Letter to the President-ZUMA


My president, I write to you as though I was stung by a national bee. For those of us who have been stung by it at least once, it is hard to be proud that I killed a bee when I know how it could have killed me first.
I am allergic to bees: first by not wanting to be stung by them &; lastly by not wanting to run after them; killing them before they sting me.



Sir I believe that this is the current state of our nation. It is becoming harder everyday to either protect oneself or avoid harming those who deliberately mean to harm you.



President, I’m afraid that I am no longer available for the battles I see around me on a day to day basis. I’m afraid that it is not within my being &; spirit to look in the eye of another, see the crimes, judge and then use my limited strengths to report to you or even the person next to me. My strength & power has been drained.
We all see these things. Poor and rich. Foreign & local residents alike. Clever & stupid people.
Something happens
Someone sees something unbearable
The shocking horror kicks in
People look around to see who they know
The coldness of it sets in; and then someone dies
The men become unreasonable & the women forget to be undestanding.



We all die thereafter as we uncover the battles in the situation. Whatever horrific situation. It never leaves our hearts & then, the day to day battle begins: in our hearts, in our souls, in our spirits, in our work and it eventually spills over to our families and friends



I have not a thing Sir. Not a car, not a child, & not a husband but I can no longer lock in the sadness & disturbance of the matter. Even the blind can see it.



Sir, there is not a thing I can do about the feeling and frustration I bear with me even at this moment. I cannot write, I cannot eat & I cannot speak with the kind of ease & volume that would make my community happy. I feel that they themselves no longer care for me as they did before and I don’t know where this is coming from. It is difficult to draw inspiration from them as I did before.
This feeling is weakening all of us; and you are the president of it. King of sorrow, like the sour mood of your own trials & tribulations; and not enough bravery from the public to continue to see one another in the right light with your office.



How do we go back, or how do we go forward to retain our spirit and love for one another? The sadness and distrust in each other has successfully reached all of us. We all feel like bees about to sting one another OR the killer of bees trying to avoid being stung.
Sir I am afraid that I will not be available for this battle. Please do not ask me where I will be or think that I will run and hide. Believe instead that:


After having felt the ripple effect of bad blood & grave dishonesty in people;
That after having cried in my weakest state while standing next to many people who felt helpless;
That after having looked around for a sense of community & brotherhood that seemed to fade like a dying hour;
That after having screamed for help & a voice to speak for me, and never heard it;
That after having felt abandoned & destroyed inside;
I am not available for this battle. I am infact removing myself from it indefinitely. It is too much for my heart as a woman and provider of the nation.

Mr President, I write to tell you that I am not available for this battle. It makes me unfriendly and I cannot shoot!


By Nomfusi Xinindlu
The Collection: Whispers of the day & Monologues of Today.