There was a young teenage boy who came 4rom a small n insignificant family. His story begins when The King made n announcement 2 all the ppl of His Kingdom 2 cum join His army, 2 fight against the enemy n his armies. Since there wasn’t much happening in the village, he decided 2 respond 2 the call n he joined the army. He was fascinated n in awe of the order, organisation, discipline, unity n confidence he saw when he first arrived @ the soldier’s camp. He so desired 2b like the soldiers dt he was determined 2 learn as much as he could, whatever it took. Two of the army generals stood out 4 him n he would eventually b part of their military unit. They became mo dn just army Generals but mentors, teaching him all dt he needed 2 know 2 survive in the battle fields. The battle would last longer dn he had anticipated; meaning he would spend most of his youth in the field engaging with the enemy in a fierce battle. During ds period he developed discipline, aggression, intelligence n he became fearless. He became one of the commanders in the army; even the enemy knew n feared him. He became a hero in the village but all ds came @ a cost; he lost most of his youth, lost friends n had 2 spend limited time with his family. Then one day he wrote a letter 2 The King expressing his desire 2b released 4rom the army. He went on 2 explain how he had sacrificed 4 the Kingdom n also expressed his appreciation 4 the opportunity he was given 2b part of the army. All dt he now desired was the chance 2 enjoy the fruits of his labour n sacrifices 4 a change. After all, he did spend his entire youth serving The Kingdom, making sure dt his people enjoyed peace n prosperity. As expected the news didn’t go down well in the camp, his knowledge n fearless attitude did make a difference. But like in all life, everything has its time. It was his time to 4cus on personal battles. Well, as expected, adapting 2 the nu life was not going 2b easy. All he knew was fighting the enemy in the battle fields. In ds newly found life he was a nobody, he didn’t command respect like he did in the battle fields, neither was he experienced nor knowledgeable. His peers where way ahead of him. It was going 2b tough 4 the not so young man, but knowing him, u could bet ur last money dt he would eventually get to grips... Well, ds is a beautiful story n I relate 2 it, the reason is bcuz I’m the young man. In ds book I hope 2 teach n share my experiences on how I survived in the battle fields of my life. Hoping dt the lessons I’ve learned will help u survive the personal battles of ur life. I’ve learned dt life is not for the faint hearted, not 4 sissies*, n dt no matter how difficult it can be, we can still make wise choices 2 overcome the challenges. We are always presented with opportunities 2 change both our lives n those of the ppl we care about 4 the better. *Sisies> Softies INTRO: ‘If u have a run way already prepared 4u, take off. If u don’t, know dt it is ur responsibility 2 take up the shovel n make one 4 urself n those coming behind u.’ - by Amelia Earhart 1 CHAPTER 1 ‘Is there anyone who would like 2 receive Christ as their personal saviour? To all those who hv raised their hands, could u take the next step by joining me @ the front so we can pray 4u.’ BROUGHT UP BY THE STREETS Yep, there I was, Super Guluva* standing in front with my hands raised. No tears 2day, just a conscious decision, they will b coming much later as the years go by. I’ve learned over the yearz ukuthi; ‘Indoda ayikhali’*. The last time I shed tears my father’s hands where firmly holding my neck while I looked into his without blinking, sending him a strong message; ‘The reason ur doing this is bcuz ur bigger dn me!’. That would b the last time I allowed anyone to manhandle me without serious consequences. The next time sum Kasi* Guluva did dt, they spent a month lying in a hospital bed, one finger crippled n his ego @ the bottom of the nearest dustbin. Let me give u a brief description of ds Super Guluva before dz life changing events. I was born 2 years after the Soweto youth uprising @ Natalspruit hospital, apparently with 12 fingers. I grew up on the dusty streets of the East Rand n its on dz streets where I fell in love with the beautiful game of soccer n where the soccer ball became my best friend. My friend would never leave my presence. He’d b there in the morning when I woke up n there again when I went 2 sleep @ nite n bcuz of our friendship I got my street trade name; ‘Six to six’. Soccer remains my first love n I’m alwayz looking 4wad 2 the best *hhayi khona madoda> Phrase; No wayz man *ikota> Meal made of quarter of bread and filled with fried chips and other variety of food inside. *amarwayza> Wild seeds 2 soccer match on the planet, the Soweto Derby, it is food 2 my footballing soul. I just love the electric atmosphere n I’m a Khosi 4 life.*Smiling# Most of my friends eKasi still call me by dt name to ds day n I don’t mind. It is a constant reminder of where I cum 4rom. The truth is, It is not easy 2 get a respectable trade name on the streets so, once u get one u must represent iKasi @ all times, wherever u go. Plus it also counts who hs given u the name as well, mine was an endorsement 4rom one of the Super Guluvaz @ my street where I used 2 spend most of my time hanging with the older guyz. They were teaching me the street trades. On my street, where I grew up, most of the guyz had spent time in prison n most for hard core crimes. We boasted of 4 guyz who were specialists in Cash in Transit heists. Imagine dt, in one street? tjo...! I was given my trade name by one of those specialists. So I had 2 carry myself with pride, whether I was playing soccer or getting involved in street fights, I had 2 cum out tops n most of the time I alwayz did n I felt like a true representative yaseKasi. The guyz were proud of me, I was earning my trade name, but sadly he was shot dead during one of their operations.*Sad# Growing up in a 4 roomed house with cousins n uncles @ my Granny’s was a lot of fun n since my parents would leave in the morning n cum back @ nite, it meant I would b practically brought up by the streets, brought up by dz older Super Guluvaz. I learned the street life @ a young age. Honestly, I never enjoyed spending time with my peers, u would alwayz find me with the older guyz, listening n asking questions, eager 2 learn. They also seemed 2 enjoy having me around n xplaining all dz things I was curious about. I started smoking dagga @ 8 yearz n if it wasn’t 4 time spent on the dusty soccer fields I wonder what ada activities I would hv learned? Soccer would save me 4rom ada criminal activities n jail time, well, at least 4 that moment. Skul was never my strong point n I was not the brightest. I didn’t really care much about my grades as long as I passed the standards. All I was 3 concerned about was the soccer games n beating the opposing team, dt was my passion. I played soccer every chance I got; b4 classes started in the morning I was already on the skulz soccer field, during lunch breaks u’ll definitely find me on the field, I was also the last one 2 leave the skulz premises, still kicking the ball on my way home. Even @ nite u’ll still find me playing soccer, most of the time by myself. I developed skillz, ball control n the aggression 4 winning, I wanted 2 win @ all costs even when playing against older boyz, I just wanted 2 win! I was eating n drinking soccer, it was my life! However, I guess like most of us growing up eKasi without proper guidance n support, my dream would eventually cum 2 nothing.*Disapointed# The year is 1990 n skulz r closed. A typical day for two skul boyz who r best friends. 2day we r not stealing fruits 4rom our neighbour’s trees or catching birds in the veld, we r just playing soccer @ the dusty street opposite the men’s hostel. Suddenly......*Gun shots#, all over the place and increasing noise of voices shouting battle cries. We r actually caught in the middle of a tribal, soon 2b political, battle between Zulu speaking hostel dwellers n expelled Xhosa speaking dwellers. I had never seen so many men armed to the teeth like this b4 n it didn’t make sense to two 12 year olds whose only interest on dt day was 2 play soccer n enjoy dz precious skul holidayz on the streets. We managed 2 quickly get 2 my friend’s house which was few metres 4rom where we were playing n fortunately the door was not locked, shoooo...*Close shave#. The gun shots n loud cries outside would last for mo dn 2 hours n the results of ds day changed the direction of ordinary ppl in the township n all over South Africa. This event would prompt my mother 2 risk her life just 2 cum get me n my sister to a place she n my dad had just bought. This new house would b my home, a place of safety. I spent the next 5 yearz without visiting my Gran’s place n I would never step into a hostel again in my life. The pictures of dead ppl on the streets, in toilets n almost everywhere
Posted on: Mon, 05 Aug 2013 19:10:12 +0000