If freedom was a man
He would be standing by a corner in Tembisa all day harassing women
Sitting on a 1.25 litre coca cola bottle buying los draw with his last money.
He would be whistling in the dark with his friends
Limping to the side in his old pair of Chuck Taylor’s about to smash and grab a laptop bag from a car at the robots.
He would be the kind of man that makes other men not want to come back to the township
And if he was a father
He would be an absent father.
The kind of father who cones home to his children whose names he has forgotten,
That father that knows not what grade his children are in or what they are eating for supper.
The kind of father who breathes rumors about his children’s mother.
He would be that father
That father that hasn’t come to see his child since birth
That father that ditches Utatakho when they come knocking at his door.
And if he was President
He’d take a million wives,
Fly to Dubai and make rich friends
He would be an absent leader and dab at events
He would make the nation laugh and carry with him scandals that have been publicized
He would be the kind of president that women protest when he speaks
But if freedom was a student,
He would flank all his tests and laugh about it all the time,
He would come to class reeking of alcohol ,
He would ditch class to have a joint and return with a great sense of humor.
He would be the cheese boi that drives the girls crazy,
He would impregnate two girls in the same month and deny the pregnancy 7 months later.
If freedom was a state of living
It would be poverty,
It would be last nights pap and onions for supper
It would be one second hand bed with 4 bodies of siblings
It would be drinking water from the polluted river
The use of one bucket toilet by 50 residents
And if freedom was a situation
It would be a panic attack
It would be a sudden spread of Ebola in an African country that supplies oil.
It would an introduction of US dollars in Africa.
Freedom would be that awkward moment after you got raped while your neighbor’s heard your screams and turned up the music.
Freedom would be bad breath on the morning bus to work.
But if freedom was a country
It would be in shackles
It would be that country that is tied to multinational corporation’s
That country with land that doesn’t belong to its people
That country fighting to be woke The kind if country that is silently separated by race.
That country that fights its battles on social media.
And if it was a story, It would climax from the beginning to the end.