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Fortune Rice - A Dissident Writer from Zimbabwe

Fortune Rice, a writer and poet from Zimbabwe

Fortune Rice
A Dissident Writer and Poet from Zimbabwe

Still I'll Rise

You may write me down in
History
with your bitter, twisted
Lies
You may trod me in the
Very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll
Rise...

(Taken from "Still I Shall Rise" poem)

Fotune Rice is a Zimbabwean poet, author and human rights activist currently living in exile in Norway.

A natural creative writer who pens his own poetry on a daily basis, Fortune started his music career while at secondary school where he got involved in public speaking and debates. "The source of my inspiration is my social background and the society at large," says Fortune. "I feel at ease in cutting open the institution of rulers and the corrupt no matter what levels this takes place. I feel I have a duty to report on the positive and the negative taking place with my people and the world at large."

To-date, he has performed alongside the best of Zimbabwe's cultural performers and poets. In 1998 he appeared at the Inxusa Festival which is produced by the world famous Amakhosi Theatre Company. The festival is southern Africa's most creative and entertaining cultural event, bringing together hundred of musicians from across the globe and thousands of local as well as foreign tourists who flock to experience this annual cultural explosion.

Fortune's style is a blend of recital and singing accompanied by the sound of the revered Mbira (hand piano) instrument. He also recites poems from the slain Jamaican poet Michael Smith.

At the African-American summit held in Harare in 1997, Fortune performed at the five stars Meikles Hotel where his lyrics fell foul with the hotel's management who felt his poetical tirade was highly political and critical to the regime of Robert Mugabe. He has also performed at the 1998 Zimbabwe International Book Fair.

Fortune has also appeared on local television station, AM Zimbabwe and the popular ZBC Radio 3 programme.

Fortune Rice is a holder of Bachelor of Arts Hon. (English)

Lullaby

Sleep
Oh child sleep
For tomorrow is sour
Tomorrow mother is gone
No more lullaby
No more breastfeeding
Endure lucrid tastes of bottlemilk

Mother is gone
No more to be seen
No more to be heard
No more to feed you

Stand up as a man
Face the bitter consequences
Sleep
Oh child sleep
Tomorrow they will laugh at you
Repopulate griefs and pains
Lullaby will be no more
Mother no more

They will inflict pain in your bossoms
They will inroad hot iron-bars
Into the grey matters of your brains
They will tweeze your brains
With a thweezer
Mother will be gone
The sun never rises again
In times of persecution
In times of loneliness
They will never stand up for you
In times of desperation
They will only stare at you

Stand up as a man
Rise
Oh child rise
For it's a long road
Full of thorny
Vicissitudes
Rise
Oh child rise
For the ending ofthebegining is nigh

The road is full of melancholy

Endure
Oh child
For mother is no more
When you feel throbes
Of death
Beat down the corridors of your
Heart
Pray oh child pray
For God is for everyone

Stand up
Oh child
Fight as a man
Always remember
The world doesn't owe you a living
You owe the world a living

Read whatever is exposed to you
Tomorrow might be brighter
Do not forget
You will never wear napkins
the rest of your life

When all said and done
You will sit and laugh
You will feel chains
Of renewed beginning
Spin down your veins

All hell would have broken loose
Rise African child rise.

By Fortune Rice.