Once upon a time in...

Once upon a time, life was good. The beauty of the world surrounded us. The possibilities were endless. People envied us. We were the perfect example to the world. Once upon a time in 1994 a leader stood up with his fist in the air we cheered for him. He was a symbol of hope and of courage, a leader from the dust just like me and you. For the first time in our history we had arrived. We had arrived in the land that we called our own. We no longer walked with our heads down but we walked like kings and queen. The youth became princes and princesses. The future became so damn possible you could almost touch it reach it if you reached your hand. It was a better tomorrow that so many had died for.
Time passed, leaders came and went. Time attempted to heal the wounds that we left by the past but time failed, because once upon a time we had a leader. Our leader was a symbol and the world revered him but he left our wounds untended. Did we become who we are because of our wounds? A nation once filled with possibilities and now a restless one. A land once filled with proud kings and queens. Our leader held our fair share of the cake but never shared it with us.
Once upon a time we were denied our human right. The right to be and reclaim our land. To once again stand glorious with the ululations and songs of our people. To have dignity, where a man could now be sure that his children would be well of. But instead we were given unfulfilled promises, a hope of a better tomorrow and nearly 20 years later we still have nothing. Along the way came prophets speaking of black consciousness, speaking of how we were meant to rule. We believed in them but still devoted our loyalty to a man that was said to be the messiah of his people. Again and again we put X to mediocrity and corruptions of the dogs that hide behind the colourful shirts of our leader. We stood there and watched. We watched as more and more kids ended up in the streets. Stood and watched as widows were left without a roof over their heads. Is this the freedom that we fought for? To be left jobless with nothing to do but spread HIV/AIDS in our societies. To be thugs and mongrels that inflicts pain amongst ourselves. Then they politely state our situation as a STAT that fluctuated year in and year out.
As they sit and sip their expensive bottles of Irish poison they look down upon us with pity. We put them up there and they step on us with their toiler made Italian shoes. As the world watches we still say that once upon a time we had a leader. Today he lays down celebrated, a man’s man they call him. He devoted himself to his people they say but kids, women and men still don’t have a home to go to. You tell me did we really have a leader or is he who the oppressor decided for us?

By: Matt GP