Friday, 2 November 2007
I am not a talkative person even though some people dispute that. Sometimes I go crazy and Tuesday morning was one of those days. I was listening to Bad boy T (Thomas these days) and his crew on Metro fm. They always play a feel good classic song just after 06h00 clock. They play nice old songs both local and international. This Tuesday as I was driving towards Jozi they the played Victoria Wilson James’ woman of colours and spontaneously I heard myself shouting oooooohhh umfazi wamabalabala (woman of colours) of course this song reminded me of good times and bad times. The year was 1992 and booze, dagga and all that goes with it (including crime) was the order of the day. Naledi extension and Zola (SOWETO) were the place to be I remember my friends, Rubber, CharlieMingus, Montana unfortunately not all of us made it to where I am now, we use to rule December (Dezemba in township lingo ) When we entered any shebeen an LP or a cassette of Victoria Wilson James “woman of colours” must be ready because it was our song or else we are leaving. That is the year my son was born, it is also the year that I lost my brother and later my best friend. My friend left with Snyman (the guy who sells dagga and drugs) and never came back until his badly decomposed body (to put mildly) was found at the nearby school by druggies who made school their safe heaven at night. 1992 was the beginning of my life because at the end of the year I changed my life around to who I am today a responsible person. But that was the year to remember... where were you?
Posted by Muzi at Friday, November 02, 2007