[Setting: Khayelitsha,Cape Town. South Africa]
This piece does not excludes any ethnical group. Based on familiarity to this specific cultural group (the Xhosas) , i manifest to you the day in the life of an mentally and emotional abused woman with an abused man. Abuse comes in many forms,regardless of the gender it is not okay and it is contagious.
Be open minded and enjoy.
The first time I heard gunshots
was before i could write down my own name.
A blood pool,
my neighbor's son
on the floor.
My neighbor's wife,
she was begging an armed man.
I heard her say
"please don't do this".
I ran back to my mother,
not realizing that
my lack of silence would result
to the torch of a man.
I know he died on my account.
That changed nothing,
the next day I was at school
like nothing ever happened .
Days after my first bra,
i had to learn how to be a woman.
This was before i even wore sanitary pads.
Mamela,there is a logical explanation here.
My uncle,an alcoholic gambler
auctioned my body
to who he thought was the highest bidder.
For what?
-a case of black label.
"Sis,you are old enough" and
"serve a man fresh thighs"
That's what the women in my family told me.
But I ,
I was always alone when he came back to our
"home sweet home".
He was driven by not so sober lust
and violence that was passed on to him
by his father.
no excuses,but
thats the only way he saw love
being given to his mother.
My madam told me about equal rights
"In my community that's disrespectful"
i tried to explain.
It made no sense,
how could I stand up
to a man that owned nothing.
Why would I want to be equal
to a poor man?
my man.
"black women
cannot be feminists"
Look at me now.
I am a HIV positive teenage mother.
I am changing dirty diapers
instead of paging longed for varsity books.
An increase in youth unemployment.
Just a statistic,a number
that's standing in a SASSA line
feeding on my children's grant.
Yesterday I prayed for today.
today I'll pray that I'll make it to tomorrow.
But what can I say,
it's just another day in the ghetto.
ČTEŠ
honey coated nightmares
Poezieit tasted like butterflies the ice cubes floating in lemonade . I soaked the sun, making room for the moon. the stars twirled to your voice. Your velvety...
