The Fani Punch

*INDEPENDENCE* Guest Post By Munya Dembenuzani Just the thought of the word makes my blood rise. It makes me wanna hide. Scores of people annually march to the tide. Growing up, I was always expected to be in doors by 6, chastisement was the mode of the day as it was "the only way I could understand". I always topped the chats on the noisemakers list when I thought I was trying to voice my opinions. What if i'm highly dependent on mama n papa?, If I can't walk freely without an ID or if I can't shout " bullshit". Am I eligible to attend the "independence fete?". What if I'm unemployed?, do I celebrate the declared holiday? Ohhhh wait a minute, wasn't I on holiday all along? Or was I ? Anyways let me get back to cooking (mbambaira ne madhumbe angu ayaaa zvisat zvatsva) what else can I do if I can't Independently buy bread hangu Kkkkkk *murisei henyu ikoko...*

MY INTUITION (Conscious Realization)   # 104MhlangaAvenue By Richard Fani My state of mind is compromised. I move left and right, back and forth, I see forces around me influencing and patronizing my intelligence. My vision is a blur, I hear a thousand voices in my head but still got limited choices. Fake friends all around me, no love in the promised land. What is it I'm talking about? Is this a poem or a random story? Is this about Richard Fani or some Mbare kid? This is more than just about 104 Mhlanga Avenue, this is about the people confused and mentally baffled around the world. They appealed to my conscious with bling bling and cash money. Prophets and pastors talking about instant riches and instant money in the bank. Politicians, poli-teaching just bought my vote with a bag of maize and a promised land. Playing with our fantasies, killing our hopes, ruining the future of the little boys and girls in the ghetto streets. Now brothers are slanging and thugging whilst t...