Once upon a time, not so long ago, the people gathered in the streets and alleys of their villages and townships, under the trees in the courts of their villages, in the church halls, in the schoolyards on weekends, in the trains and buses on their way to work; they spoke and sang for many hours on end. Some got off the buses and trains in the stations along the way; others jumped in. They sang and spoke some more, and the newcomers joined in the song and dance. In the mornings on the long way to work in the cities, and in the afternoons on the way to the shantytowns on the edges of the city, the energy was the same. No amount of back-breaking work in the service of the superior race would interfere with the songs of freedom and revolutionary dance. They sang about the great leaders they would have after freedom had been won. The songs were composed on the spot, modified from church and folk songs so people could sing about the new country.

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