Is mob justice a solution?

While my heart goes out to the families of the young men that were recently set ablaze in Khayelitsha for allegedly committing crime, I somehow understand the frustration that led to these fateful incidents. Being a victim of crime myself, I know what it does to one’s emotional state.

I have been mugged for quite a number of times and most recently, I was victim to fraud where my entire salary was stolen from me. I will be utterly honest, driven by anger and hurt, I did wish death upon my perpetrators, that’s only natural. Those thoughts were always discarded by the realisation that the death of the criminal will not really reverse the damage done nor will it put an end to crime.

Naturally, the first question that came to my mind when I heard about the incident was “is this a solution?” Will setting fire to the guy bring back the stolen goods, mend the broken heart of the victim and ensure an end to crime?

As it seems, I may be one of the very few people who think setting fire to criminals is no help. This past Saturday I almost got into hot water with taxi commuters when I tried sharing my sentiments on this matter. All I said is that as much as criminals do not have a right to harm us, we also do not have the right to kill, as per the instructions of both our law and religions. This was the biggest mistake of my life! If it was not for the lack of a flammable substance nearby, I would probably be ashes right now. 

One girl came up with a strong point though. She said the police are not doing a good job in combating crime so people are resorting to alternative solutions. I believe this is correct. However, my view is that our community is already plagued with so much violence and chaos. I feel using death and fire as means of remedying the situation is actually worsening it.

There are only so much criminals that we can kill, but what we can’t destroy is the source of this evil, which is poverty. That’s the sad truth…

We are what we do

# Born to dysfunctional family, an alcoholic for a father and a drug addict for a mother, I am a prostitute living on the streets. We are what we do.

# They retrenched me at work, the bank repossessed my house. I sold my car and went back to my mother’s house, at the age of 42. We are what we do.

# A lot of people had warned me about him, they said he’s bad for me. I listened to my heart and now I’m fighting for my life in ICU. This is a result of my silence; I kept quiet while he continued abusing me physically. We are what we do.

# I had based my entire existence on our relationship. I lived for him and my whole being revolved around him. One day I found him in bed with the girl from next door. I died, at least not physically, but mentally. As I write this, I am held captive in a mental institution. We are what we do.

Sometimes, our grief is not a result of our choice, but the choices made by those around us

Boys will be boys

Okay, since I'm not really a "normal" boy, I think I have a write to put up this post:

We’ve all heard the saying “boys will be boys.” Ever wondered what this is based on? I think I read somewhere that women are generally smarter than men. I don’t know how much truth is in that claim, but deriving from my observations of the two sexes, I somehow believe it.

I can’t think of any girl who draws pride from the number of men she’s bedded, something I can’t really say about my fellow brothers. Trust me, I’ve met a lot. I think that has a lot with the fact that they’re not very shy about publicising such information. That alone says a lot about the differences in IQ levels between the male and the female species.

Listening to a conversation between  guys is always such a stunning experience. The subjects of the conversations range from fast cars, big penises (yes) and, my personal favourite, how they are the masters of cheating on their girlfriends. I always listen in awe hoping to hear “I’m just joking” at the end of each sentence they utter. Instead those sentences are accompanied with self appraisals and words of encouragement from the audience, who happen to have gone through similar experiences.

It rather arouses my interest how they manage to sexualise everything. Like, “Dude, if I was as rich and famous as Usher, I would sleep with any girl I want.” or “that guy must be getting the hottest action in bed since he’s dating that fine chick.” Being succesful and being in a relationship is what the rest of us ultimately wish for, but for some guys its all about the sexual opportunities involved in it.

Casual Sex: An unattached string of immorality

I discovered casual sex’s shocking existence, back in the day, during my internet dating days. Yes, I did try that, don’t judge. It’s really not as cheesy as everyone makes it out to be.

I think sex should be a form of intimacy only shared between two
people who trully love each other

On my search for a perfect better half, I would come across announcements such as: “26 years old black male from Cape Town looking for casual fun with no strings attached.”  Later I would learn that “casual fun” is actually meaningless sex and no strings attached refers to no feelings or emotions involved. Much later these discoveries shooed me away from trying to find love on the internet.

I must have been foolish to think casual sex was only initiated online, which I had already jotted that down as one of the destructive effects of the internet.

I realised that casual sex was much more prominent on our much loved socialising spots like night clubs and the likes. Why did I not think about it? People do all sorts of ludicrous things under the influence of alcohol than when they are online.

As I started exploring life more, casual sex formed part of everyday living. One night stands, hook-ups, sexual favours and friends with benefits all became uncomfortably familiar. However, I struggled and still do, to come into terms with how everyone treated this as the most normal thing on earth.

I grew up believing that sex is a form of intimacy that can be shared only when love is involved. For that reason, I can’t begin to understand how two strangers with no romantic relation can ever be able to have sex. Not only do I feel engaging in casual sex immoral, it is also very irresponsible, stupid and even reflects a staggering amount of self disrespect. I don’t think by now I even need to highlight its role on the spread of HIV/AIDS.

if people still regard putting themselves in the dangers of HIV and unwanted preganancies as "fun", we still have a long way till the end of our problems.

We are afraid of the wrong things...

Really, are we?

How do you begin defining and assessing the meaning of the word “wrong” when, like me, you live in a country whose leaders have no clue of what it is? In a country where wrong is justified by traditional customs; where adultery and promiscuity can be redefined as polygamy.

How do you sift the wrong from the right when the majority of you co-inhabitants choose to make a leader out of a man who might be misinformed on one of the country’s most horrifying pandemics? The one that regards taking a shower as a safety measure?

Do Wrong Right

Emotional roller coaster

 

Midst of the night, sweat glides down my forehead.

Closely followed by a similar salty fluid; the kind produced from my eyes.

A salty mixture of fluids dampening my pillow – a product of my hodgepodge of thoughts.

 I toss, I turn and I try hard to sink into unconsciousness.

“Darkness engulf me”

I call out to the night, numb to the painful truth that it has long fallen on me.

“Dawn on me”

I resort to that and an abrupt smile appears on my face.

The realisation of the dawn overwhelms me.

Rays of light fighting for habitation through the window grant me assurance.

They promise me that all is soon to be well.

High to the ranks of hope, I am lifted

“Sun, I am your child today.”

Fish falling from the sky



The recession might have affected our economy in more ways than one, but it has not been all doom and gloom. If you look at it from a more positive angle, it has given us an opportunity to look for more…erm…innovative and modern ways of earning a living. Very fascinating professions have been developed; some people are gaining fame and fortune from “trend forecasting” (You just gotta love Dion Chang!). We even have “public protectors”, aren’t we just blessed to have Thuli Modonsela?

My personal favourite has to be the “Gold Diggers”! No, I’m not referring to the muscular and sweaty men [drools] in helmets working hard in the mine, that’s soooo ancient. The modern gold digger is young and pretty with boobs the size of a water melon and a pea sized brain.

Her gold digging strategy is simple; she finds a saggy but VERY rich boyfriend that’s undergoing a mid-life crisis at a much later stage of his life. She then manipulates him into thinking he is 16 years old again. While the poor old man enjoys the attention of being seen with a pretty young thing and forgets about his wrinkles, she goes for his finances. In return for sexual favours and maybe a kid, the old man has to finance her ridiculously extravagant ways of living. Think Khanyi Mbau and Primrose Crous.

While the rest of us have to go all the way to the stream struggling to carry our fishing gear, these girls just flutter their lashes and pout and voila! Their fish falls on their perfectly manicured hands right from the sky!



The self proclaimed "Queen of Bling", Khanyi Mbau with one of her former, Sugar Daddies, or erm "boyfriends, as she chooses to call them.



Don’t be fooled and think gold digging is not hard work though. To make it in this throat cutting industry, you have to look your best all the time and that means fake boobs, fake hair, fake lashes, fake nails and a fake personality. I guess the only way of escaping the reality of sleeping with an old wrinkled man is to remain fake. The job sure comes with some pretty cool perks though; flashy cars, designer clothes and unlimited media coverage!

I DEMAND respect for my individuality!

I demand respect for my individuality!

I am astonishingly fond of my community. Really, I love Khayelitsha with all my heart; it’s my home. However, despite having spent the entire 23 years of my life there, I still feel odd, almost like I do not belong there. My way of doing things is questioned every day. My posture is laughed at and my preferences are frowned upon. Basically I am not accepted nor am I respected.

Quite frankly, I am not bothered by the acceptance part. However the lack of respect for my choices in this community really makes my blood boil. I speak on behalf of my brothers and sisters who love on the same sex, my friends living with albinism and my neighbours from other African countries. I even stand for our Rastafarian populace and all the other groups that are regarded as minor because they do not roll with the societal norms.  

We are tired of having to explain ourselves and what we stand for. I say “we” because I know with utmost certainty that I am not alone in this struggle, many other people from the groups I have mentioned fight a continuous battle for acceptance or at least respect. We are subject to countless unfound stereotypes that result in gay bashing, xenophobic attacks, public mockery and, in worst case scenarios, murder. All of this because we are different from the rest.

This needs to come to an end! We do not want to be celebrated; all we plead for is respect. A bit of tolerance would not hurt either. Beyond the way we look, our beliefs and our sexual orientation, there are emotions. The cruelty we face everyday does a lot of damage on our wellbeing. So before you voice your hateful remarks next time put that in consideration