Paradise Waiting To Be Uncovered

Rustic 

Ancient 

Older than Mandela 

Nothing is changed

Gates are rusty

There is electricity and water 

So it isn't so bad they say

Look how much we have achieved

Together we can do more the ANC says

One hundred years of existence the party boasts

A party it was for the ANC for a

whole year 

Celebrating dead heroes

Their philosophy begging for resurrection

A monument is enough the party says

For now they drink and dine in fine wines

This community can tell you in person what happened in Marikana 

No raise followed 

Just death and life as normal

Continues as it had since Colonialism

Yet paradise waits here

Paradise waits to be seen and unveiled beneath the unfulfilled promises 

Paradise waits behind the cloud of lack of vision

Even children are ready for more

I am South African

I am a South African

I owe my being to the women in red, white and black

I owe my being to the women in purple and black

I owe my being to the women in black and white

Who seek no positions

Who take no credit

Who never fight to be seen

Who expect no crowns

Abafazi boxolo               (women of peace)

Abafazi bankol’ingagungqhiyo      (women of unshakable faith)

Abafazi abathi behluphekile bathi bahluthi     (women who are poor yet count themselves as rich)

I owe my being

To women who do not beg

Who seek no human favours

Who seek the favour of One

When they appear before God

They know that kugqinyiwe, kwanele  (it is finished, it is enough)

I am South African

I owe my being not to the hills

Nor the mountains

I owe my being to the women

Abathi mntan’am qina          (who say my child be stand strong)

Mntan’am kuyanyanyezelwa   (my child perservere)

Mntan’am uThix’uyaphendula   (my child God answers)

I am South African

I do not owe my being to the mountains

I owe my being to the women whose faith is as unshakable as mountains

I owe my being to women who have said God’s love is deeper than the ocean

I owe my being to the women

Who have gathered every Thursday from Colonial days, apartheid and post-apartheid days

I owe my being to the women whose prayers are going up to heaven as I write

I am South African

I owe my being to every unacknowledged missionary

Who left England, Germany or France

Who braved unknown lands and scripted languages never before written

Who made mistakes but created ways for the future

I owe my being to my grandmothers’ prayers

I owe my being to my great grandmothers’ conversion

I owe my being to the fire of the Methodists

The faithfulness of the Anglicans

And every mother who prays

I am a South African

© siki dlanga

Inspired by Women’s Thursday prayers over Mhlobowene radio station.