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A recorded reading of “Blood on the Marula”. If the player does not load, use the original audio source.
In the shade of the marula tree— lies a truth they won’t let you see. Ground runs red. The stories black. The pages turn. They turn them back. They say forget, it’s a brand new day— but stones remember every play. Fire still burns where the grass was charred. Scars still run where the ground was marred. Elders speak— but the young don’t hear. Fed on sugar. Sold on fear. Yet the marula stands— with roots so deep, holding memories we must keep. Don’t turn your eyes from what was done. You can’t erase the setting sun. Blood on the marula—truth in the shade. We remember the price they paid. Blood on the marula—wounds in the land. It will not fade. We take our stand. Asimbonge! Asimbonge! From Limpopo banks to coastal sand— we’ve seen the cost in every hand. If we let the story die, we lose the right to question why. So we sing the names. We keep the flame. Speak the truth. Speak the same— till wind through leaves can hear our cry, till roots hold fast and branches sigh.
Lyrics
In the shade of the marula tree Lies a truth they don’t want to see The ground is red, the stories black But the pages turn and they turn them back They say “forget, it’s a brand new day” But the stones remember every play The fire still burns where the grass is charred The scars still run where the ground is marred The elders speak but the young don’t hear They’ve been fed on sugar, sold on fear But the marula stands with its roots so deep It holds the memories we must keep Don’t turn your eyes from what was done You can’t erase the setting sun (Blood on the marula, truth in the shade) We remember the price they paid (Blood on the marula, wounds in the land) It will not fade, we take our stand (Chant: “Asimbonge! Asimbonge!”) From the Limpopo banks to the coastal sand We’ve seen the cost in every hand And if we let the story die We lose the right to question why So we sing the names and we keep the flame We speak the truth and we speak the same Till the wind through the leaves can hear our cry Till the roots hold fast and the branches sigh
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