zimbonats
10-05-2006, 12:00 AM
March 2006
Every where I look I see it. There is no where I can hide from it. I feel ashamed of my life, I feel so desperately sad. It makes me want to scream, scream and cry for the rest of my life. It makes me feel so useless.
I see the man walking along the road; his shoes barely look like shoes. His toes are sticking out, his heels too. You wonder why he even wears them?
His trousers are ripped; his shirt is too small. I see it everywhere I go.
I see the lady sitting on the side of the road, her baby wrapped around her, while she tries to sell you a bag of potatoes.
I see the people sitting on the street corners, with a cardboard box, selling sweets and cigarettes.
I see the young children walking around with brooms made of grass, trying to survive on the money they make. Never mind about going to school, that is out of the question!
I see the man lying on the road, so hungry, so tired, a tin can in front of him, in the hope of something, just something?
I see the people sitting at the traffic lights, whether it is in the boiling hot sun, or in the midst of a thunderstorm. Selling phone cards to the people going by. Can they really make enough money from that?
I see the people who have no jobs, spending their days in town, trying to earn a living from watching other people's cars, as the owners carry on with their precious lives.
I see the blind man, holding out his hands, 'God Bless you,' he says, when you give him something, no matter how big, or small.
I see disabled people everywhere, begging for money, no one else can help them, there are no benefits in this country. You are disabled; you are useless, that’s what they think. No opportunities for them, for anyone really.
I see twenty people squashed onto the back of a truck, trying to get home. Never mind that one of the tyres is flat, and smoke is streaming out of the exhaust.
I see the people who turn anything into art, bottle tops, and wire, steel, stone or wood. They have such talent, but it only just gets them by. Perhaps in the days when tourists came, life was better for them, but that seems so long ago now. Who would want to come and see all of this?
I see the queues for bread, for mealie meal, for petrol, for money. They will wait for hours and never complain. 'This is the way life is;' they all seem to think? 'What else can we do,' that's what they think?
I see the woman who has walked for miles, pushing a cart with a few vegetables and her child inside. Walking in the heat from place to place, trying to sell off the last of her produce.
I see dogs running about everywhere, so skinny; you can see their ribs. No homes, no one to help them, not enough money to care.
I see the men riding in a cart, two donkeys pulling them along. The animals look so tired, so hungry, and have become the poor man's car.
I see the security guards working all hours, in the sun, in the rain, for barely a pittance, I am sure?
I see the people here, so many of them look so ill, Aids is rife in Africa, and there is nothing we can really do? How can we teach everyone? How can we make them understand? How can we get them to see what life should be? How can we make our country a better place?
Things cannot go on like this. Eventually, everyone who can leave WILL leave. Who will be left? Tell me that? What will happen to this beautiful country of ours? What will happen to all the people we leave behind?
When I leave, I feel like I am abandoning a part of my heart. I am one of the lucky ones. I can go to a better place, a place with more opportunities. I can live my life as best as I want. I could even work for minimum pay, and I would still be able to live a good life. As long as I am not in this country!
WHAT ABOUT EVERYONE ELSE?
What about the old people, the old people working to scrape themselves a small living? Working as gardeners, maids, cleaners, security guards, petrol attendants. All the jobs WE probably wouldn't do.
What about the young people here? What hope have they got? Born into a life like this. What hopes can they have? What dreams? How can I have my hopes, my dreams, when there are so many people with nothing? NOTHING? No hopes, no dreams, no prospects for a better future?
It is not right, it is not fair, it is not balanced and I DO NOT UNDERSTAND WHY THINGS ARE STILL LIKE THIS?
I just do not know what to do? I do not know how I will ever be happy knowing all of this. How can anyone? We should feel ashamed of ourselves. We should do so much more than we do.
If we all just do a little bit more, and pass on this message. Maybe we can make a small difference? MAYBE WE CAN? But this message needs to be passed on, AND ON, AND ON, to EVERYONE in the world. Everyone who has the means to do something. Just something, no matter how small it is. JUST DO IT. I am sure we can make a difference! Don't you think?
"Ngaphandle kothando lethemba leqiniso impilo ibingaqakathekango lokuphila."
(Without love, hope and faith, life wouldn't be worth living.)
Every where I look I see it. There is no where I can hide from it. I feel ashamed of my life, I feel so desperately sad. It makes me want to scream, scream and cry for the rest of my life. It makes me feel so useless.
I see the man walking along the road; his shoes barely look like shoes. His toes are sticking out, his heels too. You wonder why he even wears them?
His trousers are ripped; his shirt is too small. I see it everywhere I go.
I see the lady sitting on the side of the road, her baby wrapped around her, while she tries to sell you a bag of potatoes.
I see the people sitting on the street corners, with a cardboard box, selling sweets and cigarettes.
I see the young children walking around with brooms made of grass, trying to survive on the money they make. Never mind about going to school, that is out of the question!
I see the man lying on the road, so hungry, so tired, a tin can in front of him, in the hope of something, just something?
I see the people sitting at the traffic lights, whether it is in the boiling hot sun, or in the midst of a thunderstorm. Selling phone cards to the people going by. Can they really make enough money from that?
I see the people who have no jobs, spending their days in town, trying to earn a living from watching other people's cars, as the owners carry on with their precious lives.
I see the blind man, holding out his hands, 'God Bless you,' he says, when you give him something, no matter how big, or small.
I see disabled people everywhere, begging for money, no one else can help them, there are no benefits in this country. You are disabled; you are useless, that’s what they think. No opportunities for them, for anyone really.
I see twenty people squashed onto the back of a truck, trying to get home. Never mind that one of the tyres is flat, and smoke is streaming out of the exhaust.
I see the people who turn anything into art, bottle tops, and wire, steel, stone or wood. They have such talent, but it only just gets them by. Perhaps in the days when tourists came, life was better for them, but that seems so long ago now. Who would want to come and see all of this?
I see the queues for bread, for mealie meal, for petrol, for money. They will wait for hours and never complain. 'This is the way life is;' they all seem to think? 'What else can we do,' that's what they think?
I see the woman who has walked for miles, pushing a cart with a few vegetables and her child inside. Walking in the heat from place to place, trying to sell off the last of her produce.
I see dogs running about everywhere, so skinny; you can see their ribs. No homes, no one to help them, not enough money to care.
I see the men riding in a cart, two donkeys pulling them along. The animals look so tired, so hungry, and have become the poor man's car.
I see the security guards working all hours, in the sun, in the rain, for barely a pittance, I am sure?
I see the people here, so many of them look so ill, Aids is rife in Africa, and there is nothing we can really do? How can we teach everyone? How can we make them understand? How can we get them to see what life should be? How can we make our country a better place?
Things cannot go on like this. Eventually, everyone who can leave WILL leave. Who will be left? Tell me that? What will happen to this beautiful country of ours? What will happen to all the people we leave behind?
When I leave, I feel like I am abandoning a part of my heart. I am one of the lucky ones. I can go to a better place, a place with more opportunities. I can live my life as best as I want. I could even work for minimum pay, and I would still be able to live a good life. As long as I am not in this country!
WHAT ABOUT EVERYONE ELSE?
What about the old people, the old people working to scrape themselves a small living? Working as gardeners, maids, cleaners, security guards, petrol attendants. All the jobs WE probably wouldn't do.
What about the young people here? What hope have they got? Born into a life like this. What hopes can they have? What dreams? How can I have my hopes, my dreams, when there are so many people with nothing? NOTHING? No hopes, no dreams, no prospects for a better future?
It is not right, it is not fair, it is not balanced and I DO NOT UNDERSTAND WHY THINGS ARE STILL LIKE THIS?
I just do not know what to do? I do not know how I will ever be happy knowing all of this. How can anyone? We should feel ashamed of ourselves. We should do so much more than we do.
If we all just do a little bit more, and pass on this message. Maybe we can make a small difference? MAYBE WE CAN? But this message needs to be passed on, AND ON, AND ON, to EVERYONE in the world. Everyone who has the means to do something. Just something, no matter how small it is. JUST DO IT. I am sure we can make a difference! Don't you think?
"Ngaphandle kothando lethemba leqiniso impilo ibingaqakathekango lokuphila."
(Without love, hope and faith, life wouldn't be worth living.)