“Not only is there cultural segregation but there is also a ‘hereditary-esque’ crab mentality that is prevalent amongst black people.”
UNWELCOME TO THE HOOD
In almost every hood related conversation that I have with friends and close acquaintances alike, I always allude to ikasi as amaze; phecelezi, a real life Hunger Games. I view the hood as a maze because it’s uncommonly hard to get out of such an environment. Though not one to take part in political discourse every so often, I will admit that the apartheid regime did a foolproof number on black people.
If you’re a steadfast observer, you’d notice that Soweto, Tembisa, Alexandra, Daveyton, Katlehong, Sebokeng and other Kasis have ethnic-specific sections within their architectural designs. The aforementioned champion the fundamentals of the ‘Divide and Conquer’ theory. Not only is there cultural segregation but there is also a ‘hereditary-esque’ crab mentality that is prevalent amongst black people.
It doesn’t matter what career or hustle you’re pushing, darkies are always ready to pull the rug from under your feet and use your downfall as a stepping stone to fulfil their own endeavours. If you’re a job hunter, chances are you’ve received a raw deal from your own kind while dropping off your CV, whether at a retail store, corporate office or industrial firm. It is almost certain that you’re likely to receive a warm welcome from a Caucasian than a Black person; the second you set foot at their workplace, their ‘Ufunani Lo La?’ genocidal sensors are triggered.
BUSINESS UNUSUAL IN THIS PLACE
Ekasi khona it’s worse, a lot of people that attempt to start a business are faced with the inevitable possibility of dealing with the ‘sifuna ukubona ukuthi uzophelelaphi’ committee. Labantu bazok’ “red taper” tot Piet kom! They withhold information about who to talk to, if say, one is looking to utilise a certain location for recreational or business hub purposes; bazok’ tshela ngo s’ban’ ban’ that once tried but failed at securing the spot you’re inquiring about…so Wena uwubani? Just quit before you start, because ukuvuka kwakho is something that would torment them in both their conscious and convalescent state.
We see it at grocery stores all the time too, the rude melanin cashier giving you attitude but dare a white person transact before/ after you; the mood switches up and a beamy smile from the cashier suddenly appears, a pitiful sight to witness! Sibulalana Sodwa, in many ways!
Now let me get personal…
Segueing into a tragic event that took place on Heritage Day, but before I delve into the story, let me first begin by highlighting the plague that is eating away at the marginalised majority of black people; DRUGS! I don’t want to be labelled a conspiracy theorist but history has it well documented that drugs were created to destroy the credibility and potential come up of the black child; similar to what J. Edgar Hoover did to destroy the Black Panther Revolutionary Collective .
In the United States, back in the 80s, Ronald Reagan was the US president and it is not a coincidence that he masqueraded as an anti-drug hero amid the scourge of heroine and cocaine use amongst black people. La eMzansi, we’re facing what is probably facing the worst era of drug and substance abuse ever recorded in the storied history of this nation; specifically amongst black people. Nyaope, Crystal Meth, iNtashi, etc; are prevailing.
A lot of us darkies, know of at least one person who’s a drug addict. Families have been torn inside out because of drugs, little is done to curb the illicit use of these substances. Drug Awareness Campaigns (if any) tend to be a spur of the moment thing, then it’s back to regular programming; until something atrocious happens…
SERGIO, MY BROTHER.
On the 24th of September 2021, a lot of people were hosting events varying from weddings, braais, outdoor recreational activities and such; while others were tirelessly working at their respective grinds. A close friend of mine by the name of Sergio, a Mozambican native whom I had come to embrace as a brother was stabbed to death while making his way back from his hustle as a welder. This terrible misfortune took place in a dark alley, a few minutes away from where Sergio lived.
Being familiar with this place which is a short walking distance from where I live, I’ve noticed that it is a hotspot for petty crime perpetrators; mostly of which are drug addicts who I see passing by my home every second of each day, sometimes, I even hear them conversing at odd hours of the night, while passing by. I live on one of the busiest main roads in Vosloorus (Marimba Gardens) and these drug addicts don’t seem to have a wink of sleep, always on the prowl for their next prey.
I write this with a heavy heart because Sergio’s death has made me realise that Black on Black Genocide is a real thing, whether it’s stifling growth opportunities or violent crime committing, the ones who bear the brunt of it all are mostly Black People.
In closing I’d like to quote an astute gent by the name of Xolani ‘Ntwana eBlind’ Tshezi: “Mawuthola iChance, Phuma eKasi”❗
*This piece is dedicated to the memory of my Friend and Brother, Sergio. Lala Ngoxolo Broer Wam’🙏🏽
Writer: Tebogo Kawawa
This is a well written piece.I enjoyed it.An eye opener.Dankie!!