“Coloured in Technicolour – I am a Kullid!!”

(This toe-curlingly BRILLIANT piece of creative writing by Ronald Dyers is nothing short of a MUST READ! – Ed)

My mense staan voor baie deure wat gesluit is,
Sommige het hulle vir hulself gesluit,
Sommige is deur andere vir hulle gesluit;
Maar ons gaan dit almal saam oopkry, al moet dit hoe is!
Al moet daar pyn is, al moet daar stryd is!

Omdat ek ‘n Kullid is!

I was here before oom Van Riebeeck came,
I was here roaming all these plains.
I was here when uncle Shaka came,
In this land, long before everyone came, I was the flame!

I am a Coloured!

I owe my being to the Khoi and the San, to the slaves from Java, Madagascar and Batavia. My DNA is richly shaped from the miscegenation of White and Black; the coming together of the Swati and English, Indian and Tsonga, Chinese and Sotho, Boer and Zulu, Venda, Pedi, Tswana, Shangaan, Ndebele, and Xhosa. Yet, those who formed me, deny me – deny me my true freedom, and deny me equality in this my own motherland…

This is who I am, even when I’m alone as a stone: I am a Coloured!

My name, my classification, was willfully and disdainfully bestowed on me, making me the laughing stock as an in-between person – not white enough, not black enough. Yet even the ridiculed name I proudly make my own.

I tell you today, if no one else is this today, I am a Coloured!

This is who I am – from Bonteheuwel to Springbok, van Buysdorp, deur Westernburg tot die laaste fisher town. From Eldos to Mitchells Plain, to the leveled plains of the Free State, tot waar die Heidedal. From Wentworth tot die Baai. Kry my in Keimoes, meet my in Danville, orals is my Homestead. Ek’s in Woodlands en die hele Reiger Park. Ek blom op Bruinou.com, 24/7. Ek is wat ek is, regdeur Mzansi.

For sho! I am a Coloured!

Mandela en elkeen wat die feite ken,
sal jou vertel wie ek is, en die waarheid beken.
I am a descendant of the first political prisoner on Robben Island, Harry die Strandloper; of Jan Bantjes wat se naam getjap is op ‘n straat in Lichtenburg. I descend from the agterryers wat met die Boere die British ge-fight het; from the 1976 uprising where my brothers were killed in Noordgesig, al praat julle nou heeldag lank kamstig net van Hector Peterson – al check julle nie meer my contribution tot die freedom mission; I even descent from the longest standing army in Mzansi’s history – die SAKK; from the founding of the United Democratic Front, en hiermee moet ek jou straight confront… Why do you still treat me as an outcast?

No matter what, I remain a Coloured!

All my dreams I am denied,
through al die tik-tik gemors en one-sided affirmative action, I find my plight;
denied, excluded, here in your full sight.
Here I stand today, prepared to be what I am, even if my own and other demons I must fight.

I’ll fight you if you want to artificially create another strata of Colouredness;
I’ll fight you if you want to use my people with your empty promises.

I’ll unite my people for their own better good, and get my anties in a better mood.
With all South Africa I want to live in fairness and mutual respect, for after all we’re indeed one big brotherhood.

I accept that none of us is the main-ou, but together we can be the great-ou.

So take my hand and refuse me not, and I’ll help you paint that last lost colour of our rainbow nation.

I am a Coloured!

Through my creolisation I brought you Afrikaans, and some took it from me.
I make you pickle fish like no other. I give you the Cape Coons in all their glamour. And now I take my language back, I re-invent it for all to enjoy…
“en hosh, my sizza en my broe, ek dalla jou die hele storie,
slat jou in technicolor my hele movie, die volle mollevisie.
Wie kan blom soos ek right-through al die opposisie?
Dis hoe dit is, die saak is soos kakduidelik.co.za, duidelik soos daylight.
Al hals wie my ook en maak my swak, ek gwarra jou terug, want
jy check, ek lyk net dof, eintlik is ek blind bright.”

Ek is ‘n Kullid!

“Aweh, ma-se-nis! Izzit nie kla so nie? Ek baaiza nie. Deur alles speel ek my part!”

I am a Coloured!

Call me not… a so-called Coloured. Ek’s nie een van daais wat deurmekaar is oor my ID nie. So, see me not as… an unidentifiable citizen, a so-called entity, a so-called being – dan’s jy heavy confused, for you can’t have a Rainbow nation without the Bruinou nation.

Let those grand academics – daais wat die domste boeke blaai, those ‘so-called’ leaders of my people, those who find themselves in sustainable, comfortable positions, looking and speaking from their insulated ivory towers of sell-out cornerstone media spaces and positions – yes, let those who deem themselves to be ‘so-called’ Coloureds, let them be, and let them be seen as exactly what they say they are: ‘so-called’ – fakes – not real – denialist of their own roots and people; too lofty and grand, just mere coconuts.

But as for me…
Call me a Bushie, call me a Bruinou, call me a Dushie, even call me a Kleurling as jy dan like. Dissie jy wat my kan tune wie ek issie: I tell you who I am, for I know myself more deeply than you ever would.

I am a Coloured!

En iemand met ‘n moerse spine,
Needs to take a little time;
And tell you about a heinous crime,
A crime against my people perpetrated in daytime,
where compassion and solidarity is denied to my bloodline.

I am a Coloured in Technicolor. I buy a colour tv, still all I see is black and white; for my Colouredness, my hele nannas, my music and language, my culture, my people, my being – you still deny, oppress and suppress… Hoe kan ek dan ook Vuka Sizwe? Miskien is dit jy wat moet skrik, al izzit net wakker, want ek is hier; vir nou en vir altyd.

I am a Coloured!

You can’t wish me away…
You can’t reason me away…
You can’t pray me away…
You can’t toor me away…
You can’t legislate me away…
And hear me well today: You’ll nevva broadcast my existence away…

I am a Kullid!

By

Ronald S Dyers © 2008

www.Bruinou.com