My society governs my identity
A black female they vaguely say
Is it okay if I feel that’s not clarity?
Or that black now has a blurred definition
I’m a Xhosa that’s my father’s origin
But my mom is of Ndebele descent
Is that supposed to be the verdict?
When black itself is filled with rewritings

My society governs my identity?
I look around and see a society with suffocating intentions
And with fear of new expressions
I want to break free but I fear being threatened
Kuba izinyanya aziyazi le ntlekele
Intlekele, intsomantsomane, ishwangusha are the names
Of our inner selves, no, our demons
Singqusha siphekuza
Sokhela sibasa
Kodwa umsi usongamele
Ingqondo ixinene, hayi ndonele

Who am I?
My subconscious still rings
Because my voice isn’t allowed to sing songs
Of discovery, explorations and venturing horizons
My society governs my identity?
A society enslaved by fear of prosperity?
Hayi, a thi divhi