By DENNIS Â ZUZE
ANNOUNCED by all the trumpets of the sky are the unwavering jubilations that have rocked the corners of our great nation.
The pages to which our national heroes belong have since been opened to flee the inspiring tales of old, thereby unveiling unto you and me that place where many thoughts never think to wander.
Such is the â€˜message from the archivesâ€™.
The sound of drums is not a warning of danger or a declaration of war.
Neither is it an invitation to an important ritual like it was in the time of our ancestors.
The pattern of the melodious sound and the echoes in the air seem to carry no ordinary news.
They echo a special anniversary, a gold-coated jubilee cerebration that is upon us. It is the 50th independence anniversary, and all corners of our land have given testimony to this.
Kumusanza in the south they have seen the colour of freedom; touched by those in the North-Western is a symphony with a beautiful sound of prosperity.
Akumawa, who dwell in the east-most places of our country, loudly proclaim the golden morning sunbeams of peace that shine on them.
KuLubemba and other places of the north are a rumour that the heavenly mansions of justice exist in abundance.
My sharp ears have heard of the breeze of harmony and tranquility from the Zambezi River that has not stopped blowing through the Barotse plains even to the Mosi-o-Tunya.
The â€˜agricsâ€™ of Chisamba and the farmers of Mkushi have said that in central Zambia stands a palace of achievement, which is the crown of their efforts.
The morning dew of joy has also been seen extending its virtue from the dwelling of the Lambas to the banks of the Luapula River via the Pedicle Road.
It is not strange that a people are in jubilation everywhere.
Expressions of great joy and triumph have engulfed their hearts and the jubilee of golden makeup, rings in the ear drums of the sons and daughters of this day.
It started way back in this land devoid of a port to the sea, when the thought pattern of the dreamers of old awoke the sleeping giant in them.
They resolved to go on scaling the mountain of oppression, a tragic journey with blood on the dreaded path that would give them the opportunity to view the beauty of the plains of independence to which they intended to go.
They saw it imperative that climbing to the summit of the mountains that were before them was worth it if were to realise the dream of independence for Mother Zambia.
These were men and women of honour, most of whom we will never know and are unmentioned, not even in the accolades that have come forth.
Yet we hold them dearly as they were unfazed by obstacles, perpetual in their desire against the odds.
They are the true patriots who never dishonoured the cause of freedom and justice, which today are supposed to be the uncompromised pillars of our wellbeing.
They held on to their resolve and steadily focused their thought forces upon the object that had been set before them.
The bells of patriotism had truly been heard in this land, where 72 peoples (tribes) emerged to answer the call of independence and to behold a transition that made Zambia sunbath in the golden sunbeams of freedom and glorious morning of self-determination.
If these we have not lived to achieve to this day, then dear reader,Â it is time to re-assess our priorities and re-define the true meaning of freedom to include the heavenly mansions of responsibility, love, justice, and honesty and integrity.
The archives have spoken, and give testimony of the impact of these great men and women whose great achievements.
They deserve to inhabit the sacred pages of our history.
Therefore accept the lyrics of the song at hand, whose melody blossoms to expose virtue unto us.
Close not your ears for the archives are outpouring with messages of freedom in the resounding echoes of the golden jubilee!
The author is a student of project management with Cavendish University. email@example.com
By DENNIS Â ZUZE