When my father was still alive, he was kind of dead to me.
And when he finally died for real, I cried desperately wishing he were still alive;
Even if it was just for me.


The One That Got Away

The one that got away,
Is the one that really got to me.
The further away she went,
The closer to my heart she became.

In Hindsight, I was told to look at the bright side,
But love is really that blind
So excuse my colorblind sight,
In Hindsight.


Every time I hear the Zulu accent I fall in love
With a man whom I had once forsaken,
Almost forgotten,
Buried him under my fifty shades
Of efforts to be accepted.

I fall in love with a man I had once suppressed
Expressed resentment and shame towards
Because of his originality, uniqueness,
As cowards,
Had convinced me cowardice was life,
Death, life, lies, truth,
fake smiles in public, and real tears behind closed doors.

The person I had once forsaken, almost forgotten,
Forged death of, in a very dark night with no stars in the sky
Forging the “apparent” enlightenment for the “apparent” new me,
The new free, in shackles and chains
In a very dark night with no stars in the sky,
So dark, that I was so blind, that I couldn’t see again,
That the “apparent” new me was the reason I cry.

Buried in shame, suffocated by my efforts for acceptance,
Estranged, with whom I strive for acceptance of.
Every time I hear the Zulu accent
It reminds me of a man I once was,
were, now in despair, bruised and abused
Dysfunctional, in the dark night,
Shattered, my reflection on my broken mirror is pure darkness,
I cry, tears wet my black eye, under my black eyes
My black skin, black hair, black Pride,
Zulu pride, gone forever
With the man I had once despised
But now more than eager,
Desperate to get back.

Dear Zulu, I am ashamed
I was once ashamed of you.

There Are No Shortcuts In Life (a shoplifter’s story)

Today I witnessed a young lady (probably in her early 20s) being caught red-handed shoplifting, and was arrested on the spot. When she was kept in the store’s “naughty corner” awaiting the police, customers gave her judgmental looks and the staff passed very hurtful comments.

Just the other day I had looked at all the security measures retail shops take these days, from clothes tags, surveillance cameras, guards by the door and much more, and wondered how much these cost to set up and maintain, but figured far lesser than being prone to shoplifting.

In that compromised position she was a criminal, so the society had every right to look at her like one. The shop staff that smile each day and sell clothes they can’t even afford themselves felt almost cheated by her, mocked almost and taken for fools because if she thought they were any smarter, she would have figured they’d catch her.1320985

She was committed enough to almost find a way to get away with such a crime at such a sophisticated store, she must be very smart, only if she had directed her smartness at a different angle. Shoplifting is a crime, and even the justice system treat it as such, so grabbing a pair of Luella boots results in a criminal record as same as hijacking.

I just wonder why she did it, it wasn’t poverty because she wasn’t bare-footed. Maybe she and her girls were going to a party, and her crush was going to be there as well and so she really wanted to make a statement, her parents told her they can’t afford a new pair of shoes at the moment and so she opted to “plan B”, and now that she’s all alone in a prison cell she’s thinking was it really worth it? My friends, will they even come see me? And as for him, does he even know all the trouble I went through for him? Does he even care? And my parents, what will they say when they hear I’ve been arrested for shoplifting? What will I say to them? How will I even look at them?

The lesson here is; “there are no shortcuts in life”. There is nothing wrong with wanting the finer things in life, but you have to be willing to work for them. Actions have consequences, so be very careful of what you say or do because in the end it will come back to you in the very same way you had intended it for the next person.



When the course is just,
A war is a must,
It is fought with trust
Amongst us.

The war within one’s self is most destructive,
Vindictive, implosive,
And ironically, most explosive.

Wars are fought for generations solders will never even see,
For a greater course, a place in history,
For preservation.

Saving your own skin
By denying your own skin,
Your people, your destiny, your roots,
Even your own survival,
Solders that march with helmets and boots
March for your skin,
As they get skinned alive,
How do you live in your own skin?

Freedom, is only freedom when it is really free.
No man can truly be free when his brothers are really not free.

Freedom, is only freedom when it is really free,
Really free, really free,
Internally, externally, eternally, reflecting, freely,
The shining glimpse of hope,
Unity, liberation.

Preservation, real preservation,
One man’s preservation is really no preservation,
As his soul is chained,
Enslaved by guilt.

Preservation, skin preservation, race preservation,
Embraces your skin,
Your people, your destiny, your roots,
A nation’s survival,
Solders that march with helmets and boots,
March for one skin,
And as they get skinned alive,
The preserved ones live through their skins.

Preservation, real preservation.