I’ve started reading in Afrikaans for the first time since high school (when I was told by one teacher to drop down to Standard Grade, because my understanding of the language wasn’t up to scratch).
My dad read this in his 30’s, during an explosive period in South African history. The Apartheid government was hell-bent on maintaining a legal system of white supremacy. 1983 was a time, quite literally, full of strategic bombing of key targets by the resistance.
This Mongane Wally Serote poem – from which the book lends it’s title – feels particularly applicable these days, in the US. Black men are still being murdered by the police with no repercussions.