…As I grew older, my relationship with art took a dip. Distracted by the circumstances that came with the transition into adulthood, I ended up neglecting my soul’s favourite food. This went on for a long time;it was a strange and unexplainable period of silence and dormancy. Fortunately, this period eventually passed, and my passion for art returned. I found myself attending poetry sessions, exhibitions, book launches, theatre productions and other spaces of expression once again. Most importantly, I went back to expressing myself.
Youth Day is approaching.
South Africa is buzzing with activity as individuals and organisations prepare to launch the youth focused content and events they have planned for months.
As a content producer, I want to be a part of this national story. My voice wants to be heard along with everybody else that is making an effort to produce something special for Youth Day. I too want to be a part of this narrative and celebrate.
I remember a time when I didn’t regard myself or others as beautiful or ugly; I was simply Busi and they were simply people. Those were the perks of childhood; looking at the world through the untainted glasses of innocence and purity. Unfortunately growth took over and I was introduced to the world’s concept of physical beauty, which in turn led to the discovery of my “ugly”.
According to my family, I was one of those brats that took advantage of my privilege to cry when I was a baby. You know the type of baby that cries so much that you find yourself exploring the dark realms of your mind,plotting torturous methods that will silence him or her? I was that baby.
The recent tragic shooting that took place at the Charleston Church in South Carolina, USA, made me reflect on a tragic incident that took place in my own country. I looked at this white boy that had taken the lives of those nine innocent black people and thought: Black South Africans that support attacks on black immigrants are no different from this gunman.
The two incidents are not related, but I felt it necessary to take you through the short thought process that led to me writing this piece.
A couple of friends and I recently got together for dinner to bid farewell to one of our own. He was preparing to move from South Africa’s city of gold in pursuit of his own gold in Bloemfontein. My friend had been offered the opportunity to work and study for his PHD there; a call for a celebration.