The Brand

"...iCheap(a)..."

A name given to me by my own people.

My own people have left the curved ion in the fire. It sat there together with the charcoal, the roasted mielies and baked potatoes.

Over the fire is the most beautiful chaos one could lay his ears upon, an orchestra at the fire place.

This was no ordinary noise. This noise was organized and in perfect harmony. The noise was made of chit-chat and laughter, then right in-between all of that was a thin sheet of gossip.

The gossip had mt name stripped on its back, carrying it from person to person across the fire.

"...Oh, elo cheap(a)..."

Was the theme of the night.

In this particular night, the red sizzling branding iron rod was taken out of the fire and placed on my beautiful fat ass:

"...Hhhhlii..."

Now, i too walk with the curse of my father before me. I walk with a scar of iCheap(a) on my behind.

"...if only i was a fly..."

I wished...

I wished i could fly there, at the scene of the crime, fly to the fire, fly to my people and educate them on the power of the brand, the title they have gracefully bestowed upon me, the one they have knighted me with. If only it was an honor...

I wish i could fly down there and enlighten them on what it means to be the so called iCheap(a).

If only i could take the veil of fog that beautifully covers their eyes.

Teach them on how to see beyond my brand new pair of Adidas Superstar. See beyond the new Guess jeans that still smell of the Uitenhage clothing factory.

If the platform was given to me, i would start with the breakdown of their famous brand. break it down to its rood word:

"...CHEAP..."

Tell them how it really is at the so called "eGoli", the City of Gold. Gold that doesn't belong to the African_Child. And how he can not even claim an ounce of it even though the price is his Life...

Tell them how i save the whole year so i can come home in December and show them:

"...I am Fine..."

To only be welcomed with a brand:

"...iCheap(a)..."

To only be welcomed with by Toll-Gates and local Tax rates.

"...I have made it..."

I am glad they see it that way. But what i hate is they refuse to see the 'process'... If they can do it to me, there is no doubt they do it to the child who sleeps at 11:00 pm, not in his bed, but on the very same books cram into his fragile mind. He wakes up at 4:00 am and continues the struggle... Aluta Continua... To only walk amongst his own people with his own brand:

"...uClever..."

Damn...

#Mzukhology

P.S

Inkomo zika Bawo zine nyongo...