I didn’t seek you out
Or know but a faint sniff of your existence.
Whilst I sat by the quiet waters of Mpushini Falls
Where mighty Shaka and his impis speared tribes into oblivion,
You sleighed your way down crispy white snow
Once stained by the blood of atoning fathers
Which rolled the red carpet over white supremacy.

You got my details from the nuns.
They thought it would be best
To make connections over the hinterland and ocean.
You were much better than the German Greek who
Was your predecessor.
You should have seen him – posing on the couch
So snugly with mom, dad and sis. Where was I going to fit?

Was it shame that moved you to write?
Trying to water choked South African wild oats
With your western notion of outreach,
Thinking that you have everything that I don’t?
No swollen bellies or elephant-back taxi rides here:
I’m just a budding soul finding my peace.
You’re disturbing this process – now buzz off.