Dear Mother Zambia Poem by Preston Mwiinga

This year is yet again another year when we have gathered together as a nation to sing that happy birthday to you.
We are joined amidst the political differences that have worried you for quite some time bacause your children are fighting bruising one another and you are tired of nursing them, you don't even know which better side to take because they are all your children.
The good morals you took time to install in then have been chewed by a virus of hate.
They no-longer shower one another with love but with hate.
They are now prone to dialog. Their immune system is so they respond not to any form of reconciliation.
On the other hand mother living standards of your people are deteriorating as hunger has become a family member.
Marrying, getting married or into a relationship is like the hammer house of horror. Husbands are killing, GBV no-longer affects women only because wife are now becoming knives, killing like the people of Chibolya slaying a goat upside down in cold blood.
Chinibaba because children, poor children are victims of being murdered, , the dreams shuttered, all that that mattered has now become a meaningless as their bodies are scattered like clutter in a computer lab but with poor little lives cut shot.
Some even die being raped, abused and tortured.
Mother Zambia you are getting old, your wrinkles are foretelling, your body is becoming weak because we no-longer care for you or your natural resources. Its like everything is growing old with you. You can no-longer walk straight, and you can no-longer stand on your feet the sad part is that we have neglected you, you no-longer have a pillar.

But on your birthday today we dedicate our selves to you.
We come to you as prodigal children, accept us and restore us back to children you always want us to become even as we celebrate your birthday.