choo-Choo train 

They always curse, curse the coal train, 

The coal train that brought them to Johannesburg.

Hugh Masekela

Stimela


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