Dear Mr Mbalula,
I couldn't agree with you more!
What do parents or people in authority do when they are frustrated? Do they consider being politically correct by suger coating facts or do they remain true to their natural instincts by calling spades exactly what they are?
I feel like South Africans have sadly been subjected to a culture of chronic denialism. We tend to divert from cross analysing the core roots of our problems. Our national soccer team has been knocked out of an important tournament. They have disappointed the country, like they mostly do. Now instead of being reprimanded the country is pointing fingers at the coach. As if that was not enough, your statement is also savoring their tastebuds. That will not make swallowing the bitter pill of defeat easier. It may seem like a quick fix for now but, two years from now the spade will still be in our back yard - Bafana Bafana has gone way below par in terms of performance.
I feel like, honourable minister, you represented the frustration of many South Africans like myself. Even those who are pointing fingers at you are secretly praising you inside. They are tired of 'just' making it to the qualifying board, being kicked out at group stages and adding years to the last time we were at the world cup.
Minister Mbalula you have every right to freedom of expression like any other citizen of this country. Bafana Bafana need a reality check and your statement has steered them in the right direction.
I repeat, I am fully with you on this one. We can go on and on with this debate. We can have various stances on why our opinions differ but, we will wasting our time really. We would be like dancers who are circling a drum, dancing to different beats while our hearts know that they yearn to waltz to the sound of a piano. We are tired of the odour of defeat. We seek the scent of victory and we wont achieve it while circling around insignificant matters.
If i were you, i wouldn't apologise.
Kind regards,
Realistic South African
As published on social media network site, Facebook, on 21 January 2014.
Saturday 25 January 2014
Think like an African in Africa
A letter to a part of me who may forget where she comes from...
Dear me, think like the xhosa girl that you are,
One who comes from the amagcina tribe, otyhopho, onokwindla, oxhamela,
One who is able to speak more than six languages from her country,
One who sang suikerbossie during Volkspele,
One who has attempted ukuxhentsa but, failed due to a lack of rhythm.
One who knows that her roots being planted in Africa is no mistake.
Dear me, think like a girl who knows how to handle cows,
One who remembers clearly that standing in front of them is not how to do it,
Remember those involuntary lessons that your father gave you
when he was trying to get them into the kraal.
Remember how that is your least favourite place in the entire yard.
Not because of the unpleasant smell of the dung but,
because it just isn't.
Dear me, think like a girl whose home is surrounded by mountains,
Think of the beautiful blanket of snow that covers them in winter,
Think like a girl who was granted with the opportunity to admire nature at her best,
Think of the bright stars that you used to gaze at, remember the dreams they gave you,
before those stars disappeared when you moved to places surrounded by street lights.
Something that people from the West came with as part of 'development'.
Dear me, you may forget all the above but, please do not forget to think. Most importantly,
Think like an African in Africa
As published on social media network, Facebook, on 24 October 2013.
Dear me, think like the xhosa girl that you are,
One who comes from the amagcina tribe, otyhopho, onokwindla, oxhamela,
One who is able to speak more than six languages from her country,
One who sang suikerbossie during Volkspele,
One who has attempted ukuxhentsa but, failed due to a lack of rhythm.
One who knows that her roots being planted in Africa is no mistake.
Dear me, think like a girl who knows how to handle cows,
One who remembers clearly that standing in front of them is not how to do it,
Remember those involuntary lessons that your father gave you
when he was trying to get them into the kraal.
Remember how that is your least favourite place in the entire yard.
Not because of the unpleasant smell of the dung but,
because it just isn't.
Dear me, think like a girl whose home is surrounded by mountains,
Think of the beautiful blanket of snow that covers them in winter,
Think like a girl who was granted with the opportunity to admire nature at her best,
Think of the bright stars that you used to gaze at, remember the dreams they gave you,
before those stars disappeared when you moved to places surrounded by street lights.
Something that people from the West came with as part of 'development'.
Dear me, you may forget all the above but, please do not forget to think. Most importantly,
Think like an African in Africa
As published on social media network, Facebook, on 24 October 2013.
I've been here before
I've been here before,
i know all the corners of this room,
the furniture is still where it was,
nothing has changed at all.
I've been here before,
i know the neighbours very well,
very polite people they are, the Danile's,
they seem to be their old selves.
I've been here before
the stones on that street gave me these scars,
falling, getting up and falling again,
oh the memories are flooding back.
I've been here before,
i remember how unpredictable the weather can be,
sunny clear skies now to cloudy and stormy ones the next minutes,
it still rains a lot.
Heartacheville is just how i remember it.
Same old, Same old,
yes, i would know because
I have been here before!
As published on social media network site, Facebook, on 17 September 2013.
i know all the corners of this room,
the furniture is still where it was,
nothing has changed at all.
I've been here before,
i know the neighbours very well,
very polite people they are, the Danile's,
they seem to be their old selves.
I've been here before
the stones on that street gave me these scars,
falling, getting up and falling again,
oh the memories are flooding back.
I've been here before,
i remember how unpredictable the weather can be,
sunny clear skies now to cloudy and stormy ones the next minutes,
it still rains a lot.
Heartacheville is just how i remember it.
Same old, Same old,
yes, i would know because
I have been here before!
As published on social media network site, Facebook, on 17 September 2013.
To You
Today I can say that i've done it
i've relived all four seasons
summer,autumn,winter,spring
with memories on rewind
at the back of my mind
I'ts amazing how crystal clear they are
summers sunshine,autumns leaves
winters chill and springs blossoms
the cycle that was and will no longer be
I doubt they will ever escape me
that is a wish i wish not granted
the sun not to completly set,a tree not left naked,
a breeze to enjoy and beauty to admire
as i look at what time has frozen
To the universal forces that govern seasons,
to Father time who knows when and
to Mother nature and her role.
As published on social networking site, Facebook, on 14 February 2012
i've relived all four seasons
summer,autumn,winter,spring
with memories on rewind
at the back of my mind
I'ts amazing how crystal clear they are
summers sunshine,autumns leaves
winters chill and springs blossoms
the cycle that was and will no longer be
I doubt they will ever escape me
that is a wish i wish not granted
the sun not to completly set,a tree not left naked,
a breeze to enjoy and beauty to admire
as i look at what time has frozen
To the universal forces that govern seasons,
to Father time who knows when and
to Mother nature and her role.
As published on social networking site, Facebook, on 14 February 2012
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