RaDical MiDDle - ColdType

66 | denis beckett
there was a sponsored combi, and then another, and then the
combis were crashed and the bickering drowned the sounds of
industry and Ntsizi – and more particularly his wife Seipati –
were slipping out of kilter.
One day I found a bag on my doorstep. It had a figurine
of an old man on his haunches holding a stick, and a letter
from Ntsizi: he was fine, he was in Kenya, (no address), he was
working for the aNc. “May God bless you and Geal and new
waited member of family. Be a male – conquer in struggle. Be a
female – ambassader of liberation.”
That upset me. Ntsizi belonged here. He was making South
africa work. He belonged with the guys who, like Swift said, get
two blades of grain to grow where one grew before. Distortions
had driven him away, distortions had messed him up. What
dumb distortions we had. Would they end when times changed,
or just change shape?
It wasn’t only Ntsizi. There were beautiful people. I quote you
one random letter, in full, from chabedi Pooe in Sebokeng:
Dear Sir,
I’m happy to write this letter to you sir. I’m happy I’m still
going well with paper than the time I started. I’m still progresing
well by selling and I think I can be greatful if I can get bicycle
in order to deliver a paper in many other places.
My reason for jotting down is I receive papers late and
sometimes I didn’t receive some pluck cards and some few
of plastic covers of pluck cards were also not received. I did
ask Mr Zakes through phone that when posting a paper he
must also post some INVOICE but/and I didn’t receive. Please
sir I want you to advice me as certain policeman is against
me when selling a paper. Before I forget, please send me some
Official Envelopes to post your money or advice what to do
because I aint got it presently. Your favourably concideration
will be highly appreciated if you can send me the Requirement
of certain objects.
Not forgeting to pass my regards to your family particulally
the knew born.