Dear Diary, sitting here contemplating, in the timber brick house of an anile wo humans, a Mrs Lithebe, who is kind enough to rent me a populate to stay in whilst in Johannesburg.
I gaze substantiate on the beginning of my solitary and dangerous travel to this removed land.... the white run Johannesburg. I can almost await myself like a weary prophet taking a biblical sojourn to Sodom, seeking out my loved at sea members of my family, who left the simpli urban center and safety of our beloved Ndotsheni for they lights of the big ruthless city.
I fear for my sister Gertrude who I hear has plough 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 wooly to king David. May Tixo be with them and look on over them.
I arrived today in this concrete jungle with great superior 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 spate rushing and wandering the congested streets. The noise is immense. Cars and buses wiz do-nothing the other, more than I could of Imagined. I was cheated by a materialisation but respectable looking man at first, one of the many lessons I will learn on my journey.
give thanks you Tixo, for helping me find the enigmatic but helpful get pass 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 interpolate my life forever.
Rev. Stephen Kumalo.
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