I am from a place where expectations are high while the resources are low
The burning desire for a breakthrough weighing down heavily on already fragile virgin shoulders
Mothers raising their children with the hope that they will one day be their ray of hope

I am from a place where old men will praise little boys and call them ‘grootman’ for having a few more coins than them
Laying down their dignity for a few desperate sips of the wicked intoxicating juice
A place where a salary is hardly enough to change your life
An honest hustle is taboo

I am from a place where little boys are forced to choose between taking care of home or impressing the streets
Their childhoods are violently disrupted by the responsibility to fill their athlete fathers’ size 13 shoes
The consequences of their mother’s stigma about birth control and submission

I am from a place where little girls clown little boys for not affording things they also cannot afford
They give their perfectly crafted temples to old spiritually-decayed men who only leech on their precious being
Leaving them with a void no amount of alcohol can fill
A coldness no amount of trendy and expensive clothes can warm

I am from a place that comes alive at night
Buzzing with loud melodies that are synchronized with the fast feet of intoxicated youth
A place with the best kotas and groove

I am from a place you have to leave before it swallows and completely breaks you
A place where the best of the best and equally the worst of the worst are created
A place where there is no in between

I am from Tembisa