A very good morning to you.
When kids were sweet at school, some fifty years ago, we were rewarded with a little star on the forehead. There were different colours but gold was the ultimate.
Conversely, misconduct led to pain from a cane, or one was expelled from the classroom to the outer reaches of the universe, to contemplate one’s since until repentance was firmly rooted.
Now, let’s see. We have racism.
Black on black
Black on white
White on black
White on white
and, in between, a rainbow so twisted it could make a chameleon psycho.
Poets dedicate their talents to it.
Writers publish books.
Spiritual leaders look holy in their condemnation of it
Politicians become saints despite killing masses
Some even get Nobel prizes
Then the nation cherishes its heritage. It gives speeches, rallies to stadiums, even have a braai.
The outcast, like the Bard Cacophonix, are left outside the arena, in wheelchairs and with white inthungus. As if they have disability to repent from.
Shame on you, South Africa, for wearing a carefully tailored rainbow suit of hypocrisy.
Freedom without Jesus is just another war.