My name is Tafi Mhaka. I am an avid writer and have a keen interest in all matters that touch the lives of poor and disadvantaged people as well the affluent classes of society. I live and work in the communications industry in Johannesburg. And I am a University of Cape Town alumnus.
Friday 2 December 2016
Ghettolicious Mama
The old steam railway track never made it to Section K
The shiny new highway went northwards to Section J and missed us by five long miles
The taxis stop on the very edge of town for fear of being robbed by the restless men in town
The local playground is a grimy mass of pitch black muddy waters and dense brown shrubs
The clinic is a flea infested room filled with a chair and table
And a grumpy old doctor who needs a fresh bath and a clean shave
The airy supermarket is a market for all the small-time traders in town
They will sell money to you for a quick buck if you let them
They will sell flesh to you for a quick release if you want one
They will sell bones to you for a quick meal if you are hungry
The supermarket has no freshly painted walls with posters advertising the latest products on sale
It has no stalls with beautiful tellers at your beck and call
It has no credit or credit card machine to lend you a hand in these hard times we live in
It is just a motley mix of familiar ghettolicious faces on the daily grind
It is a forest of old and used goods of dubious origins and destinations
A ramshackle market of rich unprofitable junk for the ghetto
The stench of money gone west is thick in the sharp-tasting air
The stench of money that never made it past the railway station on time emits a pungent smell that tinges the nostrils of the noisy dogs roaming the streets
The stench of lost dreams engulfs the surrealism of extreme poverty in Section K
The ghettolicious hustle is as real as hell on the hottest day on earth
You can taste the hustle in the mouth like a lemon ripe with tangy bitterness
You can see the struggle in the pockets of hope and despair lingering in vain on the worn out faces painting the ghettolicious landscape into a Picasso masterpiece
You can see the black resilience in the eyes of the children fighting against the tide of the curse of fate
In Ghetto Heaven people work hard for a rather tough living
In Ghetto Heaven people play hard to just to have a jolly good time
In Ghetto Heaven people live in hard times and good times for a living
This is Section K
Home of modern African kings and queens
Home to shipwrecked Caribbean kings and Queens
Home to the pretentious kings and queens of joy
Home to the anointed kings and queens of despair
Home to the future kings and queens of hope
Home to the kings and queens of textbook poverty
Oh Dear Lord I pray
I pray to you my Heavenly Father
Deliver us from Ghetto Heaven sweet Jesus
I did not smile on Friday
I did not jump for joy on Friday
No Black Friday in Ghetto Heaven
No Gucci specials in Ghetto Heaven
No Dolce and Gabana specials in Ghetto Heaven
No Louis Vuitton specials in Ghetto Heaven
No wearing Prada in Ghetto Heaven
No Apple niceties in Ghetto Heaven
No Android niceties in Ghetto Heaven
No strawberry milkshakes in Ghetto Heaven
No double cheese burgers in Ghetto Heaven
No French caviar in Ghetto Heaven
Help me Dear Lord
She is screaming at the top of her voice again
She is screaming in a piercing high-pitched voice
She is screaming violently like a fifth rate version of Kelly Rowland
She is screaming like Michelle K in utter distress
She is annoying the hell out of Ghetto Heaven
The lady in the dishevelled bachelor flat upstairs is screaming at black heaven again
She is screaming at the feisty black cat for it is killing the huge rodents that live in this rat hole of a ghetto
She is screaming at the polite and chatty ice cream vendor for selling low fat sugar free chocolate ice cream
She is screaming at her son who has not been home for six whole months for he hates to cross the old railway track
She is screaming at her brother who left his wife for a woman who lives on the other side of the railway track
Uncle Kay stares at the wall as Ghettolicious Mama yells at him
Uncle Kay never speaks to Ghettolicious Mama
He never speaks to other people at all
He speaks to himself though in animated fashion for hours on end
Uncle Kay went to war for five years in the Congo
When he came back from the war his wife had a set of 2-year-old triplets he knew nothing about
Uncle K had a job at a factory in town two and a half years ago
But he lost his job to a modern factory machine made in Fresno in California
He had a lovely wife once to hold in his arms
But he lost her to a man named Franco
After Franco found about the set of triplets
Now she is screaming at the mechanic who has been fixing her car for six months and keeps asking for more money to get it fixed
She is screaming at her 23 year old boyfriend who refuses to wear condoms if he is drunk on moonshine liquor
For she is a bootylicious cougar in this lit up black heaven of mine
She is 34 and feening for that big-time ghetto hustle in a million ways
And she is a notorious screamer my black brother
Ghettolicious Mama is yelling again
She is yelling at the girls playing Hopscotch in between dirt-filled potholes in the road for they are making such a din
She is yelling at the teenage boys sipping a homemade brew in the bushes behind her flat for they are peeping Toms staring at her in the shower
She is yelling at her daughter for playing Chance the Rapper all night long
She is shouting at her daughter for blowing Cocoa Butter Kisses to the boy next door through the broken window in the living room
She is shouting at her daughter for wearing a bomb ass black leather mini-skirt to a sleazy slumber party in town
She is reprimanding her daughter for smiling and waving at the shady nihilistic man in flat number 29
She is reprimanding her daughter for sexting naked selfies to the hedonistic married man who lives in flat number 29
She hollers at her daughter for having a baby at the age of 17
She hollers at her boss for not dropping a little more dough into her small pay packet
She hollers at the sweet-tongued snake of a man who got her to drop out of high school just after she turned fifteen
She looks at the rent bill for this month that is on her brown damp bed of a sofa
Her landlord is a fool she hisses as she spits into the rusty kitchen sink
She swears at the heavens above for bringing her into this life of bittersweet hardship
No meat for supper
No tomatoes for gravy
No vegetables for roughage
No formula for the baby
No dollars for a six pack of Heineken
No pennies for three smokes
Her landlord is a mighty fool she hisses again
Living in black heaven should cost her nothing but pain and distress
Living in black heaven is not a champagne-filled Christmas party
You do not get a chance to say thank you for the invitation
You do not get to RSVP and politely decline the offer
When Black Heaven calls you up for the first time
When Black Heaven says your name for the first time
When Black Heaven picks your name from the grand lottery of sheer misfortune
Smile and say black cheese: You have won a fully paid up subscription to a lifetime of ghettolicious melodrama
Drama as the teenage mama screams at her thin little girl for crying
Drama as the sickly child cries all day in the hope Black Heaven sends her an angel
A guardian angel to lift her out of this gutter of mad hopelessness she has been born into
Drama as her change of nappies takes a day and half to get done
Drama as the famished child cries all night for whole milk formula instead of sugary H2O.
Drama as the unloved child cries all night for something warm
Drama as she yearns for a warm kiss in the bitter cold of the night
Drama as she dreams of a warm hug in the throes of deep hunger
Drama as she dreams of a warm rug to hide her soft black skin from the lusty mosquitos buzzing around her little arms and legs
So the child cries for her mother
But the seventeen-year-old mother is busy
She has a bottle of Viceroy and a litre of Coke to finish tonight
So the black child cries in Black Heaven
Teenage Mama has a box of smokes to light up by the balcony and get that nicotine flowing in her little system
So the black child cries in Black Heaven
Teenage Mama has a fat ghettolicious blunt filled to the brim with fresh Malawi Gold to calm her frail nerves and light up her night
So the black child cries in Black Heaven
Teenage Mama has needs to satisfy in this ghettolicious life
So she sneaks off to see the married man in flat number 29
The child in Black Heaven cries out for her teenage mama
Teenage mama cries out in ghettolicious pleasure in flat number 29
Her boyfriend is not of much help to her
He is a ghetto-fabulous star in town
His demeanour is all ghetto-fabulous all day long
Black Heaven calls him Gotta Go
Gotta Go is the name he goes by in Black Heaven
He drives a pimped out ghetto-fabulous 1974 red Cadillac
And he drives a ghetto-fabulous black Range Rover with tinted windows and silver 24s
He is 27 and hustles full-time for a living that pays the lights
He is a busy man in this town
He has places to go to all the time
Like he has got to see his girlfriend all the time
Which girlfriend my brother?
The tall slim African queen in flat number 37?
No he is dishing her up on the side my brother
So she is on the right side of things for him
Is it the light skinned beauty in flat number 16?
No her man is hustling for Benjamins and blood diamonds in the Congo
So she just needs a little love and some ghetto loving from Gotta Go now and again
Is it the hot cutie in flat number 7?
No she has a heart for queens
She does not like him that much
But she is his queen too
Is it the chick in flat 14?
The long-haired pretty girl from Section J?
No my brother
Remember his game?
If he loves a girl for one romantic night only and she falls pregnant
He has got to go
If he promises you a good deal for something and cons you out of five thousand dollars
He has got to go
If you leave your door unlocked at night
Your ghettolicious Samsung HD TV has got to go
If he asks you for a ride to town
Your new ride has got to go with him
If he helps your grandmother move the furniture
Her money has got to go with Gotta Go
Whatever he does in the dark of the night in Section K
Wherever he goes at all ungodly hours in Section K
He has got to go with something from Section K
That is his ghettolicious hustle
And this is the home of Ghettolicious Mama
This is Section K
This is Khartoum
This is Kigali
This is Kingston
This is Kisangani
This is Kismayo
This is Kisumu
This is Kitwe
This is Katutura
This is Khayelitsha
This is Kwekwe
This is Kinshasa
This is Kampala
This is Kadoma
This is Kaduna
This is Kabwe
This is Kano
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