Megan Schaffner
When Apartheid fled from Parliament
to farms and fortresses in the north
the people toi-toi’d and sang
as the leader emerged
from his island jail.
He promised them houses
promised them schools
promised them jobs
and justice.
People sang in sports stadiums
sang as they cast their votes
sang in queues at township taps
sang in their shacks and shanties.
The leader decreed a Commission
to uncover the truth
but the guilty grudged coming
to make their sullen confessions.
Rivers of tears were shed
for children shot in police raids
mothers tortured and raped
fathers murdered in police custody
priests blown apart by letter bombs.
The guilty wept too –
truth made a brief appearance
but justice failed to show up.
When it was over
the perpetrators went home
to install new security systems,
buy more guns,
breed more rottweillers.
In the townships the tearing down
and building up began.
Parents dug the stony soil
and a few green shoots appeared
on the children’s graves.
People still scavenged
in rubbish dumps for food,
for sheets of iron, for scraps of plastic
to build more shacks
on the fringes of cities.
Now new leaders
back from long exile
govern the nation,
make promises,
make more promises,
line their pockets
and ignore the poor
who still wait
for houses,
for jobs,
for justice.
© Megan Schaffner
Peter Macrow,
Tasmanian Times Poetry Editor.
Tasmanian poets or those with a Tasmanian link are invited to send up to 5 poems which have not appeared previously in print or electronic media to:
[email protected]
For the complete collection, click here: Poetry, Peter Macrow
