HERE’S TO FREEDOM!

Sketch by Dockzeen

Growing up during the days of the 1980’s uprising, was a tumultuous time of seeing, and the unknown. Comprehending the violence that came and went sporadically – a Mellow Yellow, a Hippo_ shipping soldiers in and out of the townships.

Petrol-bomb-totting comrades, the so called banned terrorists, crawling and dodging rubber-bullets, bleeding on hands and knees: Cadres of the exiled, of the wrongfully imprisoned, and of those that will never be seen. Our comrades, cadres of a shout and silent cry*     

Inside the State of Emergency, in Katlehong, Soweto and Tembisa – innocently, I saw the remnants of the wordy acerbity of political dogma of a Nationalistic State.

On ‘Black Christmas’ our clothes were old rags, the new ones tucked away, to be seen in good times, usually Sundays - food supplies, shopping, goods-delivery-trucks; anything that came from town, was banned. Our mothers and fathers shoved into police vans for passes. Nothing came in or went out.  

In the brink of political suffrage and democratic freedom, during the Codesa 1 and Codesa 2 talks, not long  after Mandela’s release and the unbanning of all Liberation Movements.

A choir of singing machineguns, was heard afar and nearer to home. It was the 1990’s, and Katorus (Katlehong and Vosloruss) were drenching in violence, and blood of hotel dwellers, and household owners. Streets were blocked with stones, makeshift blockades - those that did not pronounce R1.00 (One Rand) with the location lexicon or colloquial way, felt the brunt of the locals.

One night during a World Cup soccer match, in Katlehong, adjoining the open field that separated my home from Natalspruit Hospital, a field that is used by taxis and buses to collect and transit locals to Johannesburg, Germiston, Soweto and places far afield as Transkei. Men were awaiting an attack…

My home’s windows were laden with blankets, to cut the light from our television set from emitting into the dark streets_ a man screamed, pleading not to be hacked to death, another shout: “Look out!”_a gunshot. More gunshots. I switched the television set off, when Italy was in the penalty area. More shouts, nearer now, gunshots, footsteps, running. A stop. Running again. Shouts. My home’s backdoor butted, it was locked and bolted, another bump, much harder this time. Nothing happened. Gunshots into Letsoho Street, footsteps of men running, over the fence they went. Gunshots, gunshots, gunshots, more men in pursuit, over the fence. A ringing. Quiet*

WORD TO THE FREEDOM REVOLUTION

Linda Sakazi Thwala

DAYS OF MY YOUTH

Sakazi

Remembering the days of my youth – when we, my friends and I, use to attend our Youth Club, Impumelelo Youth Club. It was the days of the country’s political maieutic, a social change and spiritual birth that will lead our country, South Africa, into a social infusion – Black and White, Coloured and Indian were to walk, and think the same autonomous attitude.

We, my friends and I, were youth and eager about the world _ dreaming of things to come and things to be - the flattering of youth.

We belonged to a youth club that kept us off the dusty streets of Mambisa (Tembisa) and took us to the seductive stage of dancing, singing (mostly miming to famous groups and songs) acting (our own material) and dreaming of....getting the girls. I don’t know whether the girls in our crew dreamt of getting.... the boys, I certainly didn’t ask.

We did not play sport in our club, Impumelelo Youth Club - however, we did organise Sports Day once, to get our community in Tembisa, particularly Hospital View, involved in youth activity.

I remember, Zimi, Kenny, Jabu, Delina, Daisy, Lerato, Andrew Coach, Matsila, Tsibo, Mpho, Meketsi, Dumisani, Phillip, Nhlanhla, Prudence, Gift, and you. Yes, you that I forgot to name.

We went to places Kenny organised for us to go to. We saw people, we saw females...sorry, fashion_ we made friends.

There was no Facebook back then, there was Kwaito Music, Politics, Dreams, Festival, Street Bash, more Dreaming, YFM and the SABC (South African Broadcasting Corporation)

Days of my youth******

WORD TO THE YOUTH REVOLUTION

Linda Sakazi Thwala

A SOCIALLY BLINDED ATTITUDE

In a socially blinded country, people who are ladled to destroy other people’s lives, are blinded by their individualistic ideals, filled with misdirected extremist implementations.

Most of the time, such misdirected extremist implementations, is propaganda that dogmatise extreme dislike in one’s ideals, belief and ways of living. Hence, people who are deemed to be social misfits, are those who do not conform to a particular, popular way-of-living.

People who are ‘nonconformists’ in their way-of-living, are often perceived as abnormal, in contrast to what is  in contrary lifestyle trendy, or culturally, collectively acceptable.

In our society there is a cluster of idealists who band together to belittle and alienate individuals who are nonconformists to their way-of- living and ethical beliefs.

However, the dilemma in these groupings, is what the cluster is propagating as ‘truth’ and ‘acceptable way-of-living’.

If you drink a pill and that pill makes you feel good, it is not a guarantee that the same pill will make the next person that drinks it, will also feel good*

When an individual believes that going to the ‘Busy Corner’ and believes in concerting in unsolicited sexual swinging relations. It doesn’t mean that the person that goes to church or stays indoors when that person is ‘busy cornering’ their lesser of a person to them.

That does not make you more ‘socially’ accepted and them ‘social blinded’ unacceptable or antisocial. Just as being a swinger doesn’t make you more clever, than that dull Johnny that doesn’t play a lot.

Extreme dislike in one’s ideals: A non-drinker will be labelled a ‘social misfit’ by believing in their teetotalism in contrast with their believes. A scholar will be branded as such for being a scholar. A straight man will be called Gay for being both a scholar and teetotaller. What is a social norm, will be a social abnormality to those who gang up together and brand social normality as ‘Beastly’, ‘Antisocial’ and  ‘Evil’ *

An individual’s sexual orientation, is private, a choice or hereditary condition. Whether you are a homosexual, bisexual or heterosexual, that is your choice, or hereditary condition and your business.

However, that does not give you the right to tell or force another individual to be what you are, when feel unbecoming in their choice or  hereditary condition. 

Extremist implementations are the ones that lead an individual to be ‘anti-social’ and breed ‘alienation’.  

An Anti-Social attitude needs a ‘mirror image’ of themselves, they need ‘control’, they need ‘power’ and  they need ‘praise’ in whatever way possible. And when that doesn’t happen the seemingly social becomes a killer to feed their narcissistic need* 

An Anti-Social individual breeds hate to win favour.

Like the Pastor and Father that lives down the road.......

WORD TO SOCIAL ACCEPTANCE REVOLUTION

Linda Sakazi Thwala

MECHANICAL-LOVE GENERATION

Loving relationships between couples are taking an inhospitable route that paints a peremptory gauging impression that partners, in a loving relationship should buy each others’ affection.    

What happened to enjoying each others’ company without remittance, of any kind?

Being in a relationship has its own challenges, and one of those challenges is maintaining a good financial base to keep that relationship flowing.

However, financing your partner, does not mean that when there’s no finance at particular juncture in your relationship, all else break-loose, sensual pleasures seize, and the relationship is doomed to the axing annals.

If money, and only money alone, drives the loving flames which burns between two individuals, it only means one thing. It means, humans are becoming ‘Mechanical Beings’_ hard-hearten, cold, emotionally incomprehensive beings -  beings that will act callously towards their partners when it is befitting on their part.

Are we encouraging multiple partners and an unhealthy sexual life style? Are we saying, ‘It is okay to leave your partner and sleep with someone else, not for the enjoyment of love but, for money’s sate alone’? Are we saying, ‘survive, even if you drift through it, emotionless’?

Relationships are hard - that’s a fact. Is it possible to live in an age where a woman and a man do not see each other for who they are? In an age where there is no love that brings them closer together, love that leads to an emotionally constructive reproduction, which will add intelligent worth to their lineage - not just broken measure* 

If as an individual, I will skip from one partner to the next by the measure of their pocket-value, then it only means, I only value myself as an infectious disease conniving harlot.

What a means to an end?   

WORD TO THE BITCHES-BREW GENERATION

Linda Sakazi Thwala

BREAD OF PERSECUTION

It  is a shame to witness many families around South Africa making their kith-and-kin deliberately suffer through starvation.

With many countries around the world struggling to feed their own families, below a dollar level daily expenditure, feeding a family of three a day is a hard earn toll on its own, never mind a family of five or more. Here in South Africa, we are privileged to have a much fortunate level of daily surplus to be able to share with others. However, the spirit of sharing is annulled by greed, judgements and perpetual verbal, emotional and physical abuses that ensue in many households around our country.  

What will you earn by starving a family member, because they are at a disadvantaged possession, through work or ailment?  

The ironical thing about individuals that perpetuate such ills, not to exaggerate the fact, are good, well earning, churchgoers who stand in the face of belief and claim to protect their own. Alas, to starve them out of their families.

There are outright vindictive Mothers and Fathers out there, who can afford to feed their families but choose not to because, they feel the need to be feared, not because they fear sparing-the-rod. Hence, create an endless circle of adult to child abuse, which reveals  itself through posterity.

Hence you find nephews and nieces who feel the need to avenge their ‘fathers’ for abandoning them through starving their uncle to death*   

There are unassuming women and men out there who starve their spouse because, they feel the need to ‘control’. And feel the need to be the head and be heard at whatever cost,  when they have a job and the other doesn’t.  

Others preach the holy word, ‘fasting’ to instil their misguided suppression. Yes, it is truth that God comes closer through ‘fasting’, however that ‘fasting’ period must be rightly guided through a ‘Spiritual Journey’ not through callously starving children who don’t even know why they are ‘fasting’ in the first place.  A starving mind doesn’t comprehend anything*

Jesus Christ did not handout bread as a symbol of death and repression, how he gave bread as a symbol of life and cultivation.

In any case, outright starvation leads to delusion.

Many families in countries such as a United States of America and Britain, noteworthy G8 members, go to Feeding-Stations every midday or evening to line-up for sustenance, in order to make it another day.   

It is one thing to help a family member out, and another to spoil them rotten. Giving a supporting hand means not giving up on that person, BUT starving them is equivalent to killing them.

Others eat to live, while others live to eat, however you put it, one can never use food as a weapon of suppression. No one in their right state of mind uses bread to persecute another.

WORD TO THE BREAD OF PERSECUTION REVOLUTION 

Linda Sakazi Thwala