Beware Of Human Mask
I forgave my enemy
For stealing my food
Which I had spiked with deadly poison
He vomited and died forgiven
Now I face the mountain
Of forgiving myself with a gulp of venom
Because I was unforgiving in my mask of forgiveness
Time to share figs and bananas with a friend
I took all the figs
And gave a friend all the bananas
Because I dislike bananas
On a jihad of shared humanity
I should have known we share things we value
And things we wish for ourselves and for our descendants
Things we dislike we dump
Yet oftentimes dumping wears the mask of generosity
I look in the mirror
And see a lover of freedom in me
Ready to give away his life for the love of liberty
Suddenly the mask falls on the floor
Then I see oppressor actual, past and potential
I pick up my mask and wear it
To live the masked life
Seeing fellow humans’ vulnerable eyes darting behind masks
The price we pay for unacknowledged insecurity.
Letlapa Mphahlele
Born in rural South Africa, Letlapa Mphahlele grew up there during the height of apartheid. In 1978, at the age of seventeen, he went into exile to join his country’s liberation struggle. His exile took him to, among other African countries, Botswana, Tanzania, Guinea and Zimbabwe.
Letlapa has experienced life in refugee camp and military camp, life underground, and life in prison.
Rising through the ranks of the Azanian People’s Liberation Army, the military wing of the Pan Africanist Congress of Azania (PAC), Letlapa became its director of operations. In 1993, following the killing of school children, he ordered several high-profile retaliatory massacres, including at the Heidelberg Tavern in Cape Town.
Lyndi Fourie, a student, was amongst those killed. Her mother Ginn later forgave Letlapa. This was pivotal in both their transforming journeys.
Letlapa is an author of several books, including Child of this Soil: My Life as a Freedom Fighter.