You've arrived

June 2, 2014 at 6:55pm

PublicFriendsOnly MeCustomFamilyKagiso Senior Secondary SchoolSee all lists...Mogale AreaGo Back

Story goes you ran bare feet to the corner store. For paraffin and Lion matches. Met the sleek along the way. Scratched their backs with Mama’s change and saved yourself a slap on the head. Got home and sold Mama a tall tale about the neighbour’s dog that chased you down the road and made you lose all the cents in your hands.

Now you don’t need those, you lean against the wall and up bright becomes the room. You touch a switch and the stove goes hot, then another you will have your music.

You’ve arrived.

In the informal settlement they run bare feet to the corner store. For paraffin and Lion matches. They meet the sleek along the way. Scratch their backs with Mama’s change and save themselves a slap on the head. Get home and sell Mama a tall tale about the neighbour’s dog that chases them down the road and makes them lose all the cents in their hands.

When they lean against the wall it threatens to fall. It takes a lifetime to get the stove hot and most times waiting is their only music.

You’ve arrived.

You covered your head with plastic bags on rainy days. Stepped into poodles with dog poo on your way home. You fetched wood from the forest. You sat in circles around the fire for Grandpa’s stories.

Now you don’t do those. Car has a rain sensor and smells dog poo miles away. There’s a choice of a heater or a fireplace. And the heat can also come from under the floor. Channels have many stories.

You’ve arrived.

In the informal settlement they cover their heads with plastic bags on rainy days. Step into poodles with dog poo on their way home. They fetch wood from the forest. It takes a lifetime to get the fire burning and most times waiting is their only story.

You’ve arrived.

You took turns to lay the blankets on the floor. The biggest bed on the planet. Rested a sister, brother, cousin, friend and the visitor who lost their way. Under the kitchen table. But uncle got to use the sofa. Fought in the morning to be first to wash. This cake of soap washed all up but the visitor cleans up first, eats first even when it’s the last slice of the bread that Papa brought home.

Now you don’t need those, everyone has a room. There’s a single, double, queen and king size bed. There’s another room built for the temper, it’s the fed-up room used when Papa and Mama fight over the leftovers that no one wants to eat.

You’ve arrived.

In the informal settlement they take turns to lay the blankets on the floor. The biggest bed on the planet. It rests a sister, brother, cousin, friend and any visitor who loses their way. Under the kitchen table, even with uncle. They fight in the morning to be first to wash. Their cake of soap must wash all up but the visitor cleans up first, eats first even when it’s the last slice of the leftovers that Papa brought home.

You’ve arrived.

Help another to find their way. It is the wise who say a candle loses nothing when it lights another candle, but darkness loses a great part of itself.

You arrive when everyone arrives!!

Nelson Mandela: an inspiration

May 30, 2014 at 11:32am

PublicFriendsOnly MeCustomFamilyKagiso Senior Secondary SchoolSee all lists...Mogale AreaGo Back

I am of African descent, a child of the mocking sun, the grass that shreds the ego, the doleful moon that sends arrogance to pasture, the river that put paid to the individual long before the wind could sing or the sweat could touch the ground. I am a descendant of Phalo, from the barren lands of Mqanduli, of Amanqabe and my father pouted a bellyful from that petite beauty of Amangqosini of Cofimvamba. I am a public servant, a slave to love, yes love for my people.

When I see the cracked heels of that laughing little girl whose nose leaks as she adjusts that four-times big school-shirt which last met a detergent when it was first discovered, I stop to think…I man of the people, do I work hard enough? Would Mandela approve? When the phone rings decibels higher than the hungry urchin growing in that shack that threatens in a wink to fall, pick up to be told that the sewer is running, my streetlights don’t shine anymore-they might come for me in the dead of night, my road is crooked-it don’t come to my house, my tar road has washed away, I stop to think…I man of the people, do I work hard enough for the little child who is not fine or the big man who has a line? Would Mandela approve?

Fortune has met many of us and threw some lot our way and now what was once the dusty streets I walked and frolicked in – up to no mischief and for relief, I drive down and then I see them. The hungry eyes of the dreamers, lining up the avenues and crescents, waiting and waiting, patiently crying with a smile for the yield of the day…this freedom! Angry at dawn, they are…not a lawn do they prefer. The sick and tired who’ve gotten tired of being sick and tired. They wait for it and it’s only a three letter word…job. I cry too in my heart, I greet and they don’t return favours like that…I know. They are my kind, my friends, my sisters, my brothers and they only want it –even if it is a piece of it. A piece job, they call it. I see the big-hearted hustlers too, busy with business that’s never busy. When the traffic light turns red, I stop to think…I man of the people, do I work hard enough for the men and women who have lost their dignity because they cannot put just a slice of bread on the table? Would Mandela approve? Everyday I wake up to think, what should I not do to slight him that made it all possible. I work to make Mandela approve!! He is my inspiration and I hope he becomes yours too. He is on God’s side at this hour, and my Mama taught me that you are never wrong on that side!!