I’m sorry to let you know

The strong black woman isn’t real

Imbokoto is but a part of mense

Die baie gekwat vrou is nie waar nie 

The much-maligned woman is a white lie 

She’s more than just kwat and koud 

Certain aspects of the rock she is 

Remain unearthed from us

This rock doesn’t defy the beat of frost

Or the eroding of water bodies. 

It can’t soar itself against gravity. 

This rock isn’t a statue, even when it’s immobile. 

This rock kicked around like a ball, 

Is dealt with disorientation and abuse. 

This rock gyrates in the vibration of amapiano.

This rock hurdles towards its mates for warmth. 

This rock can morph into other shapes, sizes and textures. 

Some rock can’t, and that’s normal too. 

This rock’s sense

Can be another rock’s nonsense. 

This rock drinks from another for a duration. 

For longevity, it leans on the other. 

This rock can have a purpose. 

Be it to shelter Hey housewife

Be it to pass on wisdom, Hey teacher

Be it to appeal, Hey Instagram hun 

Hey, slay queens.

Be it to restrict mayhem Hey, law enforcer. 

Be it to perforate chains, Hey activist.

Be it to forge a path to buried pasts, Hey therapist.

This rock stands burly amongst others

For it draws strength from solidarity 

Not solitude.