Over the river through the woods above the mystic forests,
There lies in concrete the city i’m from.
I’m from a city that constantly reminds me that sanity and happiness are chaotic combination.
Where the deeds under high buildings are beyond rationalisation,
A place with less obligation or justification.
This is not a fake paradise with birds chirping,
This is a jungle where minds are programmed to survive.
We have no vineyards but we drink the blood of grapes like thirsty wizards under the moonlight,
Our mothers clutch their bags closer to their chests,
We hide our phones like uncomfortable house guests
As we walk on these streets that have witnessed more pain than homeless orphans on a winter day.
I’m from a city where young age is not an excuse to escape agony,
Melancholy, scattered behind every , ” cel’ishumi sister”
Or “hello nice come let me do your hair cheap cheap”
Or Nigerian brothers moving around taxi rank buildings claiming every girl is their size,
Keep your head straight this is my city.
Every journey has it’s story,
Every soul is on a path.
Some are riding on the wind just getting through the day
Other are scarred and thirsty for a life beyond the Mandela bridge,
Some are searching,
Others have found the gold under the reef city’s foundations.
Some are passing,like a police van passing a crime scene to arrest weed smokers.
Some are lost, and they are later found lying on the stomachs of dying old men with bald heads.
Some want to escape, to a life brighter, a city cleaner, maybe with less fake memory cards on the street corners.
Some are intrigued, like ex convicts being called on the Universal Church speakers.
Some are happy,they are home.
My city is home,
To undiscovered dreams
It is home to homeless destitutes with no guts to call anything else home.
It is a helping hand to the numb,
It is a roof for all African distant relatives
Soft smells of mogodu linger as young girls in short skirts rush to catch the 4pm train before it’s too late,
Kissing their lovers amidst the chaos of the city’s buzz,
The city’s lights,
The city’s eyes,
Staring at all the people that were brave enough to come to the city of gold.