Rushing towards the closing elevator doors, she thumped her foot on the ground out of frustration. The same frustration was quickly evaporating in her because soon the doors opened once more and she thanked the Almighty that she wouldn’t be so damn late! Walking in, she smiled and said good-morning. The answer to her greeting puzzled her but it seemed innocent and sincere. “You’ve got a beautiful smile,” was what this stranger had said. Flushed with appreciation and acknowledgement, she engaged herself to the small talk that carried on from 5th floor to Ground floor. Walking out the building, she didn’t expect that some elevator man would ask her if he could give her a lift to Wits. One thing that surprised her more was her reaction to this aura of his that was drawing her in. Maybe she agreed because she knew how late she was, but that icy morning was one far too complex for her to understand...
Sitting in this stranger’s BMW for just over two hours outside Wits, was an experience of a lifetime. Mu was his name and boy did he have great hair! It was long brown hair that was just touching his shoulders, curly, soft, and frilled. Mu had dreamy brown eyes that were big and eyes that had seen a lot, so much that a 500 paged novel could never cover. Mu was a not-so-tall man with a well fed body, big boned or simply well structured, with a seemed to be beer-belly. He had a light complexion that dwelled between Coloured and Indian skin. Mu had dark juicy lips, a typical Indian button nose, thick eyebrows and a short chin with chubby cheeks. Mu had a ring pierced on his right eyebrow which had a small blue ball attached to it. Mu was handsome, inviting, mysterious, experienced and knowledgeable. He wasn’t what she had expected at all she had thought, when they were sitting in the company car.
She looked him straight in the eye and listened intensively. He fascinated her with talk about society, capitalism, work, retirement and a brief overview of his life. They listened to some music and found that they had similar taste except for reggae and deep hip hop. Mu had the cutest laugh and he glowed when he chuckled. He told her he appreciated the fact she listened to him. As time went by, she honestly didn’t want to go. All she wanted to do was sit there and listen to his wisdom and to talk about the world and it’s under current corruption.
He wanted her number but he wouldn’t give her his. He told her about his ex-wife and their child. He has been divorced for merely five months and he was still hurting, bruised, crushed and heartbroken, and was hoping for her to return to him.
His ex wife was a beautiful young Afrikaner woman. She came from a very wealthy family. She was the only child and she was given the universe on a silver platter. When she met Mu in London, she knew that there was no turning back. As they flew back together from London, she thought of what her father would say about his little girl growing up and finally wanting to settle down.
“We stood at the door and waited for someone to open the door. I was so nervous, but I was excited because I wanted to be with the woman who was standing beside me”, Mu explained. As the door opened and they entered her home, he was seated in the living room and she was upstairs freshening up. When her father strolled into the living room, he was rather unaware of this unwanted guest sitting in his house. He was as polite as expected and his daughter walked in just in time to introduce Mu to her Pa. The act her father put up lasted long enough for the two love birds to decide to go to India to elope. Once there, she married Mu and became a Hindu wife. Their cultural differences were never an issue and they seemed to love each other unconditionally until they ran out of money. They then decided to come back to South Africa and find a place to raise their growing son. When the news of their elopement reached her family, the father bought them a house close to his own. “The man is a mastermind! He didn’t buy that house just so that he could see his grandson grow up in a good home, but rather to get rid of me and take my son away from me.” Mu knew that his race would come in the way of his happiness. The worst part of it is that he is a mixture of so many different ethnicities. As time passed, the child was taken away from them and he was seen by the law as an unfit father, even though he took care of his son since his very first cry. The mother’s mind was brainwashed by her parents and she ended up not being there for her son during his early life. The father loathed Mu but he didn’t understand why they would want to take his son away from him.
Why is race such an issue when it comes to relationships? Multi-relationships are a challenge but they shouldn’t be. We are all human, whether we are Black, Coloured, Muslim, Zimbabwean or White, why should the colour of our skin or where we come from be more important than happiness and love? Why is it that the wounds of our past refuse to heal?
Mu has not spoken to his son for three months now, and he just wishes that he could have full custody of his one and only son. “The doors which open to happiness and true love have closed for me but the window of opportunity is still open,” said Mu with a smile.
Sunday, May 23, 2010
No entry
As a pupil in Laêrskool Louis Trichardt, I was tormented by white Afrikaner boys because of my short tiny body and my big eyes. Most the white people thought I was cute, so they would often defend me and try to protect me from the bullies. “Kort kaffertjie” and “Groot oë” are only some of the names they would call me. As time went by, I grew a thicker skin. Their actions and remarks just bounced off me, and that benefited me in Hoërskool Louis Trichardt because now I could grow into a strong individual.
The hound would not stop barking when I was there. Its bark was loud and vicious, yet I had no fear. Why would I be; we had one in our house too...
As we entered, he held my hand and led me into the house. The distinct smell of roses filled the room. The porcelain vase in which the roses were in was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. The family portrait against the peach wall was painted by his cousin. The cabinet along side it was carved by his grandfather. The different curves and the wood that was used, made it look so ancient, even though it still shined. The cabinet, which apparently has been sent down from one generation to another, is the one thing that he does not appreciate.
When I was seated along side him, I could not help but notice the twinkle in his hazelnut eyes. His skin looked smoother and creamier than usual. His thin luscious pink lips revealed his Colgate smile and deep dimples in his cheeks. “My mum will love you!” His voice sounded in my ear and his hand over mine reassured me that I will be accepted.
Philip de Beer was right, his mother did love me. She adored me and so did the sister. The mother was so sweet and we really hit it off. I was well behaved; used my fork and knife, patted my lips constantly, and chewed slowly with my mouth closed. I giggled softly at each joke and I gave intelligent responses.
But the hound kept barking...
Philip and I were madly infatuated with one another. We had so much in common and we were so incredibly happy together. His touch always gave me a chill but his thin luscious pink lips against my thick juicy lips brought absolute excitement!
While we were enjoying the dessert, the hound stopped barking. The sound that replaced the barking was a winning crying sound. I could hear the hound panting, but it started barking again, and this time it was not vicious. I saw headlights. “Mum, when is Pa supposed to come back home?” Her face turned almost pale and the sister excused herself from the table and ran upstairs. There was a rattling of keys and the hound’s sounds got more amplified in the silent dining room. The door opened, and the footsteps echoed in the passage way. “Liefie, eks terug van die vergadering,” was what turned her so damn pale!
Mr De Beer walked into his dinning room and saw me sitting along side his son and across his wife. “Wat maak die kaffer in my huis?” he barked. The fear in that room was so intense. The hound barked louder and louder and so viciously. Mr De Beer stared at me with cold hazelnut eyes which were filled with loath. He moved towards the portrait and looked at it, and then he looked at the cabinet along side it. He unlocked it and before I knew it, he had a long hunting rifle in his hand. My heart started pounding out of my chest and beads of sweat were formulating on my forehead. I stood up and said: “Ek is so jammer Mnr De Beer.” I slowly started stepping towards the door with the rifle pointed at me. The mum was saying something which I could not hear. All that I could hear was the hound’s barking and Philip’s voice in the back round, until I heard a sharp click of metal against metal. That was when I ran out, without looking back. I ran so fast that the hound could not get close enough to take a bite. I ran almost three blocks until my heart could not allow me to keep going. My body threw itself on the lawn of some corner house. I lay there, crying involuntarily for what seemed to be hours, but then, I could smell his scent hovering so romantically and tantalizingly over my nose. I opened my wet swollen eyes and Philip was looking down into them. He kept apologising and asking me to forgive him. In my heart I wanted nothing else but to be with him. We were in love...
But like a dog barking against a closed door. A door locked with chains with a sign saying ‘NO ENTRY’ maybe it is ought to be ‘WHITES ONLY’.
The hound would not stop barking when I was there. Its bark was loud and vicious, yet I had no fear. Why would I be; we had one in our house too...
As we entered, he held my hand and led me into the house. The distinct smell of roses filled the room. The porcelain vase in which the roses were in was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. The family portrait against the peach wall was painted by his cousin. The cabinet along side it was carved by his grandfather. The different curves and the wood that was used, made it look so ancient, even though it still shined. The cabinet, which apparently has been sent down from one generation to another, is the one thing that he does not appreciate.
When I was seated along side him, I could not help but notice the twinkle in his hazelnut eyes. His skin looked smoother and creamier than usual. His thin luscious pink lips revealed his Colgate smile and deep dimples in his cheeks. “My mum will love you!” His voice sounded in my ear and his hand over mine reassured me that I will be accepted.
Philip de Beer was right, his mother did love me. She adored me and so did the sister. The mother was so sweet and we really hit it off. I was well behaved; used my fork and knife, patted my lips constantly, and chewed slowly with my mouth closed. I giggled softly at each joke and I gave intelligent responses.
But the hound kept barking...
Philip and I were madly infatuated with one another. We had so much in common and we were so incredibly happy together. His touch always gave me a chill but his thin luscious pink lips against my thick juicy lips brought absolute excitement!
While we were enjoying the dessert, the hound stopped barking. The sound that replaced the barking was a winning crying sound. I could hear the hound panting, but it started barking again, and this time it was not vicious. I saw headlights. “Mum, when is Pa supposed to come back home?” Her face turned almost pale and the sister excused herself from the table and ran upstairs. There was a rattling of keys and the hound’s sounds got more amplified in the silent dining room. The door opened, and the footsteps echoed in the passage way. “Liefie, eks terug van die vergadering,” was what turned her so damn pale!
Mr De Beer walked into his dinning room and saw me sitting along side his son and across his wife. “Wat maak die kaffer in my huis?” he barked. The fear in that room was so intense. The hound barked louder and louder and so viciously. Mr De Beer stared at me with cold hazelnut eyes which were filled with loath. He moved towards the portrait and looked at it, and then he looked at the cabinet along side it. He unlocked it and before I knew it, he had a long hunting rifle in his hand. My heart started pounding out of my chest and beads of sweat were formulating on my forehead. I stood up and said: “Ek is so jammer Mnr De Beer.” I slowly started stepping towards the door with the rifle pointed at me. The mum was saying something which I could not hear. All that I could hear was the hound’s barking and Philip’s voice in the back round, until I heard a sharp click of metal against metal. That was when I ran out, without looking back. I ran so fast that the hound could not get close enough to take a bite. I ran almost three blocks until my heart could not allow me to keep going. My body threw itself on the lawn of some corner house. I lay there, crying involuntarily for what seemed to be hours, but then, I could smell his scent hovering so romantically and tantalizingly over my nose. I opened my wet swollen eyes and Philip was looking down into them. He kept apologising and asking me to forgive him. In my heart I wanted nothing else but to be with him. We were in love...
But like a dog barking against a closed door. A door locked with chains with a sign saying ‘NO ENTRY’ maybe it is ought to be ‘WHITES ONLY’.
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
My last City Press Online article
More than just a poetry workshop
By Nungo Ravele
As 32 pupils of Willow Crescent Secondary School patiently wait for the workshop to begin, there is a level of anxiety arising. A slender, light-in-complexion woman with a huge afro walks in. Behind her is a woman dressed in black with a dark green scarf draped around her neck. Silence settled in the classroom. 64 eyes looked up at these two woman in front of the black board.
Staceyann Chin and Abena Koomson are artists who are a part of the Urban Voices International Arts Festival. Staceyann is a Jamaican/Asian lesbian activist and full time writer. She first performed for Urban Voices in 2003. Abena was born in America and as an infant went to Ghana to get acquainted with family. She is a writer, performer, and has been a teacher of literature for 13 years. These two amazing artists conducted “Poetry Talks”, at the Eldorado Park school, which is part of the Urban Voices programme.
The pupils were instructed to free-write for five minutes on whatever thoughts were racing in their minds. Abena explained that free-writing is a good way to get to know yourself. When the five minutes came to an end, Abena asked how they felt about the free-writing experience. Some pupils seemed to be relieved and others disappointed that the time had gone by so fast.
Abena then had a brainstorming session titled “What is poetry?”
“Poetry is the freedom of expression through writing,” responded one of the pupils.
Staceyann and Abena then broke the pupils up into six groups. Each group had to write a poem which needed to contain two of the following words: woman, power, South Africa, colour blind and my own history. Whispers and giggles could be heard within the groups while they were sharing ideas and putting the poem together.
Staceyann blindly picked out groups to present their piece and asked the rest of the class to crit them. The poetry that was presented left the two artists flabbergasted. “I just want to take you all home with me to New York. Wow!” exclaimed Staceyann.
Abena opened the floor for questions. Questions like “Is there a career in poetry?” were asked.
One pupil requested them recite one of their own poems. Abena recited her poem titled Blacksmith Orchestra, a poem inspired by Romans 12:9-16. Staceyann couldn't find a poem appropriate enough for the pupils, explaining that they contained adult content. Instead, she read a page from her book The Other Side of Paradise.
The pupils had long lost the feeling of anxiety and replaced it with joy and confidence. With eyes glimmering and sighs filled with sadness, they said their thank-yous and left the classroom. They only left content smiles on Abena and Staceyann's faces.
By Nungo Ravele
As 32 pupils of Willow Crescent Secondary School patiently wait for the workshop to begin, there is a level of anxiety arising. A slender, light-in-complexion woman with a huge afro walks in. Behind her is a woman dressed in black with a dark green scarf draped around her neck. Silence settled in the classroom. 64 eyes looked up at these two woman in front of the black board.
Staceyann Chin and Abena Koomson are artists who are a part of the Urban Voices International Arts Festival. Staceyann is a Jamaican/Asian lesbian activist and full time writer. She first performed for Urban Voices in 2003. Abena was born in America and as an infant went to Ghana to get acquainted with family. She is a writer, performer, and has been a teacher of literature for 13 years. These two amazing artists conducted “Poetry Talks”, at the Eldorado Park school, which is part of the Urban Voices programme.
The pupils were instructed to free-write for five minutes on whatever thoughts were racing in their minds. Abena explained that free-writing is a good way to get to know yourself. When the five minutes came to an end, Abena asked how they felt about the free-writing experience. Some pupils seemed to be relieved and others disappointed that the time had gone by so fast.
Abena then had a brainstorming session titled “What is poetry?”
“Poetry is the freedom of expression through writing,” responded one of the pupils.
Staceyann and Abena then broke the pupils up into six groups. Each group had to write a poem which needed to contain two of the following words: woman, power, South Africa, colour blind and my own history. Whispers and giggles could be heard within the groups while they were sharing ideas and putting the poem together.
Staceyann blindly picked out groups to present their piece and asked the rest of the class to crit them. The poetry that was presented left the two artists flabbergasted. “I just want to take you all home with me to New York. Wow!” exclaimed Staceyann.
Abena opened the floor for questions. Questions like “Is there a career in poetry?” were asked.
One pupil requested them recite one of their own poems. Abena recited her poem titled Blacksmith Orchestra, a poem inspired by Romans 12:9-16. Staceyann couldn't find a poem appropriate enough for the pupils, explaining that they contained adult content. Instead, she read a page from her book The Other Side of Paradise.
The pupils had long lost the feeling of anxiety and replaced it with joy and confidence. With eyes glimmering and sighs filled with sadness, they said their thank-yous and left the classroom. They only left content smiles on Abena and Staceyann's faces.
Another City Press Online article
A true Samaritan at heart.
By Nungo Ravele
A day before schools closed in 2006, at some Mamelodi four-way stop, a boy dressed in torn uniform was begging.
In the icy cold morning, he went from one person to another. The boy came across a man who was rather curious as to why he was in uniform. As this man kept digging for information, he gave R5 and walked him to school.
Tosca Molemane's curiosity led to him going to check up on the boy at school the next day. To his disappointment, Dan Xulu, was not at school. Tosca asked teachers if they knew of his where abouts. Mam Mtambo helped him locate Dan in a shack in Mamelodi east.
Tosca felt so heart broken when he got to know more about Dan. Dan has six siblings and a mother. He was an introvert, shy and barely said a word. Tosca felt draw to this, and all he wanted was to keep Dan off the streets.
As time went by, Tosca got a hold of Thulisiwe, the oldest sister, and offered to give a helping hand. Tosca was a 4th year student so he could only do so much. His efforts were not seen as miniature, because he got his own family involved. Tosca helped to put Dan in St. Albans College for extra lessons. He provided the Xulu family with food and clothes, since they didn't have the means to.
The Christmas of 2006, Dan got invited to the Molemane home. Tosca's love and concern for Dan shone through, when Dan finally opened up to him. Soon Dan's progress at school improved and he became such an extrovert. The bond between the two grew so strong, that the two families are now one.
Tosca is just an ordinary South African who looked beyond a begging boy. He felt so close to Dan's life because he too had no father that was close by. Tosca also had to wear second hand clothes earlier in his life.
Tosca Molemane has been doing so much for the Xulu family for almost 4 years. There is so much that can be done to help a fellow South African. Let Tosca's story inspire you to do more for Mandela Day's 67 minutes.
By Nungo Ravele
A day before schools closed in 2006, at some Mamelodi four-way stop, a boy dressed in torn uniform was begging.
In the icy cold morning, he went from one person to another. The boy came across a man who was rather curious as to why he was in uniform. As this man kept digging for information, he gave R5 and walked him to school.
Tosca Molemane's curiosity led to him going to check up on the boy at school the next day. To his disappointment, Dan Xulu, was not at school. Tosca asked teachers if they knew of his where abouts. Mam Mtambo helped him locate Dan in a shack in Mamelodi east.
Tosca felt so heart broken when he got to know more about Dan. Dan has six siblings and a mother. He was an introvert, shy and barely said a word. Tosca felt draw to this, and all he wanted was to keep Dan off the streets.
As time went by, Tosca got a hold of Thulisiwe, the oldest sister, and offered to give a helping hand. Tosca was a 4th year student so he could only do so much. His efforts were not seen as miniature, because he got his own family involved. Tosca helped to put Dan in St. Albans College for extra lessons. He provided the Xulu family with food and clothes, since they didn't have the means to.
The Christmas of 2006, Dan got invited to the Molemane home. Tosca's love and concern for Dan shone through, when Dan finally opened up to him. Soon Dan's progress at school improved and he became such an extrovert. The bond between the two grew so strong, that the two families are now one.
Tosca is just an ordinary South African who looked beyond a begging boy. He felt so close to Dan's life because he too had no father that was close by. Tosca also had to wear second hand clothes earlier in his life.
Tosca Molemane has been doing so much for the Xulu family for almost 4 years. There is so much that can be done to help a fellow South African. Let Tosca's story inspire you to do more for Mandela Day's 67 minutes.
My other City Press article
Festivities in Newtown
By Nungo Ravele
The midday sun was warm and the cold breeze was icy. Jackets, scarves, boots, beanies and gloves. People in their masses were at Mary Fitzgerald Square in Newtown Johannesburg to celebrate Tata Mandela's 91st birthday. In the background you could hear the echo of many murmurers and the beats of house music with DJ Sbu were on the deck entertaining the crowd.
The stage had two photographs of Madiba on either side. “Working together for the common good for our nation” was printed on the bottom of each photograph. With a band, decks and huge speakers and two screens, it was almost impossible not to hear or see the happenings.
DJ Sbu's set ended and Solly Moholo took the stage filling the square with sounds of gospel. Thembi Seete's energy as she introduced each act was high and intense. The venue was well secured as stewards and guards stood out in bright colours supported by the SAPS in their flocks. The VIP tent was most protected and decorated in black. A poet recited his poem for Madiba, and Nhlanhla Nciza performed with Lungelo.
Soon after, people became busy setting up the stage for formal function at around 2pm. In the midst of this, house music was being played while Thembi sang along. The formal function included speeches by MP's and Mandela's family members. There seemed to be a really calm atmosphere when the cake was being cut. After the last thank you speech, a few of the late Brenda Fassie songs were played.
The birthday cake went past the media tent guarded by a dozen guards as though it was the old man himself. As Florence Masebe and Meshack Mavuso introduced Arthur and Chomi, their performance really ignited the crowd. Chomi's song that she wrote for Madiba was called “Prison to President.” It was a truly beautiful song. Arthur's little daughter was dancing throughout Chomi's and her father's performance. As Owami Mofokate hit the high note, the audience couldn't help but fall in love.
By Nungo Ravele
The midday sun was warm and the cold breeze was icy. Jackets, scarves, boots, beanies and gloves. People in their masses were at Mary Fitzgerald Square in Newtown Johannesburg to celebrate Tata Mandela's 91st birthday. In the background you could hear the echo of many murmurers and the beats of house music with DJ Sbu were on the deck entertaining the crowd.
The stage had two photographs of Madiba on either side. “Working together for the common good for our nation” was printed on the bottom of each photograph. With a band, decks and huge speakers and two screens, it was almost impossible not to hear or see the happenings.
DJ Sbu's set ended and Solly Moholo took the stage filling the square with sounds of gospel. Thembi Seete's energy as she introduced each act was high and intense. The venue was well secured as stewards and guards stood out in bright colours supported by the SAPS in their flocks. The VIP tent was most protected and decorated in black. A poet recited his poem for Madiba, and Nhlanhla Nciza performed with Lungelo.
Soon after, people became busy setting up the stage for formal function at around 2pm. In the midst of this, house music was being played while Thembi sang along. The formal function included speeches by MP's and Mandela's family members. There seemed to be a really calm atmosphere when the cake was being cut. After the last thank you speech, a few of the late Brenda Fassie songs were played.
The birthday cake went past the media tent guarded by a dozen guards as though it was the old man himself. As Florence Masebe and Meshack Mavuso introduced Arthur and Chomi, their performance really ignited the crowd. Chomi's song that she wrote for Madiba was called “Prison to President.” It was a truly beautiful song. Arthur's little daughter was dancing throughout Chomi's and her father's performance. As Owami Mofokate hit the high note, the audience couldn't help but fall in love.
City Press article
Tata Rolihlahla hits the big 91
By Nungo Ravele
South Africa's former president, Mr. Nelson Rolihlahla Mandela, has been nothing but an amazing global icon. He has touched so many people's lives and continues to inspire people to this very day. His presence is heart felt and his touch brings such peace.
Madiba this year is being honored in a whole new way. 2009 marks the beginning of the annual Mandela Day. Nelson Mandela Day was carefully thought out by the Nelson Mandela Foundation collectively to provide an opportunity to transform the world through community service.
In order to celebrate his 67 years in politics and activism, people around the world are encouraged to dedicate 67 minutes of their time on July 18th. In those 67 minutes, one should lend a helping hand by touching someone's life that is less fortunate in any way possible. The power to make an imprint is in our hands. It should be an opportunity to fight poverty and promote peace and reconciliation.
Huge number of events will take place around the world on Mandela Day.
There is a concert, taking place at New York's Radio City Music Hall, which will boast a range of artists from all over the world, including Stevie Wonder, Alicia Keys, Wyclef Jean, Aretha Franklin, Loyiso Bala, Will.I.Am, Jesse McCartney, Cyndi Lauper, Zucchero, Josh Groban, Baaba Maal, Angelique Kidjo and the Soweto Gospel Choir. There are many more guests invited like Queen Latifa, Freshlyground, Morgan Freeman, Forrest Whitaker and many more.
Around South Africa alone, there are around 56 listed events on www.nelsonmandela.org/
One of the main events is in Johannesburg at Mary Fitzgerald Square, in Newtown.
The theme is “Working together for the common good of our nation.”
Artists like Winnie Khumalo, Arthur, Chommie, Zamajobe, Kwela Tebza and Kunle Ayo from Nigeria will be present.
Performances by Taliphani (Venda Dance), TK Dances and Sechaba will entertain the mass audiences throught the day.
The event is on July 18th from 10am.
Free
By Nungo Ravele
South Africa's former president, Mr. Nelson Rolihlahla Mandela, has been nothing but an amazing global icon. He has touched so many people's lives and continues to inspire people to this very day. His presence is heart felt and his touch brings such peace.
Madiba this year is being honored in a whole new way. 2009 marks the beginning of the annual Mandela Day. Nelson Mandela Day was carefully thought out by the Nelson Mandela Foundation collectively to provide an opportunity to transform the world through community service.
In order to celebrate his 67 years in politics and activism, people around the world are encouraged to dedicate 67 minutes of their time on July 18th. In those 67 minutes, one should lend a helping hand by touching someone's life that is less fortunate in any way possible. The power to make an imprint is in our hands. It should be an opportunity to fight poverty and promote peace and reconciliation.
Huge number of events will take place around the world on Mandela Day.
There is a concert, taking place at New York's Radio City Music Hall, which will boast a range of artists from all over the world, including Stevie Wonder, Alicia Keys, Wyclef Jean, Aretha Franklin, Loyiso Bala, Will.I.Am, Jesse McCartney, Cyndi Lauper, Zucchero, Josh Groban, Baaba Maal, Angelique Kidjo and the Soweto Gospel Choir. There are many more guests invited like Queen Latifa, Freshlyground, Morgan Freeman, Forrest Whitaker and many more.
Around South Africa alone, there are around 56 listed events on www.nelsonmandela.org/
One of the main events is in Johannesburg at Mary Fitzgerald Square, in Newtown.
The theme is “Working together for the common good of our nation.”
Artists like Winnie Khumalo, Arthur, Chommie, Zamajobe, Kwela Tebza and Kunle Ayo from Nigeria will be present.
Performances by Taliphani (Venda Dance), TK Dances and Sechaba will entertain the mass audiences throught the day.
The event is on July 18th from 10am.
Free
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Free-write
My soul feels rather uneasy.
My heart beats with a pace that astonishes me.
My breath filled with mint, hisses through my teeth.
I tremble as I write this.
Pause
Relocate my thoughts.
Smells of hair food, perfume, dust, sweat, paper and ink.
The wood of this school table only drifts me back to my high school years.
A deep breath in....
A deep breath out...
That uneasy feeling still hovers.
I try and shuffle my thoughts,
but now I need to close.
My heart beats with a pace that astonishes me.
My breath filled with mint, hisses through my teeth.
I tremble as I write this.
Pause
Relocate my thoughts.
Smells of hair food, perfume, dust, sweat, paper and ink.
The wood of this school table only drifts me back to my high school years.
A deep breath in....
A deep breath out...
That uneasy feeling still hovers.
I try and shuffle my thoughts,
but now I need to close.
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