How do I live, when I know that work is prized within the South African economy,
As means to free the trappings of poverty?
Yet again, in pursuing such – there exists concepts of employability.
How do I live?

How do I live when I feel reduced and decreased –
To dim degrees,
After years of trailing after diplomatic degrees
That have amounted to eventualities
Of experiential internships, against years of practicalities
In our areas of expertise.
How do I live?

How do I live when the state of the nation affairs
Are declared haphazardly in full-damage control modes
That speak to Rand(ela) against Dollar codes
That reflect poverty as an invidious distinction between societal class slopes;
When children cannot read and write;
In the midst of learning whose nature is rote and recites?

But even then; how do I live
When the concept of justice cannot be extended to mean;
If it is wrong, it is wrong- regardless of who or where you are
How do I live?
How do I live, when I do not feel there’s been an-
Earnest, honest, harnessed and stressed representation of employability
On the basis of qualitative reviews of our life stories-
Commonly CV’s of every social worker in every municipality
Shouldn’t that be the barometer of employability?
How do I live?

How do I live, when I am unaware of how that interview;
My mannerisms- stature
Confidence- posture
Relevance- gesture
Articulation- composure
The whole shebang; listening and responding well-
Will tick and cross me; shattering my re-enactment
Of the developmental concepts
Unilaterally used by law-abiding citizens-
As means to appease their relatives, who share in the adjudication panel
On the day of my assessment trail.
How do I live?

How do I live when all the years amassed from volunteerism are suddenly
Nullified in the state of what the nation is;
When about as much a percentage as that which the body fills with water;
Are African graduates, without employment; how do I live?
I get the Honour bestowed upon all of us to tap into our creativity; mobilising and mining;
Refining and defining employment- but equally on that same note
I lament this beloved country as I am still awakening from the nightmare of
Learning that all which was needed has suddenly become obsolete-
How do I leave; when I know I have to undergo the necessary stages of grieving
In the aftermath of my need to be conscious-
To an ‘interwoven advancement strategy’ wired within all of us to make ourselves
Every employer’s prostitute candidate;
In a country that observes the rule of law:
How do I live?

By the way, it is only in nervous conditions
Where people are counselled to carry their burdens with strength-
In my heart of redblankettedness- I have this to ask;
Will we ever collectively carry the aches and beauties
Of our democracy in unity and strength?
Or is indifference the rising strength in unity?

As we feel the quite violence of our dreams sweeping us off our feel;
As we smoke in our dreams, fogging our days;
Trembling hope, wavering our gave;
Trapping our feet; negating our planned reality;
Feeding our heads, it’s the dawn of the new day
Freezing our hearts in a conceptual maze
While the promise; seems to be reality
While the promise; seems to be reality

And the note; we are left on is this one:
“Be of good cheer, look back with pride;
Look forward, with hope.
Our democracy is still very young; and the issue of redistribution….”
Is also our relationship with having?
“At least now, it is no longer absolute poverty!”

And the tag you are left with, is ‘relative poverty’
As your friend

Then you will feel the bitter sting of unemployment
gnash and gnaw at your dignity
as you will drink from the bitter sweet cup and joke of growing up
Automatically; you will think of songs that grew you up;
“Ligaz’amanzi, ligaz’amanzi, e Gethtsemani wathandazake, kwaze kwangathi
As it will lie clearly before you that; no-one on the inside screams-
But blood is thinker than water!
Advocating for some brotherhood just-ice encounter

This is my country, in its democratic, developmental epoch
It promotes participative citizenry;
Question is, will it welcome my writing?
Making use of books, such as the Quite Vilonce of Dreams by Kabelo Sello Duiker, drawing from the xenophobic attacks that adorned our screens last year, really pointing to the economic (rand against dollar) issues, to Zakes Mda’s Heart of Redness and Alan Paton’s Cry the Beloved Country.
Brief autobiography:
I am Asanda Molose and I am twenty-five. I’ve always used writing as a way of engaging my inner self, to reflect upon life, to find humour and to reason with the outside world. Most of my writing I began about eleven years ago, when I tried to deal with loss and I’ve never stopped writing since then.

I find inspiration in the works of Lebo Mashile, Alice Walker, Prof. Maya Angelou, Mabhilidi Nyatsumba, though literature in high school was though the Shakespearean school of thought. Musically I embellish the works of Lauryn Hill, in particular her “The miseducation of Lauryn” album. Most of my times I spend reading and I aspire to run a foundation that seeks to give a voice to the girl child in the near future.

I studied social work, but am very passionate about writing. I like sharing my mindedness around issues that affect our youth such as sexuality and education.

My motto in life is simple: “It is not the size of the dog in the fight, but the size of the fight in the dog that counts!” – source unknown.