i come from a Kasi shaded in brown,
where taxis hum like heartbeats, drums in the morning,
and the aroma of street Kotas carries the warmth of my Kasi,
a place where laughter is louder than the noise of violent struggles,
and children dream in between power cuts and unfulfilled promises.
i am the son of resilience and victory
raised in Orange Farm’s loudest corners,
where hope is gathered through hardships and struggles.
i walk with the spirit of those who have fearlessly walked before me and my parents,
i, son of Dikeledi, still carry my books like a shield,
and treat the lecture room like a deadly battlefield
a young black man, four years into a pedagogical dream,
that my forefathers claimed from the white Boers,
who relentlessly tortured their bodies and souls,
till the day their spirits and souls left their flesh.
i have made choices with my trembling hands,
i have managed to push past poverty’s weight and unemployment’s silence,
some nights i wonder if i belong here,
at Wits, where knowledge defied apartheid’s grip,
where black minds were once buried in gold mines,
and now thrive boldly.
A century of learning and uplifting communities.
its halls echo with voices that have concurred on what is called
THE WITS EDGE
i hold my history like a torch in the dark,
not to mourn it, but to light the way forward,
for each generation that will follow.
In each class,
In each test,
i fight the sense of failure
and i evoke the sense of accomplishment
each day i grow, not just into the future,
but into myself.
This is a young boy from the homesteads of Orange farm, who is currently enrolled at Wits university and doing his first year at wits. He is courageous and confident. Believing that nothing can tand in his way to success.