Here I am sitting on a wheelchair, thinking about the accident that left me with a broken spine and useless legs. I remember it every day, so clearly like a summer’s day. Technology is to blame for all of it.

It seems like yesterday. I was young and naïve, wanted more than the world could give. But now, here I am, sitting on a wheelchair, thinking about how it all came to an end.

Everything is ruined. This only my opinion; life is good, wherever they are, those who feel like this world has changed for the better, those who crave and long for nothing. Life is so good. But then again, it is an opinion like a behind that everyone has. Maybe mine stinks and people wouldn’t like it, sitting next to me would suffocate them. But I know what I know.

I know that an accident took my might, because of what? Saving tens’ of cows? Please! If I knew better I wouldn’t have bought that car, automated to make life easier.

Oh the sales pitch was smooth and besides, I had no choice, I needed transport for work. It made life so easy; it made my life easier. I would have sworn it was a sign that I should quit the industry. If I had taken a test drive around the corner…but I didn’t know that a few minutes were going to cost me my happiness and a lot of credit. I took the keys and started my Lamborghini and off I went to the airport. Only minutes were left for my flight to depart. If I hadn’t left the time I did, only Heaven knows what would have been of my life.

I don’t say much but I try to converse with people around me and those that I meet, but in the flight I just kept to myself.

“Fasten your seatbelts, we are about to take off,” said the hostess.

This was the happiest time of my career. I had just bought my dream car and I was going to Milan for that fashion show, to see my designs being modelled by the world-famous models in one of the most fashion renowned cities.

When we landed I had on my jacket and scarf, gloves and boots. The weather changed drastically from cool to extremely cold. There was ice everywhere, even in August it would snow. Oh yes, snow in Africa, the whole loft of it. I know it was shocking but global warming was not getting any better, the ozone layer was depleting by the minute.

But Milan, beautiful Milan.

Kevin Hardy was standing next to a car ready to welcome me.

“Well, aren’t you late Madame, almost missed your designs. Show is about to start.”

Kevin Hardy, such a kind soul, I wouldn’t have been there if it wasn’t for him. He greeted with kisses on the cheek, opened the door, closed it and called out for the help of the navigator. Automated cars, they drive themselves, they make road decisions for you, you are the passenger now; there is no driver.

I read about it somewhere while I was still in high school, didn’t think it would be, but 12 years later, it was staring me right in the face. “Here we are, let’s go.” Kevin said.

“And the bags, my bags?”

“Leave them, someone will get them.”

Mary Nora Roux

A giant hall.

“Mary Nora Roux, founder of The Fashion 17 world Edition in partnership with Xiao Lee Hong, world renowned fashion designer and top stylist for Fashion Hong Kong, worked with Victoria Secret, The Campells and Ms Banks, Tyra, welcome and follow me,”

This was just how it all started, from this day I didn’t stop, kept going in and out of the country until one day I never came back. Oh I wasn’t abducted by aliens or anything; New York City was just treating me good. While I expanded my range Taste Africa, I got to see the bad side of this cruel ol’ world. I would go around, finding inspiration like I would here, it was a bit hard, new environment, new situation; I was restless.

When I left the mother land I made sure to leave everything behind to start afresh. I gave Rosie, my Lamborghini to my brother. He had it spray painted, cruised and I did not care less. Every morning I would hit Startbucks for breakfast and coffee, Saturday the 13th was chilly but I took it to the morning…unbeknownst to me that Saturday night preparations were going on. I finished my second coffee, payed, tipped and I left.

The Big Apple, how beautiful you are.

No, I lived in it, so I decided to head somewhere else, Bronx, Queens, Syracuse – them hoods, you name them – anywhere I felt like. My mood was good and it was almost twelve, brother Sun was up high above my head, reminding me of where I came from…Africa. I walked the streets of the Bronx or was Queens? It must have been Bronx. I don’t remember really, but what I saw in the hood was supposedly in every outskirt.

I saw it on the news. It was shocking to see cars wrecked and houses old, abandoned and soulless. Only a bark of a dog I would hear maybe a mile away, no too much. But chills were running up and down my spine. A man suddenly came out of nowhere. This man, he looked homeless, dirty and horrible.

“You ain’t from around here, ain’t you? You shouldn’t be here, you need to leave.” He said.

“Why? What happened here? Where are the people who lived here, in this town?”

“You ask a lot, all you have to do is leave,”

I was not scared but I knew I needed to leave. I knew I needed to get out of there as soon as I could because Jesus, that was not a film. So I left.

Sunday morning I watched the news and Lord, the headlines were crying blood. The Purge! Yes, I have watched the film several times and I tell you, it had a good director and good actors, professionals. But who knew that the thoughts lurked in the mind would actually give the State an idea to keep the rich richer, the poor out of their misery and enemies of one another? Eh? Saturday night: Purge night.

I didn’t even wonder a bit, USA is highly developed no doubt about that. I knew it was getting better by the day, I just didn’t think it was in that way. Many people were moving away from their homes, their land, to these developed nations – Asia, Europe and North America. Africa was sinking, but I decided come back.

Although South Africa was still in development, still (roll your eyes), people were moving away, still, to make better living, a better life.

The year 2040, I said I saw it all, with everyone getting richer and richer, the world was getting smaller and smaller but I didn’t even wonder why. Global warming was at the tip of the bottle neck; cars drove themselves, humans sacrificed for the rich, wealthy and self-righteous. It went on and on and on… There was no Amen.

Machines were a race now… Black, White, Indian, Machine. And oh, before I forget, Mary Nora was one of the latter; no wonder she made it in the industry.

I sit on my wheelchair and stare at the rising sun in the East, in my home, Mpumalanga, every day. It has not changed, still the same – the tar roads we were always fighting for, the street lights we were always striking for are, maybe, yet to be installed. Funny eh? Nothing has changed really, except the population keeps getting smaller and smaller; this town is turning into a ghost town.

I sit on my wheelchair and I stare at the rising sun and every time I see cows I curse the day I bought a car, although it is not mine now. I sit here on my wheelchair and stare at the rising sun in the East. I know Africa is sinking because I see Mozambique so far. I knew Africa was sinking because I greeted walls on them streets on my way. But when I sit here I will sit and wait for the day South Africa will follow the trend and get its purge. I will sit and wait until my hair grows past my ankles. Because in 2040 I said I saw it all and four years later, here I am, sitting on a wheelchair and waiting for it all to happen.

Everything is ruined but then again, that is my view, like a behind that everyone has.