Lungile Mtshiliba

Mandela's Children Lungile Mtshiliba

He watched the distant stars and the moon from his bedroom, swallowing gulps of saliva mixed with salty tears from his angry innocent eyes. Spring set the world alive with rains, and the land was green again. The thin livestock gained weight very quickly. He watched as the young boys and girls chased butterflies around. The farm was covered with yellow sunflower petals. He knew that his father was going to make a lot of money, lots and lots of millions. He was the perfect son, beloved by his parents until he began to loathe the misfortunes of apartheid system that contrived brutal oppressions on Africans by the white race. He felt an unstoppable, unpreventable and incurable pain in his core of being. His eyes welled with tears for both his soul and heart were torn... He gave a long sigh as he pondered the past, and he felt angry about how he had been deprived of a blissful childhood, free for all. He felt like not forgiving the past, for he couldn't forget all its pains and miseries. Circles of water formed in his eyes as he continued watching his beautiful wife. He bit his lower lip, and took another long deep breath... A white lawyer's soul is torn on forgiving his parent's inordinate loyalty to the service of state oppression against fellow humankind, bowing to the winds of change that swept the country.