A Boulevard of Broken Dreams

A Boulevard of Broken Dreams

Whenever you go upstairs to the business end of my house near to my family planning rooms (bed rooms).You will go past a painting on the left of the stairs……..What is difficult about this painting is that, one gets so overwhelmed by the sense of anticipation and danger as you approach the top of the wooden stairs that you miss the beauty of the painting. In fact, by the time you get to the top of the stairs, the painting is too close, a meter and a half close to you that you do not appreciate it at all.

In order to appreciate it, you have to move past it and find a park bench that is positioned strategically opposite to the painting on the far left of the top floor. This bench gives one a command post like felling, of the top floor. This is where you can sit to appreciate in a calm way the entire family planning unit with all it different corners and curves nooks and crannies. In other words the bath, dresser and private sections of the house. In fact one of the rooms is written ‘Private’.

NOW. From that advantage point of this park bench you will then see the true magic of this painting.

At first glance, it looks like a photograph then a painting then a photograph, and it is in this confusion that its true beauty emerges. Yes it depicts a period in the 50’s in New York, so that gives you a perspective of a time in history. Then you can clearly notice mist, and the figure of James Dean in there tells you that it was cold and either in the morning or evening. Helenwein the painter simply titled it ‘A Boulevard of broken Dreams’.

It is a beautiful picture or painting if you like. Depending on what you see.

Now you all know that James Dean was an actor, who never realised his true potential but reached iconic status in the league of Ernesto ‘CHE’ Guevara. A man who symbolised ‘Revolution’. Dean on the other hand symbolised ‘Free Spirit’. His death, while speeding in a car was a testimony to how he lived.

Anyway, the symbolism of this painting takes me back to 1994 .On the 27^th of April, voting Day. Vusi Zwane my number one accused ‘Close Friend’, and I are running around the township to check out how the voting in going. Remember we were also very excited with the anticipation to cast our first vote. So from the Mandela House in Vilakazi Street, we move up past Nambita to the back of the Maponya intersection. We then decide not to vote at the AME Church but at a school right behind it four streets away. At the school we are ashier in to vote by non- other than Lerato Mbele who now hosts Africa Business report on British Broadcasting Corporation. A young Volunteer then.

So after voting, we drive around the township as self-appointed monitors to check if everything is in order. We end up later in Yeoville to see blacks and whites voting for the first time together. My Bosch Brick Cell phone did not have a camera and I never thought in my wildest dreams that my phone will have a camera and I had left my camera at home. Darn, so I missed all those pretty pictured that would be going with this story and of course it was a memorable day.

The birth of the new South Africa. You all know about the classical dilemma of birth. Is it at inception or at the birth of the baby after nine months? Or somewhere in between?

Well, in our case, we did not have to wait that long .The counting moved smoothly and today we are the darling of the world when it comes to electoral conduct. By the time the inauguration of our beloved president Mandela came on the 10^th of May 1994. Everybody in the world was calling me and Vusi for the invitation to the Union Buildings. I had already committed myself to the Ugandan delegation and please do not ask me how. I also had to find their AIRLINE Parking at OR Tambo which I did successfully. Now I hate bureaucrats of most countries because they think that the Sun shines from the face of their Bosses Whoever they are. One of them put so much pressure on me to guarantee his President Front row in the Union Buildings amphitheatre………I got so fed up and said ‘lady, I can get you inn but I cannot guarantee you front row’. And all your security will have to leave their guns outside the red Zone. Imagine some security guard from Egypt with a fully loaded Gun next to Gadhafi and Yasser Arafat.

So Vusi left with the ‘Winnie’ Group and I was left playing host to un-appreciative Africans. I later began to understand that to some of them this was a once in a lifetime experience and I was going to see Mandela next week and next month at the Rugby World Cup. Or at the Mandela House in Soweto for tea from time to time. Even at Shell house most Mondays. So I understood later. And we South Africans take this for Granted.

Well, a new Nation was born that day, A BOULEVARD OF DREAMS was then open. I was so hopeful about South Africa and I felt on top of the world. The Reconstruction and Development Plan was the new Buzz word. Our constitution was being crafted to great expectation and by the time it landed. It did not disappoint. The whole world nodded hail South Africa, Hail Mandela. Remember we had a bloodless Revolution to be admired by all. The people of Northern Ireland, South America, Eastern Europe and the Middle East came to South Africa for answers. We were the new Hope of the WORLD. We were the stuff that Dreams are made off.

With four Nobel Prize winners in Mandela, Tutu, Luthuli and de Klerk we were It.

By the time the Rugby World cup hit Ellis Park, and ‘Bafana Bafana’ took the Africa Cup, South Africa was the darling of the world.

We were still innocent then and did not know Corruption.

Our dreams were everywhere and somehow we lived them. I could feel it anywhere in the world I went.

Now we have the National Development Plan which in my view is a nice document with no specifics. It is like a plan written on a piece of paper with a beginning and an end at the corner of the page with some crossing streets here and there and come bends and curves and nothing else but an arrow going somewhere

You can see that it is a map but does not show you were the treasure is.

It is at this point that you realise that in the last 21 years we were entering:

 A BOULEVARD OF BROKEN DREAMS!

BY

Mac Donald Temane

For

‘Dad These Children Cannot Prey’

1987-2015

1987-2015

The other day my one and only sends me a text to tell me that she had just discovered the MZANTSI YOUTH CHOIR. Now this is intriguing since in 1987, I would be the one who tells her about what was going on in South Africa Culturally politically and otherwise. Since I am the black partner in the relationship and could go to the darkest corners of Mzantsi. Now I think that I am the white one in conduct and lack of knowledge of what is going down in Mzantsi.

She now has to educate me in what the township has to offer. If truth be told I have spent too much time in the Suburbs’ have lost touch……….I have lost touch!

The other day I meet a young girl in Emdeni Soweto, Now, in my time Emdeni was the real Wild Wild West. The township did not come wilder than that…….So I see this young girl about 8 years and my assumption is that she is a poor black girl, victim of surroundings no exposure, probably struggling at school etc…..I am looking for an address to pay my respects at the home of an old Diseased friend of mine…..I start by greeting her and calling her closer. She obliges and I start by asking her as to where I can find a certain number?

She then comes front up with so much confidence and asked if my car lacks a GPS in perfect English. Now, one I did not expect this, two I am shocked, three she takes over the conversation. She then says what the number was again. I repeat the number. She then goes on to explain how those who numbered this section of the township did not understand the importance of chronological order. But in any event she then explains the mis- sequence (her words) and how I should navigate going forward and tell me where this number will probably be!

I thank her, just before she gives me her cell number to call her in case the fool that I am gets lost.

I proceed in a shocked state to where I was going an indeed find the house.

After I paid my respects I find my way out of Emdeni and then begin to reflect at how out of touch with my people I have become. The 19 years of suburbia have really messed me up. I no longer belong in the ‘Hood’ nor do I belong in the ‘Suburbs’. It was at this point that I remembered that I come from this place whose pulse I no longer recognise. I think it was Nat Nakasa who wrote ‘A Native From Nowhere’. I could relate to him at this point.

So, in any event I listen to the Mzantsi Youth Choir cd and find a track called ‘Take Me Home’ which was very southing and relevant since Soweto is my home. I was quite surprised to see the CD sleeve cover taken from the Walls my old happy hunting ground ‘Eyethu Cinema. With the words ‘I love Soweto’ well pronounced.Cene van der Merwe who did the design cover probably had no idea that I used to que on that wall for my Saturday fix of a movie at The Eyethu Kiddies Club.

‘Homeless’ is classic and performed in their own unique style. It is based on that great Paul Simon, Joseph Shabalala & Ladysmith Black Mambazo original. This song never fair to send me back to 1987. I had not seen Nelson Mandela in person since I was born only when he was already in jail and all pictures of him banned. The very thought of missing someone who has been jailed for so long  and the effect of arrest and repression brought some disposition and deprivation firm and squire against you heart and you really felt Homeless in deed. Well I felt it deep in my soul.

The concert in the park in London had been staged in 86’ so all you heard anywhere in the world was the word ‘Release’ and you guessed it…..Mandela. In fact some kids in America thought his name was Release.

Anyway ,the track ‘WEEPING’ is also included in this CD.This is as South African as only the people in Mzantsi can make it.The Soweto String Quoted has a rendition of this and it is difficult to choose which one is the best. Mark my words not better but best, they are all good.

Then there is an inclusion of the ‘African Dream’ by Vicky Simpson. World famous great song.

Hallelujah written by Canadian Leonard Cohen is as South African as they come. One really then notices that South African songs are steeped in spirituality. This is why they resonate with everyone around the World.

Indodana is pure a’Capella piece about the Crucifixion of Christ in a manner that turns it into a southing feather lala-bye that encourages the end of suffering. Indodana is apt

Anyway as I come to the end of this CD, I realise that I was taken into a nostalgic journey of Mzantsi my Home.

Including all the GOOD, the BAD & the INDIFFERENT.

Ya ne’!

Heritage Reclamation

           

Heritage Reclamation

The year was 1983 or 84 I just cannot be sure but it really does not matter since I wise man once told me that, one should not allow exact times and year to ever get in the way of a good story. By the way this is my life story and all that is said on this book comes from true incidents or events. And the people are real, people who I met through this journey of life.

So, my mother asked me to go to Swaziland to fetch the title deeds of a property that my father had bought in 1966/7 from an attorney in Manzine.i still remember that this property was in Fairview Township. The next task was to go to Lesotho to do the same since the old man had bought more property there too.

It is at this point that I wish to tell all Africans who have a claim on a piece of land and cattle anywhere, even within a remote area. Go and Claim it. It is at the centre of all wealth creation process. It will give you the security you need to move out of poverty for your generation and build a better economic platform for the next. Believe me, now I know better. Had I known this then, Donald Trump would have nothing on me.

Before I left I had consulted with Matilda Moloi my old late high school  Girlfriend whose family lived and had business in Manzini.In fact we went to a Matric Dance together and won the best dressed couple prise. Her brothers Derrick and Charlie were great fun, Derrick the intellectual and Charlie the smart jokester. I even fantasised of Mrs. Moloi as a future mother in-law. She was very Good to me.

So, Matilda, gave me the lay of the land and off I went to Swaziland. I went passed Witbank and decided to go via Carolina route.

Now, you all know that Black Prisoners were sold to white farmers as cheap labour particular in the potato districts. What is funny is that one of my white Class mates in high school came from the same area and he told me that the workers called him ‘Mazambane’ meaning Potatoes.

I had read the exploits of the late Henry Nxumalo on Drum magazine a few years earlier and I was keen to see the equivalent of the American Chain Gang of prisoners in my country. Well, I did not have to wait that long.I came past this farm and found Prisoners working in a raw just as I had imagined it.

I parked my car and got out in the opposite direction to where I was going. For a few minutes I stood there to my and their amazement. A few feet away on a tractor stood a white man in a Khaki Shirt with blue patches on the chest .We looked at each other for a while with no one saying a word.

The prisoners were as baffled as the farmer  to my presence………..I stood there in my white button down shirt with a tie which was my signature dress then. Everyone wondered as to what my next move was going to be. One by one all the prisoners stopped working and looked at me.Something in me said to me ‘Son Give Them Courage’. I then moved to the window of the car and pressed the hooter and raised my fist in the Jessy Owen Pose and shouted: ‘Amandla’.

The prisoners responded as if in a practised unison: ‘Awetho’.

It then dawned on me that the farmer could actually just shoot me since I was trespassing and also inciting a riot. I jumped into the car a turned around and headed for the Swazi border at great speed. I was now on an adrenalin rush………………looking back to see who is following. Just before I got to the border near Hendriena I started reflecting as to what I just did back there. What was that all about?

I then parked my car in one of the bays at the border gate so as to mingle with other cars. I went in to fill a form and then handed my passport, all tensed up. My passport was handed to me without any hassles and I crossed into Swaziland without incident. As I drove into Mbabane a great sense of relief overcame me and somehow I felt secure and proud of what I did to the prisoners, even if it was just for  one minute and against one farmer. I was proud of this spontaneous action on my part, I could not have planned it better.

Little did I know that within Ten Years, South Africa would be a Free Country. So Strong was the White Minority Grip on the country that even as a betting man, if you asked me how long it would take before the birth of the new South Africa .I would say 30 years or in the year 2000,which we though was very far,and we would only live  it in space ships.

I went to the Hotel where Matilda had advised me to stay and checked in.I then went to the attorney’s office to do my business. I checked the rates that were due and I was advised that I should go to see the site. I arrived there to find a family living in the yard is a shack and they told me that they were paying rent to some old man whose surname kept coming up since the attorney’s office. I was there to reclaim what was then to be my heritage .I was getting the feeling that this old man was a crook and that if I met with him. I may end up in a Swazi Jail. Remember at that age I solved most problems with violence. I ran 12 km at an average of 3:50 min/km  flat and packed a mean left hook and a devastating right cross. I was not to mess with .I had 4 official gym fights with 12 KO’s and the difference in the streets of Soweto. If I hit you, you fell-Period.

So it was advisable that I not meet this old man at all. I then stated writing my report to my mother about the state of affairs in Swaziland. This I had to do for our attorney in South Africa and also as a recordial for our family.

I then drove down to the Moloi’ s residents in Manzini to pay my respects and also to check out the town for some business opportunities.In general I found the city dead and I was not experienced enough to do this task even though I was cocky enough to think that I know it all.

Night fall came and I took off to where I was to sleep for the night and I felt NOSTALGICK that my father who had died some seven years earlier was not there to see me as a young man.The last time I was in Swaziland I was with him, my mother and brother,Peter.I was six years old then.

Night time was sweet and a little hallow at the same time. I took in all the smells of lavender that only Swaziland can bring and from my open window I could see Mbabane at a distance and I got that feeling that you only feel on your first night in a foreign place, the sounds, the architechture,the foreignness .

The next morning I left the place where I was staying and went into Mbabane on my way out. I spend time in the market place which was just full of hawkers selling the same things. The was nothing special or different from them all. I went into some offices full of civil servants who always want to feel more important than the public they are supposed to serve.

I left Swaziland disillusioned and headed for the border. Did the rituals and crossed without fanfare into South Africa.

I then headed to the farm where I caused mischief the previous day. This time I did not stop but started hooting from a distance with my hand raised in a ‘Power’ salute. I could see the prisoners responding in the distance. I know they knew who I was and I gave them I little lift once again.

In my mind, I think that I did help at least one of them out of dispear.I felt like a small stone being thrown into a dam. The ripples of that one stone can be 20 or 50 .But whatever happens the dam has been disturbed at least for a while but sometimes these ripples last forever and never stop.

And as I hit Joburg I felt I did good and that the energy I left with the prisoners will somehow help us reclaim our country.

Again!

The Two Falcons in My Garden

The Two Falcons in my Garden

Whenever I walk or leave my house via the garden route, I come across this pair of Falcons. It is very clear that they are husband and wife due to their posture at all times. The lady seems to be bent and gathering while the gentleman is always upright and playing guard.

The male falcon who I will call ‘Godzilla ‘is a no nonsense guy, who understand and executes his role perfectly and with distinction. The female is very content that the male will deal with you accordingly and the male lets you know what the rules are without talking to you. The non-verbal conversation goes something like this.: ‘Chief, this may be your house , yard and all but this is my wife and do not come any closer and do not fuck with her.’ What is very clear, is that you get the massage clear, that messing with her is messing with us.

Now, bear in mind that I am a big guy, some people call me ‘Big Mac ‘who in their world I should be a giant. But No, no, he does not care, he has set these roles and I better abide by them.

The one thing that you get to understand in this whole communication and display is that. We are one and we live for each other. My wife is for me and I am for her. For the past seventeen years this has been the case for these two.

I have often wondered why is it, that we as human beings cannot emulate these Falcons. Why do we complicate our lives so much? There is no beauty for me better than the experience of love so deep. Love for each other.

Look, I do not know what else happens in the bird world at night, but what I can tell you is that, whatever it is that can strengthen love so deep: I want it.

I would often sit with Balekane in the garden and say look my dear, look at how he is protecting her. Look at how they relate with each other. Look at how they effortlessly kiss and hug as if on tune. Look at how they move around. All their action is designed to keep them together. I wonder how they sleep at night but I can imagine that even at knight the Falcon or Godzilla if you like, sleeps on guard am sure that he does get romantic and pay attention to his bride and let her know that he lives for her. The loving must be so deep that the lady can feel that I am loved. I am sure that she reciprocates in kind to say: Here you go my King let me give you the best of me.Balekane and I often joke that they give each other like we do. All of it!

It is at these times that I often think of Romeo and Juliet or Samson and Delilah. Where all that is around you does not matter. What matters is just the two of you.

I know that as couples grow, a child appears and you both change and give some of the love to the offspring but I think that in the long run the offspring leaves the nest and gets on with its life. And all that is left is you two. When all is said and done only you two matter or should matter. There may be a small sense of selfishness in my tone that the bond of the loving team is sac recent .I often admire a partner who follows the other in death soon after the other has gone. Just to say to the world: We Belong Together. Some of you may say but death is horrible how can you say that .But what I know is that Love Conquers all!

So whenever I see the Godzilla and his wife on my garden. I often thank God for giving me such a simple lesson from two un- assuming birds.

I often wonder if mankind can take these lessons to heart.

How Beautiful and Fulfilling Life can Be!

(From Tear Drop)

       By

Mac Donald Temane

Why The Poor Are Getting F*CKED

         Why the Poor are Getting Fucked

The main reason that the poor will get poorer and the rich richer is simple.

The poor through the ages have been sold a dud and they bought it. Allow us politicians to look after your interest. Let us go way back to the era of serfdom. This was an era where you had the monarchy and those who owned land or rather allocated land by the Monarchy in Europe. Those who owned land colluded with the monarchy to monopolise wealth and taxed the poor hence Communism. Today the politicians collude with those who have capital to ride on the backs of the Poor.

NOW, poverty of the mind is the worst form and it is perpetuated structurally.

In Africa, Jomo Kenyatta put it bluntly that when the Missionaries came to Africa, they had the bible and the Africans the land. They then proposed that we all close our eyes and Pray. When we all said ‘AMEN’. The Missionaries and the colonialists had the land and the Africans the bible.

For the next four centuries the African had to play ‘Catch Up’. As soon as he/she catches up. The rules of the game are changed. Sometimes not by force by or the naturel order of change. Dispossessed in the Agrarian age the African and all the Colonised had their energy sapped to retain the land. Before they even won that war, the industrial age was upon them and their focus was divided and they did not know what hit them. With monetisation and Stock markets allowing for new forms of money. The African had to dig deep, the wars of attrition and the world wars involved Africans in a mess not of their making but paid for it anyway.

By 1896 the war between Church and State that the Europeans had fought 10 centuries earlier was now being played on the African Continent with disposition and Urbanisation thrown into the mix.

The advent of the African Episcopal Missions led by Reverend Dwane of the Ethiopian order within the Anglican Church further divided the African mases with issues of polygamy practise not settled until today.

By the time the computer age came, the African was still spinning without direction and no Statehood with a few countries experimenting with Independence in a system of the Cold War witch was not of their making

This was not what pulverised the poor but what was to follow.

The birth of Career Politicians.

By 1994 most Black Business persons had more money than any returning and existing politician. By 2014 those with political connections were now Millionaires and Billionaires.

 Why?

Well, you see what politicians proposed to Africans was that. Look, let us get rid of the Monarchy by allocating a budget for the Monarchy and the Chiefs so that they do not interfere with the looting .Then let us create a parliament where we will first look after ourselves the judiciary and all organs of state where we will deploy and employ our friends and cronies. This we are doing in the name of you the Poor who we will always refer to as ‘the People’.

We will allocate R3.5bn to the Small Business Ministry where almost R1bn will go to our cronies in administration. Now please tell me that the heads of that ministry have ever run a ‘Spaza Shop’. Now if you have ever run a small business at all .You will know that the responsibility to pay workers at the end of the month is enormous. Anybody who has ever run a small business which is the real job provider can attest to the difficulty of running a business.

Productivity which should be at the heart of any wealth creation process is compromised or even destroyed.

Please tell me that all our parliamentarians are the most productive people in South Africa. And that any of them can walk into any private company and do well?

 My view is that we have a bloated national provincial and inefficient local government-Period!

‘Politicians and Diapers must be Changed Often, and for the same Reason.’-----Mark Twain.

Trickle-down economics has never worked anywhere in the world and in South Africa we are at a disadvantage. A lack of coordination between Institutions of higher learning and the private sector is almost non- existent .In other words the universities are not producing what industry needs but what the government thinks industry needs, no communication.

Now, going forward and to eradicate unemployment to under 5% will not happen under these conditions.

A small glimmer of hope does exist in the exponential nature of technology and if used wisely we may catch up. Put what is also true is that those who are ahead of us are growing exponentially too.

Now South Africa does not have a monopoly of bad governance, it is just that we all expected better and had high hopes for a Democratic State. If the current state of affairs is what they went to jail for all those years, then I have problems with their silence. Or maybe they were just bought off by being made parliamentarians then retired with living support? I am not questioning their sacrifice but their silence. Mondli Gungubele the mayor of Ekurhuleni put it to me and said ‘Mac, Democracy is not a perfect system, but the alternative is too ghastly to contemplate’. While I agreed with him on the sentiment, I still believe that we can do better. And reverse most of what I talked about on this section.

The poor on the other hand will remain helpless and poorer in this decade .I hope that the regular public protests will turn the hearing aid of those in power.

But …I am not holding my breath!

My 325 IS E-SERIES 1989

My 325 IS E-series 1989

My car was nearly stolen today 12 August 2015 at the Crowthorn Shopping Centre in Midrand.

For the past 27 years my car has survived all the thuggery that the South African thugs can master.

So for as long as Nelson Mandela was in jail my car was safe until, Now 2015.I had always vowed that if anybody stole my IS I wold find it the same day. This car has always been in demand for almost three decades and survived, Until now.

I just realised that I am not a thug that I used to be, I am now a respectable member of society who wears a tie and dresses in a suit and a white shirt. Simply put I am now a Punk, a Mogoe, a Kalajane, a Mampara.Someone whose candy can be taken from him .A Moemish!..........I HATE GETTING OLD .I hate being a target. For all my life even as a six year old, you could not take anything of mine by force or tricks anybody who tried nearly landed up in the local cemetery. I am mad, not that my car nearly left me unceremoniously after so many years. I am mad because I felt helpless and that I now know nobody in the under-world. I am now a sitting Duck.

I now have no pulse of what is happening is South Africa. I do not know the head of the car squad nor the head lieutenant off the Police. I have lost my power and I feel helpless. I feel helpless in the New South Africa, Somehow I felt stronger under Apartheid .I was never a spy or a supporter of the system but I knew how to work the system.

Once I found myself at the house of the BADDEST COP at the Brixton Murder and robbery squad who lived in Rockville Soweto. This is a cop who could shoot a man dead in broad day light back in the day and not even have an inquest on that incident or just play it as a robbery gone badly.

In terms of underground criminals, Man I knew everybody who was anybody. From the bank robbers to the clothing ‘suppliers’. I knew everybody or at least I knew someone who knew someone who can get me what I wanted.

I hate being Corporate.

You see, ever since I made the decision to get all University Educated and go Corporate .I have been living on other peoples rules, The fUcken Banks, the Government and the Criminals. Let me be quite clear.

Put together, all of these people are legal Gangsters. Think about it, The banks and the Insurance companies Steal legally from the public .Monies that do not get claimed by people who have no next of kin,Taking money from one account that you have, to pay themselves on another. My money that was in the dollar account was taken with no court action and when you are weakened you cannot fight and you are a sitting dead meat .Repossessing peoples cars selling them to their friends and screwing you for the balance owing. If this is not criminal I do not know what is.

Government, and the Politicians the less said about them the better. In 1992 I knew that I was richer and had more ties that all the ANC politicians put together. I cannot say that Today. Many who could not rub two cents together then and getting R15million rand handshakes and do tender irregularities of major propotions.In one case I heard of a R700 million split between three guys.

It is now an open secret that most of those in parliament have defrauded the travel fund. They all got off because you cannot put law makers in jail and some of the pleaded ignorence.But this is bull shit.We are just run by thieves finish and klaar. But having said that the poor get the government they deserve so in my book the poor have been sold a dud by the politicians. No wonder the office of the Public Protector is so buzy.God help us when Thuli Madonsela goes. It is going to be open season on all of us by the Politicians.

THIS IS HOW IT WENT DOWN SINCE TIME EMEMORIAN BY THESE THUGS:

‘Now, Poor People, allow us to take power from the Monarchy. We will place them on a small payroll with ourselves where we will pay ourselves much more from your taxes. We will hobnob with business and get our children into private schools and private hospitals when we are sick. You can go to public schools and hospitals when you are sick where you might get some education and maybe come out of the hospitals alive. In the name of George Washington, Lenin or Tambo.’

The Poor are Suckers and now knowing all this I have become one!

I feel so helpless, Darn maybe I should become a War Lord like Charles Taylor. I have run more than 300 people before and I can do it again. No wonder Pablo Esca Bal and Noriega did it their way. Yes they all got imprisoned and maybe shot but hey I might as well die on the high. At least I die with call honour.

I am Mad, and I MUST change the formula.

If I do not, I will be eaten for toast by people who are less talented that me.

I first felt the IS power one evening on my way to Sharpeville with my friend Tom Molefe in 1987.We were driving in my 160i Honda Ballade on the highway past the Everton. The IS went past us so fast I swear you would think that we were looking for Parking…….I tried to follow and all I could see was its tail light disappearing into Vanderbijlpark.This car was moving and Tom and I looked at each other as if we had seen a ghost. I remember Tom saying ‘Morwa we have to get ourselves one of these.’ From that day I vowed that I will buy this car one day and two years later I bought one. I remember how the kids loved it and stopped it at the scholar patrol section in Kliptown just to give me a wave on their way to school. I too did the same when I first saw the late Mr.Msibi in his cabriolet in Mofolo-South as a 10 year-old. It was inspirational.

I must never lose my BMW 325 IS, some call is a Shadow-line, others call it ‘e Gusheshe’ others call it ‘Gush-La-Gesh’ and those who really know is say(E’ Themba La Magomosha){loosely translated as A Hope for the Independent in Though, the Brave, the ones who do their own thing} .

And if truth be told it was Thendae Sithole who once said that ‘Mac Donald you are e’Gomosha’.And he has not seen one better. I made sure not to let my possessions poses me.For this reason I have let many of possessions go.Buildings,land,cars,busineses.I must change this attitude and get mean again

I must stay true to this credo, If I do not, what good am I.

I NOW KNOW THAT THIS IS NOT A CAR FOR ME, BUT THE ESSENCE OF MY BEING!

(Dad These Children Cannot Prey)

Looking for Love

Looking for Love

In the last two weeks, I have been coming across women looking for Love.

For a moment I wondered why the last two weeks in particular. Or am I just become aware of it or am I just hanging out in all the wrong places?......No, I think it is a combination of all the above. Come to think of it.Women are looking for love all the time and men on the other hand just looking for Sex.But since my focus in this booklet is about women I will stick to my subject of women because you are more important species in general than the proverbial sperm doners.Make no mistake I am not putting down the men by any means since they are the hunted here if truth be told. I am simply paying extra attention to women. Young women in particular and older women too. I will address you both separately the two groups of women that is.

Young women go out all dressed up to parties sometimes too overdressed. Now, get this one straight the is nothing off putting to a man than an Overdressed heavily made up women. Too much make up make you look like a Circus Clown in high heels. Think about it, huge powder with red lips. Do not get me wrong, some eye make up to show off your beautiful eyes and light make up is ok.Please do not over do it.You do not want the guys to see a different woman the morning after because after he has bonded with you he wants to see who he really bonded with in the morning and if the gap is too big he gets second thought on the spot. Did you guys ever wonder why he does not call the following day? The poor guy woke up next to a different person than the one he went to bed with. So stop the heavy make-up.

I know that most of you will be so bust up when he does not call and you think it is because you gave him some on the first or second date. It has nothing to do with how many dates you go out on .It has everything to do with the fact that he now realises that you are not the same person he fell for. So be you, from the outset .Otherwise you will suffer the worst case of a hit and run than any taxi I know.

On the other hand, when I suggest that you should be you. I am not suggesting that all your bad manners should show on the first night. We all know that you can be a bitch but darm do not show it all on the first night. Remember a relationship is work in progress for many years. If you do not like his mustarch on day one do not start attacking the guy on day one. You are not perfect yourself, nobody is perfect. The will be enough time to have him shave it.

There is this Bull Shit attitude particularly put forward by African American women that I am me and not going to be pushed around by anyman.These women go home alone. No matter how pretty and successful they are. Men are really simple they are just small boys who keep looking for different and bigger toys. So understand that and keep varying the tows then you are ok.Some of them do not like too many toys and they will let you know as you take it a step at a time.

I meet far too many women who say that men are intimidated by their success. That cannot be further from the truth. Most men I know would like to bonk a self-assured well doing of financially well doing woman who does not ask you for anything. The problem arises when you forget to engage with your femininity as opposed to your qualification or purse.

I once dated a woman sexy as hell, who was just hung up on her degrees and her MBA.I just wanted to love and bonk her. I did not give a rat’s ass about her degrees. I liked her not her degrees. And every conversation had a timeline of pre or post MBA.Darm I grew tired of it.Then she stated criticizing my 25 year old 325 is/ then I knew that she just came out of a farm to a University and knows nothing else .She preferred the latest car I bought which had nothing on my Classic. I know that sometimes it is just preference and the is nothing wrong with that but do not dice my car. I may not like all the dresses you ware but I will not dice them. That you have a degree means nothing to a love life. It is how you carry yourself as a person and the personality you have developed. So ladies let us park the degrees please. Let me put it this way a degree is a bonus.

I am now reminded of a conversation with one lady who wanted me to give her a silver bullet on Men in one sentence and she was quite adamant about it.So when I said the is none but a combination of tricks she started arguing and pressed me for the Silver Bullet. I then realised that she does not listen and was just desperate for the Silver Bullet. Yes you there are some cardinal roles and I will give them to you Now:

                      1) Read ‘Stand by your Man’ in this booklet.

                      2) Keep improving your sex exercises plus physic even when you are a big girl.

                       3) Learn Romance and Nurturing.

                       4) Cook, you do not want a dude to show you flames in the Kitchen.

                       5) Respect not Docility

                       6) Laugh and have fun

                       7) Smile (this is the best gift to yourself)

I am not placing these as rules, but guide lines to the happiness window.

One of the biggest mistakes that young sisters make is to pretend to be Pre-Madonna’s as if they have 100 men who wish to love and care for them. They simply do not get it and do not know how to differentiate lust from love……One of their worsed behaviours is to go out to a party to meet people not necessarily Mr.Right,people.Then they spend time on their Phones texting friends. If you wish to be with those friends, why don’t you go spend the night at their house?

First you introduce yourself to all at the party genuinely so.Then case out the joint for the one you wish to catch. Work out what needs to be done, help out at the kitchen move around learn the lay of the land. Do not just sit on your phone. I know most of you have not learned to deal with ‘Mr Lastag’ and you do not want to open yourself to him. You have to learn how to deal with this type of person and in fact you this may be your entry to get the guy you fancy help you with ‘Mr.Lastag’, If you do not open yourself or rather. If you do not open your hands to receive how you do catch anything?

You see, when you go fishing with a net, you bring in the Fish, Crabs and Frogs. But it is only when you have them that you choose which one to throw away. Being at one place and pretending to be at another is so immature. I know the are times when you are as horny as hell and that is not a very good time to be looking

Looking for love on the net is popular these days but it has its pros and cons.There is no question that the net is effective and will continue to be a powerful instrument. But I am still old school and believe in what I see. Conferences, Libraries, Theatres, Soccer matches are all arenas where people congregate.

My final parting short for older women. You guys have had affairs marriage etc. and have seen it all .Do not despair you  are as old as how well you eat and how hard you train so that  join a gym, running club and stay in shape. You will meet active people that you desire. If you are not prepared to put in the work then do not complain if nothing comes your way!

Extract

from

‘Tear Drop’

By Mac Donald Temane

Mining IMBIZO

Mining IMBIZO

Mining IMBIZO

‘The horse has bolted, do not shut the barn, recreate it in space to catch the elusive horse.’

I write this note on the eve of the second day of the Mining Imbizo by the Minister of Mining Resources Adv. Ngwako Ramathlodi .This is not an Indaba but Imbizo, an emergency call in African Culture to solve a specific urgent matter. This Imbizo is a great opportunity for oneness and a common purpose for South Africans to reshape the industry. To be blunt, redefine the Industry.

As a Diamontuer, Miner and Jewellery designer of more than 25 years’ experience. I feel well qualified to talk on this subject since I have lived the highs and the depths of this industry hands on. I have personal scares to show for it and lived both the upstream and downstream sections of this industry in Diamond, Gold, Platinum Iron Ore and Steel. I thought I must just get that out of the way right up front.

The biggest challenge of all the parties in this industry is that each sector sees itself more special than the other and deserving more percentage of the industry cake than the other. The biggest challenge here is their Egos. They all fail to see each other as sections of the same hand. And that the is no one without the other. Mine Management, Labour, Government and talking Heads.

All of them are hung up on ‘Commodity Prices’ and this is ‘Bull’ it assumes that the industry can only be structured one way.

I was talking to Thabiso Buku, one of the brightest minds we have, on our favourite chat line when suddenly a got a brain wave to write this article and give guidance. He pointed out that most of these challenges are quadratic and that they need different formulas and that left unattended tragic consequences could follow.ie a Marikana.

Let met deal with these Egos that I alluded to earlier Step by Step.

Management

These professional managers can only think in a liner fashion and as a result they are fixated on ‘Commodity Price’ as the Holy Grail. They drive labour to produce as much raw materials as they can.Even if they die doing it.They then give themselves huge bonuses in good times or when the prices are high. They then resort to labour shedding when prices are low. No inventiveness is accommodated. At R1, 5m per month for some of them I do not think that this is deserved since there is no magic that they bring.

To their credit they have to deal with cranky shareholders when you consider the nature of mining investors.

Labour

It is now an open secret that the Labour Federation in South Africa is no more. To put it bluntly there is a famine of leadership. The two major unions Amcu & Num are at each other’s troughts.It is war, and as a result when ‘Elephants Fight the grass suffers’.

The focus for both in particular Amcu is to demand more money even at the expense of workers. Their leader is quoted as saying that compromise from their demands. Is farfetched and the language is war. Egos are now entering the arena and we all know that when egos are introduced, logic walks out of the window.

Upskilling of members is seen as a management prerogative as opposed to a union responsibility to its members. I have had personal experience where unions refused stupidly so that I make workers shareholders so that they can receive Salary,Overtime,bonus and dividents.Since they think that this will erode their power. These are the same people who get paid even when workers are on strike. These are the same people who claim to have the wellbeing of their members at heart. With friends like this who needs enemies.

Government

The minister rightly edged that all parties ‘Lift the bar’. This should be the spirit of these negotiations.

The government should also ‘Lift the bar’ as well and stop being a toothless regulater.Have foresight and implement beneficiation even in good times. To me this department should be renamed ‘Mineral Resources and Beneficiation’. The minister’s yard stick is to reach 50% beneficiation of all produced minerals in his or her Tanure.If they cannot do this. They have no business in that office.

There are many issues that that can be introduced as to solve this impasss.One cannot fit them in the scope of this article .Many years ago I proposed a GOLD FUND and it is mis-implimented by the Industrial Development Corporation an organ of government. The less said about this the better.

Finally, I pray that sanity prevails at the Imbizo and if they fail, there are enough brains in South Africa who are not political animals but can solve the problem!

(This article was written with frustration, and sadness when you see your countrymen losing the plot)

By

Mac Donald Temane

The Movies

The Movies

The Movies

Of all the movies that I saw I only cried on two of them or let me say two occasions .First it was a movie called ‘Imitation of life’, this was a movie about a black women light in complexion who passed for white, in Racist America. The girl hated her colour so much that she was even embarrassed to be seen with her mother in public. The final scene was when she was reminded of who she was and Mahalia Jackson was belting a tune that pieced the heart and made your soul bleed with painful emotions. This was heavy stuff and I could not take it and broke down at EYETHU CINEMA.AS the light came on after the credits I sat there alone wiping my tears. It was important not to be seen crying in public because back then Tigers do not Cry and I was a Tiger.

An extract from:

‘Dad This Children Cannot Prey’

By

Mac Temane

Stand by your man

Stand by your man

Stand by your man

Most women would think that when I refer to “Stand by your Man”, I am referring to those times when the bastard has messed up. You know those times when he has been caught with his hand in the cookie jar or with some lady in a dirty hotel room somewhere.

Oh NO! I am talking about something that we often miss. You see, all men love their mothers no matter how ugly they look. Why?

This is because their mothers are always in their corner from birth. I am using this boxing ring analogy because it is apt. My child never does wrong! If you do not want my child you will hear mothers say, you do not want me.Even when the brat is a no good, manner less, stupid son of a bitch.Mothers stand by their sons.

This sons know not only from birth but before birth. The protectionist method of mother to son is deep, please bear in mind, I am not saying ‘protectionist method of mother to baby’. In some cases the baby could be female! I am saying protectionist method from mother to son. In some countries mothers are made to feel inferior for carrying a girl child during pregnancy even.

So boy children are protected more and start daily chaos later that girl children. And this boy children do feel the previlage.You see, you could swear at a boy with his father and you will definatly live.If you dare swear at a boy or man using his mother? You may probably die.

When I say stand by your man I am now talking to my sisters to up their act by understanding how to get under a man’s skin and create the bond such that the one he has with his mother. I am walking on dangerous group here but I do not care. There are certain things that needs to be said. Girlfriends like mothers need to be loved not just bonked, loved.You girls know how it feels to be loved. You know when somebody is really into you. When he worships you not in a slavery way but when he is really into you. I am aware that many girls have not had this privilege because young men these days have lost the loving feeling and some of them do not know how to love. With computer games, smart phone, and all that crap getting in the way.

In fact I was addressing a club of girls in 2010 and out of 10, about 6 had not done ‘chick to chick’, you know a slow dance

Tear Drop

By

Mac Temane

Hot Stix

Hot Stix

Hot Stix

Sipho “Hot Stix” Mabuse is my friend finish and klaar.This is how we say it in the township where I grew up!

When you say ‘finish & klaar’ you mean that’s it.Not exactly the Selibi{Jacky Selibi was our former commissioner of Police} way just that he is my brother.

Stix and I would go training at the then Share World Centre every morning accept Sundays. We would run a quick 6km for our warm up then come back to the gym for our 3 Super Circuits with weights and more running before Mike ‘Sporo’ Mangena, Fusi Zazayokwe come to disrupt our routine with jokes.

These were great times and I missed these sessions every time I travelled in the world. I would even even wonder what the guys were up to each time I was being messed up by jet lag or a different time zone.

I now have those days to thank, for an illness free adulthood.

Stix had been the founder member of the famous ‘Beaters’ and later ‘Harari’ in the 70’s.I first saw him at the Mofolo Five Roses Bowl playing a song called ‘Musikana’at the age of 14years.Little did I know that I would use this song as part of my Comedy Release called ‘e Moholo’which I hope to remember to tell you about at some point.

He was wearing a funny looking denim bellbottom and an Egyptian Style hat that made him look like a Pharaoh in Blue Jeans. Then he played a song with the lyrics ‘in the beginning’.

And at some point broke into a flute routine .The crowd went wild with this melody and as usual girls were screaming. I had not experienced this befo

Extract from:

‘Dad these Children cannot Pray’

                  By

Mac Donald Temane

Luki

Luki

Luki

Trough out my life, I have always looked at incidents of public concern as to how they affect black people but sometimes I would forget that white people are people too. It is only when these issues affect my white friends that I begin to come to my true self. A soldier for the underdog!

When O.J.Simpson went on trial in the 90’s I wanted him to win or not to be found guilty. Not because he was innocent. But because he was an underdog and he was black and I felt a Blackman universally was on trial not O.J. So, when he won, a sense of victory and jubilation overcame me and I felt good. I even forgot that there were victims in Ron Goldman and Nicole Brown Smith which was a mistake.

So let me back up a bit, I first saw Luki at Share World entrance gate where he was waiting for a taxi to town. He had come to see some of the guys that I trained and played football with Joe, Tommy, Chippa, Dance, Nhlanhla, Spear.He was just a tall skinny lanky kid still looking for a break. I then saw him fall over an advertising board after he had tackled a striker………….I then knew that this boy had something special. He always played with his whole heart.

It so happened that at that time I used to be training Chippa’s legs with weights. We agreed on one of my favourite training leg routines called three in one. All those who ever trained with me know this regiment………..It is the bomb………I even recommend it for women too if they really want killer legs.

Chippa was initially scared of a bit of heavy weights thinking that it would slow him on the field.

Now, in a qualifying game against Congo, Chippa crossed the centre line and unleashed a short that send South Africa to the world Cup in France. It was a thunderous short that had more than 60 000 people in the stadium jump from their seats and the then 40 million citizens ecstatic……….I nearly fell from my suite at the First National Bank Stadium………We were going to France and I was part of it, in my own private way. After that day Chippa was never the same…….the less said about that, the better.

Anyway, shortly after that both Chippa and Luki were signed by Leeds United in the UK.Chippa was an instant hit and the Elland Road faithful’s sang ‘Waltzing Masinga’ week in, week out.

At the same time Luki was not doing so well and never made the team for almost the whole season. He would be sitting on that cold bench. And the UK can be cold. Even though I did not know him as well as Chippa. I felt for him. I prayed for him………I prayed so hard and even wished for a Miracle. For me South African Footballers were on trial. I did not have Luki’s number and we were not close enough for me to just call him out of the blue. But I could feel his pain. And whenever I was in London I would wish that I could take a train just to go and cheer him up. I knew the difference that a voice from home can do to you when you are on foreign soil. I had experienced it with Jonny Mekwa and Jonas Qwanqwa one afternoon at Disneyland.

Stan Tshabalala and I would watch Luki and analyse his game and when Goerge Graham and David O’Leary started him as a destroyer we felt it is a role he can grow into but at least he was playing.

By the grace of God,Luki persevered and got better and broke records also to become the first South African to captain a Premier League team. And in a crucial game against Chelsea.Luki was given the task to guard Gene Franco Zola. He did an amazing job and marked Zola out of the game until he was substituted. From then he became one of the best man makers in the business.

Now, in a game between South Africa and Ghana, Luki marshalled Antony ‘Tony’ Yaboa better than a hawk. Tony as you all know was gifted on both feet with an AK-47 on his left foot and a Bazooka on his right. Tony was so dangerous that he could change the game in two seconds. So to guard him for 90minutes is a huge tast.Luki did it, and brought respectability to defence.

So, on Thursday the 2^nd of July 2015, I bumped into Luki in Braamfontein at the ORBIT and related the story of our support. It is always my belief that you need to Praise People while they are alive and not only when they are dead. We chuckled and extended pleasantries.

When my crew and I left, I knew that I just conversed with one of the best Ambassadors South Africa has ever produced and that our prayers were not in vain.

(Luki is…….Lucus Radebe,Hail the  Chief)

Makoti

Makoti

Makoti

The year is 1985, I am at my mother’s house in Pimville Soweto .I have sneaked into my room with a girl .It is now 4:30 am and it is time to escape out of the house before my mother wakes up and bust into the room to give me my weekend chores by 6:30 before she dashes of to her 7:00 morning mass at St.Fransis Anglican church in Rockville.

I am now a bit awake and still enjoying the romantics with a beautiful blonde girl that I had brought home.

Now, not only am I violating the immorality act, am also violating my mother’s ‘ no girl allowed in my house rule’ .At this point I am not sure what I should be more afraid of. My mother or the Apartheid police lurking outside? What makes matters worse is that I can hear gun shots at a distance.

You see, of all the guns that have been manufactured, none, make a sound as distinct as the AK-47. And if you had lived through South Africa’s turmoil years from 1976.You knew the sound of this Gun.

This is a gun that has widowed more women that any gun. What they do not tell you is that many young unmarried men and boys have also been killed by this gun.

Knowing all of the above I have to make a move!

My white Honda Ballade 160i,’Air Wolf ‘was great during the day but was useless in the early morning fog since it had no camafludge.One could see it glowing in the dark. This fact put some pressure on me to get out and go.

So I gently woke up my date and as lovingly as I can possible be under the circumstances got her dressed up for the escape. The high heels are great the night before and they show off that beautiful figure and that great back side but dam they are useless on my mother’s tiles in the morning. Particularly if you are trying to make a silent exit. By the time we got to ‘Air Wolf’ I swear I think I can hear so movement from somewhere in the house and some noise that sounds like a window tap is getting a bit loud. So we stop before we close the car doors to listen.Darm, it is ‘Spider’ my dog just getting excited that I am awake and he needs his morning pat on the head just to reassure him that I still loved him.

So now ,I am caught between the heart and the rock place. If I do not go back to calm him down, he would wake up the whole neighbourhood because he thinks that I am leaving without saying goodbye or giving him his morning pat on the head at least.

I then set my date roughly in the cold car, sneak back to my bedroom window to pat Spider on the head .As soon as he is calm I dash back to the garage to do my silent door opening trick (I cannot make this trick public since teenagers could be reading this.)Once the door is open. I slide Air Wolf out for the Great Escape.

Then I still had to take my route 206 to avoid the road blocks and the Comrades with their AK-47 to get out of Soweto.

As soon as I hit the Golden Highway I know that I am now clear and I can get back to the business of loving and comforting my date. Throughout all this she would be tensely by my side. Holding me occasionally and believing in me that I can pull this trough.

While silently believing that this is all a new adventure to us. Deep down she knew that I had done this before since I had been breaking the Immorality act since I was 16 and in the bigger scheme of things, It did not matter. We have had a great evening sneaked in and out of Soweto. All that mattered is that she is now my new ‘Makoti’.

And for the next 18 years we Trans versed what was then Apartheid South Africa!

Makoti-

Scholar

School Boy

Of all the brothers I ever had, and those who called me brother and those I travelled this journey of life with. None of them come close to School Boy David Tlhomelang.I call him Scholar.

I first came face to face with him in the 80’s in Taung in the North West in the diamond buying office that I shared with my late partner Mr.Morokweng Mothusi, who dragged me kicking and screaming into the diamond business. Scholar found me hard at work in that dark bank like office in that dusty town. I was going through some tough stones that I had bought that morning .Double checking their worth and what I was turn them into.

A tall gentleman, he gave me a big smile as if we had known each other for years. Fact is his Legend and Legendary deeds had precede him and as a young man who was a student of business and all that went on in Soweto and the a joining areas knew of him.

Now if you know anything about the diamond business at all ‘caution’ is the operative word. So I immediately got couscous as we exchanged pleasantries and now I know that there was no need. This is because this is the man I came to trust with my life.

So Scholar left the building and little did I know that he was going to be in my life forever.

Towards the end of my ‘Ten Years In Babylon’ Scholar was one of those people who would pick me up emotionally and even give me money for petrol unsolicited.

It was an open secret that the African National Congress’s (ANC) Underground activities was financed by Scholar. Cadre movement, food and arms movement were paid for and facilitated by him. From Cape to Gaborone to Mbabane to Lusaka to Soweto he was the oil. It is just a pity that after every Revolution. The Politicians take over and begin to kill the romantizm of the goals of the Revolution as they now run the beurocrates and move into the state houses. And the corruption begin as a way of life.

For the record, he is recognised as a Veteran Cadre of note but the honour he gets is in my view not enough. But what is new? most tree shakers of any Revolution never get the fruits. Ask Ernesto ‘Che’ Guavara.The man the Umkhonto We Sizwe (Military Wing of the ANC) Veterans called ‘Mathatho’ meaning Three from the three letter of his nickname. It is quiet ironic that I write this piece, a week after the Cuban 5 just left town.

Anyway in the late 70’s and Early 80’s I got to know that Scholar was the unofficial Mayor of Eldorado Park as well as Gaborone and Hillbrow.When I saw the Iron Duke(Ivan Khoza)for the first time he was driving Scholar around Hillbrow and the are too many great men today who came out of Scholar’s Institution. Many are afraid to admit it because they are now important members of society. Those in Parliament are too numerous to mention.

Here is a man who provided now important people with Socks, t- shirts and underware.Let me call a spade a spade while we are all still alive. You can check all I am saying from those who wish to be honest and tell the truth, who are not too many.

You Know, since the death of Nelson Mandela I have to travel far for Truth, Trust, Honesty and Humility. It seems to me that Even in the ANC this is in short supply. What attracted me to the movement were these principles and I am afraid we may have lost them.

The other day I read a few words from the late Chief Albert Luthuli and it soon occurred to me that Scholar is living proof of some of those principles. One of which is to truly be your bothers keeper and if you meet anybody who has crossed paths with Scholar. They would testify that he was always doing good for someone and not himself.

This is the Brother I know.

Mpho

Mpho
From time to time in all our lives, GOD or Allah or whoever you pray to provides you a gift of a loved one by your side. Someone who loves you unreservedly, someone who is just into you. Someone who worships the ground you walk on. Someone who is all you.
I know that we have all had this special person in our lives, BUT, for some Stupid Reason. We have let these people out of our lives and remained with the bastards who do not even say thank you anymore. Who forget our birthdays and our special moments because Orlando Pirates or Chiefs is losing 1-0 on TV! So what if they are losing, they are playing again next week.
Why is it that we look a GIFT (Mpho) Horse without appreciation? Most times we do not know what it is that we want for our heart to be content and covered with affection. Funny we all know when someone really loves us for who we are. We even sabotage ourselves by saying we are not ready to be loved so deeply, it is scary. Or no, no, it cannot be right that i am loved this way none of my friends are. Knowing full well that, this is excectly what we deserve, but no we do not want it until it is too late.
Is it not funny, that someone who once broke your heart comes running after you years after you are over him? Or have you ever been embarrassed by going back to someone who was once so much into you and though you walked on water. And they look at you as if you do not exist or you are drunk as you try to recall the times you had? Well i have, and believe me; it is not funny at all. In fact it is embarrassing to the point of dehumanising .It is a feeling that i only reserve for my worst enemy. So ladies, whenever you are presented with a gift horse (Mpho).Take it with both hands, it may never be Presented again. To hell with the choosy friends, who think that you must hook up with Mr. Nice Time who they love because of his BMW and fancy shoes. They even expect you to marry the guy (bloody selfish stupid so called friend).
When you feel someone deep in you heart and you know that they love you and only you go for it, mutual love conquers all.
(This piece is dedicated to Mpho Mahlatsi, who
Taught me something about true love).