cultureconsciousyouth

It’s happenin again

mukelwa hlatshwayo — Tue, 10 Jul 2007 10:15:20 +0000

We used to watch this programme back in the day called the “phat joe show” ( I think) .We then used to use this line over and over again to sound cool and trendy.Then again we used to think writing songs in a song book was also cool.In retrospect, it wasn’t so cool.But the cool thing about looking back is that things don’t seem as bad as they did when you were in that time.If it didn’t seem that bad- it seems really bad when you look back at it.

I promised myself I would not be one of those nostalgic people who say high school and childhood was better then being older.I would like to gather experiences that teach me and make me grow in ways I could only dream of. I am sure I sound like a walking cliche , a victim of circumstance and cold feetedness.I know to better than a victim-to rise above it and look to a bright future.Positivity hurts when all looks and feels dull.

None the less I do know that one day it will be “happenin again”.Everybody has a battle to conquer in life and this is my insurmountable mountain to face.I have nothing less to lose but my very own life- however if I don’t do this , it will be as good as lost anyway.

Big Breaks… Discover me somebody

mukelwa hlatshwayo — Thu, 28 Jun 2007 09:25:50 +0000

Its yet another cold day in Jozi.I am reminded of my school days when I thought the reason we went to school in winter was a punishment for being children.For things we might still do which could be bad- OK a bit far fetched but I was a kid and I am pretty sure that this in the bigger picture made perfect sense.

Kind of like the way one may imagine their chances of having a big bite of the corporate pie.BEE came, BBEEE came and people like me still feel cheated.Not because we sit on our divine behinds waiting to be handed a token position,But rather that we keep knocking on all doors both proverbial and real but the keep getting slammed back in our face.

It would be nice to have the freedom to choose to do what my heart loves to do,sadly my social dynamics are such that, it is not yet possible.” Think big, don’t give up, knock on every door”,Ye ye I know its what I have been doing.I have the shattered knuckles to prove it.Its not easy wanting to be somebody you know you can be, you know you should be but…

Nonetheless life must go on.Each day should have a challenge to overcome to bring one closer to their destiny-when is my turn coming I ask.

The food of love

mukelwa hlatshwayo — Wed, 27 Jun 2007 12:14:12 +0000

Music is a universal language yet it can also be a very personal expression.I think I must have fallen in love with Tracey Chapman from my mother’s belly.I grew up listening to her songs and more often than not I suffered ridicule from my friends for liking her.Most people don’t understand why Tracey sounds the way she does.Even her love song make her sound like a sadist because of the melancholic way she expresses herself.

Tracey ‘s music is the perfect example of a universal message.She sings about social issues prevalent in any and every society.She cuts deep to the heart of hidden agendas exposing what most people may know but not want to talk about.I wish to one day interview her on why she writes and sings the way she does although I think her answer to that question is not as important as how she answers it.This woman in DEEP or maybe just experienced with no puns intended. Totally feel her!

Urban Native

mukelwa hlatshwayo — Wed, 27 Jun 2007 11:16:05 +0000

The great minds of our time have concluded that culture is not a set of rules run by protocol; rather it is a dynamic concept run on the same pulse as any given society at any given time. Unlike tradition, culture really is open to interpretation. Growing up, my parents were staunch traditionalist and even though the 90’s came and went, they stood steadfast in ways carved at the beginning of the century.

Consequently I, along with my two siblings were the victims of this. Don’t get me wrong, I value the traditions of my people but I also value my sense of being in this day and age. Without throwing them aside, there are some rules I am going to bend or maybe even break. But incase, I do not make it through my parents torturous grilling about the importance of tradition this week-it has been real.

Tradition is important to the identity of the urban youth. Tradition is stereotypically thought to be strictly Africa, however, Europeans, and white South Africans also have tradition. Defining tradition is not easy but I can say it is relative to a certain group of people then it can even differ per family. While one family can be very strict on lobola payment, another can simply view it as a formality. The significance lies in the respect or acknowledgement given to the practice. It should serve as a reminder of our roots and heritage.

Moreover in this day, who is to say what is the right way, we have been divided by space and time, there is no real traditional council. Various customs from individual groups have become condensed with the move of people from rural areas to the urban areas. Let us use our traditional ways not to enforce a sense pf tribal authority but rather to augment the culture is comes from. Now that culture is ubuntu.Ubuntu is timeless, it’s like a universal law.

AJEEB

mukelwa hlatshwayo — Fri, 22 Jun 2007 11:06:13 +0000

AJEEB

The Movement Begins

mukelwa hlatshwayo — Wed, 20 Jun 2007 14:19:54 +0000

Date : 30 June 2007

Venue: 123 Dawnpark Ext.

Time: 17h00 till late

Damage: R10.00 before 21h00.R20 after

Dress Code: Semi-formal

Line Up: D-Soul,Syntax,Zinyo,Koti

Dictum of an Empowered Generation

mukelwa hlatshwayo — Wed, 20 Jun 2007 14:19:09 +0000

In light of this being youth month, I had anticipated a plethora of blogs stating a potential way forward away from the past into a future where the youth can take charge of their lives and overcome this pandemic called AIDS. Sadly I have not seen or read one (perhaps there are some posts).

Yesterday I saw a cartoon depiction of the hector Peterson photo when he was being carried away with the girl on the side, it was labeled 1976.IT was then juxtaposed by one labeled 2007 where the boy they are carrying has not been shot but has merely blacked out from too much drinking. The girl is lighting up a cigarette and the other guy finding it all amusing. This is how an artist has depicted this now generation; Substance abusers living like rebels without a cause hence we are said to have fallen from the glory of the youth of yesterday. This is across the board because drugs and alcohol are not a problem exclusive to one society or people.

They call us empowered when they put grapes near enough so we can smell them but not taste them. Introducing commissions and resolutions to address the issues at the heart of our social struggle.They tell us we have all the opportunities regardless of color or creed yet I see only the well connected sitting in corner offices with a view to heaven.

They call us empowered them who wait to approve a bill, rename a renamed building before listening to my growling tummy, overtaken by hunger pangs. They say we are lucky because we can go to school, yet what kind of education can I buy with my R2, 50 for that is the only thing separating me and poverty.

Today they say we will forge ahead and overcome insurmountable mountains, they feed our desire to hope with speeches at public meetings before cameras equipped with eloquently written scripts about how we rise and rise and rise. Then they feed us cheese on white bread and send us home to wait for transformation.

I blame capitalism; I blame the brainwashed human activist who believes keeping people from work will make those in power listen. Their arms are only twisted by rands and cents; they only listen to those who speak in rands and cents.

What hope is there for an empowered generation disempowered by the same institution preaching “free at last, hope and freedom has come”…

What hope is there for generation cut off in its prime by the death poverty brings.

A day in the life of a wannabe

mukelwa hlatshwayo — Mon, 18 Jun 2007 13:32:55 +0000

When one is still in high school, the world seems to be waiting for you to embrace it with your presence. It’s like everything you have ever dreamed of will fall into place. In your mind you make room for disappointment or delays and maybe even failure but hen your plan B always works out.Reality was a rude and cruel awakening for me. Plan A and Plan B just did not work out leaving me in a dark and sore place. It’s even worse when one has only themselves to depend on. The rest of the people are simply onlookers who give advice on things they themselves could never ever do, yet feel if the were in your shoes, could do it much better.

The dreams I had in highs chool and childhood began to haunt me, not knowing whether giving up would be less painful than having to face my old friends and have them ask me whatever happened to my fighting spirit. When adult hood crept in, it brought with it the winter of reality, cold and long and unforgiving. Things were never meant to turn out like this. I was gonna be a star and save people’s lives.If you could see me now sitting behind some lonely desk doing sweet nothing, spending each day accomplishing nothing and watching my life go by-this is just a typical day in the life of a want to be, could have been but has not been yet…?