The Soapbox | Where South Africans Speak Out

BY NIKOLAI TJONGARERO

Standing on a ledge overlooking the barren land of reality is a figure from a time of experience, bringing with him the knowledge of altercations and the skills of kings… He holds his sword of eyes, which is the manifestation of those he previously encountered during his search for the white dove, in his one hand and his firearm of unscripted and untold purpose in the other hand under his coat. His name is… Slick.

However, he stands here breathing in the fumes of motivation and the air of insubordination but is banished to a life of misery and desolate seclusion, he has furthermore exhausted all resources and allowances along this path and stands here as an emotionally impoverished soul destined for greatness without knowing the path to its achievement.

His mission is indefinable, as it has no time limit; he started the journey for the white dove but glares at the sky and sees only an ocean of black pigeons waiting to impersonate the queen of all he desires. Although their existence could assist him in distinguishing between the two, the reality is that he is color-blind and they only delay his advancement by misdirecting his attention in order to force him to stray from the trail she had left.

Now he is walking along a blurred line of confusion and has lost sight of the one for which he searches, he dwells between the heights of the mountaintops and the depths of the slums. Hoping that one day she may revisit the path she was once on in an attempt to find the one she might have never noticed, is what keeps him from relinquishing his attempts, but this obstacle of waiting and anticipating is not enough to destroy his spirit and never ending ambition.

Yes, he is I and I am he. The Psychological Hit Man willing to, for the promise of an eventual payoff, go through the never ending battle of uncertainty and the immense pain of reluctance to entertain the pigeons of despair, while scrutinizing their motives to in turn differentiate between the contrast of their visible exteriors by way of their mentality and personality traits…

However, he has realised what he is capable of, while at the same time comprehending and already having taken the steps needed to achieve that which is conducive to his journey of mental emancipation with the bonus of systematically and flawlessly achieving his previously unobtainable goals…

That is the point I seem to find myself in and the lack of stress combined with the anticipation of what is to come is a motivation factor immeasurable to the definitions according to the norms of reality.

Yes, I stand alongside those who inhibit the skills of untold self-actualisation and determination; they are my brethren in the struggle opposing ignorance and even though our approaches, tools of our respective crafts and tactics are diverse in the means of their utilization we share the same objective of glory without the encumbrance of inhibitions.

We communicate in tongues and gestures unbeknown to your rational and progress with the swiftness of a summer sea breeze undeterred by the inevitable and repetitive collision with the movable and immovable, so as to overcome all by way of confrontation and annihilation.

Each acting as a component of an relentless force capable of adapting before the need to do so transpires, thereby being incapable of failure and therein recognizing the accomplished by means of retrospection.

Done so as the initiated combined might gains momentum with every impediment placed within their path, not only from those battles won but also from those lost.

Namibian-born Nikolai Tjongarero is a poet based in Cape Town. He has completed his first book – Accounts of a Mental Evolution.