12. Person Centered Revolution

Reflections on The Way of The Outsider 

by Monde Mdodana    

Nxele will return!
He will yet come to us, bold as Love.
Nxele The Outsider.

He will be poor; hence he will have nothing

to lose.
He will announce The Person Centered Revolution!

Nxele will return!

He will speak as one who has been silent
for two hundred years; the people
will hear their forgotten Selves in his speech.

He will be poor; hence he will have nothing to lose.

He will announce The Person Centered Revolution! 

Nxele will return!

He will not fight to Liberate the race,
nor will he fight to Liberate the class;
The Outsider will return to struggle
for the Liberation of the Person!

He will be poor; hence he will have nothing to lose.

He will announce The Person Centered Revolution!

Nxele will return!

He will be seen in Initiation Schools,
teaching young men The Way to Heal through Love.

He will be poor; hence he will have nothing to lose.

He will announce The Person Centered Revolution!

Nxele will return!

He will trouble no man, yet he will be
as terrifying as The Black Panther
in Self defense!

He will be poor; hence he will have nothing to lose.

He will announce The Person Centered Revolution!

The Truth About that Dream: an excerpt from a short story

by Deon-Simphiwe Skade



It feels like a dream. One I may easily wake up from. If only someone could shake me. Can someone shake me – Please? But it ought to be the right push, lest I get tipped off from the comfort of my bed and fall. I’m fearful of falling, and of heights. Perhaps this fear has something to do with my bad dreams. I usually experience dreams in which I fall; from rooftops, bridges, trees, mountains – I’m always falling – forever.

As I try to make peace with my fear for falling, I see a man I always struggle to outrun. He has graced many of my dreams before.
Even though I haven’t seen him in a while, he still carries the same malevolent air about him that holds enormous darkness in my sleep.  I watch him approach a short distance away. Like me, he’s walking in a dimly-lit alley with the clearest night watching over the world.  The man seems to be calculating ways of eventually capturing me in order to cause me serious bodily harm. It’s in the way he inspects me that reveals his malicious desires. To date, I still don’t know what I did to him to be such sought blood.

I could turn around and run, but such a move could cost me in many ways. For one, the dark man runs very fast which is of course my disadvantage. If I have to escape him this time, I have to be a little innovative and lead him to believe that my calm approach is merely to submit myself to him, only to surprise him with my sudden escape when I get closer to him. The escape I would manage, would lead me to the resumption of my search for Cynthia. She promised to kiss me. I’m sure that my girlfriend would not approve of Cynthia’s lips touching mine, especially the way lovers’ lips touch. But we’ll make the whole thing our little secret, Cynthia and I.

I have been eager to kiss Cynthia since we became colleagues a few months ago. She’s been very keen to kiss me too, but has been playful about the whole thing. She even teased about her desire to kiss me in the presence of our colleagues, who then just laughed her talk off like it was a joke. But I know she meant it. That is why I have to find her before the night dies so as to put an end to her little games.

The sky is a clear dark blue blanket. But the stars have shunned its darkness. It’s as if the vast space above had caused an embarrassment to the entire universe, and somehow the non-showing of stars serves as a fitting punishment to the heavens. But it’s the same ol’ night. The preceding ones have had the same melting blue, which twinkled with traces of ghosts that roamed above while the whole world was fast asleep.

With all the risk I’m taking to find Cynthia, I know it may seem like I’m the one with the greater urge to kiss her. But she’s just being strategic about the whole thing. I know she’s being deliberately elusive so that I may chase her and later become the one to carry the blame when we’re both caught and shamed for our kiss.

“I did not suggest that we kiss; you did and pushed me to that end.” I imagine her saying this, washing her hands clean of any traces of guilt.

But I don’t think it would come to that, we’d keep the whole thing discreet.
I have to find Cynthia and show her how silly traces of ghosts look in this sullen blue night; which if one thinks about it, ought to be affected by the revelations of dead souls flashing over its tremendous plane.

As I get closer to the approaching dark man in the alley, I search for his large illuminated eyes and find them. They are flickering like amber flames fighting not to die. He fixes his stare on me, ready to pounce. Then out of the blue, the air suddenly becomes thick with pressure, as if throttled by the tensions of evil forces.  And before I could assess the distance that keeps the dark man away from me, he charges, snarling like an angry predator. Something subdues me and takes away my ability to move. I become weak: at the knees, in my thoughts and throughout my entire muscled frame.

But I manage to jump towards the top edge of the alley wall in the same way as I planned to escape. My hands lock into a firm grip which should allow me to lift my body up so as to jump over the wall. But I’m too heavy to do that. The dark man stands and watches me as I struggle. And then he laughs with a dark whimper in his voice...

... This story continues here.

(It was first published on Botsotso Literary Journal.)

The Left Hand of Prophecy (Part One): an excerpt from a short story

by Monde Mdodana


“One of the most remarkable figures in Xhosa history is warrior prophet named Nxele, known in the colony as Makana or Links, the left-handed.”


1. Nxele’s Prologue

And now that we have made all the preparations, I must take pains to write this letter. I hope that it will be timeless, and that every Son of Man will read it. But I am addressing it specifically to you; the Existing Individual. I can not hope to address it to everyone, for then I address it to no one. I can not hope to inspire Spirit in the crowd, for Spirit manifests not but through the Existing Individual Soul. Concepts such as “crowd”, “humanity” and “mankind” are but abstractions representing a group of Existing Individuals. What actually exist, in the concrete, are the Individuals, not the concepts. The first clue to the Spirit is the Spiritual Individual. The first clue to the Creator is the Created Individual. The first clue to Existence is the Existing Individual. No, I can not hope to inspire the crowd with Spirit. But you, the Existing Individual, I have Faith in you.


2. The Seven Solitudes or The Ten Year Exile

From the moment we set foot on the island, I began attracting thoughts about making a getaway as soon as an opportunity presented itself. I gave myself up to the christians because I knew it was me that they wanted the most. The scourge that they brought to the village was a challenge to me personally to come out of hiding. They know that I am the heart of the assault, that it is I who inspired the warriors to raise the War Cry and stab the enemy in order to protect the land. I knew that they would not cease to harrass and torture the villagers as long as I remained in hiding.

I gave myself up so here I am; bound at Robben Island. They could have kept me in a prison in Xhosaland, but they chose to bring me out to this island. I imagine that a plant that has been uprooted and left in the sun to dry feels like I feel right now; banned from the nutritious soil, exiled, condemned to the Seven Solitudes! They obviously hope to hammer it in that I will never see my homeland again, to press it into my psyche until it sinks in that I will be isolated forever! The island is a symbol of Isolation, their message is clear to me.

But I am no stranger to isolation. In fact, isolation is my most faithful Spirit. I like to call him Solitude and play with his ears. I have been with Solitude ever since I was a little boy. He and I have an irresistible, mysterious, unspoken connection. He has been following me everywhere I go for as long as I can remember. But I also follow him sometimes. To the bushveld, to the rivers; to the mountains! I let Solitude lead every now and again because he knows where Mystery dwells.

She is an irresistible creature, this Mystery. Our best minds and Huntsmen in The World of Spirit have broken down or gone insane, all in despair of her elusive nature. But what is really irresistible about Mystery? Is she irresistible in herself, or is it an irresistible urge in us to search, to explore, to climb the mountains of Consciousness that we may know their abysses as well as their summits? I think it’s the latter; we, Huntsmen in The World of Spirit, are the begetters of the irresistible quality in Mystery. Mystery Exists, but not every man finds her irresistible. It is us, Huntsmen in The World of Spirit!

You may be wondering; what is a Huntsman in The World of Spirit? A Huntsman in The World of Spirit is a -Man of Solitude. Every man has his Solitude, but not every man acknowledges him in his entirety. A Huntsman in The World of Spirit must accept his Solitude, because it is from, in, and through Solitude that he will learn to go beyond the senses in his hunt for the heart of Mystery. And we must not forget our formula: The first clue to the Spirit is the Spiritual Individual. The first clue to the Creator is the Created Individual. The first clue to Existence is the Existing Individual. But what is the first clue to Mystery? The first clue to Mystery is the Self. His Individual Soul or him-Self is everyman’s first true Mystery. A Huntsman in The World of Spirit must learn this. He must learn that the crowd can not help him in his search for Mystery or Spirit or the Creator. That is, he must learn to accept his Solitude!

A Huntsman in The World of Spirit should strive to be like the Firefly, which finds its way through darkness not but by the aid of its own light...

... This story continues here.

(It was first published on Botsotso Literary Journal.)

11. Existential Becoming

Reflections on The Way of The Outsider 

by Monde Mdodana

The Moment of Creation is every moment or the Moment of Creation is Existential Becoming. That is, if an Individual makes a Choice to be x instead of y at Moment A, then he has to make that Choice again at Moment B in order to remain x. He has to Become x, because x is not his essence; his essence is to Choose. That is, if he wants to be x, then he has to Create x out of him-self, every Moment of his life! And so it comes about that every man Becomes the sum of the Choices that he makes. But, as long as long as he is still alive, we can not underline the problem. So because, as long as he still lives, he still has the power to make additions or subtractions to the sum which is him-Self.

Existential becoming is a terrible concept. If you are strong, honest and brave enough to understand it, then it cannot but condemn you to Fear and Trembling. When one grasps this concept, intellectually and Spiritually, then one becomes a battleground for the conflict between the dynamic nature of Existence and the static nature of philosophical, moral and religious systems that claim to explain and demystify Existence. Philosophical, moral and religious systems are fixed symbols that attempt to represent Existence, but Existence is spontaneous, dynamic Energy or Spirit, infinitely Mysterious!

Foggy Road (lyrics)

by Burning Spear

My way is long, but the road is foggy,
My way is long, so long, but the road is foggy, foggy.

My head never swell, my heart never leap,
I never have no fear from within.
My head never swell my heart never leap,
I never no fear within.
Even though the road is so so foggy, foggy yeah,
Can hardly see, Jah Jah is my eyesight.
Be with I, be with I, be with I Jah Jah!
Jah Jah be with I, I and I and I and I!
Deh an' dem hate I, deh an' dem fight against I.
Some of them judge I wrongfully,
But never mind my Brother I will go on.

The road is foggy, foggy,
The road is foggy, foggy.

Guidance be with I and I, going out and coming in
From all the evil things and evil doers everyday,
This accident include

The road is so foggy, the road is so foggy, foggy.
So foggy.

No more stumbling by,
No more stumbling by.
Forward my Brother, go forward,
Even though the road is foggy, foggy.
I and I will never turn back.
Not turning back will I.
The road is so foggy, foggy.
The road is foggy, foggy.

Creation Rebel

by The Outsider

"The secret of initiation remains inviolable by its very nature; it cannot be betrayed because it cannot be expressed." Andrew Feldmar

During the period of my circumcision, I retreated to Inwardness so deep and frightening that it made a permanent mark on my nerves and changed my life forever. I listened to the teachings of the school of circumcision, I thought – I despaired. I accepted the teachings with an open heart so far as they recognized and acknowledged every man's aloneness. Much of man's Inward experiences are inexpressible. Language as a symbol for interpersonal communication is not fully capable of representing the Individual Soul or the Self to itself and to others. To think about oneself therefore, is only to know a fraction of oneself. For, thinking is the use of language in the organization of mental contents. Our thoughts are predominantly constructed from language. The insights that come to us from beyond the use of language are not thoughts, they are Intuitions.

None of the teachers at the school were aware of this inadequacy. Each of them thought about him-Self, they spoke to each other about themselves and none of them felt that he was under-representing him-Self. I despaired over this, and oftentimes I went aside and wandered the abysses and summits of the mountains.

For me, the circumcision involved the recognition that Umdalidiphu (The Creator of the Deep) does not see crowds; he only sees the Individual. I had to get circumcised as an Individual; no one could get circumcised on my behalf.

The circumcision means the sacrifice of the foreskin and the emergence of every man's Uniqueness. After the sacrifice of the foreskin, a new and original Individuality will emerge. It will not be like anyone else, but will have its own difference, its own special entity, its own character and its own special power. Umdalidiphu does not create all plants of exactly the same size, beauty and strength. There are stupid people, wise people and those whose heads have opened to the power to read thoughts and see that which is invisible to most people. The sacrifice reveals this new person hidden in the boy.

I wandered from school to school, from village to village, looking for a teacher who could teach me more Self and more Self-Expression. My Intuition told me to look for a teacher who can dance; "the teacher who can dance experiences more of him-Self than the thinker or the lukewarm speaker. Consequently, he will teach you the remotest and most hidden parts of your-Self". I followed my Intuition and went from teacher to teacher, greeting them with offerings of tobacco and brandy, bidding them to teach me to dance before Umdalidiphu. That is, to teach me complete Self-Expression.

I discovered that they weighed the value of your Manhood according to the amount of Self you sacrifice and how socially acceptable you are. I am not against being socially acceptable, I just think that we should give more respect to the Man who has the courage to be him-Self. A Man should not sacrifice himself for outward moralities, he should express him-Self to the fullest, because outward moralities are born from his Self-Expression.

Reflections on The Rite of Circumsision

by The Outsider

I have been listening to the news this morning; I hear that the number of youths who have died during their Initiation rituals has risen to thirty three. I was shocked to learn that the death toll is approaching that of the Marikana Massacre.

My Brothers, I have terrible forebodings with regard to this Sacred Initiation Rite; may The Creator forbid that it should be outlawed like the mystery religions of ancient Greece, when the state adopted Christianity as the official religion.

But the way things are going, that may not be an impossible outcome in a few years to come. I believe that we will suffer great psychic epidemics when that happens (in fact the suffering has already commenced; the increase in sex crimes and the upsurge in "Satanism" are some of the first clues), because we would be legislating against an essential structure of our psyche.

This ritual is an ancient practice; it is part of the very structure of our minds. We have evolved it from psychological necessity, as the body evolves methods of Healing itself. When a race of people develops a particular Myth, you can be sure that the Myth will feed the most essential hungers of their collective psyche.

If you are a subtle observer however, you will perceive that these hungers are not being fed today, or they are being fed badly, because the suffering has already commenced. To me it seems that the ritual has become a shell; everyone goes through the motions but the Myth is no more internalised. The ritual has become a communal spectacle in which the participants are rational people who have ceased to believe in Myth. I believe that this is part of the reason why we suffer from this collective psychosis today; "the wrath of the Ancestors" if you will.

Although our current reality is as it is, we should not "throw away the baby with the bath water". We need to revive this ritual, not on the level of Custom but on the level of Philosophy. Old men will never let us engage philosophically with this ritual; they are obstinately dogmatic.

My Brothers, I dare say we must look beyond the forms of things, that we may perceive the essential in them. Let Each Man ask him-Self; what are the Psycho-Philosophical needs that have necessitated to evolution of this form of Initiation?

I know that I will be condemned by my people for my public Reflections on this topic, and I will be condemned by some westerners for being too backward. But I am motivated by Compassion. Thirty three have already dead, and it's not even June yet.

I am convinced that we need brave Men to philosophise anew with regard to this ritual; otherwise we will lose it altogether. 

10. The Seeker After Rebirth

Reflections on The Way of The Outsider 

by Monde Mdodana

In Solitude, at length I meditated on the Vision. I saw Somagwaza in conflict with his weaker nature; I saw him trying to liberate him-Self from the tyranny of the instincts. I saw his weaker nature desiring the warmth and oblivion of Woman, that part of him that wants to return to bliss through the Womb door. Associated with these desires is guilt, because it is not the Destiny of Man to return to the Womb. He is like the Initiate who must not look back when his Womb of Rebirth Burns to Ashes; he must run forward into the Future!

His Higher Self would have him inwardly commit matricide and look to The Sun for The Way that he must travel. The guilt can only be resolved when he ceases to dedicate him-Self to the worship of Woman. In order for him to Become whole and in order for the Man in him to be Born, he must not chase after any Woman's Womb, instead he must bring about his own Psychic Rebirth. This is the Paradox of Somawaza, The Seeker After Rebirth; he is pregnant, and must Become Mother, Midwife and Child. He is The First-Born of Creation. If he persists through the Fire, a precious Stone will emerge from the furnace.

9. Sacrament of The High or Stoner Stuff

Reflections on The Way of The Outsider

by Monde Mdodana

Them and them can't globalize it,

Can't commercialize or tax it so they won't legalize it.

Health Gurus and tobacco merchants polemicize,

But we let 'em be 'cause we're too High to criticize.

Them and them live a low life; they need to navigate The High.

We choose The High 'cause low lives are hypocritical;

Declare a war on drugs but them and them regulars at the pharmaceutical.

They need to navigate The High.

Haters of the unbound they are; they interfere when we meditate.

But, unfathomable, we inhale and elevate.

High, Higher, and Higher still; to the summit of the Soul.

We ascend, only to descend again;

The smoke in our lungs unites summit and abyss paradoxically.

Them and them live a low life; they need to navigate The High.

We don't flee into the hopes of a better tomorrow;

We are immersed in the smoky eternity of here and now!

They commune around the market place and buy, buy, buy!

We commune around the Herb and become One through The Sacrament of The High.

8. Anti-dogma

Reflections on The Way of The Outsider

by Monde Mdodana

The Outsider has his truth, but his truth is different from the truth of the people or the truth of academic philosophers. The truth of the people is - or it pretends to be - necessary, dogmatic, absolute truth. The Way of The Outsider is not absolute truth, but it is nonetheless essential, primal truth. Absolute truth is true for everyone; regardless of whether or not a particular Individual worked to discover it, regardless of whether or not he believes it or believes in it.

But The Way of The Outsider is a reversal of this dogmatism; it is essential, Existential truth, but it is not true for the particular Outsider if he does not discover it for him-Self. The particular Outsider has to work to discover The Way. That is, he has to have Faith in its Existence.

7. The Way of Paradox

Reflections on The Way of The Outsider

by Monde Mdodana

The Way of The Outsider is a Way of Paradox. Our Hero must learn that even psychic regression can run to its opposite; it can be transformed into a Leap of Faith.

The tendency to keep looking backward is like being sucked back into the Waters of The Mother, where the Soul drifts in endless waves of despair. Here our Hero is at a standstill; he suffers from a paralysis of his Positive Creativity.

We can put the problem in other words and say that his Manhood suffers from an injury. For, Man wants to be just like his Creator; he wants to act to Create or assist in the Creation of something that ensures that life is furthered into the distant future. That is why they say Man is Created in the likeness and image his Creator.

Thus when he neglects to look into the distant future, when he does not act in the present to prepare a way for his Unborn Child, we are justified in asserting that his Manhood has suffered an injury.

The escape from this state of paralysis is a Journey of a thousand miles, but it is also one irrational Leap into an ocean of unknowable depths. Here our Hero has to let go of fear and disbelief; he has to let go of all his Pain.

If he does not panic and spend his energy when the tides draw him to the bosom of the Sea, if only he possesses enough Courage to let go, then the very same tides will carry him back to dry land as they return with the wind.

The Paradox of the Creator is that he Creates something out of nothing. If he Believes, our Hero can also achieve the impossible; he can "Leap" out of the Dark Waters of despair.  

The Outsider as a Working Class Hero

Working Class Hero (lyrics)

by John Lennon

As soon as you born they make you feel small

By giving you no time instead of it all

Till the pain is so big you feel nothing at all

A working class his something to be

They hurt you at home when they hit you with school

They hate you if you're clever and they despise a fool

Till you're so fucking crazy you can't follow their rules

A working class hero is something to be

When they tortured and scared you for twenty-odd years

Then they expect you to pick a career

When you can't really function you're so full of fear

A working class is something to be

Keep you doped with religion and sex and TV

And you think you're so clever and classless and free

But you're still fucking peasants as far as I can see

A working class hero is something to be

There's room at the top they are telling you still

But first you must learn how to smile as you kill

If you want to be like the folks on the hill

A working class he something to be

If you want to be a hero well just follow me 

Thandiswa Mazwai - "My Face Goes Here"

6. The seduction of Somagwaza

Reflections on The Way of The Outsider

by Monde Mdodana

I see Somagwaza walking alone, with the blazing Sun overhead. It was not long before he came across a river, which he had to cross in order to get to his Destination. The Water was calm; there was no turbulence. He was halfway through, when suddenly a soft wind blew and he felt something in the Water tie his legs together, so that he lost his balance. He did not sink however, but merely floated above the Water, and fell into a dream: there she was, sitting on a protruding rock in the middle of the river. She was looking away from him. She glanced over her shoulder, called his name, then looked away again. But he saw her; that brief moment was enough for him to take into his soul all the perfection of her beauty. He wanted to posses her, but he could not move his limbs. No matter how great an effort he put into it, he remained magically tied to the spot. She slid off the rock and turned to face him. Her breasts were round and firm; he could not look away from them. She spoke to him; I am Mamlambo, these Waters are my domain. He was mesmerised, expectant and terrified. "I know who you are, and why you are here", she said.

"Is that so?"

"Yes, you are here because I called you."

"No, I am here because this is where I must cross, I have to get to the Other Side." She moved closer to him, so that her breasts squeezed against his bare chest. Hot blood rushed to his Phallus. Now he could move his limbs, and discovered that he could embrace her. He took her into his arms; she was light and yielding, her skin was soft and electric. He proposed to enter her, and she smiled triumphantly and said to him: "I will give you my sex, enough of it to satisfy your every wish and desire. I will come to you, even when you call me in your dreams. Only, there is one thing that you have to do in order to have me."

"What is it? I want to have you, then I must Journey on."

"I want you to abandon your Journey and go back to your hometown. There I want you to use your Gift to found a Secret Temple for the Mothers, and be that Temple's most faithful servant. If you do this, I will exist for your pleasure, for all eternity."

"I don't have a Gift, I fail to understand you when you say 'use your Gift to found a Secret Temple'".

"You are Self-Seeking Somagwaza! You come from a long line of Gifted Fathers; the potential is there, in your Blood."

"If I have a Gift, and if I have this Gift because I am a descendant of Gifted Fathers; why should I use it to found a Secret Temple for the Mothers?"

"If you agree to do this, then I will allow you to enter me now. On top of that, I will bring you seven times seven Virgins to be your servants and playthings. All these pleasures and more will be yours, if you say 'yes' to the Mothers."

"Yes!"

She took his hand and led him to the soft grass on the bank, and there spread out her legs for him. Afterwards, he felt physically weak and inwardly guilty.

Before long he awoke to discover that he was not in the Water where he fell asleep. He remembered his dream and instantly understood why he was where he was. He approached the river with the intention of crossing it and resuming his Wandering. But he soon grew frightened because the nearer he got to the Waters, the more rough and turbulent they became.

Now I see Somagwaza talking to an old man: "Can you see things before they happen?" he asks.

"Sometimes, yes."

"You must have seen this coming then; I fail to understand why you made no attempts to stop it."

"We couldn't, we can't stop her; you're the only one who can."

"You could atleast have warned me about her."

"We had to let you make a Choice."

"So what happens now?"

"Now you have to make another Choice; will you go back to the Womb and live your life a servant of the Mothers, or will you Rise with the Sun and cross the noontide with Him, that you may rest at twilight cleansed by Struggle and full of Repose?"

"But there is too much turbulence, it would be suicide."

"The turbulence is in your mind, not in the Water. You have to learn to control the flow of you thoughts and cool your boiling Blood."

"But how . . . who will teach me?"

"It is night; make a Fire now, and lie down."

5. Existential

Reflections on The Way of The Outsider

by Monde Mdodana

X: Absolute objectivity is a false doctrine. In the quest for knowledge, the knower cannot be separated from the known. What the knower perceives is inescapably conditioned by his subjectivity.

Y: If absolute objectivity was a 'false doctrine', then there would be no science in the world.

X: There would be no science as we know it today. If we could overcome the illusion of objectivity and the 'scientific' tendency to disregard that which cannot be verified by the outward eye, then we'd develop a more wholesome way of knowing. Science would cease to be something that you do, or a state of mind that you adopt, it would be The Way you Exist.

3. Science and Myth

Reflections on The Way of The Outsider

by Monde Mdodana


I stood gazing at the Fire, and meditated on the relationship between Science and Myth; is Myth "primitive" Science, or is science "advanced" Myth?

I'd become nauseated by the dead textbook science of formal education. I dreamt of a dynamic, living Science; a Science that is conscious of its debt to Myth. 

Cape Town Central Library, Darling Street, Cape Town - 22/09/2011

My Epidemic, Your Epidemic

by Deon-Simphiwe Skade

This poem was originally published in New Coin poetry journal. It subsequently appeared in the novella, A Series of Undesirable Events. Layout and text design by Graeme Arendse.

2. The Outsider's Prayer of Submission and Triumph

Reflections on The Way of The Outsider

by Monde Mdodana


Father!
I am falling; I pray I fall into your hands,
now that it is too late to find balance.

Father!
I find myself in Flames; if I must Burn further,
I pray my glow Lights up the
House of my Ancestors!

Above all, I pray you teach me the Secret of
Letting Go.

Camagu

Ode to Moses Taiwa Molelekwa

Fabric paint on cotton - The Spirit of Taiwa (painting by Deon-Simphiwe Skade)

Mandela's Children

by Deon-Simphiwe Skade

A view from a village called Nxasa in Tsolo, Eastern Cape. Photo: © Deon-Simphiwe Skade

  

There are folds in the sky above the village of Mpunkone near Tsolo in the Eastern Cape. The folds are so grey and so tremendous – so sinister! The large wrinkles also appear to be like a blanket in the sky that is drooping so low it may tear in the middle to pour out large rivers of rain. There is going to be a huge downpour! And those boys below that big fruitless tree better run away and hide. Otherwise, they may be soaked by the imminent rain and possibly catch cold or fever. Getting sick may be the last thing they need. For their dreams may be interrupted for a few days; so is their playing in the fields and their learning! This inevitably means that the boys under the tree would not be seen together for a few days. Only the ones who would have taken precaution against the rain would be free to roam about the village and play. But even so, playing and learning would be less fun now that there would be a few of them out there. Children cannot afford to have these kinds of interruptions. They are Mandela’s children and the old man wants to see all of them dream and prosper in good health. That is why that lot below that big fruitless tree need to stay clear of the coming rain, before it starts pouring down. They have South Africa’s dreams to protect – Mandela’s dreams! And just how big those boys’ dreams are is a wonder. I suppose their dreams could be as big as the universe and as infinite as their imaginations allow them. They are children after all; their minds are always hungry for meaning and relevance.... THE COMPLETE STORY CARRIES ON ELSEWHERE...

Don Mattera and the Religion of Compassion

by Monde Mdodana




Monde Mdodana (left) seen with Elder Don Mattera (middle) and Mpumi Cilibe (right) at the Nelson Mandela Bay Book Fair held at The Opera House on 14 March 2013 - Photo by Ras Luyolo Matshoba

Elder Don Mattera says Compassion is The Highest Religion. Elder Don Mattera says life is about "on your marks, get set, ready, but before you go, look behind to see who you can take with you".

Elder Don Mattera says Compassion is The Highest Religion. Elder Don Mattera says "everyone wants to cast a big shadow, but the best shadow to be cast is the shadow of caring and consciousness".

Elder Don Mattera says Compassion is The Highest Religion. Elder Don Mattera says Barack Obama is sending unmaned aircrafts to bomb people in the middle east, but here, in "our beautiful Azania", no one sees the need to do anything about it.

1. Begin from disappointment*

Reflections on The Way of The Outsider

by Monde Mdodana

My way, The Way of The Outsider, is a philosophy that begins from disappointment. Disappointment, that vague feeling of distress over unfulfilment is the first sign on The Way of The Outsider.

The Outsider, he has become an Outsider because of increasing disillusionment; he is becoming disillusioned with himself, he is becoming disillusioned with society.

There is a growing number of these Outsiders nowadays; they can see that society fails to create favourable conditions for the youth, instead they choose to motivate the young by setting impossible standards for them.

But The Outsider is disappointed more with himself. He can see that he hasn't been living his own life; he has been taking his cues from the expectations of parents, teachers and television.

Although it begins from disapointment, The Way of The Outsider is not a philosophy of disappointment, so let it not be confused with a philosophy off nihilism.

The Way of The Outsider is a Creative Philosophy; disapointment is viewed as a positive experience that provides an opportunity for the Creation of new meaning.

                              

* This is a tittle from Martin-Seaver, Madeline's essay on Black Existentialism available here