Freedom Harvesters Arise

Robert Mangaliso Sobukhwe(Mangaliso means Miracle)

Steven Bantu Biko 

(Bantu – People)

The Mxenge husband & wife duo

Cradock 4

1976 

Chris Hani 

The land was here before it was stolen and it can easily be restored without bloodshed or impoverishing anyone. It just takes a little repentance here and there and we will all be well and prosper equally without injustice. Only the greedy and fearful think this can’t happen. 

What we can never get back are these lives who were killed for greed and fear of their magnificent beauty. 

Leaders whose light shone so magnicently that their enemies pulled the darkness closer to them instead of coming out to embrace the light. 

And yet the proverb says: “They didn’t know that we were seeds.” 
As I drove past Grahamstown on my way to Peddie etc. it was like I heard the land itself crying for freedom. The earth itself seeks to be liberated. How many secrets it had to keep for so many centuries? It can’t any longer.
A new kind of Freedom Fighter will be born out of those same places.

It will be the kind of Freedom Fighter who fights by building a new dream with her hands. They shall sing a new kind of Freedom song and let’s it out.

They shall be Freedom Harvesters. Their ancestors lost everything for their freedom. Their blood watered the land that was ripped away from them. The blood testifies day and night. The land is frustrated and cannot hold it in any more. The Freedom Harvesters will harvest with no blood on their hands. 

Those with blood on their hands cannot build a Holy Place for God even if they fought a war God asked them to fight. Freedom Harvesters will harvest with a new song on their lips, with a new dance. 
Yes, the song from the region of Port Elizabeth has already begun asking for the Heavens to open, after the song from EL had gone up asking God to Phendula, a song of love from the young men pours out. Rejoicing will come. The fathers will come home. The gold mines will no longer bury them. They are no longer satisfied to lose their lives and blood to satisfy the suits of a few men who do not care for their children.

Yes, Freedom Harvesters shall rise up from this land.

With sickles not axes or guns. 

They will play music to the cattle because amakhwenkwe azobuya nazo emasimini.
Harvest time will begin in the Eastern Cape where so many leaders bled for so long, leaving the people to shameful poverty, a laughing stock. Harvest time is here in the distant now, where so many leaders are admired by the world but left us with empty stomachs, the Freedom Harvesters will feed those who are at home. The wind will not scatter them because of their fame. The wind will only scatter what is above and beyond enough to give away because these are generous people. 
Why should the people of Biko be without quality African Education? 

Why should the people of Mmangaliso Sobukhwe be without their miracle of land? 

Why should the people of the Mxenges be without justice? 

Why should the children of the men of Marikana be without gold? 

Why should the people of Mandela not be world famous for their brilliance? 

Why should the people of Ntsikana not leave in peace and prosperity and knowledge of God?

Why should the people of Nongqawuse not have their cattle come back from the dead? 

Why should the people of resurrection not have their resurrection? 

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Biko 70 years since 

Biko’s mom used to work as a cleaner for the hospital. Biko became a Doctor. Biko’s township raised funds for him to further his studies. Biko was so moved by such an act that he started a Ginsberg education fund and led the community. Biko said Black is Beautiful because he experienced it and knew it. This is the beauty I experienced deep within my soul at the Biko Center in Ginsberg today. This beauty that heals you, lifts you up, gives wind to your dreams and lights a fire within you. Beauty. Black is beautiful became a famous saying today I learned that it was accredited to Biko, thank you Mr Google for helping me see that the mystery I experienced was the profound mystery of that beauty. Some places have a life beyond what the eye can see. 

13 Rubber Bullets

Ho, is anyone thirsty on this cruel Thursday!

Where teargas is the only air university students are allowed to breathe?

Where 13 rubber bullets are shot at close range on the back of an unarmed young female body?

This freedom is a lie.

This rainbow was a fake rainbow.

We were only allowed to claim freedom for as long as we remained satisfied with black poverty in a wealthy land.

The fakeness of the rainbow has long been exposed but now, we know that apartheid was never over. It only changed faces.

The same demon guards the gates of liberty, using the same police shooting freedom’s children.

But freedom we shall have in our lifetime because Steve Biko’s body is still warm under the earth, because Sobukhwe did not die in vain. True freedom and a true rainbow we shall have not this corrupt lie that still serves its old masters.

True freedom and a true rainbow we shall have, not this corrupt lie that still serves its old masters.

Is Anyone thirsty on this cruel Thursday?

There is this River I know.

It is a River with sweet untainted waters.

There is a River whose streams do make glad..

There is a river whose streams make glad the City of God.

So come,

Come and drink freely.

You have to come up a little higher to reach it.

You have to look up with an unshifting gaze and raise your head above the teargas. and inhale air from a kingdom where justice reigns.

Then deeply inhale air from a kingdom where justice reigns and then come up some more.

Lift your head high in order drink from sweet pure streams that will intoxicate your lungs with everything right.deeply because we have to finish the work.

Inhale deeply because we have to finish the work.

 

 

 #JusticeNow

Today Wits University Student Activist Leader Shaeerah Kalla was shot with 13 rubber bullets on her back at close range by police. She was unarmed. 

 

Women Stop Police Violence at Wits #FeesMustFall

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Mcebo Dlamini addresses student activists at Wits University. This day has been tense. About 10 students are reportedly injured by police rubber bullets. Today was feared to be another Marikana after an army of police were unleashed against student activists. The violence and tension seemed to be increasing by the hour until 3 women arrived on the scene of protest begging police to cease fire. They took off their tops and stood half naked, their breasts uncovered. They raised their hands begging the police to stop with the shooting. “This has been happening all day. Please stop shooting. We are women we are defenseless. We have no guns.” 


The police were shamed and they turned away. These women disarmed police by showing their most vulnerable body parts. The atmosphere of violence stopped and hundreds of student protestors arrived and began to sing protest songs. 


It is here that Mcebo Dlamini made his speech that they are fighting for the dignity of the black child. That police were trained to shoot black people. That black lives are cheap while white protestors are handled with care. 

South African leaders need wisdom going forward. The public have to get involved otherwise the situation is spiraling out of control. 

4 October 2016, Tuesday.

Black Hair Matters School protests : Sans Souci

Sans Souci Girls High School protesting after Pretoria Girls High School started to protest after black girls were forced to straighten their natural hair. Their natural hair was seen as “unruly” and “not neat.”

San Souci girls said they are not allowed to braid their hair. Braiding African hair is not only an ancient part of African culture but it is one of the most effective ways to mantain African hair.


Some girls wore traditional beaded bands to protest against white culture of which they are forced to assimilate to.


Girls were also protesting against the rejecting of their native languages. Xhosa is an official language in South Africa equal to English. The school however punished school girls for speaking Xhosa while those who spoke French were not reprimanded. Teachers speak Afrikaans to each other and the girls are taking a stand for their right to use their African languages.

The school in red Blazers is a neighboring school. Mostly white students from Westerford High School in solidarity with Sans Souci girls. They arrived carrying protests cards written in isiXhosa, the banned language at San Souci showing that as white English speaking students they reject white supremacy and racism against Africans.

His People Name Change: Paul Daniel – say his name

“Siki; but why are you rocking the boat?”

“Which boat?”

“Why are you..” he pauses, becomes a little more uncomfortable as he looks to see who could be standing close by. He continues and whispers – afraid of being heard. “But why are you bringing up Pastor Paul’s name? I read your blog.”

It was even harder for his mouth to release the sound the name Paul makes. It was as though he had just blasphemed and it was my fault. He had spoken a name ought not to be uttered within the courts of His People or anywhere.

If I wanted to rock the boat I would have written something titled “How to Steal a Church,” but that is not my purpose.

This fear is the reason I have written as clearly as I have. Fear belongs to dark forces and so does intimidation and silencing of voices.

The name Paul Daniel, as clearly demonstrated by this conversation, became spoken of only in private corners and even there, it was most difficult to utter. In church meetings Paul Daniel’s name became the elephant in the room no one wanted to acknowledge as though the church, His People, had fallen out of the sky and came into existence all on its own. Its energy and spark was lost. The light dimmed and the name His People became heavy on our tongues when asked: “which church are you from?” Though the name had once sprung from a joyful tongue confessing what was evidently true.

Shame replaced confidence; self-doubt and fear replaced a robust faith culture. Before we came up for air, the Americans had arrived, taking charge of the church stage as our new masters, rearranging our spiritual lives, telling us how to do church properly. It was a confusing time. After all, we had been taught well, arguably we were a church of Bible geeks. We were not mere Bible lovers and readers but we lived to test its power in action. We had lived the story and we knew the faith story of the church itself. Our very lives were a living testament. Was the sin of one man the burden of all? We would all repent. We would all question ourselves, our beliefs; wives would question their husbands’ faithfulness. If what we were taught was questionable, surely whatever was replacing it would not be received without even more vigorous questioning. But it was not so. It was a confusing time.

After Adam and Eve had sinned before the Lord, who were they now? Their glory was no more and they were naked. Naturally they covered themselves with fig leaves and hid. We imported a covering and like Adam and Eve, the glory did not return.

Sin has a way of scattering, of separating and that happened in large scales.

We never saw Paul Daniel in the flesh again, not in the church he founded, prayed for or believe for. His name never again to be spoken of or acknowledged while it remained hanging over every sermon, every pastor, every usher, every revamped logo, every blue chair, everything the church tried to shape itself into or not.

Can Israel deny Moses? Did David deny Saul? Saul sought to destroy David and yet when Saul was dead, David killed the messenger who brought him news of King Saul’s death. David bitterly lamented the death of his leader who had sought to kill him. He did not pretend Saul never existed. He said his name. He recited a poem lamenting: How are the mighty fallen. He praised Saul and did not attempt to erase him from the history books of God’s people. Today, we read about Saul just as we read about David, though our Paul was no Saul.

 

After a few years after the church incident, my mother was in Cape Town for my cousin’s graduation. I took her to my church His People. I could tell that she was hardly impressed and I was disappointed, why wouldn’t she be? I took her to another service and still I failed to impress her with my church. I had not told her about the history of the church. I was not about to tell her what happened, just to avoid being told about the unstable nature of Charismatic churches who are here today and gone tomorrow. Two years ago she finally confessed her thoughts, she said: “I had this deep sense that this was once a very great church but something happened and it was no longer.”

I was stunned. Such insight.

That which once drew Nelson Mandela to walk through the doors is gone. Perhaps the name change then is fitting. Though my natural instinct is to speak the words of the prophet Joel, rend your hearts, not your garments. But, before the garments of His People are torn, let me say the name Paul Daniel, loud and clear.

The Bible does well to spell out the names of those who handed us this faith we now have. Hebrews 11 has been a His People favourite; it lists people of faith by name. The Gospels have names attached to them, e.g. Mark, Luke, because God sends people with names to bring the Good News to other people with names. Names God intends to remember, in fact our destiny rests on whether our names are written or not. These names build up other believers’ faith so that when we say the name Enoch we think one thing, when we say the name Esther we think another. Each name means something specific; it is not something to blot out because of personal discomforts. If there is a personal discomfort then that is an open door to repentance. Where freedom is lacking, God’s Spirit is absent. Where fear is present, God’s love is absent. We are after all living epistles. I am not saying much about the erasing of the name His People yet but let me speak of the name Paul Daniel. This name was banished out of buildings, books but not out of hearts, certainly not out of God’s heart. Paul Daniel is to many the Acts 29 man and I refuse to be ashamed of a man who left such a great inheritance for the church, not just in Cape Town, but the world over. His seed has been tested in great fires and yet it still stands. Works of faith must go through the fire.

Nevertheless, do not rejoice that the spirits submit to you, but rejoice that your names stand written in heaven.” – Luke 10:20

I want God to remember my name even if others may shun it for whatever reason. I will therefore not shun the name of Paul Daniel. His faith and teachings have given to a generation of leaders in every sphere more than words can say. I will therefore speak his name as clearly as David spoke the name of Jonathan and Saul, as clearly as Jesus spoke the name of John the Baptist, as clearly as Paul spoke of Timothy, as clearly as Jesus spoke of Abraham, the Queen of Sheeba or Mary. Yes, let the name His People fade if it must, though I doubt that God will write it out of His book, but let Paul Daniel hear God utter his own name loud and clear, because then his true glory will be revealed. It is God who crowns us after all. All other crowns are worthless. All other voices are nothing if God’s voice is absent.

“The one who is victorious I will make a pillar in the temple of My God, and he will never again leave it. Upon him I will write the name of My God, and the name of the city of My God (the new Jerusalem that comes down out of heaven from My God), and My new name.” – Revelation 3:12

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