Is poverty leading us to the stagnant sea of prostitution? Is the pauperism playing a role in tarnishing our image? Is paucity injecting a lethal poison in our morals?
Roots that are deeper are not a victimized by frost, the winds cannot overwhelm with malice song a forest. Where is my line? Oh gods of past clock Where are my forefather tales? Oh ruins of my past
Lord I am just another activist in silence.Let my books speak what lacerates deep into my spirit. Tapiwanaishe Pamacheche
WE WERE BLACK AS THE ASHES OF THE SUN STOOD UPON US. WE FELT IT, WE FELT IT IN OUR BONES WHEN THE PAIN OF BEING INFERIOR FESTERED ON OUR SKIN. WE LOST OURSELVES IN THE CONFUSION OF CONFLICTS OF SLAVERY. I WAS BLACK WHEN THE OCEAN STOOD ALOFT AND UNDERSTOOD MY TEARS. I AM STILL BLACK EVEN IN THE DUSK OF THE OCEAN AND PAIN OF BEING ABANDONED INSIDE THE LAND OF NO JOY. TAPIWANAISHE PAMACHECHE