I am ashamed. Ashamed of being a South African. Ashamed of the behaviour of my countrymen. Ashamed of South Africans. Ashamed of South Africa. And every South African should be. Be ashamed.
I have never been ashamed of being a South African. Well, not since 1994 anyway. Before that – I was very ashamed. But for all the right reasons. We were fighting against the most corrupt and violent system in the world. Against Apartheid. Against oppression. Against discrimination. Against the violence they committed against our people. Against murdering the innocent. Against killing those who can’t protect themselves.
But now I am ashamed. For the first time since 1994. I am deeply ashamed. Because we are doing to others what the Apartheid regime did to our people. To us. And we are doing this to those who already suffer the most. Who have already suffered at the hands of their own people. Their corrupt and violent regimes. Their Apartheid regimes. And now we do it to them here in our own country. Against those who have been hunted down in their own country. And tried to find a bit of safety in the townships. In the streets. And you turned on them.
Like cowards. In numbers. Because you think you are so tough with your tyres and your matches. And your pangas and machetes. But you are cowards. Cowards. Because you kill from behind the safety of your numbers. Killing their dream. And killing my dream.
The dream is being shattered by a group of cowards. Bastards. Traitors. You don’t deserve to be called South African. You are not worth the dirt on our streets. You are not worth the spit on my shoes. You are dead to me. Dead to me.
You don’t do that. You don’t kill other people. You don’t murder them because you hate foreigners. Don’t blame the immigrants. You don’t blame them for being without a job. You don’t blame them for being without a house. You don’t blame them. You just don’t blame them. And you don’t take it out on them. Never.
Look in the mirror you bastards. Look in the mirror and ask yourself if you are worth it. Worth the breath that I take. Worth the words on this page. Because you are not. You are nothing. You are animals. Not even. You are nothing.
How you forget. How you forget how these same people housed our people when they were hunted down in South Africa. Zimbabwe. They housed you. They housed your people. Our people. When we were in exile. When we were hunted down like animals. And now you do it. Like Mugabe did it to them in their own home. You are no better than Mugabe. The mad one. You are no better.
You are no better than the perpetrators of Apartheid. You are no better than them. You are no better than the animals that did this to our people. Look at this picture and ask yourself. How are you better than the people that did this to our people? I tell you how. You are no better. You are no better than Craig Williamson. No better than Ferdi Barnard. You are Eugene de Kock.
You spit on our people who died at Sharpeville. You spit on the killing of the Guguleto 7. You spit on the deaths at the Bisho Massacre. You spit on the 27 years Madiba spent in jail for people like you. You spit on the murder of Biko. You spit on the memories of Braam Fischer. The memory of each and every South African who died and suffered for you to have freedom. Every mother. Every father. Every wife. Every husband. Every sisters. Every brother. Every child. You spit on their suffering.
No. You are not just as bad as those perpetrators of Apartheid. You are worse. Because you should know better. This has happened to you. How could you? How the hell could you?
You are dead to me. You are not South African. You are animals. You deserve nothing. You fight for your country. You don’t fight the oppressed. You don’t fight those who have suffered like our people have suffered. You comfort them and protect them. You don’t hunt them down and kill them. You are bastards. And you deserve nothing. Not a crumb of bread. Not a drop of water. Not an ounce of sympathy. Not an inch of understanding. Not a second of analysis. Nothing. Because you mean nothing.
You bastards. You traitors. You animals. The blood is on your hands. You are dead to me.
And my dreams are dead.
Note to my government: Mbeki. Be the leader we need. Be the strong and just leader we need. Be a President in action and not only in name. Lead us. Right now. I have always stood up for you. Defended you. No more. Now is the time to show me why I believed in you. show me it wasn’t just empty words. Time to show what you are made of. The burden is on you right now. This is your hour. A defining moment in your Presidency. Will you fail or will you succeed? Show no mercy to these murderers. Be a leader. Lead. Zuma. Shut up and be the leader we need to know you are. Show us what we can expect. Have no sympathy. Because these dogs deserve no sympathy. None. But most of all. Protect those who are being hunted down. Hold them tight and tell them it will be okay. And make it okay. Because they are our flesh and blood. Not the bastards who are traitors to our country. Those who try and call themselves South Africans. They are dead to us. Show them they don’t deserve our great country. They are not South African.
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