It’s how they come in the night that scares us. In the day we could face them. We would put our hands on our waist, look them straight in the eye and ask them who sent them. We would tell them who we are and tell them our journey and how we earned the things we own. But in the night we take off our power and put it in the wardrobe to rest it for another day. In the night our guard goes down to rest as we sing it lullabies to forget the evils of the day.
We tell stories of how Tselane defeats Dimo and imagine ourselves as conquerors. In the night we don’t think to fight, we think of saying I love you, we allow ourselves to be fragile because we’re surrounded by people who know that we bruise easily. That is why I shot them when they came.
I was tired of a life lined with fear. I was so tired of always having to ask myself in the middle of my laughter if they were ever going to come for our television, our microwave, our designer shoes or if the ones who’ll come will leave with our innocence and purity. So I woke up one day and followed the legal process of acquiring a gun and when they came I shot them because they thought themselves so powerful and us so weak that they broke into my house not carrying a weapon.
Photo: Hazel Fasaha Tobo