I Am A Goffal
I am a Goffal........
We owe my life to the streams and the flat lands that roll in between the dry streets. To the grass, the childhood adventures; the rivers, the warm summers and breezy winters. The dry streets and the guidance of the old folk that made sure that despite the grading of the mountains they climbed, they always made sure that we were fed, clothed and strong. We owe it to the togetherness of the community, as nosey as they may have been to protect and guide. To the fact that everyone knew everyone.... Just like the way the aspects of nature gel into each other. The fact that the sun means nothing without the moon, like the wind matters nil unless it rains .like the soil cannot produce unless littered with seed. We owe it to the matchboxes that would give rise to a unique breed of people. From the winding roads and grasslands that separated awesomeness from the rest, littered with the picturesque colours of children clad like the beautiful flowers and trees that bloomed in every season.
The dry days were filled with the crisp grass dry enough to warm the nights; From the humility of elderly folk that by many factors measure much bigger and larger than life itself. That between the daylight and the darkened skies of the night one would hear the sounds of parents on their knees praying a greater power; raising offspring that through time would be littered across foreign lands creating fiefdoms of their own. We get our unique identity from the history of the marauding white man and the curvaceous dark skinned women; filled with the swag and rythm of the African soul. Between the two creating a catalogue of golden brown skinned colours. A colour so intense that the lighter skin would tan and the darker skin would bleach; just to be of the same skin tone.
Weekends were filled with soul... Sport fields and facilities that United and created the ambience of a well knit community. The night times were audible to the ears as the laughter rang out and the music blared. The BG Hall and Whitehouse and other community places; filled with happy souls that amplified the sounds of rhythm and blues,
ballads, and rock n roll on the odd occasions; just like the special meal prepared when visitors came over. Sunday's became quiet again as the unique people braced their energies and kids to the week ahead. Songs rang out in the churches as homes prepared the traditional Sunday meals and chilled for the day. Now and then the crowds descended on the sport fields to pay homage to the community teams and sounds of "Auntie cookie" and "spoon it George".
We get my identity from the wiser men and women that have come before me... From their even wiser fathers, mothers, and grand folk. From the places that were peppered with every form and character that one could ever remember.... From Arcadia, Trenance, BG, Nashville, Que Que, Braeside, Sunninghill, Westpark, Aberdene, waterfalls, St Martins, Rangemore, Florida, Northlea, Thorngrove, Shamrock, Forestvale, Eastlea, Glenwood, Bar 20, Sabanga Park. The places where we were confined to people of the same nature..of the same mind; of the same thoughts. Places where in the minds of the others we were defined as children of the lessor God; Places that were so small with the same difference. Places that as history would have it; Neva grew..... The "Goffals" certainly are unique. Fearless by nature and sharper than the blade...
One thing that people outside of these circles Neva knew, was that these places would be the breeding grounds of great people; people so great that if put together form the perfect jigsaw that tells a story of the unique "Goffal" people. The very existence of these places littered with the education of distant memories created with the help of primary and high schools, social culture and cohesion greater than the highest mountains of the motherland; places with roads carved and meandering with greatness, entwined by a history of unity, love, kindness, respect and values more much greater than hands digging in the deepest pockets.
Lawyers, doctors, specialists, movie stars, singers, beggars, artisans that had the strength enough to hold any nation together, nurses, judges, entrepreneurs, sportsmen and women that would captain and lead nations, accountants, plant operators, drivers, technicians, wives and mothers, fathers and providers. Men and women of the soil, people that toil.
Yes some were stronger than the others.... People of different shades of brown.
Yes... I am a "Goffal". Proud by nature, strong in mind and soul. Born from the front line.
