Letters and Poems

Xenophobic Regret

The piece I wrote with regret....

I can still hear myself shouting, singing,
I can still hear myself sayin 'f*ckof, This is not your home'
All I thought was, 'we just are threatening them' until...
Until I saw objects being thrown at him..
Until I saw him being kicked everywhere..
Until I saw blood running out of his nose, ears, eyes, arms, legs
Then reality hit me and I began to realise...
This is not a threat, but inhumanity

I backed off trying to gather all this ...don't even know what to call it
I saw him lying down; I saw his eyes wide open, yet closed and crying blood
I heard his voice crying 'No please, I'm sorry'
I felt his heart sayin 'please tell them to stop'
I felt a tear burning my heart and I couldn't do anything ..Or that's what I thought

If I stop them, they'll be on me
They'll be crucifying me together with him
Now...now I wish they did, and this regret won't be there
The guy who use to do my garden, shoes, hair was being killed
If only I........If only I fought as an African,
If only I stopped the petrol from .. from reaching his African soul,
Then things would be different
I saw the guy next to me making a flame out of a stick
The stick that was thrown to the petrolled African
I saw the flame all over his bruised body, mouth still crying and heart saying
'Please tell them to stop'

I saw his entire family through his flame crying 'we loosing our only bread winner
We loosing our dad, we loosing our uncle, we loosing our teacher, we loosing our husband
We loosing our....we loosing our black brother

Please someone tell me how to forget this, how
to rewind things, how to bring him to live again
All I want is just to say....I'm sorry
I'm sorry I betrayed you as an African
I'm sorry I was not firm enough to stop it
I'm sorry for being influenced against you
I'm sorry for.....
I guess it's too late now.

____________________________________________________

Xenophobic Cry

The piece I wrote with a broken heart........

I might not be a South African

But I'm black, my skin is the same as yours My colour is the same as yours. My genes are African, nothing but African When your leaders were beaten by whites I was there to shelter them I was patient with them I offered them food, shelter, Most of all, I offered them protection.

I might be a South African

I can't speak Zulu, cause I'm MuVenda
I can't speak Zulu, cause I'm Shangaan
I don't know what an elbow is in Zulu
As much as you don't know it in my language Since when was Zulu the only South African language?
Yes I'm not from Gauteng
I was not born here, but I'm South African Where should I go if you beat
me I'm not beating your father, mother, brother or sister who works
at my area in the mines I'm not calling them makwerekwere though they can't speak my language.

I might be dark in complexion

I might have the foreigners looks
I might have the foreigners body structure Now I am scared to go to the only place that I call home I'm scared of working down the street
without my ID Whites wanted me to do that centuries ago Now you, my black brother is acting white

Why should you Black South Africans do this?

What makes you think that you better than me?
Who told you that I'm responsible for your unemployment?
Who told you that I'm less human 
I need to go back to Venda........let all the Zulus go back to KZN
Let all the Tswana's go back to Botswana Let all the Sotho's go back to Lesotho Let all the Ndebele's go back to Kwandebele Let all the Xhosa's go back to Eastern Cape Yes let all the Swati's go back to Swaziland

Is this not ignorance?

Your unemployment is your responsibility Use your intellect Get up and work Let education empower you Seek humanity

Before 1994 you blamed whites
Now you are blaming me
Who are you going to blame after chasing me away?
Who are you going to blame after killing me?

For what it's worth I'm sorry I was not born here
I'm sorry I can't speak Zulu
I'm sorry for being too dark for your Joburg I'm sorry for cleaning the
toilets you don't want to clean I'm sorry for doing your garden I'm
sorry for repairing your shoes I'm sorry for protecting your leaders
while they were in Exile Yes what you call Exile is my country And most of
all I'm sorry for building South African infrastructure

Please my brothers let there be peace and prosperity amongst black African people.

      Written by a Teary Black African ...............Deejay Busang