Maybe Boxing Will Unite Us Poem by Preston Mwiinga

I have been moving around the country looking for united people. People of different ideologies, religious ideas, cultures, and political belongings. I searched through the provinces, cities, districts, villages and compounds. I cried out because of a very big gap I saw. It was a crack that divided the nation.

Broken felt and divided we are diluted at the hands of disunity and division but we linger with sight in our hands but there is capacity and power for greatness, for happiness at the potential of the premise of unity and togetherness may we stand together and make the unity that we peacefully seek to found our fundamentals and the heritage of our tomorrows
Some of our heroes are now becoming Zeros. The messages of peace they preached, have turned into blasphemy. The oneness they practiced has now transformed into threats and insults. But as I seat in the corner. In my confused state, the words of my fathers come into my mind as a I say `Wanya wanya tateka ichalo`

Politics are now Politricks, they are now a dirty game which have left the country with unforgettable scars. Back then then football would unite us more especially if our country was playing but now it Gives us heart attacks, we have become so famous in Loosing. Maybe we try Boxing where we seem to be doing fine, only then maybe will the country be united again and have one love, interaction just for one person.

We would look at the church as a house of peace and the clergy as mediators in resolving any misunderstanding, but now the church has become a political arena for political rallies, or like a cinema where politicians stand up like it is a stand up comedy show but throwing insults on their opponents. The clergy who are suppose to reconcile the troubled hearts, have gone for a dollar like it is Mr Crubs in Spongy Bob square pants. They have taken sides and the members are lost being lukewarm is hard but the dilemma has become their name.

`Imwe bazandale mwanionengela Ziko langa, olo nilankule kuti niluta kwa mama, nizalutila kuli ziko langa ilimuchionengeko. Nilutile ku Vubwi nakwenko kuli kudonsana, Dundumwezi bani uzyia ati [bafuma kumanda mukushika Dundumwezi] nikati nilutile ku Shang`ombo nakwezi ati kuli Barotse, kapena nizapeza mutendele ka. Chitulika, nizalutila komweko`

Give me back my peaceful country, give me back my old time religion. Give me a country that was characterised with unity, where Harry Mwaanga and Kenneth Kaunda mingled freely. That great nation was greatly defined as good at hospitality. Where I can move freely in the Bemba land and eat 'ifi sahi nefi nkubala', where I can't go to Eastern province and drink 'Tobwa` and eat 'mbeba`. A country where I can go Western and North Western where I can partake in `Tute and the Opani and wear the msinsi free`. A country where I can go to Southern province, freely passing pass through Dundumwezi, Nega Nega and other parts, where I can freely drink `Chibwantu, Mabisi, eat Musohia, Chibwali. And say I'm proudly Zambia.

I'm praying for my country.