Sitting on the famous roadside rock

Under the shade of the old Msasa tree

By the small, still, silent stream of Moku

That ran like a snake across the vlei

A cool wind blowing over my face

And birds chirping in the old Msasa tree

My small mind running, querying, processing

My eye on the cattle and goats gracefully grazing

Lest they stray into Munjanja’s maize field at the edge

To feed on his knee-height crop of maize

And he beats the hell out of me

As he has done three times before

Nearby is the local Angican village school

A symbol of civilisation, through which many have passed

Even the villages's grey-haired women and men 

In the largely peasant, animal rearing community

And as I watched, I admired

Pupils in uniform, learning, singing

Seemingly enjoying themelves

And deep down in my little heart of hearts

I somehow knew

That school was good

For my mother had told me so

So with the patience I waited

For my glorious lifetime chancee

So I could also attend school

And recite a, e, i, o, u and a, b, c, d

And meet the headmaster and teachers

So revered by the elders of my village

And sure it did come

My first day of school

But when it did I was no longer sure

That I really wanted to go there

Clad in my oversize khaki uniform

Behind the door of the little hut I stood

For my first day of school

Was already overwhelming me

Before I even left home

“It’s time to go, Phanuel”

In her soft voice my mother urged

“Oh how you've looked forward to it!”

Still behind the door I stood

So she took me by the hand

And led me along the way

Across the small stream of Moku

Right up to the classroom door

Quietly I entered and sat down

Heralding a new beginning

And all eyes were on me