Eugene Terreblanche
" One white racist dies, the whole world goes crazy. Hundreds of blacks get killed time and again, it’s never an issue."
Hope Easter went well for you. Most public holidays in NZ only bring sadness as I start to think of good old public holidays we used to enjoy in Africa. I remember those days we would go to Jongwe school or under that big Muchakata tree at Ganyani township from Friday night to Monday morning for pungwes, all night singing, dancing and praying. Such was Easter.
Christmas was all about wearing new clothes, eating goats, chicken and rice. The other year my uncle failed to get rice for Christmas because he went to Ganyani store a bit too late. You had to book the rice, bread and coca cola weeks in advance. Failing to do so meant spending Christmas without eating such special meals and that would make a mother, father or uncle very unpopular with the family. When my uncle failed to find the rice he settled for spaghetti, and guess what, I had never heard of anything called spaghetti until that day, Christmas of 1988. It took 16 years of my life to eat spaghetti for the first time and I was very grateful that he couldn’t find rice because I found the spaghetti so YUM. Better than rice. In Africa we never take things for granted, especially food. Here we throw food in rubbish bags and turn away with no feelings at all. It’s normal to “chuck” it in the bin.
One thing I find amazing about Kiwis is they don’t believe in God. Some laugh at you if you tell them about going to church to pray or even if they see you reading a verse from the bible. They look at you funny, but come Easter or Christmas holiday, they are the first to celebrate like crazy. Drinking, partying, buying presents that they sell in garage sales the next month. If they don’t believe in God, why then do they celebrate such holidays as Easter and Christmas? Why not say, hey, I don’t believe in God, don’t bother me with Christmas! But anyway, I think we are all guilty in some way because Christmas, truly speaking, it’s not really Christ’s real birthday. It’s some Greek god’s birthday.
I guess for many people it’s not really celebrating the meaning of the holiday itself but just taking a great chance to booze and the like, just as we Africans would celebrate Anzac day which has no meaning to us.
This week I am in bad mood. A very bad mood. One white racist dies, the whole world goes crazy. Hundreds of blacks get killed time and again, it’s never an issue. I’m talking of the death of Eugene TerreBlanche, the racist South African who was recently killed in what was said to be a pay dispute which is turning out to be something else after investigations indicating that the man was killed in a gay orgy. Maybe he didn’t pay his African lovers and they finished him.
There was a lot of noise a few days ago the world over about the death of this man and white South Africans came in full force calling it a racist attack and so on.Tthey even talked of revenging. Hey, who is to revenge here? How about a black man who was fed to lions a few years ago? Did we revenge? And another dragged behind a moving truck? And many more who were murdered by white racists? If we had to revenge then we would kill nearly every white in South Africa and most parts of Africa. Whites came to our continent and caused so much suffering to us.
South African youth president, Julius Malema is being blamed for the death of TerreBlanche because he has been going around singing the song “dhubula Ibunu” (shoot the Boer) which was recently banned in SA. I don’t care who killed TerreBlanche . Dhubula Ibunu. Racist Boers must pay the price. They live by the sword, they die by the sword.
Hope Easter went well for you. Most public holidays in NZ only bring sadness as I start to think of good old public holidays we used to enjoy in Africa. I remember those days we would go to Jongwe school or under that big Muchakata tree at Ganyani township from Friday night to Monday morning for pungwes, all night singing, dancing and praying. Such was Easter.
Christmas was all about wearing new clothes, eating goats, chicken and rice. The other year my uncle failed to get rice for Christmas because he went to Ganyani store a bit too late. You had to book the rice, bread and coca cola weeks in advance. Failing to do so meant spending Christmas without eating such special meals and that would make a mother, father or uncle very unpopular with the family. When my uncle failed to find the rice he settled for spaghetti, and guess what, I had never heard of anything called spaghetti until that day, Christmas of 1988. It took 16 years of my life to eat spaghetti for the first time and I was very grateful that he couldn’t find rice because I found the spaghetti so YUM. Better than rice. In Africa we never take things for granted, especially food. Here we throw food in rubbish bags and turn away with no feelings at all. It’s normal to “chuck” it in the bin.
One thing I find amazing about Kiwis is they don’t believe in God. Some laugh at you if you tell them about going to church to pray or even if they see you reading a verse from the bible. They look at you funny, but come Easter or Christmas holiday, they are the first to celebrate like crazy. Drinking, partying, buying presents that they sell in garage sales the next month. If they don’t believe in God, why then do they celebrate such holidays as Easter and Christmas? Why not say, hey, I don’t believe in God, don’t bother me with Christmas! But anyway, I think we are all guilty in some way because Christmas, truly speaking, it’s not really Christ’s real birthday. It’s some Greek god’s birthday.
I guess for many people it’s not really celebrating the meaning of the holiday itself but just taking a great chance to booze and the like, just as we Africans would celebrate Anzac day which has no meaning to us.
This week I am in bad mood. A very bad mood. One white racist dies, the whole world goes crazy. Hundreds of blacks get killed time and again, it’s never an issue. I’m talking of the death of Eugene TerreBlanche, the racist South African who was recently killed in what was said to be a pay dispute which is turning out to be something else after investigations indicating that the man was killed in a gay orgy. Maybe he didn’t pay his African lovers and they finished him.
There was a lot of noise a few days ago the world over about the death of this man and white South Africans came in full force calling it a racist attack and so on.Tthey even talked of revenging. Hey, who is to revenge here? How about a black man who was fed to lions a few years ago? Did we revenge? And another dragged behind a moving truck? And many more who were murdered by white racists? If we had to revenge then we would kill nearly every white in South Africa and most parts of Africa. Whites came to our continent and caused so much suffering to us.
South African youth president, Julius Malema is being blamed for the death of TerreBlanche because he has been going around singing the song “dhubula Ibunu” (shoot the Boer) which was recently banned in SA. I don’t care who killed TerreBlanche . Dhubula Ibunu. Racist Boers must pay the price. They live by the sword, they die by the sword.
Julius Malema
This man wanted to form a white state in South Africa. Whose South Africa are we talking about here? Why not go to Holland or Britain and tell the queen that they want their own state there? Africa is for Africans. I don’t mind white Africans who have Africa at heart. Africa is for all of us no matter what colour, but people like TerreBlanche have no place on our continent. Hell is the best place for them.
Dubula Ibunu!
This man wanted to form a white state in South Africa. Whose South Africa are we talking about here? Why not go to Holland or Britain and tell the queen that they want their own state there? Africa is for Africans. I don’t mind white Africans who have Africa at heart. Africa is for all of us no matter what colour, but people like TerreBlanche have no place on our continent. Hell is the best place for them.
Dubula Ibunu!
By Stanley Makuwe
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written by coach sunglasses , August 03, 2010
written by coach sunglasses , August 03, 2010
A mother and son were washing dishes while the father and daughter were watching TV in the room. Suddenly, there
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was a crash of breaking dishes, then mbt outletcomplete silence.
The girl looked at her father and said, “It was Mom”。
“How do you know?” asked her coach handbags father.
“She didn"t say anything.”
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there may have been another way to isolate him but i don't feel he should have been murdered should this be the determined the way in which he died.
I'm not sad to see him go that's for sure though!