A whispered promise to nurture on deaf ears
A gentle kiss on a fragile head
Mother holds a boy
Mother’s tears

I was young

Anele amakhwenkwe
The last of her boys
I was enough for her to cherish

I grew

Growing up in the Eastern Cape
Where cow dung was the inhaled morning breeze, never garden lilies
Moonlight provided light on dark mountain alleys
Where waking up was coordinated, as happy followers. We obliged.

We were home, where we belonged
A home where our fathers played these dusty grounds, where they learn to lead
disloyal sheep were their followers
The shepherd’s staff was now ours to bear.

I served
As Former President Jacob Zuma took office,
I was tending sheep
We both had to cater for our followers
It was enough, I was enough
A mother had enough
Umama wanele.