Best Poem of Jack Mapanje

Making Our Clowns Martyrs (or Returning Home Without Chauffeurs)
We all know why you have come back home with no
National colours flanking your black Mercedes Benz.
The radio said the toilets in the banquet halls of
Your dream have grown green creepers and cockroaches
Which won't flush, and the orders you once shouted
To the concubines so mute have now locked you in.
Hard . . .
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Beasts of Nalunga VI
And when riddlers call
beasts of Nalanga spirits
of the innocent that our
hit squads ‘accidentalised'
once, now seeking peace
for their mangled bodies
with today's dispensation;
when our narrators today
poets tomorrow remember
to restore the victims of
beasts of Nalunga to their
Read the full of Beasts of Nalunga VI