Thursday, July 5, 2007


Writes: Enock Shishenge

The African National Congress had its policy conference some time last week in Midrand, Johannesburg. The policy conference proved to be a success because most of the motions discussed were of untmost importance and will help the majority of South Africans realise their promised land. The one on free-education will see most of our young people accessing free-education up until they finish their teartiary studies. That is, indeed, a success story in itself. There were, of course, a quite number of motions which were recommended for further deliberations in the national conference in Limpopo. Amongst those motions recommended there is one which says teachers should concetrate in educating the nation and forget politics for the politicians( teachers should not be councillors). That motion makes me ask myself a hell lot of questions: Who should be a politician? Teachers did not fight for Freedom? If they fought, were they not politicians then? Let me try to make my discussion litle bit lucid. In one of the SRC meetings the time I was a member where I studied I said: " There is no human being who is apolitical because politics affects us all one way or the other". The reason I refer to the above statement, which I feel it is still relevant today, is because the educators played a very important role in the fight of apartheid and still participating progressively in the relevant structures of the movement. If they say that teachers can't be councillors, does that mean they should also stop participating in the branches as chairpersons, secretaries etc. That simply translates to mean that they are forcing teachers to be apolitical which is impossible. And if they force teachers to be apolitical and become successful that means educators should also not vote and help in the processes during the time of elections. It is really unfair, why an educator alone? What about the other public servants such as nurses, administrators extra. And remember the people who seem to have a little education in the rural villages are mostly teachers and working as civil servants. Who is really going to lead in places such as these. Since that is still a motion which is just recommended I hope the majority of members from the branches will engage those who proposed the motion late this year in Limpopo. This is discimination at its best which will never be tolerated in any way. Siyodivana Limpopo.

Wednesday, July 4, 2007


Enock Shishenge is an energetic, aspirant and principled performance poet born few decades ago. His principle is derived from a Zimbabwean idiom: 'Failing to prepare is preparing to fail'. His poetry has been published in the Burning Shacks, Sowetan, Sunday World, Daily Sun, Timbila Poetry Journal, Turfwrite, Echoes, Wits Student, International Society of Poets Publication in the U.S and Theatre of Mind U.K. He appeared on Take5 TV online Poet's Corner. He also co-authored a Xitsonga poetry book entitled "Nsati Wa Gayisa" with Desmond Shishenge . Academically, Enock completed his Higher Diploma in Education with Giyani College Campus of The University of Venda for Science and Technology where he was also an executive member of the SRC. He also participated in a television series( documentary) coordinated by the Voices of Africa. He did voice overs for Love Life in Xitsonga, which will play on Munghana Lonene F.m. soon. He likes reading, writing and performing poetry to an extent that when he kicks the dust and leave the stones behind to join the heavenly choir he will dearly miss it than anything else. He is now a language and technology teacher at Eqinisweni Secondary School in Ivory Park near Midrand, Johannesburg. He is also an editor for the school magazine and coaches poetry at the same school. Poetic Words:
"She goes to church and confesses/
I've slept with men for bread/
I was hungry God/"
By Vonani Bila

Thapelo Mashiloane is a very powerful performance poet who writes a lot about township life-styles from love to ghetto struggle. He is the member of Eqinisweni Poetry Society. He enjoys drawing and regards it as his second choice after poetry. He is the member of Eqinisweni Gazette, a school magazine-he writes articles, poems and he cartoons and draws for the mentioned school publication. Thapelo is in grade 11. He is going for the British Council's "Power in the Voice" country's final with other learners from the same school.
"Give me ma' soul food/
For food/Give me the food/
For my soul"/ By Thapelo

Pleasure Madava is a performance poet. She regards reading as her prerequisite. She resides in Ebony Park in between Midrand and Ivory Park. She intends to continue with poetry even after her high school life. She is the founding member of Eqinisweni Poetry Society.

Poetic Words: Sleeping with these books under my pillow turned me a prostitute/. By Pleasure

Phuti Constance Seanego hails from Limpopo. She writes poems in English and Sepedi. She enjoys reading her poems to the masses. She is 18 years of age. She wants to see herself as a director of a company in future. She also wishes to publish her own book of poetry one day.
Poetic Words : I feel tongue tied/
But I am of many tongues/
By Phuti

Phindile Mdunana is a young and brilliant South African poet whose game is to play with spoken and written words. She fell in love with words after having met Mr. Shishenge who instilled in her the love of poetry. She is in grade twelve at Eqinisweni Secondary School, Ivory Park informal settlement in Johannesburg. Phindile was the junior editor for the school magazine (Eqinisweni Gazette) 2006-2007. She hails from Ivory Park, a section in Tembisa. She has written so many poems to date. Poetic Words:
Take me to the gravy train of soul/
Stroll with me and celebrate our love/

All the poets mentioned above are the only one's who are featured in the book "Egoli Ku Ya Sheshwa" at the moment. But the book will seek more poets to uneatrh their talents from Ivory Park and other parts of the country. The book is planned to be have more than 250 pages including meanings of words which are in Scamtho. Writes: Enock Shishenge

Tuesday, July 3, 2007


This is the biggest project I ever did together with my learners who are the members of Eqinisweni Poetry Society. It took me two years to put the pieces, which my learners submitted, together. Each poet had to write his/her lines and I had to work on all those lines and see if there is flow and rhyme. This poem is also included in an unpublished book of poetry which I am writing with my learners. The title of the book is entitled "Egoli Ku Ya Sheshwa". It(the book) is mostly dominated by poems written in Scamtho or Tsotsietaal. We are still looking for sponsorship to publish it. Enjoy the poem and also check the names of the contributor below. Hola majita na vo-babey va se kasie? Hi bloma eghetto. Sure! edited & compiled by ed. shishenge.

Ghetto Township

Six no Five
Amajita playin'
Ama dize
Late at night
Eating amakota for supper
Am'authi and their cherries
On da' dark dusty streets
Of our rusty township
Each other
French kisses
Which lead them to a stand-up sex
Without a condom
Spreading Aids
Hoping to take a shower
Just here
In this ghetto township

This ghetto
Spawns a generation of killers
The sport known is robbery
Sometimes car-hijacking games are played
Games never taught nor trained at school
But learnt on da' streets
Those are da' sports P.W Botha
Saw fit for a black child
Games such as bowling and hockey are taboo
In this ghetto township

Ducking and dodging bullets
Has become a custom
Bleeding drops so scarlet
On da' cold ma' father lies
Fallen cold -blooded hit by a bullet
While tryin' to help a neighbour
Attacked by the tsotsies
At her spaza shop
In this ghetto township

Flags rise together
We fight corruption
But eruption is the order of da' day
Crime not reducin'
And refusin' to end
This place is not worthy
And it should not be in ma' ranks
But still I live in the shack
In this ghetto township

Cuz of depression
We're always livin' in fear
But now we feel free to speak freely
Cuz we have freedom of speech
Inkululeko yethu
Let it spread throughout our land

As we live in this ghetto township
Sometimes we get down at dawn
The guns are like toys
Death even the kids never fear
Life is nothin', but a game
Those are the rules in ma' township

Our minds are so polluted,
Tainted with blood stains
Left by the apartheid regime
U nga hi kwatisi nyana
Hikuva hi nga ku delela nyana

House breaking we forced to do
Hansa drinking is our weekend 'special
Stealing is our new found culture
We create fashion in this township
Teenage pregnancy is the latest fashion
Famous like eloxion culture

In this ghetto
Rhythm is a regular beat
It always runs fast with the songs
Poems written in the shacks
Are of true feelings not shillings
O tla utlwa ba go botsa ka dijo
Tse galore ngi khuluma nga makota
Na magwinya
In this ghetto all you see
Ke menate, mekete, mafu
All you hear
Is the wind shakin' the branches of trees
And cheap electric wires
All you feel and taste
Soft glossy mud toes
The salty taste of fish and chips
And the watery meltin' water of an ice block

Here we have been taught
'F' before 'E'
Some say township life leads to misery
But to me it's a true identity of oneself
You better love it
It's not township because it is famous
But it is famous because it is a township

People livin' in this township
Are admired as role models
Cuz they are leaders and soldiers
The heroes and heroines of our struggle
Strong cold winds sweep through
The untarred roads of our township
But many men and women choose to call
These mkhukhus their homes
But inhalation of dust has become a habit
Killin' cockroaches is our daily exercise
In this ghetto township

They have called you ka mabitso
Still some say you are dodibox
But hi bloma ka da'
Hi lata kona rivambu at night
And never be ashamed of who we are
Bana ba thari ye ntsho

Dodibox we are proud of you
Cuz we have named a language after you
Tsotsi Taal is your brainchild
This is a place to be
The young and the restless
Become interactive
We speak our own branded taal
We great & say "Heita da"
Or "Wat se?"

Corner to corner of the township
You see cabals of amajita
Wearing Cavellas and Hugo Bosses ,
The popular clothing labels
Always they say "smoke da?
He sani a wu ri tsubise?
Never refuse
Never ask them questions
Just give them ishume to buy a loose draw
Cuz they will make you scared
And leave you shiverin' and shakin'
'Wena ntwana ke tla go roba mulala ka skrufu-driver
If you try go ri bayizisa'

But the more you love the ghetto township
It is the more the ghetto township becomes your lover
The more you are scared of it
It is the more it becomes dangerous

Rap like a township nigga
Drive like a township gintsa
Dance like a township patsula
Never forget um'nwana phezulu!
When you meet amajita a blome ekhoneni
All Star takkies is the first requirement
In this ghetto township

Ekasi lam' amajita aya phanda
U zo wa thola a blome ekhoneni
Waitin' for izingcozi za sgila to come back from school
To sell them izolo ne spinza
In this ghetto township dogs eat dogs
Kasi lam' va li biza
Ghetto township

Amajita call this place
Ghetto Town/ship
For it comprises mkhukhus
In this ghetto township
Streets are flooded
Ka vhati la masewage
Ma' sister's child wa sika
U phethe hi chuluko
Going ka da' clinic 4 i cure
Va n'wi chayela kuri a ku na medication
Only panados left
If she does not mind they can give panados to her frail child

Izincozi za se dladleni
cry because of hunger
Temptation pushes me
Kguri ki vaye ko gqekeza
So I can buy them ndzho

Entleik ku bloma egotjcini
Has become ma' custom
In this ghetto township amajita
Never got circumcised
Vari it's being insane!

Amajita va ya erowundini
But only to find out later
That va gwaze umakhelwani
Amagenge athi aya phanda
Ekasi lam' uvhaya nho nho!
Izi ngamla zi scared to come here
Cuz they are scared of car hijacking
The course leant by every young ghetto boy

In this ghetto township
When you walk down a dusty street
You feel the beat of vulgar kwaito tunes
aMajita smoke ganja
Life is rough and tough
In this ghetto townshit!

When ngi vhaya elokishini,
Called ekasi lama kasi
I see the youth wearin' the Italian shoes
Questions gyrate in ma' mind ukuthi
Why they wear expensive labels
While they sleep in the leaking shacks

Anger flows through ma' veins
Reporting the sting in ma' mind
Cuz the hungry stomachs of these kids-
Make me sick
The innocent kids
Left with a shack by their mother
Who died of aids on da' New Year's Eve

If wishes were horses
I would wish to be Bill Gates
Maybe I would help them
And build these poor creatures a house
Somewhere in Ebony Park
And send them to school in Oracle
They might become powerful citizens
Or kanjani?

In this ghetto township
Black person enjoy speakin' street lingo
Ke mo kasi mo
You see men sittin' together
Drinkin' umqombothi
While women gossip

Those who live in suburbs say
This place stinks
Balebala gore ba tswa kae
Being black is by knowin' your roots
And not forgettin' your background

In this ghetto township it's where
You enjoy skopo le sebete
It's hip and happenin'
Le di tsotsi di swara poo
Bo mamazala ba tshisa dinama
Thugs sell Taiwan,
A cosmetic name given to a fast drug
Placed in the kota
Sold for school kids
During lunch break
In the ghetto schools

We eat past-sell-by-date bread
And we don't use a doom to kill cockroaches
Just a shoe
Only if I had a choice
I would move out
Of this Township
Maybe I would eat fresh bread everyday
Somewhere in the northern suburbs
Where our leaders live
With their computer whiz kids
Warming themselves
With electric blankets
And speak
i'sngamla day-n-day-ou
with their coconuts kids

In this ghetto township
Toilets stink like a dead decaying dog
Politicians only come here
When it's election time
They always arrive
Carrying huge bags
Full of empty promises
"We will build you clinics'
Clinics without medications?
'We will build you houses'
Houses smaller than the smallest toilets?
'We will build you a better bridge'
Maria & Nokia were swept by water before the bridge was erected!

I have no radio
But I heard a scream of a little child
Raped by her uncle
Innocent girls broken-off-of their
Virginity every weekend
The reward of drinkin' n' kissin'
Maybe the prize of wearing the miniest of miniskirts
In this township

Ghetto guyz who owns taverns
With chains all over their necks
They speak beautified street lingo
To impress their stupid girlfriends
Who are young enough to be their last bornz

Here I never followed ma' cultural beliefs
Cuz I was never taught 'respect'
But the old ones said:
Ka gore sehlare sa musi ke go katoga
I would also like to move out of this tight corner

Ghetto Township niggaz
Killing and stealing is their career
They smoke, sniff, drink and provoke
Still they reason not
That is da' reason they kill
And never regret
They attend parties with the police officers
And well known politicians

They show seven phezulu
And six phansi
I tradition ya se kasi
Hunger and poverty
All niggaz survive
In this Ghetto Township

Poverty brings us together
Va maseve va xavisa swifaki na mabanana
Va oxa na ticondzo hi five-bobo each
We proudly speak our languages
To live to tell the tale
In this ghetto township
You should be fit to survive

Amajita speak in tongues
While the chicks pierce their tongues
The week-end rocks
M'authi ya spina ikara
Ku shayiwa' spinza ne zolo
Tshisa nyama braais ma' soul for supper
Every Saturday evening
At the Busy Corner

Linking shacks
Represent ma' present sorrows
Though it is a blaze of shame
This is ma' Ghetto Township
I was born & bred here
In da' Ghetto Township

Being born and bred
In this ghetto township
I learnt to speak the truth
Yes, I spit the truth
And discard the lies
Some say I utter nonsense
For I boldly say
"Township is hell on earth"

In this shantytown
Empty stomachs
Cry out of starvation
And whisper poverty
From their linked shacks

In this Township
Poverty is pronounced liberty
But through my poetry I state reality
And forget about who holds the authority

Layers of dreams already boycotted by ma' inner conscious, a vagabond
It sees reality
With the availability of poverty
I smell poverty,
And caress the presence
Of poverty
I hear the echo of dearth's sound
Bitter cries!
Through my poetry I spit reality
And forget about who holds the authority

In this Township folks know no liberty
Cuz hunger is a human slaughter
Look them pointless and penniless
In their leaking shacks
But still they put a cross on a ballot paper
Every five years
Voting for the bigger party
Endorsing one party state
Through my poetry I state reality
And forget about who holds the authority.

Fragile heart beats without hope
Intelligent brains
In deep thoughts
For a sparkling future
Future blinded by a daze of poverty
Through my ghetto poetry I only state reality
And forget about who hold the authority
I speak the truth
I spit the truth
I speak the truth
'Township is hell on earth'

Wa tlava mus' cleaver
Lights shine brightly
Brighter than the way they are supposed to
A poem of interest it's what I recite

I wanna tell you about my background
Joburg, Jozi, Gauteng, Maboneng!
It's where I am from…
There lights shine like stars
You can ever think of…

Egoli ku lapho ziwa khona
Each street is crowded
Like F.N.B. Soccer Stadium,
Which is located in this glamorous city
I mean the city of gold
Ka Sizulu bare Egoli
Damn there is so much
To tell you about it
So many townships
Surround this dangerous city
I'm talking about amakasi
Lapho ngi phuma khona
Now let me tell you about ekasi lam'
Tavern after another
Ziw a 24 hours
Sgubu waya-waya ,
Weekend special
What do you think about?

Lend me your ears
And let me tell you
About ikasi lam'
Meal after meal
Ku ya vhalwa ngo eight
Twelve- hour-service
Everyone's favourite
Bread plus fried potato chips
Mangole , Russian, Vienna
Hey, wena!
Special le cheese
Ke kota ntate!

Chicks and dogs
Move up and down
As if they are in a beauty contest,
Cuddling and hugging
Each other
Ke ma'authy le di cherry tsa bona
Abusing each other with
The famous wet kisses
On the dark streets
Of this ghetto township

At the corner the zol smoke
Causes air pollution and tb
Black Label causes havoc
Esan' i metropolice
They disappear like
ba spanisa chovo
Se ku nuka i dust
i Chuck tailor!
But it is a best sneaker
For abolova
While the Italian Cavella shoes
Is a favourite number one for amabutjwa.

That's the place I live in
Ku se kas' lam
It will never change
Li yo hlala li njhe
Just like the late Brenda Fassie said:
'Ngo hla ngi njhe'
Hayi ngi hi nja

Jump one street
At the corner
Zisha waya-waya
The gamblers have gathered in numbers
To make money
Ba khanda u cash
Hey, pop!
Hey, five plus two!
Ooh, six five!
The dice roll on and on
On the brown hardboard
Candles are still flaming
Late at night
To retrieve visibility
Ka da you become broke
In a minute
While at the same minute
Someone is getting richer
You snee/ooze you loose
That is the game baba!
You win some
You loose some
They gamble-up until at dawn
Waya-waya, non-stop!

Wa lahla ka 'utabola
Tsotsis are all over da ghettoes
Izinja za khona
Ne'ikhokho za khona
They bridge 9mm
As if they bridge a toy gun
Gun-fight is their favourite game
They give one another
Pathetic nicknames
Such as "Scroof"
"Okapi na bo bra Sparks!"
They spark fire
It's life in the ghetto!
What can we say?
It's hard to live
But it's easy to survive

M' pen runs out of ink
Let me take the red one
Usually used by abothitsha
To let the story live
On paper for ever and ever

Heita da ?
Ek praat jou taal
Ghetto Township lingo
Mamela jita
I feel the vibe of ghetto rainbow
Kere nna,
I am a linguist
I twist ma' tongue
Like abomrepa
Preaching hip hop ekasi
Through their hip hop jargon
Ngitshi mina
Ngiyatiqhaba nge lwati lwam
Phela ngi muswati mbamba
Ngi tshetsha sona
Le si phuma esqojeni
Sa se kuseni
Gepha ngi buya ekasi
Kere nna ke mojapere
Empa ke tswa
Ko Ghetto Township
Bashanyana bare ke ko kasi
Entleik mfowethu mamela
Ku se kasi laa
Uya ngi frustana
I life ya lana
It is just flowin' like
I vhati
Izinto za mzukwana
'Tsotsi Taal'
That's the way
The way of life in rainbow ghetto township


Pleasure's Poetry

Pleasure Madava is a perfomance poet. Once on stage you will feel her words. She perfomed to a thousands of audience when Eqinisweni Secondary School entertained the visitors from Wales, United Kingdom in 2006. I wish you see her perfomance one day. Check Biography)


Everywhere you go
You find me there
Some call me a lady of the night
Others say ke magosha,
Ke sfeve, ndzi dabadaba

Yes, ndzi xifevi
I sleep with all men I meet
Who are interesting & appealing
I mix Europeans and Africans
Sleep with the dead
I slept with William Shakespeare
And Steve Biko

I am also a lesbian
I sleep with Lebo Mashile,
Lereato and Ntsiki Mazwai
Yes, ke robala le bona

My loved ones feel pity for me
They think I will be infected
With the notorious bug (HIV)
They just worry about nothing
Cuz I gain knowledge
I just read not have sex
With all these people I sleep with
Though I sleep with them
Sleeping with these books under
My pillow turned me a prostitute
Sorry I am an informed prostitute

Darling Sarah

You left me in the halfway house,
Motherless with no guidance
You never said Goodbye
You were a mother, a sister
Darling Sarah my sweetheart

You read me poems and stories
You taught me respect
Still I expected a lot
But you were grabbed ruthlessly
Darling Sarah my beloved

You taught me that responsibility
Is the prerequisite in life
You taught me a simple principle of life
To accept what I can't change
Darling Sarah my dearest

You were there when I cried
To wipe my tears
Rest in peace
Darling Sarah

Phuti's Poetry

Phuti is a writer of note. She is one person who weave words so well to an extent that you feel what she says. She is in grade twelve(check biography)

How it feels?
He always said: "You are beautiful"
He stole my smile, my confidence
Young as I was threatened as I felt
I kept quite even though ke be ke e swa lebate
Ke dutse godimo ga magala
That was the tormenting feeling I was faced with
Telling mommy would
Only mean I brought shame into the family
But telling daddy would spell divorce
I felt I was sitting on a time bomb ready to explode
But if the truth be exposed
Ooh, God knows what?
Every night I lay sleepless on the bed
Sobbing, tears running down my cheek
My mind tortured by the questions
Was I too beautiful that he couldn't resist
Was it my fault
Whether it was mine, his or ours
It left an unhealing scar
Even though the first cut is the deepest
Mine was even deeper
That is the feeling of being raped
The torture continued
Where was my father?
Where was my mother?
I guess my parents were too busy,
Too occupied and little caring
Now it's too late to say sorry
That is how it feels to be raped
But I mean surely
Someone might have noticed
To be raped by your neighbour,
A family friend,
Someone you could lean on
In times of troubles
I learned that hard
Gore se bone thola boreledi teng gwa
Yona go baba
I wondered why didn't
They see it coming
I guess everyone was
Fooled by his charming words
His deceiving tongue
And the excellent way he dressed
But that is how it feels to be raped

If Only

If only I had enclosed
Not disclosed my feelings
There would be no torture
But all left for me is a broken he/art
Cupid tell ma' sweet he/art
I love her
Though she tramples on my he(art)

If Only
I had kept quiet then
Twisting ma' words
Would have been a thing of the past
They cast stones of laughter
While forgetting
Ukuthi nxeba le ndonda a lihlekwa

Cupid, please, go to the one who (t)ears my he(art) into countless pieces and tell her "She is gonna be da' one
I walk down the aisle with

If only
You cud pass that
Message to her
I will rejoice

Phindile's Poetry Of Heart

Phindile is a grade twelve learner at Eqinisweni Secondary School. Once she holds a pen it bleeds poetry to live on page forever.These are her two poems. (check biography)


Tzaneen, papa u kwihi?
Tzaneen give me hope
Trying to grab freedom
Hoping it will cough-out papa's name
But only left me empty, clueless and confused
I pulled myself back to life
For I needed answers
Young and afraid
Still shaking my head for answers
The desire of slavery drives me
To write funeral poetry
Though I never attended my grand pa's funeral last year
The pain had hurt enough
The world had sold anger for me to buy
Oh thou shall ask
Shall be granted…

Tzaneen papa u kwihi ?
Tzaneen give me love
Locked, blocked and enslaved
By my craving feelings
Poked my skin for the Tsonga blood to escape
Saw a glimpse of my father's shadow in the mirror
I knew I was still a Tsonga chic

Trial, tragedy, terror cud not chase me away
My inner being cried for peace of mind
All I needed was a voice 2 free me
A father to love me
Tzaneen papa u kwihi?
Tzaneen give me peace of mind
Confusion still drives me in circles
Wishing I was in the jolly jungle of Jozi
Trying to secure a place for my lost soul
A place to hide from this cruel world
My heart in zillion pieces
Than a million dollar could replace
Stayed in Dallas to meet papa's 3rd wife Dalla
Oh God, she wanted his Dollar
Can't really cry now
My tears are all dried out
By the anger boiling inside me
Received a msg from my heart
It is green with envy for you are happy
And I am sadly hopeless
Can't believe how we used to smile in the sun
Laugh at the moon
I'm in a dark room hoping you can switch on the lights for me

Tzaneen papa u kwihi?
Tzaneen give me answers
Screaming on top of my lungs
Hoping my curiosity will take me to death
But my satisfaction bought me back to life
Searching the muddy holes of Nkowankowa
For my identity document was being printed
Out of the home affairs offices
Your absence proves how u abandoned me and never said Gud-bye
My laughter has been washed away
Can't force a smile now cuz the force in me hopes you are dead
Thou shall ask,..
Shall be granted?

Valentine's Torture
( Written with tears falling)

It all started simple
Shifting from a hopeless soul
To a hopeful heart
Eyes clicked and linked
But never took an action
It was love at first sight
It wasn't love without fists

Valentines is violence
Violence is love in war
Date and brutal rape
I write on blank page
Where my fingers move freely
And conquer loneliness
Of being heart broken
And still have valentine
To celebrate with ocean of tears

Was it really worth it?
I question, yes I question??
Tears impede my eyesight
Mine heart is congested
Overloaded with loneliness
The dark cloud created to crucify me
For valentines is a day
Of war and death for me
War of feelings and death of love
It toured ma' soul and broken ma' heart
Valentine tortured me
Thapelo's Poetry:check biographies
Ma' Soul Food

Soul food/
Give me ma' soul food-/
For food /
Give me the food-/
For my soul/
Give me ma' hip-hop,/
Ma' kwaito, ma' afro-pop/
Jazz moody melody/
Oh! Give me/
Ma' mbhaqanga/
I just wanna be like Shwi Nomtekhala/
Men with an African colour/
Going like "ngafa-wangisiza baba"/
Oh! Give me ma' soul for food/
Ma' soul food/
My food for soul/

Soul Food/
Give me my soul food/
And just give it to me for goodness/
As it will mean my happy mood/
I am crying for my sister Bhethina/
My Dj Big T/
My " Sidla-busha-bethu"/
Just give it to me/
And I will leave you in peace/
Not in pieces/
Don't you dare think of "di phisisi"/
You buy on the streets/
Just think about/
My soul food/
My food for soul/

Soul food/
Give me food/
That will fit my soul/
Not food to feed my feet/
Give me my supersonic/
My soul candy/
My Dj Fresh/
B'cos I wanna get down/
And move my body/
Oh! " Hai sana u rongo"/
Because ke majaivane/
I can do i ngwazi/
Durban kwasa/
And I can belela you/
Through the rhythm of my music/
Especially ma'uphethwe yi nyongo/
Or else I will dance Masingita/
Ndzi ta ku ba ndzi ku dlaya mina/
Umang'thanda nginga phinda/
Becos ingom'emnandi i ya phind'wa/
That's what everybody says/

Soul food/
I will not rest/
Until you give me/
My Dj S'bu/
My summer rain/
That leads me/
To remember when it rained/
Well, there was a reason/
Cuz everything happens for a reason/
Even in C'max prison/
Hey! My Bhugaluv/
Eesh! U Zola/
How can I forget/
My main man from Mambhiza/
I am talking about Mzekesman/
Oh! I mentioned him as DJ S'bu/
Please, don't kill me/
I am just bloozing here/
With R&B music/
So I can get soul food/
To feed my ears/
My soul food/
My food for soul/
Soul food/
Give me ma' soul food-/
For food/
Give me the food-/
For my soul/
Give me ma' Belafonte,/
Ma' Oliver Mtukuzi,/
Ma' Dorophy Masuka,/
Give me my Merriam Makeba/
My Aluta continua/
Cuz I need to continue/
By: Thapelo Mashiloane From Eqinisweni Secondary School

The First Poem on Da' Blog

Ekas'Lam' Mad Poem 3

u ya ngi bona mina/
ma ng' vhay' ekasilam'/
iyo ! when i go to work/
at some school ka da' kasi,'/
bomagez' bath' a si thicha lo! '/
ba chayel' u sister lo ngi spana naye'/
bath', u thicha we njhani a nga bophiyi i thay' ?/
entleik bomagez' ba ntlabang' ikuth'/
to be formal and decent you should put on a tie/
they're still trapped in da' colonial thinkin'/
that of a tie and jacket/

entleik … sometimes/
u ya ng' bon' min'/
ma ng' vhay' ekasilam'/
izingcozi za sgila/
when they see me walkin'/
in da' dusty streets of their ghetto/
they scream/
mama uya m'bona u thicha' wam'?"/
bes' zing' gay' i hug!/
uzo zwa umzwali athi :/
'a siyena u thicha lo mfan'/
u ng' endza bari' i ' o' yakho!/
u thicha wakh' usemn'ani ka' njhe?/
U na manga!/

u ya ngi bon' mina?/
ma ngi vhay' ekasi la ma kasie/
dressed to kill/
ngi fak' i cavella,/
hugo boss,/
pringle na Georgia Armani…/
ne mcebo wam'/
amajit' ay' ng' cwany' cwany'/
they say ' sir u ya' ba cwany'-cwany'/
ba teken?/
U'zo ng' zw' ng' ngith':/
relax ntwana yam'!/
vana va xikolo va ehleketa/
ku ri ndzi bra ya vona/

u ya ng' bon' min'/
ma ng' vhay' ka da ekas'/
bestuurin' ma' friend's black velocity/
with an aerial/
yoo, die kara ' yi sexy !/
sure, i sexy!/
ba tegen ba ko' kasi' ba verstaana ikara!/
yoo! ba y' ncway'-ncway'/
die kara mfo'!/
every mama jack in da' ghetto/
wants to be inside this car!/
even da' girlz who pierce their tongues/
yoo! girls like turning a volume up-to-da-sky…/
playin' vulgar kwaito tunes/
mixing it wit' house/yindlu!/
one tells me 'buti 'u ne kara-/
u ya juwisha -/
for sure u ne mali-/
just buy us beers-/
never forget i nyama/
mina i'm all yours-/
mbamba no ma kumphi u ku funay'/
vandag ke tsamaya le wena ;/
says a chick who pierced her tongue/
and a tattoo in between her cleavage/
yoo, wena!/
They don't know/
Ikuthi a ngi ne kara!/
I kara ya Comet/

smotimes ya Score/
Ende yi be stop nosense/

entleik … sometimes/
u ya ng' bon' min'/
ma ng' vhay' ekasilam'/
i look and listen/
i listened and heard people/
talking about house breaking/
i looked around and/
saw daily sun's headline/
In this ghetto township/
This ghetto is full of corrupt-minds/
Unthinking and uncaring society/

ekasi lam' amajita athi aya phanda/
u zo wa thola a blome ekhoneni/
you will hear them say:/
heita jita awu s'bemise ka da?/
they wear dickies pants/
mix it with loxion culture/
t-shirt and sneakers/
never mind their jockeys,/
kuse ghetto ka da!/
even the fourteen-year-olds hav' boy-friends/
they groove at the busy corner/
and have sex at the nearest bush/
they master deep kiss/
than most of us!/

u ya ngi bon' mina?/
ma ngi vhay' ekasi la ma kasie/
ke kereya bashanyana/
kissin' in front of a 67-year-old magogo/
who does not understand/
freedom of sexual orientation/
enshrined in the bill of rights/
i heard Gogo say nay' mhlolo /
mfowethu lana zi ya buya!/
life i spinner njhe ng' car wheel/
you become rich very quickly/
and die easily/

ekas'Lam' zi ya buwa!/
fresh girls date old crocks/
they call them sugar daddies/
young boys caress bamagogos/
and call them quick-ATM's/
cuz they provide and/
take them to five-star hotels/
somewhere in Sandton City/
to chow da' money/
left by their husbands/
who died of aids for datin'/
the pick-up girls,/
those who wear miniest of mini skirts/
which reveal everythin'/
ekasi' ku njalo!/
you like it or no/t
you partake or not/
they don't care about you/
they never forget one thin'/
da' reason they are here in Jozi?/
Chelete fela ntate!/

u ya ngi bon' mina?/
ma ng' vhay' ekasi' la ma kasi'/
ke kereya moshanyana' ka da mzabalazweni/
he sings with a great tune/
like Mbengwa/
he never went to music school/
and qualified as music master/
but he sings nice in iSizulu:/
"ngathi ngi ya hamba mina…/
nga hlangana ne isalukazi/
esigangeni baba/

ngathi mama wenzani?/
wathi mntanami ngiy***
aku'namathoilethe lapha…"/
Ekas'Lam ku nje!/

Eintleik i life ya se kasie/
You will never understand/
But you know i mnandi!/
Sure yi ntswembu!/
Ekas' Lam…/

Ku lapho ng' bloma khona/
Ku lapho ng' gidla khona/
Ku lapho ng' groover khona/
Ku lapho ng' jola khona/
Phashasha pintjie/
Grand shlobo sam'!/


Mzala-Magaza is a blog which will deal with a variety of issues of all the great African people, especially the Matsonga-Magaza, either from Mozambique or the former homeland of Gazankulu. These people were invisible in the past but at the moment they come with remixes in various sectors. We will also deal with literary reviews, poetry, politics and socio-economic issues.We will make sure that we participate in the development of the Magaza youth in various spheres.Enock Shishenge is the founder and deem it his personal business to make sure that it functions smoothl with the help of his friends in the Forum.

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