Land of the three mighty rivers

There is a serenity somewhere, where the breeze touches the earth and calms it. Let this breeze come again to the land of the three mighty rivers. Rivers that thunderously roar when they pour their waters like a volcano erupting hot lava; Zambezi spits out her waters over the Victoria Falls,

The mighty rivers are a wonder and a beauty; the same rivers that stand as still as a chameleon moving gently driving canoes to their banks, are the same rivers that flood the valleys.

Let this breeze calm the hearts of the anxious, the ones that worry, the ones whose hope is a spark dying in water.

Hope for health, food, education, shelter; rights that have been turned into wrongs. A hope for hope.

The rivers meet crushing against one another, the mighty Zambezi fights with the Kafue for dominance, let the breeze blow these rivers apart because their battle kills the fish in the river. The bream breathes in deeply in the depths of the of the Zambezi sinking itself to the bottom of the waters, there it finds peace, there it finds that gentle breeze that calms the land of the three mighty rivers. The wind blows above the surface racing towards the earth, beautiful, magnificence undeniably significant.

With trees spreading their branches far and wide, leaves tingling in the wind and the earth below them content.

Soil rich and pure, with natural manure, gemstones and diamonds, copper and maybe even oil, the sun glares above the land of the mighty three rivers shedding its light, transmitting its energy screaming it’s a wake-up call. The sky, earth, water, sun and wind all know what a deity this land is, they make it their duty to wake her up. They send the breeze again, its calming voice whispers between the long blades of Savannah grass, echoing its voice in the forest reserves, singing its song in the game parks but nobody hears it. The tide rises on the Kafue river, she is angry, she has drank too much blood and will drink no more, she lowers herself below her river bed, refuses to rise, refuses to show off her deep blue and mossy green waters, because she has been abused and her beauty has been defiled she cries herself to sleep at night and wakes up to loath the land of the mighty three rivers. Her sister, Luangwa, comforts her and reminds her that the land of the mighty three rivers will survive; it will thrive and like a mighty eagle float on that gentle breeze to true freedom. To social freedom, to economic freedom, to political freedom to indeed absolute freedom. Luangwa is hopeful; she has seen fire burn her forest in the daylight, rain fall at night and flowers blossom in the morning.

She holds that gentle breeze within eagerly praying for the land of the three mighty rivers.

Photo Credit: sirkondwa