Читать книгу Dog Eat Dog - Niq Mhlongo - Страница 12

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death I fear no evil

I lay on my single bed, under the full glare of a dazzling bulb reflected from the white ceiling, reading the sticker on the door of my wardrobe. The ink had faded away on the third line and all that was legible were the words ‘Psalms’ and ‘David’. But I knew from my religious education at primary school that the words were taken from the Good Book, Psalm 23 of King David. We used to be forced by our teachers to memorise the psalms that were prescribed in our Bantu (Blacks Are Nothing To Us) syllabus. Because of that my head is still heavy and addled with the psalms like a traveller’s jumbled suitcase.

I was alone in my room at the Y as my roommate Dworkin hadn’t come back the previous evening. I guessed he was out jolling, as ladies were never allowed in the residence except those employed by the Y authorities to do the laundry for us.

I had woken up at five o’clock that morning and taken a long warm bath. Since I knew that I was naturally not an early riser I had arranged with Dunga the day before to come and wake me up at half past six. We had planned to be at the Braamfontein Civic Centre by seven o’clock to vote. But that morning I didn’t need Dunga to wake me, I was too excited about voting for the first time.

By half-past six I was getting more and more impatient. I thought that if we left immediately, as arranged, we would arrive there earlier than everyone as it was only about five minutes’ walk from the Y to the Braamfontein Civic Centre.

In order to kill time while I waited for Dunga I was finishing off the last chapter of Animal Farm by George Orwell. I still enjoyed the story although I can’t recall how many times I had read it previously. It had been one of my favourite prescribed novels when I was still doing standard nine in the late 1980s. As I read I could hear a Zulu struggle song being sung outside my window.

UMandela uthimay’hlom’	(Mandela says let the warriors get ready)
Yebo may’hlom’	(Yes let’s get ready)
USisulu uthimay’hlomihla sele	(Sisulu says let the warriors be ready for the battle)
UDe Klerk asimfun’	(We don’t want De Klerk)
Yebo asimfun’	(Yes we don’t want him)
Siyaya. Wemkhonto we sizwe epitori, yebo may’mhlome	(We’re going. You the spear of the nation in Pretoria, yes let’s be ready for the battle)

There was the sound of whistling and the rhythmic beat of clapping hands and stamping feet from the crowd coming down Rissik Street. They were on their way to the Civic Centre.

‘Bopha, comrades! Stop, comrades!’ shouted a voice from the crowd, probably the leader.

Phansi ngo De Klerk phansi!	(Down with De Klerk down!)
Phansi!	(Down!)
Phansi ngo De Klerk phansi!
Phansi!
Phambili ngoMandela phambili!	(Forward with Mandela forward!)
Phambili!
Phambili ngoMandela phambili!
Phambili!
Phambili ngomzabalazo phambili!	(Forward with the struggle forward!)
Phambili!
Phambili ngomzabalazo phambili!
Phambili!
Viva ANC Viva!
Phansi ngamabunu phansi!	(Down with the whites down!)
Amandla!	(Power!)
Awethu!	(To the people!)

I was watching the crowd and enjoying the rhythm from my window. The crowd passed and I walked towards the white bookshelf that was mounted on the wall. I put the copy of Animal Farm on top of my other books: Amah’s The Beautyful Ones Are Not Yet Born, Down Second Avenue by Prof Es’kia Mphahlele, Richard Wright’s Black Boy and Steve Biko’s I Write What I Like and many others.

I sat back down on my bed and began to remember how, when I was at primary school, my teachers used to rely on me to perform poetry for our parents during functions such as parents’ day, and during the visits by the school inspector. Because of my ability to memorise words, I was often asked to stand before a crowd and entertain them by reciting poetry from our school syllabus. All Things Bright and Beautiful was my favourite English poem. For Afrikaans I used to do Muskiete Jag, though I only found out the meaning of the poem when I was in high school. Luckily, it was recited to our parents, who didn’t really understand what was going on. However, after each performance the performer would be praised for having a good command of the language by the assembled parents.

Before each performance took place we would practise each step of the performance under the supervision of our English teacher until he was satisfied that we were ready to appear on stage. Even to this day I still remember each gesture to All Things Bright and Beautiful. For example, where it says ‘All creatures great and small’ we were taught to use our hands to indicate ‘great and small’. Where the line reads ‘All things wise and wonderful’ we would tap our right index finger against our heads to gesture ‘wise’, and for the word ‘wonderful’ we would spread our hands wide with a smile on our lips. We would then point to the horizon with the same index finger for ‘The Lord God made them all’, with the palm of our left hand spread under our left breast to show our appreciation of everything that The Man Upstairs had done for us.