The palimpsest my beloved Mzantsi is

At one point the colours that make up the multihued, my beloved South Africa is, seemed nicely allied and resilient. These days, nonetheless, there seems to be a gap dividing these ensigns. As a result, the question to be noted insensitively points at the reasons causing such a breakage and rapid seclusion. The answer is unknown.

 

Poverty continues to heap on and this is accentuated by the number of robberies that never seems to diminish in many cities in South Africa. Of course, national statistics play a ping-pong game with our minds; unsubstantiated decreasing statistics while our neighbourhoods tell a different story.

 

Hunger has found comfort in many households. In such homes any twinkle costs thousands. Hence many negated bellies see no problem in killing a young school girl for earrings that possibly cost no more than R60.

 

It is starvation, and possibly the love for money or for the actual syndicates, I believe, that has led Nobanda Nolubabalo to hide, in her dreadlocks, 1.5kg of cocaine. Perhaps, R16 000, to deliver the drugs to an unidentified punter at a hotel in Bangkok, was worth jeopardising her life. At 23, she did not, like the drugs would have; destroy anyone’s life, but hers. However, a 38 year-old Janice Linden did not survive consequences of this despicable act. Her illicit trafficking clashed with the Chinese authorities. Hence they executed her.

 

Of course, the main dealers, in this case, are free; possibly engaging other young and unemployed hungry – even horny - women.

 

Poverty breeds crime and many people do not seem to understand this. I would love to believe I do; the indication is detectable in the animal I become while I propel my brother to do well and endure his school time as well as his teachers and what they are compensated to feed him.

 

With that being said, my dear president is an excited man who, for reasons possibly known only to him and his cabinet, persistently declares plans to create employment and to titivate the lives of the impoverished; a concept that continues to fail up to this day.

 

Happy read!

Eccentrically flawless

The face structure accentuates his cheekbones and I am called to look, but not to gaze.
He does what he does and I become inundated in his actions as he does.
My mind is here; as he speaks it follows the batting of his nicely carved lips.
I am not slumbering nor am I dead to the world.
I can hear him, he knows and I understand him and his stories.
Go on, my nods command him. I hear you, my eyes tell him. I am pleased, my smile assures him.

He speaks furthermore and I devour all the verses his lips recite.
I munch away as he feeds me.
My head is halfway. Come, come closer, my eyes converse.
I open my lips wide. He thrusts, nicely; his natter and I do not vacillate to swallow.
He feeds me some more while the surrounding stares.
Reciprocally we are nonchalant, but he cares that I’m assiduous.

Happy read!