I great all the followers of this blog. Though I haven't posted anything since 2007 I realised that there are so many people who are viewing this blog. This blog has proven to be one of the most visted blogs in South Africa. I promise that this is the second coming - you will enjoy very interesting stories that surround my life, your life, our lives. I have banked so many seasoned stories, poems and wonderful pictures at the back of my 1 billion Gigabytes. Remember the online beauty show I spoke about when I first opened this blog some years back? In 2013 there will be a very engaging beautiful pictures which are going to be posted on this blog. If you know that you have what it takes or want to be published on this blog do not hesitate to send your views or pictures to enockds@gmail.com.
Friday, December 14, 2012
Friday, September 7, 2007
2 PAC DIED IN SEPTEMBER, LET'S REMEMBER HIM...
Writes: Enock Shishenge
Tupac Amaru Shakur was born on the 16th of June 1971, New York City in the USA. The 16th of June, remember, is a Youth Day in South Africa. The parents of Tupac were said to be the members of the Black Panther. His mum, Afeni Shakur, was pregnant with HIM when she got arrested for the demonstrations in New York City. 2 Pac attended the Baltimore School of Arts as a teen, but later moved to Marin City, Carlifornia. While there he lived mostly on streets. By chance he got a breakthrough when he appeared briefly as part of the group called Digital Underground. Since then he never stopped he released his debut album 2Paclypse Now. The album I used to enjoy so much. He was attacked, for his explicit lyrics, by the state organs. I Get Around came out in 1993 and achieved a platinum standard. In the album there were some brilliant tracks such as Strictly For My N.I.G.G.A.Z. ‘Last Words-‘ ‘United we stand, divided we fall, they can shoot one nigga, but they can’t shoot us all”. His acting also flourished. He appeared in the movies such as Juice, Poetic Justice, Above The Rim, Bullet; Gridlocke’d but was removed from Menance Society II for the jail sentence in 1994. He was short but survived in 1994 in New York Times Square. This shooting is the one that led to the West Coast/East Coast grudges because Tupac accused Notorious BIG and Sean ‘Pufff Daddy’ Combs of knowing something about the shooting in question. He was arrested for sexual assault charges and sentenced to four and half year in jail. While in jail his “Me Against The World” and “All Eyes on me” were released. They did very well and topped the charts in the US and other parts of the world including South Africa. Surge Knight, the president of Death Row Records arranged parole for Tupac and it was granted to him in eight months or so. On the eight of September, a day before I celebrated my birthday in the rural village of Jimmy Jones where I come from, he was shot after watching Mike Tyson vs Bruce Seldom and five days later his body and soul went separate ways. It was different from other big people who die mysteriously; there were a lot of explanations and theories why he died. One theory was that because he had slept with Faith Evans who was Notorious BIG’s wife. This led to more hatred between the west coast and the east coast. BIG was shot dead six month later and Orlando Anderson, the main suspect of 2Pac’s death was shot dead also in May 1998. But Tupac like Mantshwa Bemuda, the powerful musician from South Africa, released albums after death. When 2 Pac bite the dust was 25 years of age still young and with many dreams to achieve. Many people usually say “He lived and Died By The Gun”
THE VIEWS ON 2 PAC, A CONTROVERSIAL MAN!
Q: Is 2 Pac dead or alive?
A: The question seeks a lot of thinking. But I think Tupac is dead though there are so many reports which can convince young stars that he is still kicking and making music and money.
Q: Which reports do you think confuse young stars?
A: Such as the one that appeared on the Sowetan few years back. They reported on the five videos by Tupac and others that featured him. “The album released after Tupac contained, on the sleeve, the words: Exit Tupac, Enter Machiavelli., “American reporters allege Makaveli is the rap star’s spelling... belonging to a 16th century Italian philosopher, Machiavelli,” reported by the Sowetan. The investigation went on to say that “This great thinker is popular and is also known in history because he recommended that people fake their death in order to evade one’s enemies and gain power. It is…documented that 2Pac was tired of ….’gangster wars’ which dominated the USA….” So if you can check this view it seems to be credible though it is not. When young people come across these kinds of reports they get confused and think it is true without any proper understanding of the motives of these kinds of reports. I nearly got into the same kind of a trap as a teen but later realized that I had to dig deeper into the main purpose by doing a research which proved most of the theories wrong. So the youth should not be led astray or misled by reports of this kind. The reporters of this particular newspaper mentioned that Tupac left Mike Tyson’s fight in Las Vegas on 7th September 1996 whereas it was on the 8th September 1996. While trying to make their argument more convincing the report went on to say:”….The date was September 1996. Tupac apparently passed away in the nearby hospitals on the seventh day after the shooting, on September 13. One of the albums released after his death is called The 7 day theory. But the truth is 2 Pac died on the fifth day after he was shot. The reports further put more flesh on their skeletal argument. They said there was never a picture of Tupac in hospital. He did not have funeral. His body was reportedly cremated, just one day after his death. In songs he released before his death, he intimidated that he wished to be buried not cremated. There was no autopsy, although the state law in Nevada after a murder. Cynics suggest that for him to have been buried or to have had an autopsy there would have had to be a body, and there was none,” The Sowetan reported. If you further check this report said he was shot on the 7th whereas Tyson fought on the 8th and Tupac shot that same night. For a person who does not know or probe these kinds of reports will believe in the 7 day theory. In another view on the same report it is said that:''The first track to be released after the shooting, mysteriously called I aint mad at Cha, is the 13th track on his album of that time. In the video, Tupac is shown being shot as he leaves a theatre-remarkably similar scene to that of Las Vegas incident in which he was reportedly killed. Later in the same video he’s shown as an angel in heaven.” All these make one to believe whole-heartedly that Tupac is still alive and kicking. They further went on to talk about the man who released Tupac’s music after death as Simon and Simon is referred as the first person to witness the resurrection of Jesus; Hail Mary, White Man’s World where his lyrics says; ''We aint gonna walk off this planet unless you chose to”. The songs add more add more confusion in the young minds. There are many tracks which have relevance to his death but the most convincing of them all is Aint Hard To Find where his lines says: “I heard rumours I died, mudered in cold blood, but that was fiction”. And in Scarface’s video of the song Smile, Tupac is shown being crucified, remember that Jesus Christ resurrected that is what many people believe Tupac did. But his mother in one interview said categorically clear that her son is dead and you could feel it that she was feeling the loss by mere looking at her face, though she thanked him for having made millions for her. Some were saying the guy who works for a shop that sells baggy clothes in Carlton Centre is Tupac. This is the man I heard about in the late nineties and I once visited the shop he worked for in 1998, but to my disappointment he was not like Tupac if one knows 2 Pac. Be told, people can say anything and everything to convince people with the aim of proving their point or theory as correct. Tupac’s mum says she keeps in her house the ashes of his cremation which was reported to be coming to Soweto the past years. But at the end of the day is up to a person to believe whatever s/he wants to believe in. Mara 2Pac u bodile!( But 2 Pac died) You will never see him except in the videos which are manipulated by the American technologists who want to advance their money making schemes. Maeno will never be convinced that 2 Pac is alive and kicking but, instead, he is dead and cremated. If you have an argument about this issue advance it to the following e-mail address: enockds@gmail.com I will publish your argument if it defies mine…if you are of my points you can still comment and your comment will be published as well. Till Next Time!
One of the people who inspired me with their words in the early nineties is 2 Pac Amaru Shakur. I listened to his music with passion and read his poems with love from the heart. I used to follow his controversial stories as a gangster. The month September always comes with a hell lot of stories that I always wish to tell. I was born on the 9th of this month some decades ago. And on th
e 10th one of my sisters was delivered into this world as well. But on the 11th of September America’s World Trade Centre and the Pentagon were reduced into debris by what America refers as terrorists. This is the story that took the world by storm and kept debate flowing globally. On the 12th of September 1977 in South Africa Steven Biko lost his soul in the hands of the apartheid security who enjoyed seeing black people dying and suffering under the notorious laws of apartheid. On the 13th of September 1996, Las Vegas, Nevada in the United States of America and the world was in the deep silence when a great man for hip-hop or should I call him the King of Rap Music- whatever it may be-but this is the day a man, whose words inspired me to take a pen and paper to write poetry, died. “Tupac Shakur died in what most believed to be ‘Rappers against Rappers….West Coast and East Coast Violence.” To be as the crow flies, today I want to dedicate few words to the man who helped me to love words though I was not a man of many words by then. I will remind people about his life story and some of the lyrics that shocked the world, his gangster lifestyle, his upbringing and life after death. I have tried to do research to give you a well balanced analysis and deliver a very good story line. But also remember that this month in South Africa is a heritage month...!
HIS BIOGRAPHY
e 10th one of my sisters was delivered into this world as well. But on the 11th of September America’s World Trade Centre and the Pentagon were reduced into debris by what America refers as terrorists. This is the story that took the world by storm and kept debate flowing globally. On the 12th of September 1977 in South Africa Steven Biko lost his soul in the hands of the apartheid security who enjoyed seeing black people dying and suffering under the notorious laws of apartheid. On the 13th of September 1996, Las Vegas, Nevada in the United States of America and the world was in the deep silence when a great man for hip-hop or should I call him the King of Rap Music- whatever it may be-but this is the day a man, whose words inspired me to take a pen and paper to write poetry, died. “Tupac Shakur died in what most believed to be ‘Rappers against Rappers….West Coast and East Coast Violence.” To be as the crow flies, today I want to dedicate few words to the man who helped me to love words though I was not a man of many words by then. I will remind people about his life story and some of the lyrics that shocked the world, his gangster lifestyle, his upbringing and life after death. I have tried to do research to give you a well balanced analysis and deliver a very good story line. But also remember that this month in South Africa is a heritage month...!HIS BIOGRAPHY
Tupac Amaru Shakur was born on the 16th of June 1971, New York City in the USA. The 16th of June, remember, is a Youth Day in South Africa. The parents of Tupac were said to be the members of the Black Panther. His mum, Afeni Shakur, was pregnant with HIM when she got arrested for the demonstrations in New York City. 2 Pac attended the Baltimore School of Arts as a teen, but later moved to Marin City, Carlifornia. While there he lived mostly on streets. By chance he got a breakthrough when he appeared briefly as part of the group called Digital Underground. Since then he never stopped he released his debut album 2Paclypse Now. The album I used to enjoy so much. He was attacked, for his explicit lyrics, by the state organs. I Get Around came out in 1993 and achieved a platinum standard. In the album there were some brilliant tracks such as Strictly For My N.I.G.G.A.Z. ‘Last Words-‘ ‘United we stand, divided we fall, they can shoot one nigga, but they can’t shoot us all”. His acting also flourished. He appeared in the movies such as Juice, Poetic Justice, Above The Rim, Bullet; Gridlocke’d but was removed from Menance Society II for the jail sentence in 1994. He was short but survived in 1994 in New York Times Square. This shooting is the one that led to the West Coast/East Coast grudges because Tupac accused Notorious BIG and Sean ‘Pufff Daddy’ Combs of knowing something about the shooting in question. He was arrested for sexual assault charges and sentenced to four and half year in jail. While in jail his “Me Against The World” and “All Eyes on me” were released. They did very well and topped the charts in the US and other parts of the world including South Africa. Surge Knight, the president of Death Row Records arranged parole for Tupac and it was granted to him in eight months or so. On the eight of September, a day before I celebrated my birthday in the rural village of Jimmy Jones where I come from, he was shot after watching Mike Tyson vs Bruce Seldom and five days later his body and soul went separate ways. It was different from other big people who die mysteriously; there were a lot of explanations and theories why he died. One theory was that because he had slept with Faith Evans who was Notorious BIG’s wife. This led to more hatred between the west coast and the east coast. BIG was shot dead six month later and Orlando Anderson, the main suspect of 2Pac’s death was shot dead also in May 1998. But Tupac like Mantshwa Bemuda, the powerful musician from South Africa, released albums after death. When 2 Pac bite the dust was 25 years of age still young and with many dreams to achieve. Many people usually say “He lived and Died By The Gun”
THE VIEWS ON 2 PAC, A CONTROVERSIAL MAN!
Q: Is 2 Pac dead or alive?
A: The question seeks a lot of thinking. But I think Tupac is dead though there are so many reports which can convince young stars that he is still kicking and making music and money.
Q: Which reports do you think confuse young stars?
A: Such as the one that appeared on the Sowetan few years back. They reported on the five videos by Tupac and others that featured him. “The album released after Tupac contained, on the sleeve, the words: Exit Tupac, Enter Machiavelli., “American reporters allege Makaveli is the rap star’s spelling... belonging to a 16th century Italian philosopher, Machiavelli,” reported by the Sowetan. The investigation went on to say that “This great thinker is popular and is also known in history because he recommended that people fake their death in order to evade one’s enemies and gain power. It is…documented that 2Pac was tired of ….’gangster wars’ which dominated the USA….” So if you can check this view it seems to be credible though it is not. When young people come across these kinds of reports they get confused and think it is true without any proper understanding of the motives of these kinds of reports. I nearly got into the same kind of a trap as a teen but later realized that I had to dig deeper into the main purpose by doing a research which proved most of the theories wrong. So the youth should not be led astray or misled by reports of this kind. The reporters of this particular newspaper mentioned that Tupac left Mike Tyson’s fight in Las Vegas on 7th September 1996 whereas it was on the 8th September 1996. While trying to make their argument more convincing the report went on to say:”….The date was September 1996. Tupac apparently passed away in the nearby hospitals on the seventh day after the shooting, on September 13. One of the albums released after his death is called The 7 day theory. But the truth is 2 Pac died on the fifth day after he was shot. The reports further put more flesh on their skeletal argument. They said there was never a picture of Tupac in hospital. He did not have funeral. His body was reportedly cremated, just one day after his death. In songs he released before his death, he intimidated that he wished to be buried not cremated. There was no autopsy, although the state law in Nevada after a murder. Cynics suggest that for him to have been buried or to have had an autopsy there would have had to be a body, and there was none,” The Sowetan reported. If you further check this report said he was shot on the 7th whereas Tyson fought on the 8th and Tupac shot that same night. For a person who does not know or probe these kinds of reports will believe in the 7 day theory. In another view on the same report it is said that:''The first track to be released after the shooting, mysteriously called I aint mad at Cha, is the 13th track on his album of that time. In the video, Tupac is shown being shot as he leaves a theatre-remarkably similar scene to that of Las Vegas incident in which he was reportedly killed. Later in the same video he’s shown as an angel in heaven.” All these make one to believe whole-heartedly that Tupac is still alive and kicking. They further went on to talk about the man who released Tupac’s music after death as Simon and Simon is referred as the first person to witness the resurrection of Jesus; Hail Mary, White Man’s World where his lyrics says; ''We aint gonna walk off this planet unless you chose to”. The songs add more add more confusion in the young minds. There are many tracks which have relevance to his death but the most convincing of them all is Aint Hard To Find where his lines says: “I heard rumours I died, mudered in cold blood, but that was fiction”. And in Scarface’s video of the song Smile, Tupac is shown being crucified, remember that Jesus Christ resurrected that is what many people believe Tupac did. But his mother in one interview said categorically clear that her son is dead and you could feel it that she was feeling the loss by mere looking at her face, though she thanked him for having made millions for her. Some were saying the guy who works for a shop that sells baggy clothes in Carlton Centre is Tupac. This is the man I heard about in the late nineties and I once visited the shop he worked for in 1998, but to my disappointment he was not like Tupac if one knows 2 Pac. Be told, people can say anything and everything to convince people with the aim of proving their point or theory as correct. Tupac’s mum says she keeps in her house the ashes of his cremation which was reported to be coming to Soweto the past years. But at the end of the day is up to a person to believe whatever s/he wants to believe in. Mara 2Pac u bodile!( But 2 Pac died) You will never see him except in the videos which are manipulated by the American technologists who want to advance their money making schemes. Maeno will never be convinced that 2 Pac is alive and kicking but, instead, he is dead and cremated. If you have an argument about this issue advance it to the following e-mail address: enockds@gmail.com I will publish your argument if it defies mine…if you are of my points you can still comment and your comment will be published as well. Till Next Time!
Thursday, July 5, 2007
POLICY CONFERENCE UNFAIR FOR TEACHERS
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.
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
BIOGRAPHIES OF THE POETS
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/
"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
EQINISWENI POETRY SOCIETY PRESENTS GHETTO POETRY
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
Corruptin'
Each other
With
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
Entleik,
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
But…
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
Oops!
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
Holla?
Heita da ?
Howzit?
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
Azisaspani
'Tsotsi Taal'
That's the way
The way of life in rainbow ghetto township
CONTRIBUTORS: MR. SHISHENGE, THAPELO, PLEASURE, PHINDILE, PATIENCE, EMMY, VELLY, SIMON, MBEKEZELI, SFISO, NKATEKO, AND KABELO.
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
Corruptin'
Each other
With
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
Entleik,
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
But…
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
Oops!
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
Holla?
Heita da ?
Howzit?
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
Azisaspani
'Tsotsi Taal'
That's the way
The way of life in rainbow ghetto township
CONTRIBUTORS: MR. SHISHENGE, THAPELO, PLEASURE, PHINDILE, PATIENCE, EMMY, VELLY, SIMON, MBEKEZELI, SFISO, NKATEKO, AND KABELO.
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)
Prostitute
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
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
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