World Anger

I’m thinking of becoming a hermit to hide from all this anger in the world. I can go to a deserted island and live on clean air and water, fruit, fish and vegetables. Delete that. There’s nothing like a deserted island. It was someone’s land and water. The British called it deserted because it didn’t have the Union Jack, so they planted one. No, I’m not angry, I’m stating a fact.

Back to world anger, being a hermit won’t help because I cannot hide from it. It yells at me every time I open this machine. Maybe the anger has always been there. We didn’t notice because there were no cellphones so it was contained in a country, a region, a religion or industry.

Anger on the basketball court and hockey rink has always been there, very infantile if you look at it. NBA and NHL have rules and regulations on how tall mature men should behave like kids, and not fight over toys. We thought tennis had decorum, a word that reeks of class and privilege. How? Servants, mistresses and British subjects must behave in a certain way in the presence of royalty and aristocracy.

Tennis also has anger, starting with fans that shout on top of their lungs, to players that smash rackets on the ground. Some go on and question the empire’s decision, which is all digital nowadays. The computer shows you where the ball landed, on the line or out. I cannot sign off without talking about anger, prompted by politicians. 

They make decisions that affect women and children. It’s very sad to see them running away with belongings wrapped in sheets, after another power hungry African soldier dethrones the sitting president. School girls in the north of Nigeria are kidnapped at gunpoint in the name of religion and made ‘wives’ by so-called liberators.

That is why I want to be a hermit, to shield myself from an angry world, but what happens to this computer and the phone, since this two-some is the Uber driver that brings the anger to my door step?

By:  Nonqaba waka Msimang.