iZulu love letter

Ngifisa sengakubhalel’inkondlo

Ikuland’egol’ ikuwez’uthukela

Woth’ ufik’oLundi

Uyong’fica ngikulethel’ubhaskithi, nocansi

Ngikufukule, ngikonyus’intaba

Mang’qeda ngawe, nawe

ngikhombis’izwe nomhlaba

Woth’ungekaciphis’inyembezi

Ngikhumul’ijazi ngikulekelele

Uth’usabhekile, njalo

Ngithi mi naw’uswidi😜🤣🤣🐇

Ng’cela, ng’cela nje ugibel’ibhanoyi

Ndiza bhelukazi,

ulethe leyo nhliziyo😘😜

Uzongfica phakath kwe Nsizwa

Ukhombe nje owakh’insizwa zibhekile.

Okwamanje

Sengohlala ngibhek’iposi

Incwad’ebhalw’ uwena Bhelukazi🤣🤣🤣.

Kuze kufike lelolanga🐇

A gift of life is life itself

At my knees

As I burn an incense,

early hours of the morning.

Fire from a candle,

A nip of gin, a shot to myself,

shot to my great warrior kings and queens

My dearest forefathers

a tin of snuff in my hand

Trying to connect with my inner being

Tradition that lingers on

An act of African customs

Significant gesture of gratitude

Calling them by their traditional names

oMvundle, oMsuthu, oBhayi ka Khetshe

I thank their riveting spirit

To have cleared my foot path,

and

endlessly watched over my head.

Camagu!

I weeped,

with content,

counting all my blessings.

It’s no mystery I’m still standing

Be it on the sideline or mainline

Life itself exceeds all benefits

As I mark three decades

and some odd years,

Bant’abadala (my ancestors)

You giving me a gift of life,

Yet for another try, for another day

Well packaged in a form of a birthday.

I shall continue with the cause

Rising and falling against the odds,

Just keep the light burning.

Yesterday, today and … COVID-19

Yesterday, today and tomorrow in tenses

Past, we wondered these dirty streets,

Unswept pavements with broken bottles and,

drinking glasses that stabbed generations

as they drank themselves to death,

Whilst dancing to sounds of disruption,

From music to voices

Rants here and there,

today the streets are forcefully at peace.

Presently we miss walking,

same spaces we walked a month ago, touch and go

nodding to familiar faces,

waving hands free from officers.

Police and Soldiers,

They were forever here,

we just didn’t see them.

Now they’re holding our breaths as never before.

Yesterday’s news:

There was my neighbor,

with a broken spirit,

suffered the loss of her young soldier.

She chose not to die in pain

and let her son’s death to be in vain,

Rather be a street vendor,

than to bury her face into a pillow.

She

wore her pinafore,

tied a doek on her head,

her scarf in her waist

Picked a spot,

built a stand and sold sweets.

Days;

the same table stand extended,

her items expanded,

humility unchanged.

She wears the same smile,

like her sweets however,

now bold to the size of her stand,

So firm yet warm,

like the taste of her gatsby and vetkoek,

along a tenable work ethic.

Today, she woke up to the news,

that demanded her to remain indoors,

so to speak ‘flatten the curve’.

With her flat stomach from starvation,

She tightens her belt and,

Soldier along.

Because she doesn’t know what tomorrow would be like.

Mhlab’uhlabile🦠🦠🦠

Mhlab’uhlabile

Ngesiquphe singahlelile

Liyabhubh’ihlabathi

Kambe

Neli lixa lizodlula.

Ibhentsil’inkxalabo

Inkxunguphal’ uxhatshazwa

kukuxhaphazela kwamaphaphu.

Ngenxa yokuphaxwa nokuxikizwa

Zizifo zemihl’esiphila kuyo.

Ubuxikixiki nobuxakaxak’

Ogqirh’imek’imaxongo

Ixesha lixhatshwe yinja

Amaxhal’axeli ndlala

Inqab’intw’engenasiphelo.

Nabo torho babhityel’ebhulukhwen’impilwe ndoda.

Bathi sihlambe izandla

Ucoceko lelona khubalo,

Kusaphel’amaqhinga.

Umhlola,

Okwangoku,

Ibayinkom’edla yodwa,

Impangampanga ye lolo

intw’ehamba yodwa ngath’inotokoloshe

Ongqondo ngqondo basabhunga

Zihlangene ngentloko, zihlinz’impuku.

The real essential members of our community

Politicians always thought they were the only ones that are holding the country, but it’s the teller from a retail store (food and pharmacy), the black garden men and women who make sure the white farming lands are well take care of so to produce more crops, the petrol attendants, the security officers at every entrance and exit, at any cash vehicle transporting monies to ATM’s, it’s the Miner at coal mines, the Artisan and Assistant at Eskom, Telkom, Petro SA and Transnet as well as the Operator that moves a container from ship to stack to truck to retail stores before those goods lands to a consumer, it is the Bin/Garbage collector, the Truck, Taxi and Ambulance driver, it is the Medical Doctor and Nurse that spends sleepless nights worried about another patient while the other one perished in his/her hands, is the Telecommunication Technician at Vodacom, Telkom, Mtn, and Cell C that is making sure we are able to connect and converse to one another amid of crisis, it is the Production team incl the journalist in the streets for us (people) from SABC and Multichoice ensuring the civilians are well alert of current state affairs throughout the day, it is the Pastors and Traditional healers depending on individual belief that counsel our people during this time of hardship, most of them all is the Maid/Nanny that look after children whilst these essential people are out there making sure each member of the state is able to survive yet another day. #COVID-19

This time COVID-19

I APPRECIATE ALL OF THOSE ESSENTIAL SERVANTS WHO ARE UNDERPAID BUT CHARGED WITH SUCH DUTIES AND RESPONSIBILITIES OF CARRYING FOR THEIR PEOPLE, I SALUTE YOU!!!

I have seen medical doctors and nurses crying fearful of their lives,

I have heard Business owner’s, CEO’s of big organizations such as Edcon weeping in need of keeping companies afloat amid and beyond the virus, most importantly to be able to pay salaries and preserve peoples jobs,

People are dying the whole night and day while some remain infected and overwhelmed with anxiety.

Yet other children are at work, parents are worried sick and grandkids are left alone at home.

A greatest test of all times.

Beyond Corona 🦠

One thing positive about the whole corona virus is it’s openness.

Solidarity – Government support and stakeholders, businesses and health organizations, communities around the globe. It’s amazing, and most of it all is the people’s disclosure of corona virus which has normalized the virus in such a way that it has become so easier to willingly get examined and so easy to say; “I have contracted corona” than it is to say; “I have HIV/AIDS”.

Maybe after the whole thing is over and there are some people left… we need to look at this close in terms of varying numbers of HIV/AIDS victims across the globe, hold hands, offer support, donate funds as it is happening now, and have one voice, who knows HIV/AIDS might be conquered aswell.

Writing is a spiritual journey.

A journey that connects dots.

while telling stories before they happen,

As they translate situations unspoken.

I love your hand of writing,

The moment you put your thoughts;

together with your feelings and experiences against a pen and a paper.

It is it’s movement – thread by thread.

As it shakes within my deeps,

the strengths of the nuts and bolts that fastened my life.

Have you been there?

Have you been there in my life?

Perhaps straddling, completing steps behind me?

Are you a healer?

What are you?

a healer in writing or a teller of the unseen and untold?

Because;

I love your hand of writing.

How it navigates in my past,

present and future;

without ever meeting you.

How your story correlate to mine,

And yet our worlds differs by color,

by gender and by culture.

So because we are one;

we are human you know..

Aaa Dalibhunga, My President 👏🏿👏🏿👏🏿

“I am the first accused. I hold a Bachelors Degree in Arts and practiced as an Attorney in Johannesburg for a number of years partnerships with Oliver Tambo. I am a convicted prisoner serving five years for leaving the country without a permit and for inciting people to go on strike at the end of May 1961”. In his own words My President, Mr Nelson Mandela.

Uzele wena Afrika,

Uzele wena mz’ontsundu.

Aaah Dalibhunga!!!

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