Poem – The Wind Speaks of the Unforgotten

— From the Kalahari, Memory Refuses Silence In the shifting sands of the Omaheke, the silence is a scream, Where the bitter blue of the sky met the blood-red earth. A monsoon of malice blew from the Kaiser’s hand, To strangle the nation before its next birth. I see the iron shackles of the past grip the velvet skin of the young, A history written in lead, on a song that remained unsung.

The courageous cattle-guards rose like a wall, With spears made of spirit against the thundering throats of guns. They fought for the holy hearths and the sacred soil, The daughters of fire and the desert’s own sons. But the calculated cruelty of the “Vernichtungsbefehl” fell, Turning the garden of our ancestors into a living hell.