I saw a Zulu this morning...

''It was at seven in the morning when i saw this big black gentleman walk outside Mrs Grobler's house. He wore a black trouser, a white shirt which he folded over his arms and  he carried a back pack that looked heavy. I knew that moment that Mrs Grobler was in trouble. So immediately i rushed into the house to call the police. When i got back again to check the gentleman had left, when the police came it was too late. Oh God i feel sorry for Mrs Grobler she lived a sad lonely life now she is dead". Those were the words of eighty five year old Mrs Muller who was the only witness to testify to the murder of Allen Grobler a widow who was found dead in her home two hours ago. People all over the small town of Bloomberg had gathered around the deceased's property to catch a glimpse of what was happening. Her body was lying on the floor, she had been stabbed several times before her death. The freshness of her blood and a plate of scrambled eggs was evidence that the murder had occurred the exact time being mentioned by the witness. ''I saw the gentleman'' cried Mrs Muller. ''He was Zulu and big'' she said.

The place was now surrounded by sniffer dogs and a helicopter patrolling the town. Near by the town was a shanty town with lots of black people working in the mines and yes most of the man were big and Zulu. About five suspects had been held and were in custody. It was up to Mrs Muller to go and identify the black Zulu she saw in the morning. She had dressed up already and about to get into the police van when a lady screamed from a distance,"stop'' . ''Where are you taking her?' she asked. ''Sorry lady'' spoke the inspector, ''who are you and what relations do you have with Mrs Muller or the deceased?''. This old lady here is my mother and what deceased?'' she asked surprisingly. ''Your mother here is about to be the town's new hero, she is a witness to a murder that occurred two hours ago right here'' pointing at Mrs Grobler 's home.''Your mother claims..'' she intervenes the inspector before he had finished. '' With all due respect Mr Inspector, my mother has been blind for twenty five years. She has never seen the sun nor the color of her nose. I know what she told you. She said she saw a Zulu outside, big wearing  black pants, white shirt folded and heavy back pack. Yes, she has been singing that hymn since she got involved in an accident that left her husband dead.  I am sorry Mr Inspector for my mom to have wasted your time.

stories by the humming bird

written by Hawulethu Patrice Dube

a saxjaz7 production

all rights reserved

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Half a bucket of love.....

For thirty two years Maria Burgess lived with her husband Thomas Burgess a very rich man. Maria met Thomas thirty five years ago in a hotel where she worked in as a housekeeper. She was only twenty by then and in love with Alfred Jerkins Jr. Unlike Thomas, Alfred did not have a lot of wealth none the less Maria loved Alfred.On the 3rd of November 1845 Alfred got a job in the city and left he never wrote or came back again.Two years later Maria married Thomas.
It was on the eve of the Christmas of  1878 that Maria received news that Thomas had died.Her heart sank she was in pain she wished she had loved Thomas more. A year after Thomas's death while Maria was mourning, Alfred came back from the city. The love of her life had come back to life. All along she knew she had not given Thomas her whole heart, she lied to have loved him in the past thirty years.
A month later Alfred proposed to Maria who in turn was to reply through written later as per custom if one was a widow. After thirty two years in the city Alfred had managed to transform himself to a powerful man very wealth and respected, by no means he knew he still possessed a special place in Maria's heart.
After weeks of consideration and thought Maria replied to the marriage proposal.

My Dearest Alfred

With great joy and happiness i was glad to see you once again after thirty two years. You made me feel young again. You took me back into my first love, my first joy and of course my first kiss. I was sitting alone last night and i began to think of the passion we had when we were young. I remember very well the first night i slept outside my home , how early the following morning you carried me into my bedroom window. Later on today i met William you remember him?The old man that caught us making love for the first time in his corn field, yeah he is still alive. I would agree as a widow though not proud of it you the only man whom i fully gave my heart to.I never fully gave my husband Thomas my whole heart because often i hope that you would come back. I gave Thomas half a bucket of love which he took grateful with both hands and turned that into a field of happiness in my life while you took the whole bucket and disappeared. Yes we might have had our share of happiness when we were young but that was then. Now am a grown up woman i have tested love i have not loved and i have seen what love is. Go to the city again,come back after thirty two years maybe i will say yes to your proposal, for now i have given the last half bucket of love to my husband Thomas

Your friend Maria

love letters from Romeo.

written by Hawulethu Patrice Dube
a saxjaz7 production
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Viva your are a legend...Zonke Dikana

'I hear them say your name and i know you live in me. They 'd say ''viva he's a legend'',then i would smile and my mind would fly..viva you are a legend''. An inspiring song by Zonke Dikana. I know good songs and sweet melodies,well done albums that give you value for your money amongst them is Zonke 's album Ina ethe. Well known for hits like 'Feelings and Jik'izinto' the album is loaded with love and inspiring messages.
I recently bought her album after months of looking and not finding it. My policy is, when ever i buy or invest in anything i have to have value for my money. So i played the Cd everyday. The uniqueness of this album is that you fall in love with it the more you listen to it. One song i have fallen in love with is track 12 ''Sobabini'',one of those songs that just blow you off and burst in tears. To add on this is Zonke's emotional performance at Macufe festival 2012 that left fans asking for napkins.
With all songs written, composed, produced and arranged by Zonke there is indeed great talent about to explode to the whole world.
Growing up with her grandmother in the Eastern cape, a mother and at her early thirties there is a bright future for this singing sensation.

NO TO PIRACY BUY ORIGINALS

written by Hawulethu Patrice Dube
a saxjaz7 production
all rights reserved

@hawulethu

https://www.facebook.com/LoveInTheTimeOfXenophobia

Love in the time of Xenophobia

Act 1    

Scene 1

It is from the well that a village draws its life. It is from there also that early in the morning, woman meet to discuss what happened yesterday and possible predict what will happen today. Giving tomorrow its own turn when the sun rises again. There has been a lot of talk in the village, a lot of things have happened but the predominant issue is about the foreign mistress, Mukunda the teacher that bought her a bed and the rumour that Mukunda has fallen in love with a foreign lady. On stage are three women at the well.

 Woman 1

Woman of Barwa, what else do you know except to wake up at the witch’s hour leaving your half  dead husbands snoring like a roaring river after a mighty flood. Sneaking out every dawn the same way you snatched the heart of your man from the hands of a woman you knew she was twice better than you. Now in your lifeless life built out of selfishness what else can you do except to bewitch the poor man by the softness of your breast. Women of Barwa what else can you do except to talk about other people.

Woman 2

Oh!! The all wise maKhumalo, solve your life first before you try to be a solution to ours. You are old yet still selfish. You have four sons yet none of them you have allowed to marry. Why? Oh yes I know, who would want to share a broom with another woman. Go on maKhumalo marry your sons just like a chicken eats its own eggs.

Woman 3

Peace woman of Barwa, if we do not stand as sisters we will die as fools. Pulling each other in a hot pot, instead of allowing one of us to stand on top and pull us out of the fire. Slowly and surely we will escape the heat. Do no worry maKhumalo, have you not heard of the foreign mistress and her beauty? I think one of your sons might fall for her and eventually take away your reproach.

Woman 1

Never, not on my wrinkled body will any of my sons marry an alien. We have seen people eat monkeys and monkeys eat cats but we will never see a foreigner marry one of our children. Anyway who is this foreigner? 

Woman 2

Have you not heard?

Woman 1

Yes I have not heard.

Woman 2

Her name is Rachel. She was deployed by the education office to come and teach at our school. They say she is good. When she came her beauty fooled us we thought she was one of us. However hell broke loose.

Woman 1

How did people find out?

Woman 2

That is not what matters now. What matters now is that her beauty has not gone unnoticed.

Woman 1

What do you mean?

Woman 2

She has captured the heart of one of the teachers at school, Mukunda. It is said that despite warnings from fellow teachers Mukunda went on to buy a bed for the new mistress. He has been seen several times at the mistress place at night. I guess he wants to start a movement called love has no eyes it neither hears nor can smell.

(All laugh)

Woman 1

 You mean Mukunda, cousin to Mangi the gentleman to be ordained Chief.

Woman 2

Yes

Woman 1 
Pity of pities to Mukunda, what a wasted life, but his brother is a good man. We are all grateful for him. This land had gone for while without a chief and we really need him now.

Women 2  

Yes we do. People believe when Mangi comes he will order the retention of the teacher or even speak to education officer to transfer her.

 Woman 3

I know a story I heard it a long time ago, how love joined two nations. You cannot blame Mukunda for his deeds. Surely love has no eyes. It neither hears nor smells. When love takes over you forget who you are and realize that even foreigners are people like you. At least he has a heart to love.

Woman 1

Oh poor maNtuli your heart still bleeds for a man that left you years ago. People tell you everyday that Siziba is not coming back. They say he has married in the city. Surely love is blind to you.

Woman 3

I will not speak. Let me leave lest the sun sets on me at the well.

Woman 1

Yes woman of Barwa go home what else do you know, for tomorrow we shall meet again.

to be continued......

Love in the time of Xenophobia is play meant to reconcile the locals and foreign nationals existing in the same nation.

written by Hawulethu Patrice Dube

a saxjax7 production 

All rights reserved

@hawulethu on twitter

the humming bird.........

She had been stabbed twice. The first wound was on her chest close to the left breast. The second one was on her back signs that she was trying to run away. A trail of blood made its way to a pool of blood where the body was. On her left wrist were red marks most probably the killer held her hand tight before the killing. Two cups of coffee were found on the table. One was full, signs that it had not been touched the other was half empty. Red lipstick was on the half empty cup. I took a closer look at the body. The puzzle matched the half empty cup belonged to the murdered woman. The room was beautiful, small but decent for a single woman to lodge in. Two pictures hung on the wall. One of herself another of a female lion with an inscription it is the lioness that makes the kill. The window was open most probably kept open because of the beautiful view it provided and a cool summer breeze that entered the room. The room was on the third floor. A huge tree had one of its branches hanging almost inside the room with a humming bird on it. “It so beautiful’’ whispered one of the officers on the scene talking about the humming bird. ‘’It’s the first thing I saw when I came in.’’ it’s been almost three hours since the woman was found dead.

Two rooms sandwiched the woman’s room by chance there had to be a witness. The room on her right had a balcony while the one on her left had a room with a view slightly tilted to her room. If one would stretch her head she would see what’s happening next door. Surely there had to be witness. The killer was smart he left no trail or clues only for a full cup of coffee. After hours of analysis a officer came through with two witnesses. Both of them where neighbours one from the right and the other from the left.

‘’They both claim to have heard and seen something sir’’ spoke the officer.  On giving his statement the neighbour on the right said I heard some noise and a little scream. It was unusual of her to scream so I rushed to the balcony to see. I saw nothing, I stood there for a few minutes it was quiet. The only thing I saw was the humming bird it seemed to have a full view of what was happening. The neighbour on the left also gave her statement. I too heard a scream I was busy ironing so I leaned on the wall to hear what was happening I stood for a while hoping to hear voices but I did not. So I went to the window to check if I would see anything I leaned forward to have a view but I saw no one except for the humming bird that had a clear view of what was happening.

Stories by the humming bird

Written by Hawulethu Dube

a saxjaz7 production

all rights reserved

@hawulethu

dinner for six....

There was no money, the fridge was empty and it was a Sunday morning. We all woke up knowing the situation was bad. We did not go to church because there was no fuel enough to take us the whole week. We all just prayed in our beds hoping that Jesus would save us once again.

During the good all days papa and mama would drive us to the third avenue restaurant. I loved that restaurant not because of the waiter that always smiled at me but because of the big breakfast that took me to heaven. We asked for a table for six mum and papa close to each other. After saying grace Lilly would ask for a small mozochino. A cappuccino mixed with some chocolate and mash mellows. She loved that very much she would put a huge smile on her face and you would know surely the family is happy. Mama loved toasted cheese and a cafe latte while papa would order a half done egg with whole wheat toast. We all ate like a happy big family then wrap up the day with some movies or go to the theaters. I loved my family and I still do.

Its morning we all sitting at the sitting room, papa is in his room and mama is taking a shower. Later on mama joins us and we sit. Little Lilly ask "mama are we going for our mozochino today?" "Yes we are baby; papa is going to organize all that for us. I was 19 then and starting to grow some love for men. After a while Papa rocked in the room with a smile and says "okay its time for breakfast everybody up” He is the man we all stood up and rushed to the dining room. Wow I couldn’t believe my eyes. Papa had prepared a five star breakfast the same as that we normally had at my favorite restaurant. Everything was there specially made by him not forgetting the mozochino. Mama tightly squeezed my hand and said daughter marry a man like your father. 

                                                                                                         stories from the desk

written by Hawulethu Dube
A saxjaz7 production
All rights reserved

@hawulethu

The Obama effect.

‘Whether i earned your vote or not i have listened to you, i have learned from you and you have made me a better man’’. The words of the 44th President of the United States of America Barack Obama in his re-election victory speech.

Four years ago history has repeated itself. I remember waiting anxiously for the election results when Obama first went head to head with John McCain immediately after the announcement of the elections i looked for a tape so that i could record his victory speech. As the norm his speech was amazing, inspiring, filled with hope and a glimpse of light that all man can make it regardless of colour, stature or background. I too would like to congratulate Mitt Romney for putting up such a stunning contest.

Well the big question is how did he win? I am not American and i am far from being African American but whether you believe it or not the American election affects and impacts us all. After four years of governance i fell out of love with Obama. Given a chance to choose a president i would not have chosen him but would have voted for him a paradox indeed. I have loved some of his policies but envied most. I had great expectations that he would deliver differently and to some extent change his foreign policy which personally i have not seen any change.

I believe the reason why myself and some people stuck to Obama is because of the inspiring tale he has begun and by no means none of us was willing to let it end prematurely and uninspiring as it begun. It is the story of a black man that became a president against all odds. It is a story that regardless of your background or colour ''all of us can and will succeed if we believe''. It is for some of us that live in foreign lands a letter of hope telling us to keep believing we will make it in a foreign land.

Therefore I would like to say congratulations to  Michell and Barack Obama.

 

written by Hawulethu Dube
A saxjaz7 production
all rights reserved

@hawulethu