Cry The Beloved Country

Essay by PaperNerd ContributorCollege, Undergraduate May 2001

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Dear Diary, sitting here contemplating, in the timber brick house of an old woman, a Mrs Lithebe, who is kind enough to rent me a room to stay in whilst in Johannesburg.

I gaze back on the beginning of my solitary and dangerous journey to this distant land.... the white run Johannesburg. I can almost see myself like a weary prophet taking a biblical sojourn to Sodom, seeking out my loved lost members of my family, who left the simplicity and safety of our beloved Ndotsheni for they lights of the big unkind city.

I fear for my sister Gertrude who I hear has become ill, and mostly my beloved son Absolom, who has disappeared into the unforgiving darkness as surly as the original Absolom of the old Testament was lost to king David. May Tixo be with them and watch over them.

I arrived today in this concrete jungle with great high buildings, there are red and green lights on them, which what I am told are traffic lights.

When they turn green you my go when they turn red you halt and stop. There are thousands of people rushing and wandering the congested streets. The noise is immense. Cars and buses one behind the other, more than I could of Imagined. I was cheated by a young but respectable looking man at first, one of the many lessons I will learn on my journey. Thank you Tixo, for helping me find the enigmatic but helpful Father Msimangu, who I hope will help me on my search.

The journey has begun, and I fear again, the fear of the unknown, the fear of the great city where small boys are killed crossing the street, the fear of Gertrudes sickness. Deep down the fear for my son. Deep down the fear of a man who lives in a world not made for him. Tixo watch over me.... for I fear that this search will change my life forever.

Rev. Stephen Kumalo.