One afternoon my Grandmother set around the fire,
Looked at us with an uncertain smile and said,
“You are the luckiest orphans my children,
Gently licked by these daily rains and not your un-deserving mothers
Including these rags wrapped around your bodies are such a blessing
It’s not a daily gift that one gets such warmth,
We thank the One above!
We no longer seek for food
And you already know that appetite is not for us to have,
We seek for being full of whatever the day provides to us.”

Poverty is trying by all means to swallow us up and chew us like ants
Revealing our naked bodies and vulnerability like witches
But what power do we have if these walls are so hard to climb
And are built by those possessing riches?
As if she had been reading my thoughts as the eldest,
She faced towards me with her face lit up and politely said,
“But I’ve been with South Africa for too many years
And I know its capabilities
It has fought all the battles with its unity
And will definitely do the same on this one to burn these bridges.”