Work in Progress 

For just one moment in the night

I am complete, my soul takes flight.

For just one moment ... then it's

gone and I am once again undone.

Never complete. Never whole.

White skin and an African soul....

"Homeland" by Michelle Frost

A Kalanga Legend :

Whoever is brave and hardy enough to follow the flight of Jobella the Firebird to its nesting place, will find riches beyond measure.

Flight of the Firebird:

"One day the little Bushman looked down from his lofty mountain high and the sight he beheld brought horror to his humble heart. The north eastern plains again trembled with the dull thunder of marching feet. Ebony skins gleaming like black velvet with the sweat of their forced march, clothed in leopard skins and decorative plumage, with beaded anklets and bracelets, and carrying their long shields and short, stabbing assegais, the snaking lines of Shaka Zulu's marching indunas were a sight to strike terror into the bravest of men. Borne on the wind, the Bushman could smell the stench of burning flesh, and he heard the anguished cries and screams of terrified women and children, and the clamour and turmoil of men locked in mortal battle."

This story is about love, ambition, greed, lust and pride; it is about the fortunes and failures of one family's quest for happiness. It is also a story about a black man's search for his own place and identity in a white man's world. It is a story about what makes a man - an ordinary, gentle and thinking man embrace the doctrine of terrorism. Set in colonial Africa, against the exotic panorama of that fascinating continent; its culture, its beauty and its mystery; the story spans two continents and three generations caught up by circumstances in a war that has no victor - only the vanquished.

"Woe to these despised people who have cast their pale shadows upon our land! I call on the great spirits to ensure that they, and all their descendants, will never know true peace in this land as long as even one black man stands as a reminder of their greed." The powerful prophetess placed a gnarled and wrinkled hand on the child's head. "This child has received the gifts bestowed on me by our ancient ones. She will carry the seed of the accursed white man's destruction. From the loins of her offspring a mighty warrior will be born who will one day lead our people out of the white man's bondage. By the spilling of their blood will he avenge the theft of our land. And it will surely be so, for this very day the spirits have spoken!"