Sweet Bitter Disaster

A friend (once granted short-term benefits) has made me an offer I chose not to resist. I am indeed very grateful for it. It was a wonderful gesture for our friendship and, believe it or not, an affirmation to my worthiness.

It was also a test of sort, encapsulating a number of questions about my own personal beliefs and values. To be honest, some of the questions existed only because of the “once granted benefits”, which nearly costed us our friendship, alas indirectly. The actual cause was a single episode I term “la koloba”; taken from a Sesotho expression “a le nyaea la koloba”, which means to be lost for words.

Because of this episode, I nearly severed our entire relationship (not just the benefits). However, it wasn’t because I was blameless. I just couldn’t accept the convenience of words momentarily disappearing, given that I had continued to possess them in a situation that clearly called for my protection. In ghetto terms, the situation required for him specifically (as a friend or “benefactor”) to have my back! The details themselves were not at all relevant; it was about “seeing the forest for the trees” situation. Seeing that inaction, in whatever form, amounted to being rejected (not just at a conceptual level, but at the core of my existence).

With the above said, if I were to poetically describe the “la koloba” episode to capture the broad context of what had happened and what happened, I would put it as follows:

He was cowardly and I was feisty.
But this didn’t spell a disaster.
Our backgrounds or timing did.

We perhaps lacked the maturity to see this fact.
Or, we were untrue with ourselves to see the brewing disaster:
Gratifyingly sweet for the body and mind in the shared private moments;
Plainly and crudely bitter for the soul under the watchful eyes of the public.

Musical prelude, it is happening … there is no going back.
We have stepped in the abyss of the movie of our own making.
The cowardly soul yearns to be engulfed in a silky world filled with self.
The feisty soul yearns to be shielded without the silky frills of vanity.

A bruised butterfly in the abyss, seeking the protection of a cocooning soul,
What a truly sweet and bitter disaster!


Sometimes I express myself in silence and through observation.
Other times I express myself through laughter and dance.
And the rest of the time I express myself gladly in words.

Yet words have proven to be unreliable and unfaithful to thee:
They flatter and condemn even when my intentions are pure;
They delight and confuse even when my mind is filled with clarity;
They heal and injure even when I purposefully leave them unspoken in my heart.

Words, you are a double-edged sword that tantalises and taunts my existence.
You are a lifetime friend and foe that truly defines my essence.
So, I will never turn my back on you – the colourful ink of my soul.
For you give life and spirit to the (im)potency of my expression.

Simply Acoustical Delight

Yesterday I went to see two performances: Simply Blue and Acoustic Soul. Both but in different ways qualified as music to my ears.

Simply Blue is a group comprising of 12 boys from Bishops College, Cape Town. There were fairly good though I felt they were a bit under-rehearsed. I loved their repertoire. However, I didn’t love the fact that each time they didn’t know what to do with their hands they thought putting them in their pockets was the coolest thing to do. I imagine that is possibly cool but I am from that generation where such behavior would have been discouraged by sewing together their pockets …finish and klaar!

After the Simply Blue performance which was good enough to end anyone’s blues, I went to see Acoustic Soul. They were excellent! I went there specifically to see Injairu perform. Seeing her was like watching a woman who has found her voice and her calling in life. She looked ultra beautiful and confident on stage. It really seemed like she had gotten her answer about her calling by having a face-to-face conversation with “Mmopi, Mmoloki, eena ea kalletseng maru”; I am talking about the one and only Alpha and Omega called by which ever name you are comfortable with.

Injairu rocked so did each member of that group. I am merely putting emphasis on her because I was filled with so much pride seeing her perform. I guess to me she was like a flower at spring time blossoming for the first time; in my eyes she ceased being just the baby of the Kulundu’s family.

That said, the entire Acoustic Soul performance was very soulful. I left there feeling a bit poetic and without any doubt whatsoever that a higher being exists though it may be understood differently by different souls.