Just because there was rampant corruption during apartheid, it doesn't mean we should tolerate it now. It is not a black or white, rich or poor problem, but a South African problem - corruption is a battle between good and evil.
Friends or foes? To this day, I cannot tell whether Biva and Xamu cared for or hated each other. Drunk or sober they were always together - drinking, dissing, disagreeing, and donnering each other.
"Muyeke (leave him)! Biva muyeke!" shouted Jolo, my gogo, after Biva clobbered Xamu with a knobkerrie on the head. Xamu lay dazed on the gravel, his blue overall now covered in the powdery dust he lay on. He rolled his head to show a long, jagged scar glistening with sudden scarlet, dust-tinged droplets on his crown. Biva stood tall with his right fist fastened to the knobkerrie, drunk with rage and umqombothi, licking his bleeding lips.
Suddenly, a loud shout pierced the air. Turning towards the noise, I saw billowing smoke and a ghastly orange grin rapidly tearing across the Nkabini (Kwazulu-Natal) village outskirts as it approached Xamu's rondavel. Fire! In a flash, Biva dropped the knobkerrie. He scurried to help the other villagers quell...