I am a young teen from the dusty, noisy yet liberating and inspiring streets of a small township in Cape Town.
A township full of crime, yet there is hope for a better tomorrow.
A township full of scandals, yet those same scandals tell a narrative story of who we are.
A township full of dreamers, leaders and action takers, yet there is little progress because we have no one to believe in us.
A township deemed as hopeless and worthless because half of its youth is unemployed, illiterate and jumps into substance abuse, yet those anti-social behaviours are a cry to the decision makers and change drivers for help.
A township so judged and condemned by those who think they know best, failing to see its potential and what it has to offer.
A township full of hope, dreams, love, talents, yet it lacks wisdom, unity, vision and conviction.
Its hope is left in its schools, clinics, libraries, community development centres, but mostly in its YOUTH.
Its youth is full of passion, especially in arts and entertainment, yet have little support to pursue those desires and dreams.
Its youth is forced to believe that education is the only key to break the barriers of poverty while their talents are just a hobby to pass time.
With its education, rare are those employment opportunities presented and few are chosen to be the breadwinners of their households.
They have never seen anyone from their township succeed in the arts and entertainment industry, nor being recognised across the nation.
Their talents lies in dramatic arts, music, dance, visual art, fashion designing, event organising, small business start-ups but still, no support, coaching, mentoring or help.
Nonetheless I love my township because it gives me something to love about, laugh about, cry about, talk about, learn about but mostly WRITE about.
Will keep on telling its story till someone out there recognises it and believes in it so much as to help it break the chains of poverty, crime and unemployment.
And this township is…