Note: The speaker is writing as if he has died and just arrived in the afterlife.

It’s been too long. Sorry for keeping you all waiting all this time.
I was waiting for my name to be called. Eventually it was. 
At last the pleasure is all mine, to be here and see everyone smile.
We’ve a lot to catch up on; I need one of you all to brief me fast.

Uncle Zithulele, I see you’re still quiet. Just like your name
So I won’t bother you. Mom, I know you’ve been dying to see me.
Ironic, but I’m glad we’re going to have a ‘me and you’ time. 
When we do, lose the specs. You look like you’re about to school me.

Dad, tell her she looks at me like a lesson plan, still into teaching.
I’m trying to catch some break time. Come on, ma. I just got here.
Gogo, don’t just stare. Do something, do anything.
I promise to give you my hand to kiss while I comb your hair.

Aunt Thandazile, I still recognise your laugh. It’s unique.
I know you think I’m bluffing ugogo, but actually I’m not.
You need some of that gospel you like, Amaphoyisa AsoLundi.
Honestly, I don’t know how I still remember so vividly.

Maybe it’s the blues on uncle Solomon’s playlist.
Honestly babomdala, I’m a hip-hop fan. I like it when it rhymes 
in 16 lines. I miss you grandpa, with your Lotto analysis.
I’ll make a million for you with this poem that rhymes.

I know you’re still a pirate to the core from Orlando. 
You used to take away joy of the fans of love and peace.
Are first days always this tiring? Everyone, Mfundo Mfundo.
I always heard that we would rest in peace here…


Mfundo lives in a small town called Mandeni. He describes himself as shy, hot headed at times, and he Iikes a good laugh. He says he started writing poetry because of his love for old school hip hop music.