I buried the last one who was here, who sounded like you, in my backyard. He didn’t stand a chance. I punished him for not being absent. He dismantled me. And, the deep unconditional love I never reciprocated is embedded in me as lifetime guilt.
Black of skin and relegated to so-called dusty streets: these are the people for which Makhafula Vilakazi has written and spoken. The inhibitors of townships streets: walking long miles while merciless rains seep into the holes on the shoes barely covering their feet.