2010 SOCCER WORLD CUP in pics

32 teams
64 matches
8 groups
6 African nations

South Africa (Group A) Mexico, France, Uruguay - Mexico, Uruguay (16) - Uruguay (QF)
Nigeria (Group B) Argentina, Greece, Korea Rep - Korea Rep, Argentina (16) Argentina (QF)
Algeria (Group C) England, USA, Slovenia - USA, England (16)
Ghana (Group D) Germany, Serbia, Australia - Ghana, Germany (16) Ghana (QF), Germany (QF)
Cameroon (Group E) Japan, Denmark, Netherlands - Japan, Netherlands (16)
Ivory Coast (Group G) Korea DPR, Brazil, Portugal - Portugal, Brazil (16)
Group F Italy, Slovakia, Paraguay, New Zealand - Slovakia, Paraguay (16)
Group H Honduras, Chile, switzerland, Spain - Spain, Chile (16)

The South African organised FIFA world cup kicked off without many glitches on 11 June 2010.
Thats if you're not counting the billions of rands spent on infrastructure and stadia in the space of 6years when not much was done with the available resources to uplift the lives of the citizens in the 16years of free rule.
Thats also if you dont count the thousands who lost their temporary employment during the world cup when they got paid less than what they were told by Stallion Security Consortium.

Other than those sore points, the opening match was between the hosts, South Africa -Bafana, and Central Americans, Mexico. Bafana Bafana drew the match with Mexico 1-1, Siphiwe Tshabalala scored a beauty of a goal for Bafana.
Mexico went through the round of 16, and lost to Argentina - another bad referee decision (allowed an offside as goal (Teves), which demoralised the Mexicans).

The number 17 Mexican forward set the TV screens ablaze, with his quick moves on the pitch and God given good looks, thank you God!
Feast your eyes on Giovani Dos Santos...






The next hurdle was the South American, Uruguay team. They clobbered us 3-0, thanks to a bad decision by referee Bussaca when he gave a red card to golden goalkeeper, Itumeleng Khune. Whats even worse is that scoring opportunity by Suarez was an offside!



The blue eyed blonde, Diego Forlan, made no mistakes and buried the tricky Jobulani ball in the goal net. Bafana dropped their game and lost the match. Uruguay went through the round of 16, and progressed to the Quarter finals to face Ghana.





The final group A match was with 1998 champions and 2006 winners France. France just barely made it to South Africa with the alleged Thierry Henry handball goal against Ireland.
They didnt do well when they got here either, drew with Uruguay, lost to Mexico and Bafana. There was animosity within the French camp, involving coach Domenech. Les bleu bowed out of the competition in the first round. Thierry Henry didnt get much match time either.





The group I was watching with great interest is group A with Bafana, and Dos Santos as an added bonus. Bafana made history, by being the 1st host nation to bow out in the group stages. But they left fighting and kicking in the last match with Les Bleu, winning 2-1. Goals by Bongani Khumalo and Katlego Mphela.

The 2006 defending champs, Italy, were kicked out in the group stages by Slovakia. I celebrated with Zinedine Zidane, dont you just love karma! France were the rightful champs for 2006!



For the first time Six African countries participated, and I followed these and wanted them to go further.
Only Ghana went past the group stages into the round of 16, where they sent the USA packing. They face Uruguay in the Quarter finals. Ghana has a couple of hotties in Andre Ayew and Kevin Prince Boateng.






Kevin Boateng, scored a goal in the round of 16 match that brought USA to its knees in their 2-1 victory!





Didier Drogba, Ivory Coast



Ivory coast was in the toughest group with Portugal and 5time winners, Brazil. Portugal beat Korea DPR 7-0 and made it extra hard for the Ivorians to stage a comeback.
They drew with Portugal, beat Korea and the higlight was the match with Brazil. Fabiano used his hands when he scored, the referee saw it and let it go. But as karma would have it, Keita, an Ivorian took a leaf from the Brazillians and gave a theatrical dive when Kaka elbowed him. Kaka got a red card.
The mighty elephants didnt make the circle bigger as they exited in the group stages as well.


Victor Enyeama, Nigeria



Saved many possible goals during the group stages for his country, but sadly the Super Eagles didnt soar in this 2010 tournament.
Nigeria came up against South Korea, they were subdued by Argentina, and got a red card during the match with Greece.In a moment of craziness, Kaita kicked a Greek player out of the blue. He woke up to an inbox full of death threats the next day. Soccer is a beautiful game of passion!


Samuel Etoo, Cameroon



The Indomitable lions of Cameroon had the poorest showing during this tournament. They failed to live up to their reputation and illustrious history of previous tournaments.

Algeria, the Desert Foxes

Were in Group C along with England, USA and Slovenia. USA and England passed to the group of 16, and were both knocked out. England had the best names in English Premiership, but had a dismal showing.
Their match with Germay had poor refereeing again, disallowing a Lampard goal, and they crumbled to a 4-1 loss to Germany.
The US met with Ghana, Boateng scored to give advantage to the Africans. USA got a free kick and scored, they mostly score from set pieces. Gyan nailed the Yankee coffin in extra time with a brilliant goal, seeing the Black Stars to a 2-1 victory and a spot in the Quarter finals.
~INFINITE SHINE~ Black Stars of Ghana, the hope of Africa!

Quarter Finals

Ghana v Uruguay (Ghana)
Germany v Argentina (Argentina)
Brazil v Netherlands (Netherlands)
Spain v Paraguay (Spain)

VS Yonke 2010

The music died in June

The music died in June
Black rosebud in bloom
Gone too soon, much too soon

The sun fashioned August
Your breaths sprinkled in stardust
In time's script your role was cast
Fifty, the years you graced Earth
Moonwalking on your destined path
Compassion surpassing material wealth
Neverending faith in healing Earth

Off The Wall dance moves Thrilled
To humanity's heart your lyrics appealed
Bad and Dangerous you were labelled
Innocent of all charges you were declared
Innocent in millions of hearts you remained

In History's tablets, your life Invicible

The music died in June
Black rose gone too soon
In our hearts in full bloom


© 2009 V S Yonke

In remembrance
Michael J Jackson
29 August 1958 - 25 June 2009

The circle of life

An overzealous sperm cell aims for the bulls eye, the ovum. In a race with million other sperm cells, its survival of the fittest.
The sperm cell travels on an arduous journey towards its destination to fertilize the ovum. Life is created.

The mating of the sperm cell and the ovum forms a new creature which develops in the womb over a period of nine months. The carrier of this new life, woman, delivers the creature to the second stage. A child is born.

Infancy. Childhood. Teenagehood. Adulthood. Infancy. The cycle, thus, is complete.


My childhood was wonderful, having the basics that keep any child happy: doting parents under one roof, toys, playmates and infinite fun.
My friends were my extended family, discovering and playing together until the sun hid from the moon.
Growing up in a humble four roomed home in the dusty streets of Zwide, Port Elizabeth.
Bred in the era of 'my child is your child' and 'your mother is my mother'. A place where innocence roamed freely on the streets,
and respect had a perpetual presence.
I never noticed anything amiss or any cracks in our family, but I see now with the gift of hindsight.

My maternal grandfather stayed with us, his home was in Peddie, the rural areas of Eastern Cape. Old age wreaked havoc in his life, and could no longer live independently.
Of his seven children, my mother took him into our home. My father would look after him, and he was a handful.
My grandfather would get longings of his home in Peddie, and when he did... Beware!
When the great yearning for his home came, he would bundle up his bedding, sheets, blankets and all. He had one of those grey Pep blankets, and he
would roll them up and put them over his shoulder and when no one was looking make his grand escape. The urge to go home would come any time of the day,
morning, evening, even after midnight.
At times he would have a succesful escape and reach Peddie. He usually never got far though, we would find him at the local police station, or at a home where they know my mother.
On one of his unsuccessful attempts at escape he bundled up his bedding, thew it over the gate, then his shoes followed over the gate.
He climbed the gate, got on top but didnt land. His long, grey coat got caught on a piece of wire, and he was left high, and dry.
Passerby's were amused at the old man hanging out, and one took the new pair of shoes mom had bought for him that he'd thrown over.
These are amongst the fond memories of my childhood home, my parents and grandfather.

It turns out, my grandfather had a medical condition, Alzheimers. It attacks the mind during old age, with loss of memory mainly associated with it.
Grandfather could recollect past memories of his home but wouldnt remember the names of the people around him.
He was strong willed and strict but Alzheimers rendered him dependent, but his strong will remained.
He passed away on 10 May 1994.

Fast forward to June 2010. Cape Town. Mother and Daughter. Repeat of my grandfather's episodes, in a milder form.
The moment that I knew that, "Houston, we have a problem" is when the tap water was left running in the bathroom sink and overflowed. But, anyone can make this mistake.
Then, the water was left running in the sink, luckily the stopper was not closed. Then it overflowed again.
Now, I have to check all the taps and the stoves so we dont get a flood, or fire.

Isnt it just funny, the circle of life?
Zygote. Embryo. Infanct. Teenager. Adult. Infant stage again.
From an overachieving student, a capable nurse, homemaker, independent woman, and now reduced to infant stages needing constant supervision.
And I have the guardian role to fulfil, its the least I can do.
My mother gets those longings to go back to Port Elizabeth. Before she gets it into her head to jump over the gate, I will indulge her and we take a short Shot left to PE.
All I can do is hope that I can have someone who would do the same for me if I should get to that stage later in life.

2010 SOCCER WORLD CUP: FIFA Fraud

JOHANNESBURG. ‘Fingers’ Blatter, the shadowy head of an international money-making syndicate known as ‘Feefa’, says he is pleased with the final preparations ahead of the start of his latest caper, codenamed Operation Rob The Gullible Darkies Blind While Convincing Them This Was Their Idea, also known as the World Cup. “Eeeexcellent,” murmured Blatter stroking his pet iguana.

Forensic investigators suggest that once the month-long heist is complete, Blatter and his international gang will have made off with around $2-billion in profit, while its victims – the South African taxpayer – will be around $1-billion poorer.

“It’s a brilliant scheme,” explained lead investigator Papertrail Nyanda.

“South Africa spends about $4-billion, of which it will recoup about $2.7-billion. Either way, Fingers and his gang walk away with their two billion.

“In other words, the South African government is suckered into burning $1.3 billion it doesn’t have to create a massive smokescreen behind which Fingers and the lads make their getaway.

“It’s money for nothing and the chicks for free.”

Meanwhile Blatter confirmed that Operation Rob The Gullible Darkies Blind While Convincing Them This Was Their Idea was on track for a smooth execution later this week.

“The amazing thing is that they still don’t suspect anything,” he chortled, tossing chocolate raisins to his iguana, Danny Jordaan.

“They think it’s about football, the poor bumpkins!”

He said none of the expected hitches had occurred.

“We weren’t sure how we were going to get the loot out of the country undetected,” he said. “But then they changed the laws of the Republic and made my guys exempt from tax laws and exchange controls.

“Short of actually being accomplices they couldn’t have been nicer.”

Meanwhile the government is adamant that hosting the World Cup was the right thing to do, despite half the country being unemployed and a third living in abject poverty.

“Yes, we could have used that R40-billion to build 700,000 RDP houses,” said spokesman Circus Maximus Magubane.

“But if we had done that then Wayne Rooney would never have come here and actually touched us.

“I am never washing my hand again, ever.”

Meanwhile five million South Africans have also confirmed that they will not be washing their hands again, ever, largely because they do not have access to clean running water. 

(written by Hayibo!)

2010 SOCCER WORLD CUP recap

Just a week since the long awaited soccer world cup began, and a lot of drama has ensued since.
The opening concert started things off with a bang, Alicia Keys gracing our stages with love child in belly!
Angelique Kidjo and John Legend did a duet of the Amstel Advert song, it was great!
The Blk Jax revived the crowd with the Joina Umzabalazo song.
Shakira was a showstopper lip-syncing She wolf and Waka Waka, her hips didnt lie, though.

We woke up to the sad news of the passing of Mandela's great granddaughter in a one car crash, isnt karma just a bitch. The sins of the father are indeed visited upon his next generation.
It didnt dampen the spirits as the vuvuzela were the only audible sounds in the streets, and a sea of golden Bafana shirts.
And the boys didnt dissapoint, drawing 1-1 with Mexico on the opening match at Soccer city. Our hopes rode high, as we foresaw Bafana Bafana lifting the world cup trophy.

But it wasnt to be, as our dreams were dashed by the Swiss referee, Busacca.
During the S.A vs Uruguay match, the referee made the worst decision in world cup history by giving a red card to goalkeeper, Itumeleng Khune, leaving only 10 players in the field. Uruguay proceeded to win the match with a 3-0 score.


CAPE TOWN. I knew that this Swiss referee Busacca was an agent, so I conducted a bit background investigation. Busacca was courting former beauty queen, Jacqui Mofokeng. She turned him down on numerous counts, leaving him jilted and scorned. He swore revenge. Last night he got reveng on Khune, Jacqui's boy toy.
More on www.vuyokaziyonke.blogspot.com


Crossing over to the Hayibo offices, they report:

PRETORIA. Massimo Busacca, the Swiss referee who officiated over Bafana’s loss to Uruguay last night, was said this morning to be “a little tired” after a night spent cowering under his blankets waiting for a machete to split his door open. Soccer pundits have responded that it is probably customary for Busacca to sleep with one eye open as he also appears to referee with only one eye open.

Following South Africa’s decisive 3-0 loss to Uruguay in their second game of the World Cup last night, a nation united by grief has unanimously voted to adopt the Swiss referee as official scapegoat.

“The other option was Diego Forlan,” explained Bafana Supporters’ Association chairperson Revenge Madoda. “But we believe that man has very powerful muti in his alice-band that we don’t want to be messing with.”

Massimo Bussaca, whose name is rumoured to translate into English as ‘Maximum Butt-Sack’, awarded a controversial penalty in the 76th minute after a foul which saw goalkeeper Itumeleng Khune sent off. A lengthy gap ensued, during which time someone in the crowd who once brought on the halftime water-bottles for Kaiser Chiefs volunteered to become the replacement goalie.

“It was really nice of him,” confirmed coach Carlos Parreira. “We weren’t sure if he would fit into Khune’s shoes but as it turns out, they’re both a size ten. So that was a relief.

“And we asked him what he’s doing next Tuesday night, and he said he had plans to go to a braai but he could probably get out of it, so we’re sorted for a keeper for the France match too.”

Large portions of the home crowd began leaving the stands after Uruguayan striker Forlan netted the penalty for Uruguay’s second goal.

They have since been criticised for poor spectator etiquette, but Revenge Madoda explained that this is a misunderstanding of the situation.

“Many of them had arranged to get a lift home with Khune,” he said. “He has a sweet pimped-up kombi and you know what it’s like, when your lift leaves, you have to leave too.”

Since the game, South African police officials have announced that the Swiss referee will be assigned “around-the-clock security”.

“By which we mean that if he agrees to stay in a small holding pen around that big clock in the central courtyard of Sandton Square, no serious harm will come to him,” explained a spokesman.

“If the holding pen happens to have large gaps between the bars, through which a passer-by might want to poke a sharpened stick, or hurl an over-ripe tomato, we probably wouldn’t notice because we’ve got our hands full tracking down FIFA copyright infringements.”

courtesy of hayibo.com

Lest we forget

Lest we forget

and our ideals desert

as dried bones in a desert



the sacrifice made

the price paid



into earth their blood seeped

up to the sky bodies heaped



the youth of seventy six

who laid freedom's bricks



Biko, Hani, Tambo

Nalucanda uhambo (you set out the journey)

Nalufeza ugqatso (you completed the race)



Sayifumana inkululeko ngegama (we received freedom in name only)

Iziqhamo zayo anazingcamla (its fruits you never tasted)

Noko zona sezibukrakra (though they have become sour)

Ulutsha lusifa yingculaza (the youth dying of aids)



Ngamaxa ndizive ndizibuza (at times I ask myself)

Yiyo lenkululeko na (is this the freedom)

Ubomi benu nazincama (you sacrificed your lives)

Vukani sizwe esimnyama (rise up black nation)



Eternally you slept

Silently we wept

Let us not forget



Let the words of the poet

Be the truth serum to inject

Consciousness so we remain alert

To unchain our mental shackles yet

So we may not forget

And not regret, lest we forget



© Vuyokazi Yonke

Youth Celebrating Books June 2010

As part of the Youth Month, the Centre of the Book, Cape Town invited two young authors Dr. Kopano Matlwa and Thembelani Ngenelwa to celebrate books this past Saturday.

A table of welcome snacks and drinks was layed out for attendees. Each seat had a goodie bag for those in attendance, including a South African flag,and the Baobab literary journal.

The MC of the event was Siphiwo Mahala of the Department of Arts and Culture.
Nelly Lunika, the Coordinator for Community Publishing, gave an entertaining welcome speech which broke the ice along with a few laughs.

The session was interactive with the authors fielding questions from the MC and the crowd, an intimate group of around 40 people.
I was astounded by the youthfulness of Kopano and her beauty!!! She has managed to qualify as a medical doctor as well as writing two succesful books: Coconut and Spilt Milk.
She is the 2010 Winner of Wole Soyinka Prize for Literature in Africa .
Kopano Matlwa is published by Jacana Media.
Keep your eyes for the review of Spilt Milk by Fezekile Futhwa on the Afrikan Poets and Writers discussion board.

Thembelani Ngenelwa had a near death experience after being shot 5 times in Johannesburg. He has survived and lived to write the tale. His first novel is called The day I died, and it has been translated into the Xhosa language so that his mother could be able to read her son's work.
I bought myself this copy and will chalenge myself in reading the whole book in Xhosa, ndagqibela esikolweni nesiXhosa. Its called Ukuvuka kwam ekufeni.

Thembelani Ngenelwa is published by Kwela books.

A youth group perfomed poetry and dance to the sound of drums. And two poets recited their pieces for the group, including Amanda Nodada who read poetry from her book.

The closing words were by Mandla Matyumza, Executive Head of the Centre of the Book.

The event was rounded off with a book signing session before we had our lunch.
I felt very inspired by those who are taking the issue of literacy and tackling it head on. I hope these initiatives can be well known to all citizens and we can be on our way of eliminating illiteracy in South Africa.

V S Yonke

AMSTEL CLASS ACT 2010

Another reality TV show.
Amstel Lager sponsored an initiative in search of South Africa's leading man for the big screens. They ran a succesful advertising campaign for this project, South Africa's toughest film audition as its tagline. The audition venues and dates were announced.

It came onto our silver screens, courtesy of SABC1, on the 13th March 2010. I had front row seats, at home. I cant miss an opportunity to watch chancers make "fools" (lack of a better word, askies) of themselves, this is how the first episodes of reality show auditions go. If you've watched Pop Idols, then you'd know what I mean.
Countless acting hopefuls came in droves, the queue meandering to infinity.

The three judges sat on the casting couch with a full day of either ecstacy or frustration ahead.
The judges were, actor, Rapulana Seiphemo (Generations, Jerusalema). Producer, Tendeka Matatu of Ten10 Films (Max and Mona). And casting agent, Moonyeen Lee of MLA.
During the taped auditions you saw the mood shifting from that of joy to annoyance, depending on the acting quality, or lack thereof amongst those who saw themselves as potential leading men.

With the judges, you have the pragmatic one, the sympathetic one, and the tyrant. Tendeka Matatu was the pragmatic, usually being the referee between Rapulana and Moonyeen.
Rapulana filled the role of the sympathetic judge, with Moonyeen Lee being the fiery, tyrannical judge. I enjoyed each time she had to make her comments to the auditionees and to fellow judges. The judges weeded through the aspirant actors to separate the chancers from the gems.



The Top Ten was chosen and the show was on the road. The guys had to perform in screen tests and the judges chose who was the best, the winner receives the Class Act of the Week award- the immunity award. These screen tests were directed by Tim Greene, of a Boy called Twist fame.

I had no clear favourites from the onset, I missed a few of the episodes when I was out.
The comedy (Class Act of the Week, Danny), the film noir (Class Act of the Week, Greg)and (the romance???)were amongst those episodes I had missed.

The first task the top ten guys had to face was acting out the role of a smooth, suave detective, bursting through police tape, rescuing women in distress and basically saving the day.
Muzi Clive won the challenge, receiving the Class Act of the Week immunity.

The following week's challenge was a heist scene, inspired by the Quintin Tarantino movie, Resevoir Dogs. Since Muzi had won the first the first challenge, all eyes were on him, but his perfomance was lacklustre.

I thought Malusi Mbele stood out as a supporting actor. He had to "die" in his scene as the main actor, I had a tear in my eye, but the judges felt differently. They shred his dying scene to pieces. He wasnt by far the judges favourite, and I supported him for that fact. He managed to garner up support from the the public voters to keep him in the running.
I also liked him during the buddy scene with Greg Parvess, it was very enjoyable and comical! But his time to go had come.

Then came the villain scene, Sdumo Mtshali (Class Act of the Week: Heist movie)was the second villain shown in that episode (after Danny Ross). Sdumo was electrifying! Unkempt hair, sculpted muscles, and a menacing pair of jumper cables! I was scared. I was scared not to vote for him. Even the feisty Moonyeen admitted that performance had terrified her too.
Greg and Muzi did well too, and Greg walked off with the Class Act of the Week immunity. Yonda Thomas received the least viewer votes, and South African ladies lost the eye candy of the show.

I usually do not vote in these sms shows, its a known gimmick to increase profits, but I had to vote for Sdumo. And that's what I did, all the way. Even if he didnt get the Class Act of the Week immunity, he was going to have our votes. This was the sentiment echoed on the walls of the Class Act Facebook page.

The action movie scenes were nothing to write home about, Danny walked off with the Class Act of the Week award, and Greg Parvess was voted off next.

The inspirational monologue was the next challenge, Greg nailed it (in green boxers), but was out of the competition. The award went to Muzi, who was the final three with Sdumo and Danny.

The showdown movie was the next task the final three had to muster, Sdumo was stellar throughout. There was no longer any immunity for the actors at this point and they relied on the viewer's votes. Danny had the least, and had to go. Leaving Sdumo and Muzi as the final two.

The final show was on the 5th of June 2010, the lines were kept open and I utilised this chance to support Sdumo and his famous yellow watch.
The guys had to play a scene for the upcoming movie, Ghetto Dangerous (huh?!), which the Class Act winner would star in.
The opening scene had the main character, Chilli Bhibiza (huh, again!), appear in white briefs, bringing coffee to Khabonina Qhubeka, in bed. Muzi looked and fit the part like a glove.

The second scene was a hostage drama, involving the main character in gun-toting glory against the bad guy and his wayward brother, Thato. Sdumo's performance outshone that of Muzi in this scene.

While the votes were being tallied, flashbacks of the past weeks higlights and lowlights were shown. Presenter, Kenneth Nkosi, interviewed both contestants before revealing the results.

It was a nerve wrecking experience, as if I was one of the final two. The winner's name was read, I screamed!
South Africa had crowned Sdumo Mtshali as the truimpant Amstel Class Act Leading Man.

Sdumo wins a place at the New York Film Academy for two months, a starring role in the Ghetto Dangerous movie and Amstel advert. He gains representation by the renowned Moonyeen Lee Agency.

Well done South Africa for voting. Well done Amstel Class Act for bringing talent worth voting for. Well done Sdumo Mtshali for setting our screens on fire!

Now I no longer have to rush home on Saturdays to be infront of the TV at 6h30pm!

The Catcher in Africa

vsyonke

You’ll probably want to hear what happened when I went home after all that madman stuff that happened after I’d flunked out of Pencey Prep.
I had to go to into the crumby sanatorium, to take it easy. But I don’t want to bore you with my goddamn autobiography; I’m thinking for your own welfare and all.
The sanatorium was near my brother D.B, in Hollywood. He was making a lot of dough there, busy prostituting himself and all.
I had to promise my parents and the psychoanalyst that I would apply myself when I went back into school that September.
The school was filled with the same morons and goddam hotshots and phonies that were at the Elkton Hills and at Pencey.
When the school term came to an end I got to go to Africa with D.B. The picture he was writing for was being shot in South Africa, on account of it being the cheapest place for film productions.
D.B. rented a house by the beach in Port Elizabeth; he came with that English babe that was in one of the pictures he wrote.
The whole time we were there we were surrounded by those phony Hollywood bastards.
My parents weren’t thrilled about the whole idea, initially, so they had me sign up to some crumby counselling centre to attend sessions while I was there.
They let me go, because it was a good thing that I was learning about responsibility. Strictly for the birds.
I just couldn’t wait to get the hell out of there, to tell you truth. They’re nice people and all but I had to regain my sense of independence.

Port Elizabeth was a small town along the East coast of South Africa. The sessions were held an area called Central in the city.
I had to come speak to Nobomi, the founder of the Sliver of Hope support group, twice a week for an hour or so.
Where I want to start telling is that third week at the Sliver of Hope support group.
The room was filled with the regular loonies that attended those goddam counselling sessions, I felt sorry for them, I swear to God I did.
But there was this new girl there that day.
“I see we have a guest joining us” Nobomi said to the new girl. “So, we will begin with introductions, I will start.
My name is Nobomi; I started this group as a means for people who felt alone to know there are others who are in a similar position.
I was born here in Port Elizabeth; I left at a tender age for Cape Town. I got mixed up with the wrong crowd, the wrong scene.
Name it, I've done it but couldn't afford the t-shirt." she chuckled. It was a nervous chuckle, she fidgeted with the oversized t-shit which hung on her small frame.
“Don't feel any pressure to speak now, so, welcome! What's your name?”
She stood and shuffled her feet for like twenty minutes or so before stammering her name.
She had a blue dress that came to her knobby knees and red slip on shoes that matched her bag and alice band.
She had these crazy looking dreadlocks that came to her shoulders; they weren’t totally black, but with gold tinged tips.
"My name is Amanda, I'm trying to... deal,” she stammered, “with, um, a recent loss of a relative."
“We all have different ways of dealing with grief, and with support we will help you through it. All in good time.”
“If you can't get over it, get through it or under it!” quipped Ezra
She didn’t say much after that. Well, with morons like Ezra cracking jokes the whole time, no one had any chance to talk.
Ezra, who has a corny name like that anyways?

After the session Nobomi had laid out some drinks and MacDonald happy meals in the foyer.
You should have seen them scrambling out to force those happy meals down their throats. It depressed me, it really did.
I said bye to Nobomi, and that I’d see her again soon.
“Thanks for coming, Holden, I‘ll see you same time, tomorrow.” She said in this cheery voice, she always seemed in a good mood, for the two weeks or so that I’d been coming here.
The new girl in blue was alone in the hallway in front of the lift, compulsively punching in the button to summon it up to the Fourth floor.
I went up to her, “The lift won’t come any faster. The stairs are this way.” I pointed them out to her, she gave me this dirty look instead or I think it was a dirty look, maybe it’s just the way she was.
She shook her head.
Right then I started to get that feeling like I was disappearing, again, when she looked at me. It was like she looked straight through me like I wasn’t even there.
I sure wasn’t gonna ride in the same lift with her.
I ran down those stairs. Boy, I couldn’t get out of that place fast enough. I slipped on those crumby stairs while running down and damn near broke my crazy neck.
I wish I had. Broken my neck, that is. I swear I did.

I limped to the Donkin Park and found some bench infront of the pond. It reminded me of those ducks in Central Park.
They had no ducks here, but some pigeons and sea gulls that made a helluva noise, like a bunch of madmen.
I started getting that lonesome feeling again. I almost wished I was dead. That's when got this idea that I’d pack my suitcase and I’d go further East, in the Transkei, maybe.
That’s where it was natural and remote as hell. I would build myself a log cabin amongst those tall trees.
I’d find a river where I could go fishing all day, all by my damn self, and I would build myself a fire to cook the fish and for warmth.

I got hungry all of a sudden. When the girl from the centre, I just couldn’t remember her name, came and sat next to me on the bench.
I wanted to run a thousand miles in the opposite direction.
Her blue dress came just above her knees when she sat down; she had these lousy looking knees, so I looked into her face instead.
I felt like she saw through all my crap when she looked at me.
"Hi." she said. "I'm sorry about before, I was sort of distracted." She started to get up.
I got up, too, and offered to get us some snacks; we walked to the vendor at the entrance of the park.
I wondered how she’d ended up there at that crumby support group, so I asked her.
"It's a long story, actually."
"I don't mind, I got the whole day anyways. I'm not in a real rush to get to my brother's house, he'll be out shooting a film all day."
"My foster mother passed away in June. She gave me the adress for this support group, and this," she touched the chained locket on her neck.
"It has a picture of a baby and of a teenage girl. I can't seem to make the connection though."
"Are you from America?"
"Why?"
"Your accent."
"Yeah, New York."
"So what are you doing around here, are you on holiday? But you wouldn't be at the center if you were."
"My brother, DB, is here to shoot an African film. And I had to come too for my health. I had bronchitis, and the doctors said the climate would help." A lie.
She’d taken off her red shoes and put them in her bag and walked barefoot on the lush grass. She said it helped calm her and connect to nature.
"Do you miss home?"
"I sort of miss my family and all." I didn’t tell her much about it, naturally. I just didn't feel like going into my lousy childhood and all that David Copperfield kind of crap. But I missed Jane Gallagher the most. I missed how when we played checkers she would keep her kings in the back row. But she was married now.
We just sat there for the bulk of that afternoon, and just watched people go past and fed crumbs to these crazy sea gulls.
What was so terrific about it was that we could just sit and not say much and that was okay. People always have the need to fill up life with useless chatter.
For once, I felt still, almost peaceful sitting under that big, old Yellowwood tree.

"I have to go catch my bus now." she said as she stretched herself up.
"Which way you headed? The townships?"
"I'm staying at the University residence in Summerstrand."
"My brother's renting a house in the area as well."
We took the bus to the beach, and shot the bull for a while. She told me of her foster mother, and foster sisters who ran away from the home.
When we got there, she sprinted over the scorching sand and dipped her feet into the water.
“Take your shoes off, Holden, and come in.”
I did. But I regretted it; the water was as cold as hell. She kept kicking the water all over the place, wetting the edges of her dress.
You could tell she got a bang out of doing something as silly as that.
The sun dipped into the ocean and the city lights went on. We walked around until we found ourselves in the middle of a fun fair with all the rides and the crazy music playing.
It sort of reminded me of old Phoebe riding the Carousel around last Christmas.
We got on the Ferris wheel; you got this terrific view of the houses, and people at the bottom and starry sky above. They looked so small and insignificant, the houses, the people and the stars.
Each one with a purpose though, no matter how insignificant they seemed.
At that moment I felt like my lonesome life was part of the bigger picture. We sat in that big wheel, spinning around and felt like we were the only people on Earth.
We sat there in silence and spun around and around until we were dizzy with happiness.