Your entire community — however you define that; your hometown, your neighborhood, your family, your colleagues — is guaranteed to read your blog tomorrow. Write the post you’d like them all to see.
To you, my community, my hometown, my people, my very roots:
I feel a bit like John, when he wrote to the communities in Revelations…
How shall I address thee? My friends? You are certainly not! My fellow space-occupiers? Maybe, because I refuse to be associated with you as fellow-journeymen (and -women) any longer.
Yes I’m angry. Very. You have disappointed me in so many ways. Caused disillusion. Festered…hate.
Let’s kick off with your fascination with gossip. Do you have any idea what that caused? How much damage you do by spreading false and twisted confabulations, sniggering behind your hands and pointing fingers in the most unobtrusive ways? Do you, in your quiet moments (if there are any) consider Truth to be sacred?
Oh, and you good, God-fearing Christian. church-going folk: do you know why I refuse to attend your services any longer? Where is your Love, your kindness, your compassion? Why have you become obsessed with finances and numbers, forgetting the helping hand to the downtrodden, the weak, the widow and the addicted? Aren’t you supposed to show at least a bit of compassion? Or – heaven help us – at least some caring? Is there any use in preparing well-worded sermons for Sunday; but for the rest of the week God must please visit other towns, because it is hugely uncomfortable to accommodate Him in your everyday lives?
And what about the shebeens, those upstanding entrepreneurs, who make fortunes by serving alcohol to all ages? The drug lords, going about freely with the full knowledge of our policemen? Maybe it’s not their fault, after all – where are the parents? Do they know where their children are at night? Care what they do? Instill in them a sense of respect, responsibility, ambition to dream about a better future?
Oh, and Mister Schoolmaster? I simply abhor your students ambling aimlessly through town with the pants hanging low enough to entertain all and sundry with the exquisite view of the boxers barely covering the bums. That, of course from behind. From the front, the future leader of big business, the leaders of tomorrow, must have his shirt hanging out over the sagging pants. You want me to be impressed by the education you’re offering? Well, I’m not.
Then there’s the question of punctuality. Read the word carefully and then look it up in Webster’s. Or Google it. Punctuality…the art of respecting other peoples concept of when you said you’d be there, or finish the job. Don’t promise what you can’t deliver…
Sure, you have good attributes too. The traffic cop at the 40 km/h (downhill) zone with his camera is a real bonus. I can really see you are extremely keen to curtail criminal offences in town. And yes, how quick you are to ask…you’re good with that. I’m trying to remember when you gave something back – can you?
So, dear community: I’m prepared to take a hard, long look at myself. I’m maybe cynical. What about you?
So why, do you ask, don’t I move somewhere else?
I can’t. I’m here. I’m a person.
I’m not without my faults. I’m obstinate. I live my own life and I don’t go about making life difficult for anybody. I’ll stay, whether you mind or not.
But please. Please! Allow me the privilege t live in harmony with you. I promise not to speed down that hill, sell drugs to kids or gossip. What’s more, I’ll take the pastor seriously when he preaches about love.
So, when you all read this blog tomorrow: let bygones be bygones. Lets start afresh…