Attention attention, I have a question…
There’s this question I had been meaning to ask. Every time I tried to ask someone, something inside of me told me to put it off because it must be the most stupid question.
So I never dared to ask anyone this particular question. Not even my closest friends.
I knew somehow that no one will have a right answer to it. But also, I didn’t want people to think I was a lunatic.
People who were suspected to be half crazy were ignored in my village. There was this boy whose uncle was a Rasta and made him smoke dagga, and the boy was an example of a lunatic to everyone.
“You are as crazy as Joseph!” Went one teasing, or “You hallucinating like Joseph.”
All my friends ignored him and that turned him to a recluse, he roamed Ntwane on his own. Today I care less what you will think of me. I know you have already labelled me just before even attempting reading this. Ok, here is my question-
No, no no.
Before I can even go ahead and ask it, let me give you some little bit of background about the origins of my question. This question came to me when I visited Hillbrow in 1993 for the very first time.
Well, if you don’t know, I was born here in Joburg but grew up in the rural areas of Dennilton in a village called Ntwane. This village is predominantly BaNtwane but there are also few Zulus like me, Ndebeles and Xhosas. And I was just this inquisitive Zulu boy trying hard to fit in with the BaNtwanes.
And one day at school during one of those boring subjects I detested like Freshen, (that is History) I asked my teacher if he can let me go to the loo.
Even though he was Zulu like me I had to ask him in my broken English. He approved my request with a steady nod of his head and off I ran to the toilets.
Enjoying the blowing breeze of the morning as I ran. Well, as I only went there just to pass time than to relieve myself, I had all the time in the world to open one toilet door after the other. Just for the sake of it you know.
I opened the first, and then I peeped in and scrutinized the seat, then the walls.
Moved on to the second door, do the same and banged the door again as I was closing it. And when I was in toilet number three I was greeted by what I have never seen before.
And it was not even Pinky-pinky or some kind of Tokoloshe as they were even rife those days.
I was greeted by a piece of paper pasted on the wall. I walked closer to this piece of paper. And there was the exhibition of what will become the longest penis I have ever seen, erect like a rod.
Underneath this upsetting photo my principal’s surname was scribbled legibly. Then I started reading some other words scribbled on the wall, drawings of pangas and more long penises as well.
Wow! I was completely stunned by what was written there. I even concluded that whoever wrote all that must be a genius indeed. And I started asking myself this question: “ Is it true that shitting makes you a genius?”
When I visited Hillbrow for the very first time I even read what will be my first Ad targeting men whom preferred other men. Remember that in Ntwane homosexuality was unknown of. And I have also read gossip there, or just general teasing but also gratuitous slurs.
Just after reading, I will ask my self who is responsible for writing all this and why here? Why use this toilet and not your journal?
So let me ask you once again: “Is it true that shitting makes you a genius?”
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