D R E A M S

I long for the day when the streets will feel safe again. I long for the day when I can walk on these streets and not feel my skin crawl. The day when walking down the streets of Boratas, Jo’burg, Polokwane, Alexandra — will be the same. I long for the day when children will flock to an ice cream truck and we won’t even begin to imagine that one might not make it back. I long for the day when mothers will be able to go to work during school holidays and be assured that the neighbourhood will look after their children. I long for the day when if work demands we wake up before sunrise on a Saturday morning, we won’t worry that a drunkard or gangster thirsty for ‘blood’ might be lurking in the shadows on our streets. I long for the day when we will walk in these streets and not think our possessions might not make it to our destinations. The day when a stranger bumping into you won’t send your mind into a hysteria of thinking crime syndicate. I long for the day when I’ll be able to go to the nearest mall during the festive season and not be scared that bullets could fly over my head at any minute! I long for the day when I can look into a stranger’s eyes and not feel intimidated, like I don’t belong. I long for the day when we won’t feel the need to protect ourselves, or that we need protection, but know we are safe.

I long for the day the term ‘male’ doesn’t automatically mean ‘danger’. I long for that day when we can trust each other again.

I long for the day when our streets will be safe again, feel safe again. Our homes. Our workplaces. Our neighborhoods. The day when we won’t need to escape from who we are because we’ve become who we never wanted to be. I long for the day when we’ll all be able to live, despite ourselves, within ourselves, amongst each other, and with ourselves. I long for that day.