I was born and bred in the Eastern Cape where my hood life started. My life had its moments from where I was young to where I am. When I was five, it was the time of my need to rise. As I grew older I began to be wise and nourished. Like any other boy, I had a dream to shine; I wanted to shine among the world to be the spotlight.
But as I grew older and older, my dream faded away and jealousy had its ways. I chose bad friends instead of good friends but I had one good friend, Mandla. Mandla wanted me to be liberal but I wasn’t ready and I wasn’t too eager to be liberal. Mandla was a great comrade who believed that being liberal was the way to go; he wanted to be a hero in his community. I used to call him mkhuluwa (big brother). Every time he came, my friends would dislike him because he had nothing.
At school we would hang around, talking about everything; most times it would be about girls. I had a big fright around girls but as I grew older and older my dream faded away, jealousy had its ways. I chose bad friends instead of good friends but I had one good friend Mandla. Mandla wanted me to be liberal take action but I wasn’t ready and I didn’t want to eager on being liberal.
Mandla was a great comrade who believed that being liberal was the way to go, he wanted to be a hero in his community. I used to call him mkhuluwa (Brother). Every time he would come my friends dislike him because he had nothing.
At school we would hang around talking about everything. Most times it would be about girls and I had a big fright around girls. I believed that girls’ beauty was priceless but no one believed in that. I had to use my own beliefs to make sure that girls’ beauty was nourished.
At a later stage my mother died of a brutal murder. The descendancy of a woman was taken out of her soul. Her beautiful eyes had been burnt to ash. I vowed to find the murderers but I was weak. The next day Mandla died brutally as well. My soul was broken, broken into darkness.
Darkness you ruler; ruler of hate, hate of descendancy, descendancy of life. I was now broken, broken into pieces.
Every time I slept I saw the angel of my life, my mother, talking to me but I didn’t know what she was saying. She made signs of what she said, she kept pointing and harvesting in darkness. My mother was not resting in heaven, God gave me the light to see the world but I didn’t want to see it. All I wanted was to see was my mother’s loving heart.
I met this girl Chelsea. Chelsea was a young naïve girl who hated loneliness, and most times she was lonely. I saw things that no one had seen. The best thing about her was that she loved me for what I had, which was charisma of life.
In the end, as stories end with dignity, mine shatters dignity. I have lost everything but the only thing that matters is my dignity.
Tell us: Do you prefer to be alone or around people?