From bussling markets to mosquito-filled wilderness areas.
Where will this continent be in the future?
The electricity keeps cutting, the mosquitoes keep stinging & the matatu exhaust pipes keep gushing carbon monoxide fumes.
The ethnic genocides keep happening & the xenophobia keeps discriminating.
Everybody wants to be famous but fame is not wealth & in this land wealth isn't easy.
The troops of malnourished kids thrown aimlessly on paved & unpaved streets.
The Ubuntuist Utopia, if only it had a bit more capitalist indigenous folk & less communists.
I'm no pessimist but some of you give me little hope in a better time in future.
You reap what you sow & you will definetly reap the hate you sowed.
Who am I? To me, I am but a shadow in an unknown town but who am I to you?
I should mean nothing to you but politics allows me to be on equal footing as the famous.
What did I tell you about fame? It is the cheapest thing in the world but somehow every vain hairstyle wants it.
They ask you "Is fame what you want?" & I tell them "No."
For, again, there is a big difference between music & fame.
While music gets you fame, the fame is not the music.
I straddle between ancient arts & pop culture, gravitating to the former but living in the latter.
You're too late, I just went past that.
Your people are not mine.
Only time will tell & I am of no fault or blame.
I simply watched the story unfold.
The man from Mbango lived for the music & left when it stopped.
He is neither yours or their's.
Who are these people to judge?
Only the rains & the sun will judge.
I am no different from an ant.
And you, no different to a cockroach.
I will be in my universe when the party starts in 1420 AD.
I'll see you when I knock on your door.
If I don't, you will only feel me as the winds & I will only remain a shadow in your mind.
Even a jester drinks water.
Mthoko M. Mpofana
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