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
a saxjaz7 production
all rights reserved
follow me @hawulethu
email: saxjaz7@yahoo.co.uk
