IN THE TOWNSHIP:We Get Drunk And Speak Our Colonial Language


 

In a life-circle of an individual,being born and raised in the township can forever be or is a wound grasping for free-will to find self-expression from childhood to adulthood,a personal/collective need from within to untraumatize away parts of our suppressed characteristics and belong without any historical narration of immigration into the period of industrial labour,to the lest unforgotten Apartheid regime,to the suffocating new dawn,we just want to break-free from the chains of installation,to decolonise our pychological/mental disabilities and liberate ourselves from the voice of all forms of oppression.

Impilo Yase Kasi is always on survival mode each and every second on the clock,everyone is caught in a web struggling to put food on the table by night fall,there's no time to focus on what's happening in the world unless it affects the condition and politics of stomach.

A bread winner is a common phrase used to describe the majority of black households,with one stream or one source of income feeding about 5-10 people in a day,understanding what poverty has done to an african spirit and it's future.It is evident that the capatalist system was designed for those with the luxury to sit and dine by the swimming pools.For the rest,to be consumised by politics of the stomach.We are subjected to waiting for an existential answer from Heaven with peanuts on your hands.People often live in escapism in the township,we drink and forget about the promises of the world to better our livelihood,as long as,we have food and get enough rest to wake up and go to work again,repeatedly.


A Black Soul Infront Of A MIRROR:

Physically Exhausted/Fatigued

Emotional Broken/Bruised

Pychologically Scarred/Damaged

Mentally Tormented/Enslaved

Sexually Empty/Vulnerable

Spiritually Non-presence/Lost

Socially Aloof/Distraught


What has become of a black soul?Buya Muntu Omnyama E-Khaya


In our tragedy,we have forgotten ourselves,our history,our roots,our sense of identity and our origins have been diluted.we don't know who we are apart from knowing that we have to wake up and go to work,we have lost everything our forefathers taught and fought for us,from teachings,to knowledge,wisdom ,to land,to ourselves as a race.All is crumbs,it;s dog eats dog,the rich marry the rich,a subject of all forms of humiliation-is a face of a poor black person.We have with time become adapatations of people's cultures and we carry them with pride,a black race doubt itself constantly seeking validation for everything,fighting for a place to belong everywhere besides in the skintone worn by their ancestry.


For a long time,we were taught whiteness is success,it is time to relearn to learn and learn to relearn,

                                                                         


                                                                                                                  By Linda Wa Ka Shabangu



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