When time works against us
and weighs at the heart
somewhere in a foreign land,
night turns to day, and
the fashion in shop windows
I pass on my way from work
into djellabas, the smell
of restaurants into kuskus
on a market day,
hands all out, stretched
to acknowledge this gift,
walking in the shadow
of African women, men,
with their fear of anchored boats
on coastal fronts. History
in the present. On
a young night that is day
I go inland where spear battles musket,
and I join in the fight on the river
that filled with blood, our phagocyte
impi sieging their laager in anger.
On the metro of the morning,
Le Monde in my hands and
work on my mind, there’s always
a part of Africa that yearns
for me, for my presence, my flesh,
beyond the chatter of the train
needling underneath the capital
into the reconciliation of our lifetime,
before the evening of my days.
© Rethabile Masilo

Related links:
– Encounter South Africa
– Andries Pretorius
– Dingaan kaSenzangakhona