For the #1 of River­lea

In mem­ory of Chris van Wyk

CityPress - - Voices - MICHAEL WEEDER voices@city­press.co.za The Very Rev­erend Michael Weeder is dean of Cape Town at the Cathe­dral of St George the Mar­tyr

No, my brother, we weren’t ready for this. Cl­e­vahs like you don’t just leave. Qui­etly.

Like on a mid­night waen­tjie out on an away-game skelmpie, or foot­ing it from the fur­ni­ture store col­lec­tors at the front door.

Win­dows are kasie ex­its to Flin­ders Street and far away.

You did not hold back, like the amper-baas of to­day, from mzam­bal­aza’s call or fast gun bul­lets or the tokoloshes at John Vorster Square.

Ai, moena, who will warn us now about white ladies who wear san­dals and of their heirs, the bear­ers of BandAid for the wounds of our his­tory?

Or school us in the ways of mis­di­rect­ing the jakkals who check one for a moe­goe and notch nie die slim kind on the street­corner univer­si­ties of Mzansi from its north to its sea-salted, windswept south.

But make no mis­take. You gave us more than your best.

A life hon­est, like vetkoek. Hum­ble like a calabash awash with umqom­bothi. Kathy’s nougat, Sweetie Pie.

The can­dle­light flick­ers in the soft wind de­spite the threat­en­ing storm. It seems darker than yes­ter­day.

We look to you and the things you wrote and sto­ries you told for us, about us, as you join the Band of Hope of the amad­lozi guid­ing us to where we need drink from our own wells.

Like never be­fore.

Chris van Wyk

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