Sunday, April 21, 2013

I AM NOT JUST TALKING BACK, SO YOU BETTER LISTEN


New24 can choose to not publish my article, and quite honestly, I would be offended, as I strongly believe that my voice, which echoes those of millions, needs to be heard. Only this time, I choose not confine my tone to the Political Correct terms. It’s so tiring it has lost every thread of making any sense. I am sick and tired to the core with our leaders. And I am using this platform to express myself, call it talking back, whatever, but you better listen.
Each day we hear our leaders using every platform, insulting our kindness and intelligence, well, that is, if they still believe we are left with any. Now, seriously, some people really suffer from brain farting syndrome, whatever that is. If this is how we’re going to sing the praise of our fallen heroes, drag their names to political diarrhea when it helps politicians to barb easily? If this is how our leaders will choose such moments of honour to settle political debates, I am inclined to lift my middle finger and tell them to push whatever they are going to say next and push it up their butts. Perhaps they will remember that this is what happens when you corner a cat, no matter how skinny you have starved it, the cat will open its claws and attack.
Let’s tell the truth.
No one cares. Our leaders don’t care about the poor. Period. It does not help to sugar coat how our leaders view the poor. The discourse is hypothetically easy to follow: deny them education, they won’t reason, cripple the health system and kill them, screw up the culture of service delivery and leave them miserable, imbalance the justice system and scare the hell out of them, strip them their rights and leave them vulnerable. Essentially, create fear and make them dependable. While they, our leaders of course, with their close allies, fellow comrades, cousins, sons and daughters and extended family members milk the cow only for themselves. It is greedy and unthinkable.
We are insulted by our leaders and they spit on our faces every day. The poor are the victims to the system. All they are given are empty promises that are repeatedly said they have become so boring, you listen to our leaders speak you almost finish their lines. Yawn! A lot of the same thing is happening over and over. On the one hand, for example, you have the same main roads in Diepsloot Township tarred every time the elections get closer. When it rains some parts of the areas are unimaginable to think they should ‘house’ people. How old is Diepsloot and, how old is democracy? Go figure! On the other hand, you have reports about politicians renovating their mansions to the price higher than the purchasing price of the same mansion.
It is when you read about reports coming from the poorest part of the country about leaders buying expensive cars for their use that I get the creeps in my body. What is more insulting is that they don’t deny having committed such outrageous acts as they believe to have done “accordingly”. Who buys an almost half a million car when the majority of the people you suppose to serve are starving? I guess it is the same person who boldly lie to the country about how safe South Africans feel in this country better than they did 19 years ago. We “feel safe”because our dear President signed some stupid papers “to help ensure everyone feel safe”. Really?!
Our leaders should simply stop the bickering.
The elders vote for nothing except hoping to send their kids to better schools for better education, to have their health well cared for at public health institutes. The young women vote for nothing except with the hope that they will one day walk the streets in summer nights without fear of being reminded they are woman, and therefore “they are weak”.  But are these people getting what they have hoped for by giving their votes to leaders. The answer is a big fat NO, another insult to injury. Parents still send their kids to uninspiring buildings that resemble schools. Almost every day we wake to news of women, girls and girl-children being raped. Then our leaders will be quick to make faces, telling us how much they condemn rape, that our society does not have a place for such people. Knock! Knock! We already know that. We all want it to stop, what are you doing as a leader to steer it to the right direction to stop it is the question. Plans, plans plans, plans that never see the light of the day. Why should the NDP be effective in 2030 when Nkandlagate is a matter of urgency? Sick, isn’t?
I am not negative about my country, don’t get me wrong, but it gets harder to see the sun when the big clouds keep covering the sun, and it can get uncomfortably cold too. When every day you hear are plans being put to help the poor, instead of helping the poor, it is hard to hold on. When every day, we hear from our leaders telling us that education has improved, while our matriculants (who are supposed to be at tertiary or working) shows no knowledge or interest in life. You wonder who to believe, the leader who talks about an improved system or the kid who is so ignorant about life. We live with these kids, to listen to our leaders telling the world such rubbish, is totally unacceptable, it’s an insult.
I won’t be part of this insult
I am failed, defeated and sadly, abused by the people I trusted with my vote, democracy, freedom, worse and, my life. I am bruised and buttered from the wounds incurred by the same people who said I could trust them. These wounds are serious they will take long to heal but they will heal nevertheless. When they heal they will be scars that will be a reminder of what trust can do to a person. But they will also remind me of one very important thing, to make the right choice.
The choice is not to allow another insult. I have, therefore, decided to lower my middle finger, and hit them where it hurts the most. I know it’s going to be a hard one to make. I won’t be taking any T-shirt with any face that has spoken insult to my life. I won’t jump into any free-bus-ride to listen to any leader campaigning and lying to me about my future, when all they mean is give us your vote and go back to your miserable life.  I am going to spit back to their faces. I am going to take their free grocery and eat the food. I figured I will need all the strength to make the right choice. But my vote won’t be bought by soup, rice and mealie-meal. I won’t be affected by the old brutal films about apartheid that they use to manipulate my feelings as a black person. Yes, I am a human before I am black and therefore any human can feel with the brutality committed by the system but those films won’t affects my emotions more  than the insults you spitting at my face.
Times have changed and things are not the same anymore. Enough of this rubbish, enough of this insult and I am not going to be part of it anymore.

Sbu Shongwe

An African man can never be proud to use his mother’s surname but an absent father must also take the responsibility to be called a father by his son. I am nonetheless, proud to call myself a Shongwe in honor of this tough woman who raised me irrespective.
Now I spend half my time instilling those values to young men around Thembisa, Alexander and Diepsloot townships through a variety of cultural activities, including theatre and photography. But I must earn a living, which is why I freelance as journalist after a one year internship sting with Sowetan as entertainment and news reporter.
In between there is my BA degree in Creative Writing through UNISA, which I must complete to add on my other achievements: Certificate in Film and TV Writing from the South African Script Writers Institute, my Certificate in Advance in English from Wits Language School, skills in online media acquired through attending workshops.
Follow me on twitter: @shosbu

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