Rainy Season in Zanzibar
Over the ancient town hovers a misty veil
Sombre Clouds gather above, announcing the hail.
Then heaven’s sluice open, releasing the rain
Covering the labyrinth of streets with sleet
Water is pouring from the murky skies afar,
Water is gushing from the roofs overhead,
Spouting into the sliding watery lanes,
Awnings drip on those seeking shelter from the rain.
Warry people are running soaked and wet,
Seeking shelter from the downpour’s threat
The bustling marketplace now devoid of sound
Tarpaulins cover stalls as ghostly mounds
The morning call to prayer unanswered remains,
The faithful are few to rush to the mosque’s lane
As if God had deserted the hearts of men,
Yet it was their prayers that called for the rains
On a stormy night, thunder begins to rumble,
Lightning strikes, ancient dwellings split asunder.
They start to crack and crumble, the floors tumble
In the streets, blocked by all the stones and rubble.
In the meandering debris, people find their way,
Misery's lingering grip seems here to stay,
Forodhani's nightlife, will it ever revive ?
Marriages at the Old Fort, will they again thrive?
Yet there are signs that the joy is coming back,
In the skies above, blue streaks start to appear.
Twilight descends, painting hope on the horizon's track,
The stars’ lights twinkle in the sky of Zanzibar
