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Fortify Your Nutrition The elite dines recommending balanced diet. “Balanced Diet,” nutritionist lectures every client. Sure I will prefer sweet over sour, Fresh fruits and corn flour. I will be only a fool and unkind to ignore Stunted children in my country under 5 years, 57% is the roar. Help all grow healthy, advocate a diet well understood. Don’t waste a single bread, galloping wine, fixing your mood. Breakfast, lunch or dinner The children here have not much to eat, and Beyond your imagination, much much thinner. I will sacrifice mouthwatering pastries Deserts and expensive meals Sugary sensations Chocolate truffles And pay last of pennies Fortifying nutrition of stunted here.  Rashid Hussain is a Manager of Operations with JSI/Pakistan working on the Integrated Health Systems Strengthening & Service Delivery (IHSS-SD) Activity. He holds a double Masters in HRM and International Relations and has worked for more than 18 years in Administration/HR/Security. Writing is one of his leisure time hobbies.
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I Am Food I am as powerful as life, but also as deadly as death. My presence springs joy and wide beautiful smiles. Faces light up and bellies jubilate. My absence brings discomfort, growling bellies, sad faces and diseased bodies. Leaders and ordinary people from all walks of life gather at round tables to discuss my present and future. Big and small machines are assembled to crush me, grind me, cut and even cook me. I am the mutton of Kazakhstan The nsima of Zambia The chapati of Pakistan The rice of Vietnam The wot of Ethiopia The ugali of Tanzania The baguette of France I may be important but am scarce in some parts of the world. The poor understand my scarcity more. Like: That frail, sick child in Central African Republic who desires, longs and craves for me yet cannot have me. That old poor woman in Chad who cannot afford me because am priced highly. That hardworking farmer in Malawi who can only have me in one form because production and processing fees are unaffordable. That other farmer in Madagascar who could not harvest me because there was drought and locust attacks. That street kid in Zambia who only has me once and survives the rest of the days on Jenkem. They say the world has enough of me to feed everyone. Yet I still wonder why some people go hungry for days. Why so many children die of malnutrition in Timor Leste. Why some women are forced to sell their bodies just to feed their children and families in Kenya. Why people still have unbalanced meals and risk disease. My only wish is to see food security boosted, Agriculture production enhanced. I wish to see a world where the right to have access to safe and nutritious food is not just on paper but in the actual homes. Where political will and commitment to achieve food security is not just a mere political slogan but a committed act. My wish is to see everyone young and old, rich and poor, educated and uneducated work together to achieve world food security for all. I AM FOOD AND I AM IMPORTANT!  Betty K. Makalu is a Voluntary Male Medical Circumcision (VMMC) Counselor at JSI - Discover Health Zambia. Her passion is serving communities through the provision of information related to health and development. She holds a BA in Development Studies.
A Food Day Haiku Theirs and ours a right food deserts be gone forever everyone's bowl full  Denish Moorthy is a Senior Technical Advisor with USAID Advancing Nutrition. He is not a poet. He likes his words to reflect the world around us, which is a rental from the future inhabitants. He also likes puns and wordplay, and seeing others laugh from a well-timed joke (and laughing with them).
Rice and Mirrors If you substitute rice for potatoes you would have my version of growing up in America. When I was thirteen and had high blood pressure the doctor said “no gravy on your potatoes,” but we didn’t eat potatoes that often and to make a difference in my diet it would have had to be less adobo juice on my rice or less salty soy sauce. How, exactly, do you tell a doctor when you’re thirteen that the example he gave is a bad one, that it may apply to him but not to me? Then there were the things we used to do like cover all the mirrors in the house with blankets when there was a thunderstorm, practices that carried over from the old world that took decades to fade from our lives. I don’t remember the first time we left the mirrors uncovered during a storm but I imagine my mother and father felt tense, wondering if our house in America would get struck by lightning, that maybe the old superstitions were still right after all these years, and after all the things they left behind. I wonder about the first time my mother and father had a dinner here without rice. Did they still feel hungry afterwards, did they feel slightly lost, standing as tall as they could on uncertain feet, in this strange, exotic land?  Jose Padua is the author of A Short History of Monsters, which was chosen by former poet laureate Billy Collins as the winner of the 2019 Miller Williams Poetry Prize. His poetry, fiction, and nonfiction have appeared in many magazines and journals, such as Bomb, Salon, The Weeklings, Exquisite Corpse, and Another Chicago Magazine. He is a Communications Specialist with John Snow, Inc.
The unwelcome addressee - A case against hunger An Epidemic gone rogue, to enormous proportions A scourge unfolding without therapy Unattended for several years, to our future medics The cure is a must find now than late Or our funeral of endless burials grows stubbornly Like episodes of a horrendous movie series Watched by elders yesterday, youths today, albeit… None posing it. Twice, fingers jittery at pressing the stop button. Cdes, hands on decks. Set sail to hunger`s confrontation Head on! A combatant Africa, mood is to rise And cease to be attacked offensively like an unarmed battalion Unable to repeal a death penalty leading us to slaughter, Yet gazetted by a mass murderer We did not deserve to die in mass graves Or our skeletons won`t heal. Placement of us; The prosecuting populace, in docks – IN ITS STEAD. This is. Like an underdog outsmarting an overrated opponent In a swift reversal of roles, but cheated. The address: Ladies; eh gentlemen too. Needed – `s food on the table! Basic. Our draught power is well alive, but Reckon if you may, our cart is before the horses. Imports galore of Cere vita, from coffers of cereals` underproduction Indeed yes, our spendthrift is swallowing necessities gentlemen; Esteemed ladies. Primaries second ranked, Scoreboards read of record buys of mealie meal from mealie-cob less, a farmer Then a throat clearing reminder Of jet legged begging visits. Ours are manymore! Armed with shiny` colourful` collecting bowels for luggage Leaves wondrous givers in awe …..did we not say “famished” at the door`s knock? A hand extended anyway, in expression of neighborliness Pitifully knowing we shall be back Out of the terminator`s sake, not as terminators of a fate A cause unresolved that being hunger, not famine`s Any greedy mother feeds self-first What follows – ‘s elaborate displays of her malnourished child For a few more drops of well-wishers` bags food full Not a tag for Mother Africa She is too beautiful Hunger cannot rob her irresistible stature She`s self-provision able-bodied A moment`s chew is worth the juncture. Natively ‘that which gets into the ear; Sits in, attentively for re-addressing’ – chawaridza bonde Perhaps a re-thinking of Zunde raMambo Seeing not the command of it, rather the commendation: families fed Possibly, cessations from subsistence will SOS Out of surpluses to threshing floors my Africa A food surplus world shall prioritize the struggler. The vision Undoubtedly, present day`s food shortage has fed; Graduates, in dark suits and navy neck ties The enlightened, of an impoverished mother land. The case Honouring of agronomists with first aid – oh food aid! At the expense of the under privileged, A hungred provider of hard labour. The lesson Until we out do hunger`s contestation Non-bickering with the other Save for, all hand on decks We set sail and act solving, an endangered tomorrow Hunger`s address long unknown Is not anymore unsaid at last! Least it had evaded our past. Hunger and disease torn There ai'nt honour in hunger Add a Black Swan, Twin evils suffice. Here is when disease squats us Just as Covid has requisited Whilst a terrible hunger knocks on As has gone on and on Hunger already had us On a gruelling exercise. One without Any physical fitness outcome. Things haven't augured well For our trapped world With Novel Corona viruses Choosing to stay. In quarters already food insecure, Both of natural And man-made causes. What will vacate premises Are highly likely us people. For a terrible death knocks on In queues for food Food first then We distance socially next It is supposed to be the plan So he or she thinks Unfortunately, he or he die First before the food queued for. Zimbabwe sits perilously All Southern Africa faces one more time A double barrage of hammering Hunger sits judging In our chambers, While disease sits prosecuting. Both not offering bail-outs We all are Guilty before conviction For hunger wants awarding us Cumulative deaths As the paid penalty. Disease on the other hand Wants us to die anyway, As if our lives are overdue. Malnutrition, from famishes Frail frames from Covid uncertainty Health has pressed the exit button What with natural disasters Coming thick and fast One after another. The employer is in a quandary To employ. A socially distant workplace Comes at an off budget penny. The employee equally is in a quandary -To rather not be employed When next is glossary quarantine. -To rather be employed Where next is household hunger. Something is amiss! The question on food provisioning, Has gotten too late to address The question on health. Has gotten less and less cure. Today, A vendor's resistance is About the stomach. If he stay indoors There is militant lack If she goes outdoors There is the face of death But Husband and wife Just won't watch children die. Someone has to risk a face off With the pandemic's jagged edge All odds against him or her Just to survive From hunger first, Then disease second Death the midway snare It pours down than rain When someone erases A family he or she is After feeding. A family he or she is After surviving. From a militating hunger Alongside a cheeky pandemic. Less than 90 minutes with hunger Palpitating, Heart and mind races up Pulsating play, Each says to the leg and arm Be without tiring. Jog like it is a final match As if 'you' carry a nation's flag Against a crude tackling A thuggish. An arrogant, And uncaring hunger! Play, With not only pride at stake Rather, knowing, with strife and sorrow Comes piggy backed - a breakthrough Today's malnutrition, Causes us to kick kwashiorkor out There being opportunity and solution In temporary demise, Never a stroll in the park... "Hunger-er-er Hunger, hunger, hunger"; Yells of a commentary box And what follows: "Hunger aghr-ah-a-a-ah"; Yells a vociferous active crowd Visibly upset...shaken too! Hands forsakingly thrown into the air. And as for we pitching up, The hearts get heavier, Our minds wade off lost a bit. Undeniably, We are with a porous defense In a tense face off. You should see us hold our heads In disbelief; disgusted utterly. Our mouths ajar, we stand akimbo We are several scores down, To unrelenting hunger Left wondering If we truly are the underdogs here. We should be having Somehow, an upper hand. Than be gullible, Needed are uppercuts, At making selves food secure. But then momentarily we stop, From quitting in our tracks. We are suddenly reminded We came for nothing else but to win Albeit we take stock of the situ Midway; even now when it is Quarter to full time Of giving it all away To undeserving hunger Which is out of question; Answer is no before you ask! No to hunger outclassing us We cannot nomore be seen Marauding our own goal posts With own goals. Instead Our have to be fill up Global warming or not Takes slick passes And a spot on strike force This won't go to extra time. Click on the file below to listen to Brian read his poem: 
 Brian Tawanda Manyati is a Chartered Secretary & Administrator and Accountant cum Poet on a part time basis. He belongs to the VaChikepe_the Poet & Publisher stable also known as HundredSailors.Poetry. Brian is a team player who works with the theme “together we achieve more”
Seven Years of Famine
Year one Seven means perfection! But is there perfection in trouble? Like... Seven years of famine Are equal to perfect years? The sky is becoming more blue than ever With excruciating pain like blue balls Bouncing in the sack for a slam dunk... The cloud has become so dry And thirsty! coughing dust, Like kids playing soccer in a dusty ground Leaving dead birds, that became Victims of the atrocities of asthma... The snakes became as vicious as ever, As they seek in vanity The Adams and Eves to take Them back to the garden of Eden With greener pastures. The lions confused themselves to The lion of Judah and fasted... Forty days, forty nights and died of hunger In the seven years of famine. This is the first year and hunger became A hazard to the human life more than AIDS. Like... If it was a disease, we would find a cure In the form of pills, but hunger just needs a plate. The orphans and the widows struggle, Their bellies rumble, while the lips mumble, The silent conversations of stigmatizing hunger But only Joseph has a fat belly because he, Managed to fill his silos in the years of abundance. “Mama, I’m hungry, I need something to eat!” The babies moan in the morning, The babies moan in the afternoon, They do the same in the evening, but in vain Because mama got nothing but tears... Tears to show sympathy to the baby _ But tears don’t fill the babies’ empty bellies. “We’ve come up with a program, to feed Every hungry kid and parent!” And the people applaud the words of vanity Coming from the hypocritical lip of politics, But still the kids look like they are carrying Guitars, with ribs showing off their frames. “More than 20000 people die daily because Of hunger!” That’s the words from the stereo but... What needs to be done? Year 2 The fathers began feeding on their seed And still found no fault in it Because the land is overpopulated. And they believe their faith Can attract the Lord and Raise the dead seed... The land feeds on our plants like vampires Everyday they're wilting like the twilight’s prey, And we're harvesting feed, For donkeys... But the donkeys Were digested last night. The male kids are working hard And receive ugly rewards like Leah Instead of their Rachel And have to work seven more years. The sun blazes like the hell fire And the daughters now believe Nakedness is the only way to survive In the seven years of famine... “We’re fighting diseases, war, crime, racism, Gender imbalance...”, the president says. “Sorry Mr. president, you forgot to mention The battle we’re fighting with poverty and hunger” A million dollar contribution from a hungry lip... “Hunger is a result of all those enemies, and If we fight them, the world would be less hungry” The president says on the pulpit... And you’ll begin to wonder whether we heard The speech with stuffed ears or the president Has no heart for the hungry? How many people love fasting? Only Christians But they love fasting when it is of their own will Not fasting when it is mandatory_ When it is forced on human beings Like some kind of appetite abuse. I saw a moving hearse yesterday I heard a touching verse yesterday I heard a crying family yesterday I read a hunger eulogy yesterday, Of a boy who died hungry... And The eulogy read, “rest in hunger” We don’t understand anything anymore Because in January it was a January disease But now it’s December and instead of Making merry as we say merry Christmas We’re dancing to the sound of throbbing bellies As we hope for a kid to cry in a manger And turn a grain of maize into a ton. Year 3 A hungry man, is an angry man The world’s in trouble because of anger. Hate has increased and love is getting extinct All because somebody preached a powerful sermon, “It’s the survival of the fittest!” The less formidable became nobodys and... Were kicked off from the domino table To the ground to feed on crumbs like a dog or... Like the Lazarus guy... Sometimes they feed on crumbs, Sometimes they feed on hunger And the intestinal organs have become so twisted Trying to improvise on the food situation. The grinding mills in the belly have stopped working As they isn’t anything to digest because the crumbs Are being digested by the teeth, Passing through the esophagus as liquid. Initial abrasion causing sores inside like ulcers Because the friction has to take place... Leaving a situation of hunger and sickness In the land and... People die regularly And... The living ran out of fat and... The way they walk you’d believe they... Are, “the walking dead” cast and... The young girls' and boys' desperation Has brought about, “humanitarian AIDS”. “We’re predicting torrential rains in this season, And we believe the upcoming year is going to Be a year of abundance” The met department feeding the public with fables But it’s like telling atheists to have faith in a god Because the rain alone can’t yield harvests When there aren’t seeds and farming equipment. “Mr. President Sir, what is the way forward... We need to know if hunger is our friend?” The public needs answers... Who has the answers? “The issue is we’re not having any humanitarian aid From united Nations and all the organizations” The president of the people, or of the office? No “humanitarian aid”, he insists but... Boxes printed USAID fly into the country daily But... They aren’t evenly distributed Because of the sermon that got preached, “It’s the survival of the fittest!” The world begins to wonder, What the causes of hunger are:
Year 4 Principles became nonsense Rules became violations Fate was twisted in the, Land by the empty bellies. The public became followers Of Michael Jackson's captivating songs “Heal the world”, “Will you be there”, “The earth song”, And became world anthems but... The questions on the tracks aren’t answerable. Everybody wants to gather at his grave Maybe he has the answers... Or not And music is the food everybody can afford The food to the ears, there isn’t any food To the stomach. Only if... We had cow stomachs, we would store Some food in them and chew again In times like these of famine. Infant mortality rates are at their peak Can a hungry mother feed its baby? Only two options we’re facing at times, A dead infant or a dead infant and its mother If I’ve to choose between the two options, I would choose option three with... A breathing infant and its mother. Hunger has left people with a few choices Nobody chose responsibility and... We’re living in a land with fatherless kids Because the father thought they were The fittest enough to survive and left But hunger made them a coward. “Mom, my stomach is rumbling” With tears streaming down the cheeks, A baby who’s being deprived of her right To eat... A baby being enslaved by pain, A baby being tormented by starvation, A baby who knows how to adapt To harsh conditions like they are cactus kids Surviving on the sun and a few grains of food. The mother is also a victim of hunger Like... The law may not even legalize cannibalism Before the mothers begin feeding on them Like... Hannibal is now getting more fans by the day Like... The world took a wrong turn and got fed Like... Mother nature is becoming less friendly. We were hungry from year 1 till now And we’ve tried being the fittest But rebelling on the state is like a solution And let them deal with purge anarchy As we’ve always dealt with hunger anarchy. Year 5 The love of food became the root of all evil To put food in your mouth, just be cynical The humanity in us just left in a radical Manner because we are hungry and wrathful. Only if our stomachs could be full We would’ve been less fools Selling our pride just to grind on grains And hunger managed to manipulate our brains. Marked territories in different regions People act possessed... It’s a land of legions Satisfying ourselves with food thrown to the ground, Nature must have confused us to pigeons. And that’s how the civil strife is funded Hunger in the midst of it all like it’s the blindfold That left us all blinded. CNN, BBC, Aljazeera, Sky news and all TV stations Are all eyes of the world witnessing the tragedies Waiting for action to be the loudest voice In the zero hunger world movement. It’s the fifth year and statistics show that More than 20000 people die daily from hunger And the mathematical calculations show Figures which can give us a heart attack. The difference between street beggars And those who don’t live in the streets, Is the term street... Because... We’re all Beggars who are hungry like hunger Is a curse... Like... We’re all almond Trees that were cursed by Jesus And our land can’t produce anything. This hunger made us feel like dead sea Residents or... The land was hit by a plague Like Egypt when Moses was... Trying to free the Israelites from Pharaoh To Canaan, purported as the land... The land of milk and honey and... Our land doesn’t have cows and bees To produce the milk and the honey. The cows died of hunger The bees are becoming fewer by the day, Because of deforestation as people seek Firewood to sell and get some cents To buy mealie meal and feed their Families in the uncomfortable years. The uprisings are inevitable And nations have been divided Requiring United Nations to work more And unite the nations that are being Pushed to the edge by hunger. Year 6 Hunger is a virus! A virus that spread to everyone A virus that has destroyed innocent consciences Leaving us in a state of desperation And that bred hatred in us And wars for food. Thieves came more alive And they not only visit in the night But whenever there is an opportunity To silence their grumbling bellies. The voice of hunger became More loud than even the voice of love... Love thy neighbor, as you love yourself... “Aah... I’m sorry Mr. Preacher! I can’t love him when I’m hungry It’s like the plate is our trophy, And my neighbor is competition And the best way to win the trophy... Is by eliminating competition!” Those are the atrocities of a hungry man Or of hunger... Or of hunger games and... We don’t have the keys to unlock the Previous level of hunger or maybe... We can try using the cheat codes... And... If it continues like this... We’re doomed! Six years of hunger And it’s no longer hunger for the belly But hunger for the body and mind To satisfy our own personal desires. Because we’ve been crippled internally By something which came to us Through ignorance or being slothful Or through issues of climate change. Hunger is a bad thing to our lives But it’s the worst thing when It is no longer about empty bellies But becomes about empty hearts. Killing each other everyday like wild animals But killing each other won’t get rid of it But it’ll definitely get rid of our existence In a quest to satisfy our satiation. Mothers now no longer have the resources To feed their babies because they’re... They’ve nothing... Even their breasts don’t Obey the child’s lips when it begins sucking And the songs of pain are put on repeat By the children, but mothers can’t Reduce the volume of the stereos. Year 7 “No pain, no gain” Does that mean “more pain, more gain?” Or pain is subjective... Or Maybe the hunger feeling is just a tickle And pain is just being underrated by Being associated with hunger? “My people perish because they lack knowledge” People need to be taught how to deal with hunger And in the seventh year, we begin witnessing Different platforms, different programs Dealing with issues of hunger. Different organizations joined hands To tackle with their mutual enemy And the future carries a torch Which shines for all to see The defeat of hunger Once and for all. We’re all waiting for the Armageddon... The Armageddon of hunger! The day abundance will dwell In our midst and manifest inside Us through fully stuffed stomachs. They spoke of fighting the good fight of faith We preach the good fight of abolishing hunger A zero tolerant world against hunger Means everyone gets a food on their table. The seventh year can change everything Hunger need to be fought head on Like we don’t need to be afraid of hunger The fear of hunger is the beginning of starvation. The Genesis of death like the revelation And a step in the abundance direction Can wipe away hunger! The motto is zero tolerance to hunger... We aiming for a zero hunger world. Used to be The growl of my anger Was always louder than the growl of my stomach But not today He looks at me in fear and wonder This stranger at the terminus, must be thinking, why is she so angry is she that hungry? My stomach was shaming me. I smile in apology I'm just tired, I suppose But I'm truly just hungry, I know Used to be A working woman could eat Used to be A working woman could sustain herself Used to be A working woman never got into stupid fights with strangers Just for the reason they were eating and she hadn't in almost a whole day Used to be Usisi osebenzayo (a working woman) Would better spend her daydreams on futures of success instead of a good meal Okay 'a good meal' was too much dreaming "Maybe just some bread" All that was gone now What used to be had changed. What is, is her hunger equaling to her anger. It’s the scraping at her stomach Leaving a hot and acid pain in her tummy Making her wish she didn't have a bloody stomach The uncontainable panicked confusion of her mind As her brain tries to reason out why the body is going for so long, unfed The rising rage of emotion as she tries to convince herself to be at peace with the lack in her stomach The hot anger that arises when she thinks how It used to be at such moments she would go buy a scone Oh wait, all that used to be, is gone. We are talking about now. Now, Going home She remembers The day she spent trying to not look at others eat And anticipates The night she'll spend Try to find sleep After a supper that's Too ugly, too small, too unsatisfying To wash from memory the past day's hunger Tomorrow she wouldn't go to work How could she manage to So hungry I mean working all day without sustenance But not going would mean being fired Sitting at home to starve To watch children turn from thin and scrawny to just ribs and bone One works, one can't eat, Nor can her family, her kids, Used to be She could feed them just cause she worked All that's gone now Click on the file below to listen to Zolisa reading her poem: 
 Zolisa Gumede is a Zimbabwean poet and story writer from the city of Bulawayo. She is driven by a passion for giving life to stories that speak for the lives of everyday heroes, the marginalized and all human beings, for we all need a witness to our lives. She loves a good laugh and a good story.
Hunger’s Curriculum Vitae Hunger Is communication That something is wrong With our way of thinking Either we have to solve It or we will perish Away with it! The stomach Knows no boundary When it comes to swallowing But sometimes there isn’t anything To swallow at all swallowing Thinness and diseases Malnutrition and Sometimes Even death! While also The food we Eating today is As dangerous as Poison slowly destroying Us from our appetite and their Deliciousness especially from our Ignorance! Food was never Complicated to eat like These days where You first read the Curriculum vitae Of your food Before your Swallow So as To know If you will Survive or not! Which leaves us this question If food has become this difficult To eat what will we eat what are we Going to be eating, today, tomorrow And the day after tomorrow? Are We eating anything? What are We eating? And what shall We eat in the future Remains our Question! We are traditionally known for eating Food! But if we are not careful enough This same food is going to eat us up All of us in return! What I also don’t understand is why Are we still starving to death yet this World has developed so much! From Traveling with airplanes to now Planning to live in Mars and At the moon! From having Traffic conjunctions to Having underground Transport system From having Technology In the cables To now having The same technology Connected to our bodies Like we are born with it yes it! We need to do something about our Food! We need to do something About what we eat and we Need to do something About ourselves Whilst we can And before We turn Into A Disaster That is too Big for us to Handle or solve! Do we really know what hunger is guys Do we really know what it is Let us carefully listen to it To what it has to say Even if it runs away From us let us Let us locate It and have A conversation With him lest we Can all strike a mutual Deal that benefits us all! If all this does not work then we will Launch a war against hunger Because he has been Destroying us for a Long time without Us doing Anything About It! The funny thing about all this is ever Since the times we started eating We never stopped eating! Continuously or with Some space in Between! Viva_2030_Viva! Viva_Zero_Hunger Global_Village_Viva! Viva_2030_Viva! Viva_Zero_Hunger Global_Village_Viva! Here's an audio recording of Mr. Chipeke reading another poem titled, Hunger's Curriculum Vitae
 Taku famously known as VaChikepe is one of the best writing poets from Zimbabwe. A two-time featured poet at the Bridgewater International Poetry Festival, he believes that poetry is a calling and he uses different states of mind, music and spirituality to define and express poetry.
Throbbing Belly When I was six, I appreciated everything they did Honestly... I appreciated! It was probably by design, or It was probably by default... But I appreciated everything... They did...Honestly! Now my belly throbs like a growling bear I honestly enjoy every moment of being, Rebellious...Divided we’ll learn how to stand! Meditating on the last night I made my jaws dance, I become as angry as a fasting lion in the jungle. But a few years ago, I appreciated everything Honestly...I appreciated everything they did! They could tell me Jesus represented A certain race, Like what!? Isn’t that racism? But my belly was full So I understood where they came from But now my belly sings the songs of Kunta Kinte heading to the west, I comdemn everything they do! Cutting nails with my teeth isn’t a hobby But a poor man’s way of feeding... Call it what you want, cannibalism or Something but a man’s got to survive! They call it, “desperate times vis-à-vis Desperate measures”... Who’s got the ruler, To measure the intensity of the desperation? I appreciated everything they did Honestly...I appreciated! But my token dropped into the manhole And I no longer appreciate! I’m starving but... It started as a means of staying healthy Until my health began falling into the same pit That dinosaurs fell and became extinct... I’m hungry...Like I could join the Lord In his forty days, forty nights fasting And still find no food to break the fasting! What option do I’ve, besides listening to Lucifer When he tells me to turn the rock into bread? A no! Is the perfect answer but my belly is empty A yes! Is selling my soul, but my belly is empty! I got food on my mind and how I’m going to get it Doesn’t matter, as long as I’m not hungry... They said, “be careful what you wish for...” What? I wish for food in my mouth And how I get it is my business And none of your business! I used to appreciate everything they do Honestly...I appreciated! But I don’t anymore because I’m hungry And hunger will kill me if I appreciate them. Playing hunger games and I’m losing, Only if I can get her to dig my ways. I’m hungry to know her...But How do I get to know her when I haven’t met her And how can I meet her when I don’t know her? Like fifty shades of grey are my hopes And fifty shades of black are my chances... So it seems like, I’ll always stay hungry. I appreciated everything they did Honestly...I appreciated! But a hungry man is what I became From appreciating their prodigality, So please pass me a plastic plate, With fruits, even the forbidden Is now unforbidden because I’m hungry.  Martin Chivaku, his birth and stage name, believes that poetry is a means of communicating with the world and as a poet, he considers himself a messenger or a tool to address issues that affect us on a daily basis. He has also written more than 250 poems and is still not stopping. He lives in Harare, Zimbabwe.
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