By Phelelani Makhanya
Dear white people
We are not begging you to like us.
We are not even begging for the flake of love and empathy you give to cats and dogs and rhinos and parrots.
We are not even begging for the crumb of care you give to rose bushes and lawn.
We didn't force our way into to this planet.
By the time we opened our eyes we were already here.
We don't know why and how.
It was not our decision that this planet will be cohabited.
We didn't know that melanin was a sin.
Even if we knew, what choice did we have?
We are not even begging you to extinguish the hate you have for us.
Water it, groom it, inflate it to your hearts' content.
Defend it, justify it, wave it like superiority entitlement flag,
if that gives you a comfortable cushion.
But can you allow us in this pale blue dot of the milky-way galaxy, a space and moments to live with dignity, like every plant and creature and micro organism that unknowingly finds itself in this speck of rock and water.
Everyday, we are going through a lot.
Can you please give us a break...
Can you please pretend like we don't exist; you don't see us.
Because it is our sight that sends you to nausea overdrive.
Can you pretend like the last night's full moon didn't shine for black people too.
For this... we are begging you.
From a fed up human being who was involuntarily catapulted from star dust.
Phelelani Makhanya is a published award winning writer/poet.
IOL