WASA


I mean no disrespect, and intend to cause no trouble, but I should never have come here. If I’d known I would’ve stayed put, and never moved a muscle. Now it’s too late, I am already here. I might as well take the pain that comes. Maybe hindsight is really a fool’s attempt at escapism. Maybe we were never meant to be owners of these farms. Maybe humanity’s problem is ignorance, not racism. I know that I never should have come is quite clear. What is important now is how am I to cope facing four walls that appear white with a farsighted look, providing a false sense of hope yet get closer and you notice so much that you mistook. The dirty handprints, the blood stains, marks and cracks that render them utterly inhabitable. How do I cope when 20 months pass by with no rains? This is simply delaying the inevitable? How do I cope in this oven like room with only one air vent? How do I handle the distress, and the sweat that slowly affects my element? That only one window may be opened leads to being incensed, especially that the other window is blocked behind piles of bricks and sacks whose very position in the room induces thoughts of lament as well as pleasure. That I should never have come here is simply facts. However, there’s so much at stake and they don’t even realise the danger. Look at the mediocre minds I am forced to interact with, with whom to share my strength. Just outside my room female voices, women voices irritatingly disturb my thoughts at length. It’s upsetting to see them unable to make their own choices, to watch them wallow in ignorance and still wonder why life is an unfair form of punishment.  Theirs is an existence that is centred on waking up every morning eagerly ready to work for the establishment, and to take its every word as gospel, but not even heed to warning. Anxious to remain in the establishment, that ruined my grandfather it would seem and he quickly dumped his family for a young woman who showed him the new way; the same system that embraced my uncle before crushing him; the same one he is intent on stealing from today; the same establishment that has been cruel to my mother.  The same one that has caused my relatives to believe that I don’t exist, that I am possessed or misguided by the world that is under.  Overall, the cruelty, unfairness, corruption and exploitation persist to rob the souls of many since the fighters had the nerve to kick out Mr white. But I digressed, I am not interested in the establishment, no its leaders. This isn’t about them, get me right.  Being part of this god-awful situation I know I can no longer point fingers. The fact that I shouldn’t be here must be the more pressing affair.  I should never have come here, that is certain. But what is uncertain is whether these people know that I want to go there. I am packing it all and taking everything and everyone that I can.

#FOAG

#CovertTown

(My Intellect’s Loud And Noisy-MILAN)