Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
#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.
0
Nov 17, 2025
Nov 17, 2025 at 6:11 AM UTC
My Beautiful Violent Country
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.
Continue reading...
81
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 **
0
Aug 20, 2020
Aug 20, 2020 at 11:28 AM UTC
Ke ya Ikhutsa.....
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 **
Continue reading...
66
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
0
Mar 26, 2020
Mar 26, 2020 at 7:53 PM UTC
Rethinking myself....
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
Continue reading...
65
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.
0
Nov 24, 2018
Nov 24, 2018 at 5:17 AM UTC
South Africa (Jozi-Soweto)
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
0
Oct 12, 2016
Oct 12, 2016 at 8:48 AM UTC
SOUTH AFRICA - POST APARTHEID