Winners are at war

Winners are at war; belligerent and compelled to fight for what’s strictly theirs.

Their lips spit firestorms and they speak deluded insight.

We are at war with ourselves. We are at war with the colour of our own skin.

We are at war with what is right; fighting our way out of a plight.

Our complex, strong, and oh so inequitable minds emulate backbones loaded with sharp objects.

 

Winners are at war; belligerent and compelled to fight for what’s strictly theirs.

Why be happy when I can be thrilled making you dejected?

What is yours is not yours. It is mine and I will assassinate for it.

Why be rich when I can be rich making you poor?

Triumph is appealing to the eyes of those whose efforts are instinctively futile.

 

Winners are at war; belligerent and compelled to fight for what’s strictly theirs.

Brown bread and butter are not enough to those who are unschooled.

Scold poverty, and goodness and mercy shall follow you.

School your enemies, and madness and mediocre shall comfort you.

Uncouth behaviours reap more riches than the efforts of the prudent men.

 

Winners are at war; belligerent and compelled to fight for what’s strictly theirs.

Hunger has reached far deep; it’s entrenched on the grounds of resentment.

Corporate passages are unoccupied, our brothers are demanding what’s not theirs on the streets.

School doors are closed, our sisters lie in wait for answers in clinics and hospitals.

The Gods are confused. Our mothers and father are shunned. Why is our earth in flames?

Happy read!

Mr. Leadership,

I see greed and silver coating your tribal hands, fiercely.

Why is it then that my palm awkwardly covers the shame and guilt on my face?

What is wrong with my face? What is right with your hands?
 

What is this poverty of which we speak?

When your feet are flooded with the water we drink?

Who is this victim to whom we refer xa eyakhw’ inzalo ixukuxa ngobisi?

 

Yintoni na isisele xa izidywili zimunguny' iqhosh’ elingenamngxunya?

Yinton’ iqhosha elingenamngxunya kwiintsana eziqhel’ ukuhlafun’ iimpukane?

Iyintoni yona inkolo kulowo ungenasono?

 

Take my damn hand, lead me on and bend me over.

The truth I hold will never unfold.

My wasted penis throbs at the sound of your monologues.

 

I could cite excitement, but I’m in pain.

I could correctly rape newness to restoration.

But, what is to come then when I could never clean what I could have in the shower?

 

Happy read!

Thabo (eradicate indlala)

I believe that education is indisputably the best instrument towards personal development. And, I also believe that the only way I can plunge back to being poor is if I make a blunder of the prospects education has afforded me.

I believe that education is not the only lawful and correct route to putting food on the table. And, I also believe that there are alternative routes, only they require the usage of your brain with a tinge of determination, underlined by a plan.

Know that I have come to experience worry concerning you and the challenges you have, academically. The thought of you struggling to finish high school raises questions to my abilities as an educated sibling; hence self-blame unceasingly appears to arouse the feeling of guilt.

I know that poverty is a ground that breeds an environment that is damaging to people’s development; mentally, physically and emotionally.

But, know that I have come to accept and understand that there are other options you can manipulate so as to create a comfortable life for yourself.

My duties as your brother can merely go so much as making sure that you obtain basic skills that could score you a desk in an office. It is only your train of thought and ambition that can perhaps move you from that small desk by the door towards addressing blue-chip executives in a boardroom.

I am well aware that a significant path out of poverty requires a robust economy that produces jobs and good salaries. And, I am also well aware that the impact carried through the ability to raise a productive workforce can last for generations.

Do yourself a favour and defy imitating the people who constantly speak of bridging the growing gap between poor people and the rich, while unfounded are the actual actions towards accomplishing this brilliant idea and instituting it to become observable efforts.

The same voices influence young underprivileged men and women to dream big, yet no one puts an emphasis on the idea of actually waking up and working towards fulfilling that dream. As a result, your neighbours have formed part of a generation that spends most of its valuable time complaining about the government that fails them.

Beats me as to what has glued them tight on the chairs someone else built.

P.S: indlala = poverty

Happy read!

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!

Poverty wars vs. greedy potbellies

Our governing system in South African has seen the worst of days, predominantly during the legal racial segregation era which lasted for over 40 years.

Some of us have relatives and neighbours who bear emotional and physical scars as a result of the abuse that came with the segregation. Their scars narrate the era way better than lyrics that escape the lips of seasoned artists like Simphiwe Dana or the magnificent poetess, Lebo Mashile.

Victims forgave their perpetrators and races became one dominion. Black people learnt twang while white people enumerate sawubona accentuated by a notable grin. Sadness and anger vacated South African premises and oneness became the supreme head boy.

The books we read and the stories flashing on our computer screens acknowledge a positive objective that Nelson Mandela meant to implement. Due to running out of time, he merely spoke about the concept. I assume, those who were to succeed him were expected lay the actual brick on the cement.

Rightly so, the current ruling administration does not skip a day without making it known just how fuelled up it is to embark on a trail to enhance the lives of the previously disadvantaged South Africans while upholding the objective of bringing balance in racial, political and societal standards. 

This excites many people, but I am not fooled.

The efforts of the current government might have worked, in some measure. The old pensioner in the rural Natal can testify and my HIV positive relative shares the sentiments.

However, political leaders and policy makers have became short of transparency and honesty; a tendency that has impacted negatively on many communities on grassroots level.  

One would have thought the year 1994 painted South Africa clean. But, it appears the battle is not over.

We are half way through wiping racial discrimination out, but the trend of corruption and empty promises has taken several politicians by a storm.

This is why there are still households that have never had electricity. This is why, even after 16 years of democracy, there are still schools that are running short of desks, books and even chalks. Why then do we question the roof-hitting fail rate in black schools?

And, that is why many routes to Newcastle have the worst potholes any car could drive on.

It is because; the people entrusted to represent the poor and unemployed South Africans care more about feeding their own pockets and going on a bender using taxpayers money with the belief and confidence that although big brother can see them he will not punish them.

The system we have in South Africa is a joke. The politically affiliated broadcasting institutions have proved this.

No, not by doing their job of reporting – vague details – on the issue of corruption, but by chipping in on fraudulent activities that have left a question mark and a huge dent on the ingenuity of journalism in South Africa.

The people chosen to be leaders have failed to represent poor communities in South Africa and they have failed to represent this country as a society that value of humankind and human rights.

All we have in us is the hope that, in the near future, things will be better. Of course, this is if individuals learn to clutch as much education as they can and cling on it. This does seem to be the only route linking people to white bread and away from brown slices.

We need to put into practice methods aimed at providing useful advocacy tools so as to promote grassroots prioritisation in South Africa. This needs the sane people left in South Africans to work collaboratively towards a goal that will benefit everyone equally.

Or at least better the lives of poor people.

Happy read!

Who will help us?

I am a South African and I have been fortunate enough to visit –though briefly to some- five of the nine provinces South Africa is divided in; Western Cape, Eastern Cape, Gauteng, Free State and Mpumalanga. In all these provinces, or at least some of the cities within these provinces, there seems to be a large number of homeless and extremely poor people varying from toddles up to men and women old enough to be great grand fathers.

I have seen these people sleep on and wake up from pavements, some of them posing shamelessly on busy roads begging for money and leftovers from by-passers and drivers while a few of them are wondering around towns with pluck-cards  looking and asking for jobs that could at least help them chew just for one night.

All praises to the advent of democracy in 1994, because after that fateful era came prominent people who knew how it felt to starve or to be poor. South Africans voted for them to represent the country. They reassured not just the minority race, but everyone who was and is on the breadline that –even if it’s little- but they will bring help to them.

However, right in the eyes of homeless, poor and un-employable people, those figures chose to fatten their own pockets with the money that is meant to save those who are in the ‘titanic’.

Because of this corruption, greed and inconsideration, all eyes now look up, not just to the Lord Jesus Christ, but also to the owners of private businesses and community based organisations. Yes, some of these entities do what they can to help fellow South Africans by providing scholarships to promising students emerging from poor backgrounds, by implementing skills development programmes for the illiterate and unemployable people as well as empower those who are able to help others to continue doing so.

As a result of these initiatives, many have grown and matured and consequently carried on the legacy by establishing their own helpful resources and inventions. But, with all that being said and done, there is still a very long journey South Africans need to embark on in regards to shaping this country and helping the poor.

In the plight of all this, local entities that have the ability to financially support the people who help, seem to be more into providing help for countries that have been hit by natural disasters, which in the eyes of those who are poor come across as trying to make impression to other countries as opposed to feeding locals first.

Yes, South African companies MUST help other countries when natural disasters have shaken them. But the question is, how do these companies manage to provide help to Japan and Haiti when they prove to be struggling to fund an NGO that deals with homeless people in Mpumalanga, a young woman who spends her own money to equip rural students in the Eastern Cape or an orphanage home sheltering rape and HIV/Aids victims in Soweto?

Where and how do these companies get the money and the resources to provide assistant to other countries when here at home the civil society is in dire need of a small sum?

One might actually find that, South Africa is not really equipped as far preparing for when these natural disasters hit home. Perhaps Haiti and Japan will come through for us? But when?

So, in the mean time ‘we’ stay unemployable, poor and sickly while we wait for natural disasters to hit hey? Because then someone from somewhere will be willing to help?

Happy read!