I’m from a place where …
The arrival of morning and the departure of day is promptly announced by the blaring beep of the taxi hoot,
Like a crowing rooster caught in a screaming fit.
The squeak and sputtering grating of swirling spinning tyres sing chaotic lullaby-like cricket music upon the smoky misty night untiring.

I’m from a place where …
Lekker curries brew
Spices rule
And a bunny is a chow of authentic mouth watering local cuisine.
Aromatic biryani we make
And to have a smaaklik braai is a neighbourhood date,
While watching Amazulu play seated on old blue bread crates.

I’m from a place where…
Hide and seek is played with your hard-earned valuables,
Like one morning you own a sparkling car and the next –
Poof! Gone like the wind,
Crime, over here, my friend – it’s a sad ruthless gameplay.
Like women wading through tides of inequality, rape – GBV,
While trying to find their own identity.

I’m from a place where…
Politicians and policemen are like circus magicians,
Performing odd tricks here and there
Shooting stars everywhere
Yet when it’s their time to shine, watch how they disappear in record time.
And then there are us who live right here
Beside the Indian Ocean that’s oh so near,
But still fear to venture until New Year’s Day cheer
To swim, splash and have a beer.

Well, what can I say!
I’m from a place they call Durban, hey!