(No subject)

Like an illusion, life is impermanent.

Bid me farewell and Let the time to part be sugary.

Let this be not the finishing line, but my entirety.

Now let me rest.  

Baby, daddy was happy.

I lived, I wrote and I laughed.

I see, from a distance, a home considered for my kind.

Hold my hand, and know that I possess a mind in love and a place in life.

Child, let me go.

Baby, daddy won’t be home tomorrow, tell papa not to cook.

The trends of temporariness have blown and my sight has stopped as my breath concluded its chapter.

I have been told, I am to rise again. I do not believe.

I have been taught, to believe all things possible. I do not believe.

Without a trace of shadows in it, let my name take my place, in your heart and in the mind.

Let it be in your lips at the sight of grinded grapes.

And, let it remind you of love, music and laughter.

Take it with you when you go home.

I am not really gone. I am on to new beginnings.

I have a deal with destiny. She is taking me away.

Although fear crept in for a while, now I am blithe.

So thoughtless to even worry about what my fate is.

Happy read!

Scrambled workbooks, government on the rocks

The issue is not new, yet we have leading stories on it.

Many schools around the country have been without books, desks and even chalkboards for a long period, today though we act shocked and feel betrayed on discovering textbooks dumped and burnt.  

The failing rate in public schools has been a problem when Nelson Mandela was in prison, and when he came out. We were singing the same tune even when Thabo Mbeki was president, yet we seem to unwrap it as a new dawn in this Zuma era.

Hypocrites much?

We are excited at breaking the ice with our lovers in bed by conversing about how the system is a joke, along being blinded by newspapers and media houses that make money out of getting us to see what they want us to see, forgetting that we are on the grassroots.  We are the victims.

Hence we live to tell the actual effects of not having textbooks at schools. Still, we nod every morning at the sight of the same leading stories in the news.

Opposing parties have sound stands. In fact, up until recently, they represented the masses by raising questions otherwise citizens would never be able to ask. However, they too seem to be caught up in agreeing that Angie Motshekga and her office failed.

Haven’t we had enough about knowing what went wrong?  At what stage will we tackle solutions?

No. Firing Motshekga is not an elucidation. We all know our current government does not really fire under-performing servants nor does it arrest the guilty. Then why bother?

The government has never been able to do things independently. I would like to believe that is why Mbeki emphasised on the Vuk' uzenzele concept in 2002/3. Therefore, private businesses, individuals and NGOs must take action towards preventing an issue that will ruin my younger brother’s life and the rest of young South Africans who cannot be able to act on their own.

Of course, if my brother is the only one victimised by the issue of lack of resources in schools, then let this be my call and mine alone to deal with. Otherwise, entirely efforts are needed in all nine provinces.

South Africans need to stop talking and carping about issues that will never discontinue any time soon. Not suggesting violence in any way, instead one must do something that could help the two people next-door. Hopefully, the two will help five people each. That way we are truly working together to enhance the lives of our fellow community members.

This time, the issue might have ascended through Limpopo, but the Eastern Cape has been suffering for many years. What about the other provinces? Someone probe into the matter.

I am not merely urging people to read how messy our education system is on this blog, I am working on an initiative that will help my brother escape the bosh system we have in this country. In addition, 25 more needy students will benefit from my idea.

Of course, the intention is to inspire all of them to work hard and end up helping 25 more suffering souls each, just like I would have done.

What are you doing about this problem?

Happy read!

Dante’s last blog

Two hours ago, I received a call from an old friend of mine who is based in East London. My friend came across a blog that mentioned my name in it and he suggested I take a look at it.

He refused to go into detail with regards to what the blog was about or who it belongs to. He forwarded me a link; a link I followed.

The link he sent me led me Dante Bello’s blog - Raison d’être! - on a post that seems to have been his last one before he died.

What my friend does not know is that I knew Dante and I knew him very well. To me he was like a brother, to some degree and although I only met him a few times, I feel he left me, and the voices he inspired to speak freely, too soon.

Never mind his short-stay; he definitely made a mark in the lives of many black Africans.

A few dubbed him provocative and philosophical, but I saw Dante as a man of principle; a soul that craved absolute good in the continent.

Since the day I saw a tweet that confirmed his death, I have not been to his blog. So, today I went back to a place Dante introduced me to, a podium I used to challenge his ideology and a platform he used to shape views on certain political and social issues.

In my view, he used this blog to speak his mind in an effort to inspire change and build character in black people, especially those who were close to him.

Having gone through Raison d’être!’s last post, I felt the need to have that same piece on my blog. Of course, not denying the late brother of his credit in the blog.

It appears Dante wrote this post about a year ago.

Postcard From Freetown - Reflections!

Moments have gone by and time is still relatively waiting for no man. This is the reality we are faced with as earthlings. I sit on a chair on my balcony reflecting and reminiscence the thoughts that flow through my mind, words lingers to chaste.

It has been a while I put pen to paper and I can’t say it’s a writer’s block but rather I’ll succumb to the sentiment that it was a wilful decision to stop writing, read more about what others are writing, immerse myself in these spaces to acquire more knowledge, ideology, views, opinions, sentiments and indulge in the literal thinking of others.

Read more here...

Happy read!

Heart behaviours

Hello today, yesterday infested me with the other day’s love endemic.

And now, I carry a heart and, once again, it seethes

I am listening to every grain of its occurrences. I bear joy. The future is set alight.

I am not worried. The ducks on the queue. My preceding have been omitted.

For as long as it beats, I seem to excite a longing.

Not so long, yet it appears I can prolong it. Longevity is a possibility.

And now, I carry a feeling, to which I am a customary victim

As if to emulate a punishment, it hits even-handedly the sensitive parts of me.

Had my ear sought after my well narrated hurt, I would be resisting.

Body and soul.

Soul and mind.

My mind, together with my heart, ought to pursue all good intentions

Hello today, yesterday has afforded me some kind of a cure for my disease

As a result, I speed through corridors mending the cracks of the heart I carry.

I strutting with aberration

With a face painted with irrational grins, I interweave it with a constricted thread.

I welcome delight, as upcoming days bear fire blazing hours.

Happy read!

Abandoned advantage

For me personally, 2012 is the year of (certain) dreams coming true, while for my country the pressure is boiling its tail to abandon Iran and source crude oil from elsewhere, despite the difficulty we could face in securing new contracts. No need to clench round rings and cross fingers, South Africa will make a plan… I hope.

However, for institutions such as the University of Johannesburg (UJ), 2012 appears to be a year of mortification. Not so much of an enthralling entrance, considering the stampede that claimed the life of a mother, leaving several people battered in January. Couple that with the death of the 20-year old girl who passed away last weekend due to an alleged illegal abortion–gone-wrong.

This is a university that has produced a large number of professionals, decision makers and prodigies who have contributed immensely towards the development of the South African economy.

Therefore, the problem could not at all be with the lecturing method. Yet, as my former employee would have assumed, the issue possibly lies in the way the school handles its liaison with the outside world through public relations.

Surely, such incidents do occur in other academic institutions. Perhaps, what distinguishes the others from UJ is the rigid seriousness and value these institutions hold for their communications departments; not just a matter of mannerism, but by employing competent entities to help shape and protect the image of the university.  Especially from the vultures news agencies are.

Often, we interrogate the ability; some entities have, to survive horrid scandals in the face of others failing dismally to escape the results of not-so scandalous actions; yet such consequences are capable of ruining one’s image and reputation to the maximum.

My humble index finger is keen to dub the communication or PR department of an organisation, which experiences such indignity, the abandoned advantage. Having said that, a number of companies still see acquiring public relations expertise as waste of time and money. Yet they tap their cheeks whenever a small issue, that could have been easily controlled, spurts out of control.

Of course, I am no better, given the fact that I am a product of Walter Sisulu University.

Happy read!