they ask me who am i

they ask me who am i

smiling I glide to the floor and offer the following rendition to their inquisition

I am a young beautiful woman born to a mother
Who was beaten by the man she thought love her
A man who knew nothing of love and was never shaken by her
Raving tears
A man who was never loved, nurtured as culture suggested he be a man
Immune from emotional realization

I am a young women tortured by own kind
For loving the sway of my hips
And sternness of my arch

I am a confuses young woman
Trying to figure out
Why it is that the ones who claim to love you
Are the ones who hurt you the most

YET

I am an African woman
Who gives praise to the teaching of Qamata
ooRadebe…ooMthimkhulu…ooZulu…ooMashwabade abashwabadele iinkomo nempondo zayo
I give thanks to the mountains that decorate my existence with the forming clouds that water the greenery of my Africa
I love the seas that flow through my veins allowing me to realize my dreams
Of touching souls

From Martin Luther a descendant of my Africa
I learnt to dream
From Tata Mandela Ive learnt to forgive
From my mother ive learn patience and resilience
And today as I lay my steps one upon the other
I grace the world
With a remarkable sense of belief
That one day liberation will starts in our hearts
That consciousness will bread the art of self love

Because I was not there in 1976 to take to the streets to liberate my own
Or in 1956 to join the women to marched to the union building against segregation
My hero where housed by the ground before I could clinch their hands
And render THANKS

But I am here today
Dancing through life
With all its meaningful challenges
I decide to smile at all adversities
I am a friend to still water
And loyal to the mini-skirt regime
I am a youth destined for a life of glorious interventions
The Boom Shaka generation
Who work all day
Party all night
And praised GOD at ever turn
I am not apologetic of my opportunities
But thankful to those who made sure I got them

This is who I am
Call it pure physics
Luck
Fate
Destiny

I call it the life and times of Mihlali Gqada