I Am African 1

 

    I am told to sit, I sit. Then, again, I am ordered to stand and I do. My life is one without freedom. I only do what I am told. In fact, if this white man realizes that I am even thinking, without his orders, my already torn back will peel off and probably be used in place of cow hyde or as leather to make new boots for his lady love. So, you see, I do not have a life or, would you call this living? Ehn?

Its not my fault that I was born black. No! But, right now, I am beginning to feel like its all my fault. There were many options from which I could have chosen from at birth. I could have found a reason to die in mama's womb. I could have also not even allowed myself to be born. You see, I could have transported myself to a white woman's womb and boom, I would have come out a white child. But, I didn't and here I am, a slave to Mr Rock Willies. I do not still know how to pronounce the Willies in his name so, I call him Master to save myself from the rod that would greet my back if I dared called his name wrongly.

You see, to be black is a sin! A curse! I hear them speak sometimes and though I understand nothing they say because they talk as if water is in their mouth. I should try it someday when I go to the store to collect some things from Gugulethu. I would sound like them. I know however with the way master looks at me when he talks with his friend that I look like something the earth rejected...