Before you bite my head off on the long papagraphs that do not get to the point, I need to clarify a few things. I am not gay, I currently identify as Asexual. This is not a story about Religion and demons and ishh. It’s a story I shared with a friend of mine who is helping me write it because she thinks she’s creative or whatever.

Now, where were we? Oh yes. I was pushed into the alley way and almost assaulted by the ring leader guy. I begged my way and when he saw my wet pants he *understood* that I was terrified. My pants were not only wet, they were stinky too. He still would’ve done what he wanted but I guess he is a germophobe or something. He swore at me and cut my left hand with a knife before I was able to run away with my muddy pants.

What scared me off the most was what he said to me as I ran off. He mentioned my grandfather’s name, which made me cry even more. I got home… my aunt’s car was already there. She came back home early from work I suppose. “You’re so drunk you messed yourself Litha!” Says my annoying elder brother Vuyo. He’s in matric so he doesn’t go partying. I entered his backroom instead of the main house to avoid the drama he’s causing. Blood on my hand, dripping. Why does that sound like a bar for a dope rap song? I begged my brother to not make a fuss about it as I collected some cold water from the tank to bath and wash my clothes. My brother was annoyed but honestly did not care for me because I was the favorite child.

Joining a gang in my community was a norm for boys my age. You join a gang and make some dope rap songs together during the day so that your parents think you are making clean money out of swearing at each other. At night you commit the worst crimes while your parents think you are out partying in order to perform in front of an audience. This was the way of life for boys in the whole town. If you were not a gang member, then crimes were attracted to you, and attached themselves like a magnet. You family would be assaulted, robbed and really anything there is that criminals do. In this way we had convinced ourselves that joining a gang was a means to protect our families from crimes. Most gangs though start out in prison, they get out of jail recruit new members and then go back inside. This cycle continues for generations, the same rules apply and the same laws governing gangs are made.

You know where this is going, right? I also joined a gang after that incident. It honestly does not matter which gang you are in, but there is a mutual understanding and respect amongst gangs. Stay out of each others ways and territories and everything will be alright. I joined the assassins, the 27’s. I cannot tell you too much because I fear getting arrested. One of the common laws, I was taught by my mentor ( lol, we also have mentors) was a law that governs and commands respect.

“Isiyalo sokuqala ” My mentor said, ” akekho omncane, akekho omdala, sishiyana ngama gunya neztebhisi” ( The first law, No one is younger, no one is older, and some ishh about stairs and roles.) As mentioned I cannot tell you too much, but another interesting thing was that we all went to church on Sundays and our embelem was ” hlonipha uyihlo nonyoko ( respect your mom and dad) hlonipha inombolo nevolovolo (respect our duty/job and guns).

Words from author: guys! Litha talks too fast and I barely understand what he says. He also does not do a great job at explaining in English, so please bare with me. back to the story.

I carry all the laws of the gang in my heart, it made me believe that respect is earned. Age does not matter, your rank within the gang and your role matters, just like in the community. Everyone respects the mayor, not because he is old but because of his role. The ranks also depend on your impact in the gang, what you do for the gang. I still respect my mom and I also respect guns. Even though a lot has changed, those laws still govern me.