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Created on: April 20, 2010
My heart is bleeding for my country; a country which is treading in silent war. My heart has grown up here, beating to the African drum, my lungs rising with the smoke filled air, my blood pumping to the cries of the rainbow nation of South Africa.
Since 1994 all South African have made a conscious attempt to live together peacefully and to embrace our nation with its eleven official languages and it’s mixture of cultures and history, but it seems as if all of our efforts, our hopes and dreams for South Africa have been silently trampled and smothered by those who hold racism and vengeance close to their hearts.
I now look out at the sunset and I hear the cries and wails of more than three–thousand-three-hundred farmers who have been brutally murdered, their families thrown to the ground, their harvest burned to ashes, their hopes and dreams thrown away as their country refuses to hear their pleas. I hear a mother's heart wrenching cry as she looks down at her baby's burned body, her husband's mangled corpse. I look at the kaleidoscope of colors through our nation and I see racial tension flaring up, as the ones who are supposed to rule our country and provide for its people look the other way and applaud the hate growing between their people, feeding the fire of rape and murder which has smothered our sense of belonging.
I feel the wind of Africa carrying the winter of the bush, and I see the country go hungry from the driven vengeance of race. I see the black and whites trying desperately to grasp each other’s hands, knowing that murder and vengeance has no fulfillment, but the wind of the past is too strong and it blows us apart.
I hear the poor wail as they shake their head at their government's unfulfilled promises which had been replaced by desperate attempts which left our country torn apart, distressed, poor and barren. I see the township children running wild with questions and confusion burned into their minds.
I look at my country; a land of opportunities, and I wonder how the hate of the minority could have stained us all. I see my black and white neighbors look at each other with uncertainty; unsure of what truly is swirling in each others hearts.
I see South Africa, and my heart bleeds as I look at the tear streaked faces, the disappointed postures of my people, the cries of our children and the wails of our victims. I look at the world and I ask why no one sees, and then wonder why no one answers. How long can hate be carried before it sets out and destroys…everything…
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