The sun will always shine by Abigail George

The Coloured identity in South Africa has been massacred and annihilated from beginning to end. Gangsterism and the modus operandi of gang warfare has taken over the sub-economic areas of the Northern Areas in Gqeberha. The old refrain and sing song of “we must blame it on apartheid” that has cursed us must come to an end if we are to rise as a nation like the phoenix. Endure? We have endured. Haven’t we sacrificed enough? We have sacrificed enough. What about sirvival you say? We have survived and lived to tell the tale.

There are more Coloured young people in the prison system than there are studying at the lofty universities. Why is this so? Can it be that until we come face to face with the claws, the talons of the meat eaters of systemic racism and corporate brouhaha, the failing education system in predominantly Coloured areas then mark my words we will see a return to a wholesome identity.

What does it mean by coming face to face with racial inequality? Recognition must be given to unemployment and why there is such high unemployment figures in the Northern Areas. We are running out of time. Our children, the future, are running out of time. War has taken over peace in our time. The what ifs and the have nots sink deeper into poverty and while all of that is happening the rich, the 1% are getting richer. We need solutions now and not tomorrow.

By this I of course mean, not a fractured identity, not a spineless identity, not an invisible, unseen identity but an identity of poets, of oral atorytellers, of people who understand the medicinal properties of plants. We need an identity for our cultural and poetry practioners, our intellegentsia is crying out to be heard and what to do about the cultural trauma that descended upon this country during the powerful apartheid regime?

What about the heinous terror and atrocities that stalwarts, cadres, comrades, soldiers and veterans still live with? What must our intentions be towards each other now as we bridge this gap? Violence is being met with violence, is it not? Brutality, each to his own, is being met with brutality on the streets of the Northern Areas? Is a political party, our values, principles, church or God going to save us from the mendacity we find ourselves in?

I say this. That we should prepare ourselves for the worst situation and the best situation and weigh up the pros and cons. How do we evolve as a community, how do we establish a psychological framework for our intentions, our intellectualism and how do we enable the youth and our children to follow in the footsteps of Dr Neville Alexander, Dr Kenny Abrahams, Ben Kies, Dulcie September, Elizabeth van den Heyden, and the world renowned poetess Diana Ferrus. We remember Krotoa and Dawid Stuurman but do our children remember them? It will be storytellers in the oral tradition that will save us. It will be our poets and playwrights and filmmakers that will come to our rescue.

I identify as a Coloured writer, a Coloured poet. What is my heritage, traditions, culture if I take a tour down the memory lane of my childhood and adolescence? The smells of my mother’s cooking, the joys of my “brown” dysfunctional nuclear family, the schools I attended, the swirlkous, the peanut butter sandwich lunches, and the bully beef and Ricardo, the singer.

We must tell our politicians to stop with their shenanigans and help us to find these solutions to save our planet from climate change, global warming, this energy crisis that is affecting all of us. We must look to the future and pray. We must look to our children and help them find success in life. Where our parents failed us, we must not fail our children. The pain body, the collective trauma in our children runs deep. It’s intensity is blinding. South Africa we must not fail our children.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Widgetized Section

Go to Admin » appearance » Widgets » and move a widget into Advertise Widget Zone