Writing by Ben Burrow

By Anna Garthwaite | Posted: Friday June 3, 2016

I have a dream that one day my children will not be judged by the colour of their skin but by the contents of their character. I have a dream that one day all protests will stop and we will once again join together in perfect harmony and unision. That day will come soon my fellow comrades. The age of darkness is near end. But it seems all hopes were meant to crash and burn into the fiery ashes of society. Feeding flames of power. Destroying all hopes of freedom, love and peace. Making it impossible to rebuild. Like building using water. One day we may regrow, repopulate and rebuild but sadly that will not happen today. Maybe tomorrow? Yesterday was history and tomorrow is a mystery. Just remember that my fellow comrades. Always keep your head held high. As soon as he walked off the stage I sprinted like a jaguar towards his hut. I hit the door with a lightning like bang, my whole body shook violently. The doors hinges cracked exposing a tall slightly plump man wearing a crisp black business suit with a purple suit. He told me to sit down and talk with him. I then talked to Martin Luther King. Pouring my sorrows, problems and beliefs. He told me in his candy sweet voice one phrase. Darkness cannot drive out darkness only love can do that, Hate cannot drive out hate,Only love can do that. I interpreted this by myself and came up with millions of meanings in my head but the one that felt right for me was to keep my head held high and focus on the now not the past but know we do not know what will happen tomorrow but we must hold onto today. I walked away that day believing more in myself than most of my ancestors had had before me. As I walked through the littered streets of Johannesburg I offered myself to gaze at my surroundings. I saw white men and women walking around in their crisp suits and clothes walking down the streets without a care in the world. And then I saw us. Cowering in the corner of humanity. Struggling. Struggling to keep our families alive. Working long hours just to earn ¼ of what white men would earn. Anger swelled up inside of me. It formed bubbles inside of me. Making my blood boil. Whelps of hatred burst sending adrenaline through my body. I walked right up to a white man standing waiting for the bus and punched him. Right in the chin. It was a good one it was. And then I reared back and took a swing. Not with my arm but with my leg. Hit him right in the bullseye. Cheap shot. Well by now he was screaming in agony lying on the ground. Already other men were grabbing my arms and pulling me back. Then suddenly one went limp and I felt their grip loosen. I turned my head slightly to see another man like me poised ready to strike at the next. A few minutes later it had turned into an all out protest. I suddenly heard cracks of thunder shot from tall uniformed men carrying guns. People were getting shot left, right and center. I didn’t like my chances. Even in the middle of the mob. I could tell also from the look on peoples faces that others were thinking that too. So I tried to commando crawl through the crowd of fighting people. I suddenly felt a clasp of pain. And then I blacked out. Ben Burrow