there was never a thin line.....Part1

After two days of waiting and mourning once again that my father did not win his lottery bet again, the winner was announced. It was Mr Richard Growler from Houghton. Yes, Houghton, You know Houghton that suburb you pass before entering Yeoville.   Where people that can afford to play golf and fly to Paris for holiday three times a year live. On top of the millions that Growler had he added another 25million. A lot of questions ran in my head, how could someone already rich win the lottery? Why not a poor guy from Soweto or a blind beggar from Vosloo? I am pretty sure the long lotto queues are found in the Township but it’s the rich that win. I thought of writing a letter to the President asking him to consider introducing the BEE (Black Economic Empowerment) system when betting the lotto. But I was pretty sure that he would fail me considering the fact that the GUPTAS are not BLACK.

There is no justice in this world, we claim to fight for equal rights but in truth none of those are equal. We give gays and lesbians rights but every year they still complain and march for other rights. Women get empowered but are raped and abused every second. We vote for a government and in turn it starves the people like ZANU PF.

I was sitting one day at my home, analyzing the life of my neighbour. My father was not a rich man; we only had one meal a day and had to visit friends in between just to make it through to the evening meal.  We tried growing fruits in our yard but against nature and the gods of the earth all the trees died.  My mother was a very kind woman, though we had little she was willing to share with the whole community. However on the contrary, my neighbour was the exact opposite of my peeps. He was a rich man (which I do not care about) he had enough food and money to take his kids to good schools (which I do not mind because I managed to pass regardless of the nature of the institute I was in). Only one thing disturbed me, and I still ask God this question. How come my neighbour’s yard had a big mango tree that always gave fruits in its season? Honestly those kids did not need a mango tree. They had four meals a day not counting snacks in between.  The mango tree would produce fruits and no one would eat them. Remember this family was rich and not willing to share. The moral of the story is, good things come to bad people while bad things always happen to good people.

So after reading this should we blame Vavi for having sex in his office with a married female colleague? I wonder. There was never a thin line line between the rich and poor, it was an ocean apart.                                                          

                                                                                                                                  To be cont.....

Written by Hawulethu Patrice Dube

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