Makhafula Vilakazi is not an actor. He knows exactly who he is talking from. He lets him speak through him for the benefit of our getting to know more of who we are by getting to know this person.

I have never come across a phenomenon that is as all-consuming, behemothic and pulverising as whiteness. Whiteness doesn't just reduce Black people to hallow entities that epitomise dizziness, emptiness, absence, invisibility and nothingness.

It’s a mammoth task for the most gifted of wordsmiths; that means that it would be virtually impossible for me. How does one contextualise a force so great that it made its greatest contribution to a movement that ensured my ability to become a contributing member of society? How does one encapsulate the complexity of a personality so large that it has solely guided an entire movement and influenced history? How to include her work as a social worker, wife, mother, struggle icon, anti-apartheid activist, murder-accused and prisoner 1323/69?

Nothing best expresses the totalising-all-consuming-debilitating power of whiteness than the psychosis wherein statements by Blacks such as “we want our land back| or “we must build Black power”- makes some Black people so nervous that they sometimes slide into self-induced depression (on behalf of the whites they know or love).

Yesterday we celebrated the birth of a God, Bantu Biko who gave back to us what had been stolen through political miseducation, depoliticization and through religions fanaticism. He gave back to us, the most potent weapon in the hand of the oppressor, our mind.

I watched a white farmer celebrated on national television last week by the minister of Rural Develoment and Land Reform Mr Gugile Nkwinti. Why? Well, he gave 50% shareholding to the farm workers. In his interview, feeling elated, the white farmer said, "The Answer Is 50/50”.

Complete denial. (Often as a defense mechanism when the word privilege is brought up) People completely deny the existence of one of the most important societal structures today. Acknowledging that privilege exists is the stepping stone to tackling and dismantling the concept.

As it does every year, Heritage Day came and went. Traditional (South) African outfits and food flooded my timelines as it does every year. Everyone was “united” in their little middle-class bubbles as they usually are. Headwraps and champagne seem to make a wonderful combination, especially when matched to a designer bag or two. I will not even talk about the fictitious joke that is “Braai Day”.