[male
vocals] (
Spoken)
Dear
Mr.
President,
His
Excellency
Mr.
Hakainde
Hichilema.
You
promised
to
cut
off
corruption
in
Zambia.
But
look
at
the
roads.
Your
police
officers,
traffic
officers
in
particular,
they
are
the
biggest
corruptors
in
the
country.
Thieves
stealing
in
a
broad
daylight
from
us
poor
and
helpless
truckers.
We
are
crying
to
you,
Mr
President,
to
talk
to
these
officers.
Stop
them
from
pushing
us
against
the
wall,
creating
fake
charges
just
to
steal
from
us.
We
have
no
war
in
Zambia.
Why
are
there
so
many
checkpoints?
Please,
Mr.
President,
remove
these
barriers.
The
engine
hums
a
heavy,
tired
sound
Rolling
through
the
dust
on
dusty
ground
I
haul
the
goods
to
keep
the
nation
fed
But
find
a
hungry
hand
on
every
thread
They
flag
me
down
with
whistles
sharp
and
cold
Their
uniforms
are
stained,
or
so
I'm
told
No
cargo
manifest
can
save
my
soul
When
greed
is
taking
such
a
heavy
toll.
Oh,
Mr.
President,
can
you
hear
our
plea?
This
corruption
is
a
chain
upon
the
free
The
traffic
officers
at
every
bend
Are
making
sure
our
patience
meets
an
end
We
have
no
war,
we
have
no
battle
cry
So
why
these
checkpoints
under
open
sky?
Take
them
down
and
let
the
truckers
breathe
We’
re
tired
of
the
lies
they
interweave.
A
fake
charge
written
on
a
dirty
pad
They
hold
my
keys,
they
make
the
living
sad
I
have
a
family
waiting
for
my
pay
But
these
checkpoints
take
it
all
away
They
look
at
us
like
prey
within
their
sight
Stealing
in
the
middle
of
the
light
From
Lusaka
down
to
every
border
post
It’
s
honesty
that’
s
suffered
most
the
ghost.
Oh,
Mr.
President,
can
you
hear
our
plea?
This
corruption
is
a
chain
upon
the
free
The
traffic
officers
at
every
bend
Are
making
sure
our
patience
meets
an
end
We
have
no
war,
we
have
no
battle
cry
So
why
these
checkpoints
under
open
sky?
Take
them
down
and
let
the
truckers
breathe
We’
re
tired
of
the
lies
they
interweave.
Corruption
is
the
rot
within
the
beam
Destroying
every
hope
and
every
dream
We
want
to
serve,
we
want
to
build
the
land
But
we
can't
move
with
shackles
on
our
hand
Listen
to
the
men
who
drive
the
gears
Who
trade
their
sweat
and
hide
away
their
tears.
Zambia
is
our
home,
our
pride,
our
soul
But
heavy
hearts
are
taking
full
control
Clear
the
road
and
clear
the
stagnant
air
Show
the
people
that
you
truly
care
One
nation,
one
goal,
but
broken
by
the
greed
Stop
the
rot
before
we
start
to
bleed.
Oh,
Mr.
President,
can
you
hear
our
plea?
This
corruption
is
a
chain
upon
the
free
The
traffic
officers
at
every
bend
Are
making
sure
our
patience
meets
an
end
We
have
no
war,
we
have
no
battle
cry
So
why
these
checkpoints
under
open
sky?
Take
them
down
and
let
the
truckers
breathe
We’
re
tired
of
the
lies
they
interweave.
Remove
the
checkpoints,
let
us
go
Let
the
spirit
of
the
nation
flow
No
more
thieves
behind
the
yellow
sign
Mr.
President,
draw
the
line (
Fading
out)
Just
let
us
drive...
let
us
drive...
keep
the
road
clear...