Thursday 2 November 2017

From Dusk To Dawn: A Black Feminist Symphony in 3 Parts. (1/3)

Part 1, Dusk:         "Solomon Mahlangu's Tree Is Bearing Rotten Fruits" - Lerumo La Badimo

Songwriter:                      Reamogetse

Strings:                            Evol

Drums:                             Badimo

Composer:                       Modimo

Backing Vocals:               Black Feminist Choir

Album:                             Uhuru

Producer:                          Lerumo La Badimo


/There is blood everywhere/ Black women and children are dying / Their deaths unnatural/

In South Africa the stench of fear permeates the air with undertones of blood and wifts of burnt women's bodies tenderized by fists and kicks and belts and extension cords and slaps and racist verbs in attack and stares... hateful stares that just a moment ago seemed loving. 

In South Africa it is not only hard to breathe if yours is a black woman's body but breathing itself is a chore that suffocates... you know that with each breath you fight for you are counting moments of survival… moments of survival before there WILL be another death, another rape, another suicide  and another beating… and another, and another, and another, hour after hour,and minute after minute there will be a fist, a rock, a bottle, a slap, a stare, a swear word, a penis, a kick, poverty, mental illness brutalizing yet another black woman's body... 

...and another's, and another's!




Love is the essence of who we are, the essence of what Freedom should feel like… as much as we painfully concede that many may have died for a little, their blood was worth much more… their dreams remain our dreams and so we also are willing to take up the fight in a new direction and ensure that in our lifetime… Solomon Mahlangu's tree of freedom starts bearing the right fruits. He told them to tell us that he loves us, and that the struggle must be continued, he said the tree of freedom he dreamt of would bear a thousand flowering seeds of freedom, instead we don’t feel love but hatred visited upon us, the struggle has long been abandoned by self serving former liberators turned state looters, aluta continua and we don’t even own the land upon which this tree can take root, be watered with the love he spoke of so that Uhuru can bloom thousands of times over!


             Passaggio:         

"As the CONDUCTOR instructs for the DRUMS to be played, the BACKING VOCALISTS weeping intensified, just as the surgeon's scalpel must slice and cut deeper and scrape the core of the wounds, the illnesses known as dis-eases in order to heal it completely as not to risk re-infection by being too gentle, too feeling when they ought to have been cold and emotionless, the drums too give us no easy comfort… their messages are filled with the tears of our ancestors… those who marched in 1956 and those who came before… 


Charlotte Maxeke's wail is heard at the sight of the toothless patriachy's princesses, anti-feminist organization She formed called the ANC Women's League… An organization that a living legend warrior woman in the form of Madikizela does not associate with anymore.  An organization that is now equivalent to tea ladies - abomama who only know how to worship at the phallic altar of abobaba - while at the same time stoning their children in the form of political stones while screaming BURN THE WITCH... BURN THE WITCH! after ubaba - umalume -  rapes his children!


Charlotte Maxeke's cry becomes more mournful and sorrowful, it rattles awake the bones of Mbuya Nehanda whose own weeping sounds like shrills of the type of cry that shreds to pieces your senses and rips the very heart out of its ribcage in order to blow some soothing air upon it, anything to stop the centuries old war on black bodies, black women's bodies that end up killed at the hands of those they seek to liberate… Nehanda cries in a song the ears refuse to hear, a cry that torments the spirit as her bones remind us "IT WAS MY OWN WHO BETRAYED ME!"




*And so we move towards Midnight…

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