#soweto
These words I wrote years ago,
etched from pain, from memory,
from streets that whispered
stories I had yet to live fully.
I come from St Helena,
but Soweto adopted me,
through grief, through pain,
through streets that whisper stories
of loss and survival.
A land of split light,
where grief sleeps in the dust,
and laughter rises above hunger,
where violence and kindness sit side by side,
like strangers sharing a taxi ride.
I was dragged by my hair once,
after dark, after work,
by a desperate hand driven
by nyaope,
a cruel mixture that breeds hunger and fear.
I never hated him—
how can you hate survival?
Yet it was the children who held my heart—
orphans with bright eyes,
growing vegetables, painting, dancing,
playing Nkosi Sikelel’ iAfrika
on the heavy piano I dragged across oceans,
because they deserved music
as much as anyone.
They called me mama,
though I had no children of my own.
They clung to me when I left,
their tears soaking my clothes—
and mine soaking theirs.
I still hear Mbalienhle whispering,
“hamba kahle, mama,”
as if a blessing could follow me across the world.
The streets were dark and uneven,
fires burned in corners to keep warm,
and shadows moved where I could not see.
I offered to walk one child home,
but she refused, tiny and fearless,
and said instead,
“No, mama Emma… I will walk you to safety.”
Soweto is full of hardship—
blood on the streets,
gunshots at night,
clinics crowded for hours,
where people queue patiently,
handing in guns at the door
as casually as signing their names.
Ubuntu lived in tea, in ice, in care,
in arms that carried me
when whisky made my legs forget their duty.
On a Thursday night,
they dressed me in Zulu beads
and renamed me Nomkhumbulwa—
the one who remembers.
I belonged to them, and they to me.
I witnessed despair,
and I witnessed defiance—
children who refused to succumb
to gangs, to drugs, to fear,
learning, creating, surviving
with hearts larger than the city itself.
Though my life has changed for the better now,
and healing has begun to take root,
the truth remains:
in a place the world calls broken,
I found everything whole.
I found family.
I found love.
I found myself.
And somewhere in the wind, I still hear Neil’s voice,
soft as umoya, whispering I was meant to rise.
And now I return,
to Soweto, to laughter and warmth,
to children, to fires,
to my happy place once more,
where the streets still whisper,
but my heart knows the rhythm of home.
For Neil — who first walked Soweto with me.
Nov 17, 2025
Nov 17, 2025 at 6:11 AM UTC
Reflecting.....
As the pace of life slows
To protect my health
I sit here reflecting
For I can’t do much else
The global situation
On all our minds
Surreal as it is
The Earth is doing fine
I sit here listening
To the sounds of Soweto
Wondering if there’s anyone else
Like me.... locked down in Soweto
Luck it may have been
I consider myself lucky still
I wouldn’t want to be stuck anywhere else
What a story I now have to tell
There is hardship and struggle
Even for us every day
Yet there is also love... beauty...
Something so special to be here to “stay”
I’m no tourist
But still I feel unique
I wonder... is there anyone else?
Anyone else like me?
I feel I belong
I always have
But now this feelings deeper
I forget I’m not local infact!
It’s only when I sit here
And think, everything still
That I remember I’m different
Yet I’m treated like a local
I have become a Sowetan
And it didn’t start this year
It’s been happening slowly
The township adopted me, year after year
People are varied
Some are illegal
Yet, as written in the constitution
This country belongs to all
I love South Africa
But not all of it’s the same
It’s here in Soweto
Here - I got a new name
I don’t feel any different
To others around me
I have become one of them
But still wonder..... is there anyone else like me?
Getting stuck here was a blessing
How things fall into place!
Although no one anticipated COVID
Being in Soweto puts a smile on my face
I feel it’s almost sacred
To find myself here
During this global pandemic
I’ve been “protected “ it’s clear
I’m here for a reason
That has been proven to me
And whatever the reason
... it was just meant to be
I “belong “ here in Soweto
There IS no one like me
I am now a Sowetan
...just as it was “meant to be”
Ngiyabonga beautiful people **
Aug 20, 2020
Aug 20, 2020 at 11:28 AM UTC
I was beginning to know who I am,
Or so I thought until now;
But now im thinking again
…..do I really know who I am?
I thought myself a good person,
Though this thought comes and goes;
But now im not so certain
Am I someone you should know?
I feel like im under performing,
Stupid, and over reacting;
As Coronavirus reached our shores
Perhaps everyone is over reacting
I look on at the rest of the world,
Most Countries affected 1st world;
For South Africa the danger is greater,
Yet others say we’re not in the world…
Do they now understand?
Or is it me being pathetic?
Im not mocking these countries
I know life must be hectic
But is it wrong to be worried?
Although our case load is small,
For with a huge *** burden
The case load surely wont stay small
Here people struggle each day,
The economy fails more and more;
Yet we need to pick up the pieces
We need to do this for all
This is not a time to be greedy,
Solidarity and compassion a must,
There wasn't any money before…..
But now finding it is a must…
Though numbers are low right now,
200 overnight to 750,
With densely populated areas of deep poverty
The spread must be contained immediately
Yes, the measures we’re taking are drastic,
But the worry and fear is real,
If this should enter our townships
Its too late…too many will fall ill
Our poor rural people are vulnerable
The mass communication campaign not accessible
What will happen to these people?
To forget about them is just cruel
I dont think its a time for mocking
Or laughing at us here in SA;
For if we don't act, the risk is far greater,
affecting millions, more than the UK
Sometimes I look forward to isolation
But not from the people here,
Rather from the ignorance online,
To help me keep things clear
No one even sees im stuck here,
Not that I wish to leave;
But just knowing people are unaware
…of the disruption here by this disease…
I have faith in the Country to act,
They have witnessed mistakes made by others,
Yet never once did we mock them
For these are people- our sisters and brothers
I care deeply for this country,
So distance myself I may;
From the cruel internet entirely,
….Thats all I have to say…
……………………..Nomkhumbulwa
Mar 26, 2020
Mar 26, 2020 at 7:53 PM UTC
A journey from Soweto to Jozi have turned a suicide note,
Written like a poem through every inch the Shosholoza cover.
We survive anyway,
With the apartheid legacy written on our bleeding skins,
The rainbow nations I have seen are the slashes painted on my father’s skin.
Every day we survive crime, *** cancer and the brutality of our own negative thoughts.
Nov 24, 2018
Nov 24, 2018 at 5:17 AM UTC
For 21 days I saw changes wrought
by the freedom of 22 years
Secrets of razor wire straight and taut
Speak of those who continue to fear
I saw nature’s beauty in land and face
As black heel continues to rise
Via school, ambition they prep for the race
Even as secretly despised
What’s changed in Soweto? I did not live
But photos and newsreels survive
Pictures of shanties bulldozed to give
Whites room to extend their hives
Now malls; monuments to white retail
Built on Mandiba’s words
Polished chrome and marble hail
“Happy” workers in a black-faced world
Monuments ringed with vendors tribal
Carved goods for sale and cheap
The rands they make do not rival
What multi-nationals’ continue to reap
Happiness is shallow until sundown
When the curtain of decorum lifts
Showing reality’s new shanty-town
Where space and plumbing are gifts
I wonder if He would be okay
Seeing his people so used
As pawns for labor with little say
As black is seldom excused
The young know the time is now
As old hatred’s in shallow graves
To be unearthed by book and plow
Keeping dreams from stunting and fade
Oct 12, 2016
Oct 12, 2016 at 8:48 AM UTC