I have a yearning to be taken back to those warm, magical eKasi moments of yesteryear.
Nothing can beat those old magical township moments.
Do you remember the times when only one household owned a television set and we all lined up paying 5 cents to watch hilarious sitcoms such as Sgud’ Snaysi.
But first we had to rush to our houses to wash our feet before we would be allowed inside.
I’m talking about the time when Saturdays used to be bioscope nights.
The action-packed evenings as we imitated our favourite action stars such as Bolo Yoeng and Bruce Lee on our way back to our homes.
When every afternoon our local halls would be packed with musicians, poets, instrumentalists and dancers rehearsing for upcoming events – and not forgetting karate and boxing groups.
Township life where, apart from politics, art and sport were the heartbeat of the community.
The thrilling soccer tournaments in which players played barefoot, the magical pantsula dancers and those chanting sounds of gumboot dance groups.
The choral music competitions where locals opened the gates of heaven with their angelic voices.
The afternoon walks to buy amagwinya (vetkoek), polonie and homemade ice blocks.
The red lips we had after spending afternoons sucking raspberry ice blocks and the beatings we received after they stained our school shirts.
The sound of that old ice cream truck we used to run after even when we didn’t have money to buy anything.
The festivities, games and, of course, family – those aunts and uncles who worked in big cities and only returned home for special occasions.
You know, the ones who came back home and used to brag about the city.
How can I forget the story telling sessions as we used to seat around the fire exchanging stories.
Sundays we used to show off our new clothes in church – well in my case, my brother’s old clothes.
During the Christmas period we would sing songs, surrounding the Christmas tree with cheer and light candles – probably the only time we were allowed to handle fire.
I still cherish those memories and wish I can go back to that magical time.
I want to drink those colourful soft drinks that left our tongues and lips red – and then play indigenous games until dark.
My heart weeps when now, as an adult, I see how the township magic has been lost.
Young people only consume alcohol and smoke their lungs out like there is no tomorrow.
And sadly, sometime there is no tomorrow.
Liquor shops and shady merchants is now where the magic is. People do not have that old spirit of ubuntu – there is no more brotherhood.
I long for those old days and I’m still searching for the way back to that magical eKasi feel.
The place of stars, the dark city was always bright with magic.
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