I’m from a place where Alan Paton said the hills were rolling and beautiful beyond any singing of it

But he didn’t mention those hills were only beautiful if you didn’t have to look for your brother’s body in them.

I’m from a place where the mist is each morning’s Worship team from the ground to the Creator

Yet, each stride above trees overlooks graves of dreams that were buried prematurely with lack of ARVs


I am from a place that’s rich in Pine

From that which soap is

Yet no soap would be enough to cleanse the blood shed in the 90s

No soap is enough to wash away the poverty

And no bubbles enough to soak off the callousness of our hearts.


A place that is rich in sugarcane and honey

A sunny winter day of boys battling bees

And standing by the road to sell honey to motorists just so they can get shoes for school

Honey for the honeyed

Coins for the education


I’m from a place where

Engineers stroll the dusty road asking for R2.00 for a smoke.

Rather burn from the inside for the world won’t hear your screams in a CV

I know them, I dreamt with them and we all were to change the world

The hand that served us picked coins for education.


I’m from a place where school libraries are locked

Hide the knowledge!

Lest dreamers change this world!

Give them as few books to keep the fire burning…

Wait, What fire?

There’s no need for fire if there’s no food to cook.


I’m from Emazabekweni

A village of red soil and fallen dreams

A land of misty forests and few professionals

A town of rolling hills and mythical university enrollment.

I’m from a place of inequality and disrespect for a black dreamer!


I’m not proud to say where I’m from

But I am here to voice that

There’s war against a black dreamer

The grass is rich and matted

The life is poor and destroyed!

I am from Ixopo!