Song of the solitary left eye tear drop by Paul Njabulo Vilakazi - HTML preview

Chapter Three

The calendar date is the 21st March 2024 and Teamswallows and Less Uvalo have arrived at Sharpeville and are walking about in and outside Ntate

Motete Leeu ’s house ,though in the old man’s absence at his close by the

Sharpeville Stadium house ,greeting folk found at home, as their hosts for the

day, including sharing the traditional African niceties; even with passers- by

across the fence, then stretching out their garden chairs umbrellas as they

layed out at the ready their day’s prepared pad victuals for the day…

As they also watch the crowds in their different political T-Shirt colours criss-

crossing each other’s paths going west to the main stadium and east to

Dlomo dam and near the Sharpeville’s old age home ,but all roaring out

chants of their different formations, songs of older and ageing traditional

Parties and a lacklustre whimper of those of the younger Generation Parties,

still braying out theirs, in almost more mellowed voices, but with all the

competitive heave-ho and verve ,that all could master; but all in motions

inching forwards and backwards typical of the African warlike dances , albeit

while wearing on their faces contrasting apologetically colonially bequeathed

smiles , with a mix of the new and most grand patterns of old dance forms

... All also careful, not to be out of step with the Liberation Traditional Toyi -

Toyi, that mimics the originally first danced in more gracefully and slower

prayerful paces by the Ama-Israeli of Ntabelanga Bulhoek in the Eastern Cape

only ,to be mercilessly mowed down by the Jan Smuts troops in 1921.After

they did not smile,not just claiming but taking up an ancestral piece of land…

As they finally patched themselves up in their garden chairs Less Uvalo was

all but almost drooling in salivate wonderment , typically of many foreign

tourists ,as Teamswallos breaks the ice:

‘To think Cuz, I have always heard the Freedom Songs sung, even on Radio,

but never noted as to how different their lyrics are ,let alone their finer war

dances and clearly differentiated also in hand and arm salutes…Clearly I

have been in the deep Rip Van Winkel sleep and I suspect most of my

generation born after 1994 are…

As we have been so complacent with little his/herstory we know, but more

dangerously complaisant with our political masters and mistresses misrule of

us, alongside their so called Opposition Parties postures and quite expensive

gimmicks ,at leisure to squander a gravy train period spanning thirty years

,come to think of it…

The post 1994 generation has to call for reparations and apologies graver

than those demanded from apartheid masters and now from these hogs,

who have already so hugely paid themselves with the carried over apartheid

dough…’

Less Uvalo yelping one more support, ‘Yeah, Team, and ah, am always

appalled by de logotypes, on de chests an backs of deir T-Shirts, eben so

tightly and gleefully ligaturin dem t’ deir very hearts, beating in deir chests…

In de U.S. political party worshipin ‘n laudin serving, is a White an somewhat

Black wannabe elitist game ; especially of dose who go t’ church t’ hear not

jus de cliched message from de imaginary de Lawd, but what party does dis

Lawd say dey mus vote fer, every time dese General Erections are flaunted

‘bout t’ flog every agreeable customer into de worst houses of sin worse dan

de Chicken Ranches and odder Whorehouses and dey come outa there t’

announce:

‘’Hey it felt like some huge orgasm reachin casting dat vote!’’

yet wifout tellin ‘bout what kinda Dollar catch dey got outa dat masturbation

on Massa’s ass . And do pardon mah French Cuz…But most of dese had gotten

handsomely paid fer jus fucken a vote…

And I hear tell, in dis Plantation ,these brothers and sisters usually get

emselves jus a couple bottles of beer fer jus fucken showin up…An Gud help

us all ,here an in de Diaspora ,if in de land of Shaka and Stuurman and after

apartheid our folk would still worship colonial political parties, worst of

all,dose funded by dat sewer rat Cecil John Rhodes’s an de res of born again

t’ money vipers blood …

Man somebody mus get ’bout cleanin up dis Plantation before Jesus pitches

up hesef t’ do de real job, doin de fucked chicken house sprin cleanin …

Back home if ye have ‘t emblazon anytin on ya chest or back, is when ye

sendin a Big Shout t’ de Babylonians at damn Capitol Hill, like:

DONALD TRUMP IS A HOG, JOE BIDEN IS LONG DEAD IN HIS FUCKEN

CHAIR…An dat is de milder ones…And ye can still earn a fleshy dollar sellin

em T-Shirts fer some rich slobber …

An here though in war like drills , Ah still see a lot of smilin…Ha de hell de ye

smile on a in March Posts of war troops ? De endemic Job Masecoo

condensed tin dat sinks ya war ship every day ,in dis country is d e smile

pandemic.

Ah been t’ some local polls ‘t observe an seen folk comin up ‘t a total stranger

wif some damn British ceremonia -protocolbullshit: ‘’Ha are u ?’’ ‘’Ah ‘m fine

tanks ‘n Ha are u ?…’’

In mah country tis jus ‘’Ha doin’’ ‘n “ha doin in turn ...” Meant t’ jus sayin ,

ah see ye aren’t a robot man… Ha de hell does mah been fine or not have t’

do wif some dude who ain’t mah family doctor man…?

Ah see some Africuns speakin sayin all da time ,’’Who gunned it? man…’’

and de retort ritually : “goat en who gunned it?…” and In response again

“goat…’’ dat one gets me man…

If ye have goat gunnin it man , fer ya, why cant ye have em goat cast da

damn vote fer ya man?...It real gets me…’

And Teamswallows interjects hilariously laughing ‘Yo, your American -

Afrikaans ,man… who gunned it … is Hoe gaan dit? and response -goed …Cuz,

just our own way of saying; I can see you ain’t a robot…Difference and I agree

is, you have to sing it like you owe somebody something…’

Less Uvalo like just coming to: ’ Ah, dats why ah been all de time ,so surprised

‘bout letting de damn goat do it fer ya…An more so havin read bout de

history of one Ancestor Job Masecoe who had in de World War Two, had

snuck up a German Freighter t’ single handed blew it up wif a bomb made

out of a tin of condensed milk, didn’t go ’bout askin no nigger who gunned it

,cause of cause he had done it- and was no goat…

Ah know our Ancestor Job, did not smile doin it and after doin it…An AhI

guess after noticin he’s no gloatin, scratchin when it aint itchin fer some

recognition, dey decided t’ deny im de damn Victoria Cross ,thikin de ‘nigger’s

too big headed…Jus let im go die in ,Qua Thema ,where all de ‘niggers’ go ‘n

die after fightin our wars… de firs ‘n de second war, jus like dat man…

Dat he died after bein pushed onto an on comin train ,perhaps while ridin on

a bycicle prize payed fer de damn war as dey pushed King Albert Luthuli fer

callin fer Peace an Martin Luther Kin fer seein de damn light at de end of de

tunnel only fer it t’ be of an oncoming train out t’ devour him Mthuli ca

Shezi,wuz pushed under its wheels for jus sain :

”AH MA BLAC AN AH MA PROUD!”

Nat Nakasa wuz pushed outa New York high up flat’s window

Yet no one tells dem stories t’ dese youn folk , of Great- Gran Pa Job

Masecoe, of how Gran Steve Biko died at de back of a police truck runnin a

thousands of kilometres of de dis-memberin his physical body carryin his

brain dead head from Kin Williams Town t’ Pretoria.

Dats why?... dey are jus full of smiles, even when deir own so -called

government of a majority has’nt yet honoured Gran Pa Job …Oh, ah own

Uncle Tom sits in Pretoria seat of Power, Jus like else where in de Modderlan

dey call de Own People’s Governance-‘ Independence’ ,here dey call it de de

damn Fleadom Freedom …jus like in de damn U.S. when Black Folk were

freed from slavery…Dey were told “ye are now Free… ye can buy ya own

shoes an hat an still keep ma hand me down suits an over-coats fer yasef…an

’bove all keep ya own nigger skin an no where near mah house...nigger dou

art free…

It jus goes on en on eben what ye deserve is Liberation, Total Liberation of de

total person , deir mind and soul …Dey are jus too happy t’ be now

Independent from de damn British, from de damn French,Freedom from

Apartheid…Deir later day leaders sponsors ,knowin no notin ’bout

Liberation; dey been given freedom from deir sponsors outa Massa’s

Vereeniging Plantation into ya own Sharpeville Plantations…Outa some

Roodeport ‘n Florida Plantation into de BraamFischeville Plantation…

Smilin like chuckle -head chiefs, yes dose were chiefs ,who were given trinkets

dat gave em lon miles ,lon smiles indeed an de land was taken .

Dey are still dere an dats why we still here an smiling at de Kin’s Castle

Jamboree …’

LAFA ELIHLE -THIRTY YEARS LONG IS THE WHOLE GENERATION…

Teamswallows now more energised, ‘ Ja neh,.. Job Maseko and his progeny

lot, like Tsietsi Mashanini ,Sibongile Mthembu -Mkhabela and Esau Raditsela

they didn’t wear no coon smile when they led the forces against apartheid

in1976 and 1984.

The liberation spirit lacuna between these and our youth today is so huge

,they cannot fathom the deeper gentrifying of our people even through

ruthless the genocide pogroms run by means of Nyaope and other drugs

grand schemes to more than silence our youth by brazenly zombie-fying

them.

The present political parties including those who still claim liberation colours

are all of dead men and women walking.

And those who have sworn to shaking the status quo hardly speak of drugs

and ‘stray-bullet’ genocide in the Cape Flats; their at best one man show is all

about rabble rousing the blood-pressures and sugar levels of fat politicians in

puppetry Parliamentary shows ,that earns all of them much larded bread. The

conviction sounded in Nelson Mandela’s signature punching the air with

Amandla! And Lucas Mangope’s stoic oratorical hedging to be moved by the

new forces on the S.A stoep then, is all but faded with mist of self -sorry

feeling or snout sat at the trough grunting “ My Chief or My Leader…’’ Then

the broad coon smiles marching to the Western styled polls as to a mock -

war…

Sad to see some of them in my neighbourhood emulating your American gait

‘n talk style ,asking about you about hores in your hood, and ducking the

sooner you suggest you talk some Indigenous history and cultural issues ,with

sick excuses like; “Hey man I ain’t into shit politics…jus get us de damn

buttons in dis hood ;” even talking and copy-catting your language’

‘Dis mad hatter was talkin t’ me,’ Less interposed; ‘while Ah wuz in de

company of two Braam Fischerville homies en dey warned me t’ be on de

watch out,as dis dude is actually a drug lord testin de waters - like de

possibility of me bein a competishon waitin t’ strike; dat also dey areal ready

marked demselves, as mah possible snitches an peddlers...

So dey got de shivers dere an den,while also a tad smarter,dey suggested as

dis gonzo would obviously if he sees dem more wif me.

So deir plan B wuz t’ be , dey see me only when dere is loadsheddin an dey

would purchase lantern dat we could use in de dark of my stayin place an talk

real serious Indigenous wisdom culture an history, Ah sad fine ,Ah will provide

mah smartphone to make videos fer Youtube and dey said spot on, if folk, see

us on video dey wont believe de tell, tell stories from de mad hatter and dere

wont be any need fer him t’ set up traps ,in our vicinity by plantin illicit drugs

fer his police friends t’come an uproot…An Ah sad t’ dem ya smart asses like

W.E.B du Bois, Dingiswayo,Sobukwe,Mandela an Biko ,lets go fer it…

An by de way my youngest brodder now five back at home’s name is

Dingiswayo du Bois mah dad is deeply ‘African’ Inclined ,Ah say African in

brackets till Ah go back home t’ re-orientate him dat dere is no place called

Africa…An thus Team an Ah just call it Modderlan an we would contest dis

understandin t’ de highest Institutions of Modderlan Indigenous Studies-till

de whole world know dere is no Ethiopia but Abyssynia an no Africa but jus all

Humanity’s Modderlan…

Only fer anodder lot followin de drug lord ,to come back to ya an axe ya

Team, why if his swag-strut is so gangsta like ,an he still conversely dresses

like a Harvard graduate, not showin off colourful underwear from saggin

pants, so we may be more confortable in his presence? All cause dey have

been so brainwashed t’ believe any serious talk besides corrupt scams is

politics and yet paradoxically knowin sometin ’bout Harvard .’

Team came in, ’Lord how I wish there were no politics and their Sorcerer

Mother wrought as the Bully Markets over the Motherland, long crept into

our psyche and even deeper into our DNA, surreptitiously by not only Bantu

Education but also through their newly contrived a special Brand Bantoe

Religion ,since especially the Huguenots landed here and their other pale

man-eaters followed them…’

Less took his turn, ‘Ah been t’ Ghana t’ Tanzania observing fer me every tin

including deir elections and Ah ain’t seen nobody smilin a lot…fer dis lies dat

de Ebony Kins sold some warrior people t’ de damn waggish White men .

No dey came outa ships wif guns an headed de unarmed Modderlan folk

into deir Virgin Mary ,Kin Jesus slave ships. Dey meant business an de

sleekest business at dat called religion…

Ya all here need nu therapy of ‘Non-Smile Clinics’ t’ debrief ya of de damn

nihilistic kaffirnated smile and its lumpen proletariat protractile effects dis

barrin ya from achieving national processes t’ clean up minds and souls…

De one of de two who got real serious wif me, dat I call Moss fer mah lack of

Indigenous phonic grasp,’

‘Oh, Mosimanegape and his friend with a whole sentence for a name-

SiyabongakuMsindisi an Indigenous inclined and conscientized as they are

they ,insist their names not be cut.’ Team helped ‘Yeah dose two are very

dope man,dey suggested t’me dat we catch all de rats out here at Braam ,an

cause dere are no cattle t’plough de land we span dem roddents to plow on

plowshares, as de Boers have taken all cattle togedder wif de lan,shoved us

outa White town an dumped us here in Braam wif only de rats to make do wif

all de rodents neo-apartheid has produced more dese rat sin our kasies dan

de world has wrought Corvid-19 casualties…If we don’t span dem fer good

taskin as rat-man-power,dat perhaps de neo-apartheid apparatchics nu outa

Greek Myfology dat rats represent bountifulness,plentifulness an

joyfulness,so why quibble , lets put de damned or hallowed rats to de best

use…”

‘So Ah call em de Greatest Raconteurs of all Time,good Messy Flys fer de

township in deep need of psychological therapy en dey call me Griots of Griots

in deference t’ fac dat ,I know more American Black History dan dey know

bout Slave Acres His/Herstory-den in turn I call em Doctors Ranconteur of All

Time …

Dey warn me dat at college White an Coconut folk preferred t’call em Moss

an Sy t’ a eben when dey were in de Schools Student Representative executive

dey had insisted dey call deir names in full,as dey aint done cut deir White an

Coconut names.

Dey promised if Ah stayed nuff longer Ah will soon be honouring dem by

learnin t’ call deir full names right an Ah agreed knowin it will real happen.’

Team jutted in, ‘Very, very interesting indeed ,my dad told me no one ever

saw John Vorster of their oppression time smiling and thus also for his glum

self , a song was coined ‘’ Vorster Shall Never Go to Heaven,’’ not ever about

any Slave Master preceding or succeeding him ,as they imagined his

candidature to hell was cast in stone, chiefly because he did not smile.

When I got to Washington D.C. and went to stroll around the White House

precincts ,where every Dick Tom and Hare- Brained can hold up a placard to

protest to what an American passer-by ,called it making a Statement to the

Pharaos and I never saw any one wearing a smile…It is indeed two worlds so

close in experiences but so different in physically expressing them..

One placard read : “We are tired of these Wives.” Folk equally glanced at it

with deadpan faces .

In our infantile democracy that would have made Newspapers Headlines-

leading to a charge of women abuse as if all wives are women …

Now that is before my perceptions on Pharaos,our Ancient Kemet Royalty

Realities were seen as deleterious to our religious health and therefore

sanitised with the colonial brand of it all ,here back home.

My Pastor who had loved making confessions ,had a wont to referring to his

young drunken days, as when he was in Egypt,as indeed he had been in Egypt

and haikhona not in Kemet…

This did nothing to my feelings ,for some time; then as I had been all but brain

washed about Kemet only now called Egypt after Caucasians began to write

their own versions of the Motherland Book/Biblio now called Bible….

If ever I get to have such out dated and outa kilter interpretations of that

Book, I’d walk straight up to him or her , hold em by the lapel and announce:

‘’Thou Shall Not Ever Preach To Me Anymore…’’

So really the right down mundane correction and bridging in correction the

two worlds ,will still indeed take some long haul… Perhaps we have to

patiently wait for agents like deep-fakes- false-wreak havoc, enough first

before we could collect the pieces to build anew our whole wide world…’

Less Uvalo laughed softly ‘Dats still quite religiously optimistic Team,Go give

Pope Francis a call an he will tell ya dat sometin close to an atomic bomb will

have t’ clear de way firs, even before de mistakenly hoped to come back

Christ ,make up his mind as to whether ,he mus come back, teach more

science ,wifout openly debatin wif de writings of Moses ,while he very

skilfully had convinced ya dat he was jus fulfilling old Dada Moss , dan done

tryin to debate im…’

Teamswallows feining boldness to send out an almost muffed quizzical

quibble, ‘Now you tell me Less ,What are we really up here damn for? Are we

some unpaid observers or are you perhaps freelancing for some Washington

Post or some Ghetto Tribune of sorts? At least outside of myself; are you

some U.S. Embassy mole using filiation ties and opportunities? Come un,

now out with the damn truth Cuz…’

Less Uvalo laughed out loudly ‘ Normally Cuz,Ah am ole school ,ah don just

shoot from da shoulder wif any lady, but ye asked fer it…

Bof of us ,are here jus because of a rare curiosity trait imbedded deep in de

people ah call, ‘ people of de mixed bag genes’’ specially when dey put deir

damn gene convoluted heads together…Like David Stuurman an W.E.B du

Bois on Zoom between heben ‘n earth locations or ghettos down dere …

Yo an I are of some crank Paul Kruger’s loins and de womb of some innocent

pleased smilin Gogo , happen t’ know it, an dat alone makes our crunch up

though many a maze of mind curiosities ...Eben s ome folk who are like us but

don know it ,wouldn’t bodder ’bout many tins even if de Plantation Big

Honcho had desecrated deir family holy name like ours…

We are kinda uppity ‘n claimin more rights dan most ,eben if we have t’ admit

it.

We are not floutin it out openly , “cause it aint yet a thick story yet” ‘t be

amply told, wifout de reality of getting a huge ‘national frown fer outin

it…We need ‘t feed de still young our stories like dis Plantation bring out

measly food parcels ‘t de poor t’ get deir miserable vote…

Now yo tell me straight, would have Paul Kruger our Caucasian Ancestor

ordered dis massacre here in 1960? ’

Teamswallos almost cornered ‘According to history yes, there are episodes in

his history that reveal his real brutality to the Indigenous people openly

thinking of them as inferior to the so-called Whites ,yet like your Thomas

Jefferson who slept with black slave women jus t’ increase his Plantation

Slave Labour Power our great- great grand-mothers; the one being directly

ours as one of them.

And yet my apologia would still in many quarters be judged harshly as

politically incorrect and if this country does not in especially this oncoming

elections deal with doctrines of politically or un-politically correctness , we are

doomed to remain the miserable slave that we still are, even in the twenty-

first century…

I am told our Gogo Ancestor used to defend Oom Poul thus: ‘’Jan Smuts

slaughtered our people in 1921 at Entabelanga in the Eastern Cape ,just to

show off to the then Crown as to how he can deal boldly with the ‘Bantoes’in

a near insurrection …

John Vorster was showing off to H.F Verwoerd his Boss what he could do to

protect apartheid.

Before them all was Oom Poul and he governed the whole of the then

Transvaal ,of all colour shades of people. He was based in his Capital Pretoria

and was physically available to all his subjects and dealt with them in his

own way, in the day racial idiosyncrasies inherent in all White rulers and

Bosses of the day…

Without a body guards and all alone he enjoyed walk about among the

Indigenous people settled around Pretoria ,whistling all the way, at all times

and thus they called him Mamelodi “the Great Hilarious Whistler” and

shared his loins with a God Fearing Bible reading Black woman , and Great

Missus could live with that result, while some of the Indigenous women also

worked in his ‘State House’ house untouched

Our Great-Great Granny was one of the most trusted and could be alone with

him, for long periods of times and what is called euphemistically; wild oats

was sowed…It was a Missus countenanced-sanctioned Polygamous set up,to

take care of the sexually raging White bull appetites….

If ever we are wild enough; especially for me, who will soon be writing a

letter to the Head of this Plantation called S.A. and is Paul Kruger’s direct

successor , that he must repent forth with and apologise for desecrating our

Ancestral Holy name Takalane, or did he do it for knowing about our lineage,

to Paul Kruger? .For I know as sure as our gods are ,he did not just pick up a

random Takalane ,but my name given our family connections and thereby,

hoping to appease us and heal the rift that had developed in time…

Having made out of it ,the worst mockery since the days our young people

were labelled coconuts. That he can be so ruthless against the image of a

woman child carrying such a name as ours…

Now back to Oom Poul , he reigned in a .S,A. and our Ancestral Granny

worked for him, she had earned a living and a bonus she was said to have

been proud of ,to be with child as a spinster ,during her chores at Die Groot

Huis…Time indeed for S.A. to know that oft our his/herstory gets to be just

more badly soiled because much of it remains hidden…

Was she a no good House Slave? Let you and I, continue to be part of that

deep nuance of that conundrum of herstory…

Incidentally there is legend or just old wives, motherhood and apple pie story,

that this Gogo from whom we got our light skins, used to brag that she was

deflowered by a a White President Boss of all Bosses of his time and not just

a Bantoe …Me I can live with that vanity-call me Uncle Tom and even Aunt

Jane of sorts if you may…

If she had had her way, the line from her in the family should have been

classified -Coloured – and would have had all the privileges appurtenant to

it all.

But her very eldest son, would have nothing of it, as he had asserted: ‘’ We

have royal blood from our Motswana Grand -Mother and also from our

Tsonga Grand-Father’s side, we Ain’t going to throw that to the dogs ,in

favour of a Boer’s name who would not care about our future and had hardly

coughed out anything for one Molato ,in regard reparations for a Mulatto

progeny despite his being made on pillows of millions of what came to be

called the Kruger Coins.

By Molato I mean Cuz, the traditional African reparations paid for

deflowering a virgin…By the male responsible and cases of want , his father

or the whole closest nuclear family…Sometimes with distant clansmen

throwing in something…

Less Uvalo loudly Interjecting, ‘What great show of civilizashon, unknown to

many parts of de world includin some of de so called religious …’

Teamswallos offers, ‘Yet here we are Cuz,as part of unapologetically living

out our chequered genealogical pedigree ,even as it continues to in an

uncanny ugly way unfold…

We are here to ask our Sharpeville Gods to help get the vermin running amok

in this Plantation so blindly glorified to be called a Country.

We very badly also need to step out very boldly to let the world that the

history of our people is not singularly one dimensional despite ,you being a

minority out there and us a majority ,close to a blessedness of being in the

Human Motherland out here…’

Less Uvalo comes in, ‘Yeah Cuz,ah hear ya only very well, ah am glad dat old

Paul was a little better dan a Thomas Jefferson President of the U.S. who had

bred from his own blood , dozens of offsprin borne of slave women as jus all

time, workforce on his Plantations he was not an Oem ,he was a human slave

breeder machine masquerading also as a President…

If dese d e progeny of his offspring can today parade emselves as of Thomas

Jefferson’s loins jus t’ claim that dirty ‘ Presidential blood’ that continue to

more dan insult America , yo an I have all de time to demand fer still

reparations fer Oem having jus contaminated our blood jus a little, because

he could…Let his other progeny give back de land an dey can have back de

blood dat we did’nt axe fer …And he begins to rap:

We aint have no need fer de blood

We need awa Humanity back

Nelson Mandela ‘n Robert Sobukwe got de blood

Leopold 11 ‘n Netayahu got de blood

But do dey ever give Ah share of de blood back

While dey can keep deir own dirty blood

We need Awa humanity back

De more we tink we Black people are different across the Waters ,de more

we ubiquitously remain jus de same….Amandla ! Nga Wethu…ILizwe E Lethu

…At least dat one war cry,Ah have long mastered…’

Teamswallows almost conclude, ‘The game is finally over Cuz, never to return

a match at this Holy Land stadium ;just as the actual Sharpeville shootings

were followed by a pour of rain ,that our people had believed had come to

clean up the blood …This 2024 mid-day a storm begin to form and belch and,

terrify the Big Honcho of the Slaves Acres badly out of his pants; as the Gods

are strongly signifying that his time is up, not only in the country but

significantly at Sharpeville, where he would not ever be allowed to play

games desecrating the graves of our martyrs. If ever he would finish his term,

never again would his now lying abject party ever after the most historically

nauseating Takalane fable…never…

Never will he from a position of Power be able to insult our ancestral name

never again

In 1918 in the dark of the night, a group of Afrikaners had assemble at H.J.

Klopper’s farm in Parys to form and found a most profound underground

organ ever on the Mother Continent to ever put mechanisms in action, to get

the Afrikaner in Power eternally on our soil and in the Continent. After the

most clandestine Bunga ever to plan the take over of South Africa and the

ultimately the Continent-Klopper had declared that no power ever on the

Continent reside anywhere in Africa, let alone in the minds of all its collective

colonizers …In that very year Nelson Mandela was born; he went to jail for

the Liberation of his people, was freed after twenty-seven years to come and

ultimately govern for five years ,in which he did his damn-est for a country stll

in strong chains and his dreams and visions were defeated by all of those who

succeeded him.

You and I stand here at Sharpeville today, on the undoubted threshold of a

new world enlightenment and our touching ground here ,is more than simply

historical but a witness of Greatest watershed experience on the continent

that the not Spiritually enough media has not taken note of.

The actual chucking out of the Plantation Chief Honcho not by the people, but

the Gods themselves is phenomenal and you as an African in the Diaspora has

just had a witness of it in Technicolor and you will tell me ,you still doubt you

area history maker yourself…For right now ,I am commissioning you and

many of us to finally come to our senses to resolve on dealing -after five

hundred years of slavery to apartheid- with the Continental trauma that has

chained our minds all these years and none but none of us has been able to

develop humanly the total overwhelming potential in our genes than in our

brawn and oft greed from slavery to post apartheid,where even machines

have been able to be used better than us in their existential worth to

humanity

A Post Traumatic Stress Disorder if gory enough, if it affects you right now

after a loved one parent guardian and friend .But of five hundred year over

lapping into apartheid inhumanity right into post-apartheid, post Sharpeville

human insult and succeeding slaughters like Marikana, Life Esidimeni and our

children dying in pit latrines, taverns, circumcision schools and in swimming

pools while on school excursions ,it is a war as there are here right now

Nyaope, Wunga,Tick genocides across the Beloved country…

In the absence of the debriefing mechanism of all, combatants ,oppressive

killers and the traumatised just because it would have denuded not only

former S.A. army operatives, would have been asked of penitence and even

personal reparations and many would have though very heavy exercises

,obliged in many innovative ways, that would have surely created space and

ground large enough to come close to healing our land and its people, it was

stopped more by our own from exile, lest it would have come to denude the

worst residing in them, that mostly had nothing with fighting for freedom

than many an ego and monetarily aggrandisement.

And many would have been totally dis barred from seeing just a day ,in

Mandela’s government.

Following every war in Africa, a cleansing ceremony called the washing of the

spears is instituted to Spiritually cleanse the people as much as mentally

affording them the Post Traumatic Stress Disorder Therapy.

I ask you to go and think hard on it all Cuz,and home grounds like Sharpeville

and Gory Islands could be considered for regional cleansing of all our people

on the Continent and the Diaspora areas like Haiti and Jamaica should also be

considered for Feast of Music,Visual Arts ,Cuisines and Spiritual Expressions

pertinent to Healing on the Continent, Modern Medical Therapy would also

beat full play, in order to fully embrace our changing world and all Human

Benefits would ensue out of a ; “Continental Cleansing and Healing” As the

word debriefing would be strenuously denied space ,Great amounts of outlets

for these would just automatically obtain.

One of the Greatest Poets and Griots to have lived in this Country, Don

Mattera wrote a book :

“MEMORY IS A WEAPON”

No one should ever be allowed to play with Sharpeville Memory, as you just

witnessed the gale of storm, drive President of this Country out of

Sharpeville followed by all the collective effervescent Stockholm captive - by

the Gods in your face…

The organising and fine tuning of it all, starts right now ,in casting Ballots to

clean up all Human Abusing Governments in all the world’.

Less Uvalo : ‘ Ah offer t’ ya Teamswallow de Greatest an Profoundest Bow t’ d

e Gods of de Modderland and t’ ya ,right here at Sharpeville’s See ye So Street

.Dis project already done in ya heart ,is done t’ de universe…’

Teamswallows genuflects ‘The honour is to the Motherland Cuz,even to just

have you in it and around to so quickly learn languages of your own people

and with the sharpest of ears to sounds out of this Slaves Acres …The correct

pronunciation is Seeiso named for a Lesotho King as is Sobhuza,the two

longest streets of Sharpeville running parallel to each other; Sobhuza is for a

King of Swaziland ,what a most Historical place is Sharpeville.

The Boers had intended it for a most brutal human slaughter but the Gods

spared it for the ultimate African Human Honour. While Human Rights Day ,is

a fitting side show, it must not take precedent ever over :

“ Sharpeville Izwe Lethu…”

We need not even a long deserved leave, to start preparing for the Greatest

Human Healing Event in the Whole Wide World.’