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(1957/01/09 / BURGERSFORT (Leeufallei farm or Ga- Makwakwasi))

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Lost identity

I can't live free, one way or otherwise,
I'm tied permanently by my legs, hands, heart and mind,
The psychology of slavery,
I do everything willingly, happily in form of lost identity,
I revel in the form of lost identity,
I believe I enjoy every moment of my life in the mosquito net,

My culture has become a tag of ridicule,
Despicable and a shame to wear,
I believe I'm cultureless and free,
Yet I'm caught in the foreign spider web,
I'm a soccer player in a match,
Yet I play with no one,
I kick the ball to either side, annoying and pleasing everyone,
I believe I enjoy every moment of the game,
Yet my manoeuvre is determined by the circumference of the cage,
So widely decorated, I can't bear to detach my attention from it,
I'm forever captivated by it, day in - day out,
I'm a spectre of that image,
I dance to it all the time,
Nobody laughs at me, unless I try to be African,

I'm in the middle of a raging river, the Limpopo River,
Yet I can't swim, but I don't care,
What I care about is happiness,
As long as I'm happy, I will keep on drifting away,
Drifting away from me and my pride,
In pursuit of a false identity,
In pursuit of an identity not of my kind,
I've become selfish to myself,

I have painted my children with my twisted tongue,
I want them to speak like me, like everybody else,
But not like the people of my indigenous kind,
They too now speak in tongues,
They are a distance far from me,
Their children too, will be a distance far from them,
We will be a chain running into oblivion,

The culture painters are deceitful,
They sell everything on contract,
Whatever one bought it is his or hers but can't use it at will,
One is caught in a spider web of conditional living,
Tied to the chain forever but free to elongate it,
To whatever distance, as long as the move is forward,
It is everything else but, transformation of dark Africa! !

Submitted: Thursday, February 09, 2012


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