A Swazi boy and a Zulu girl.

Diverse

Zulus to the right, Swazis to the left

And all the rest in-between

The rituals of marriage

In a township and It dawns one me

The Indian guests are taking

A lot of photographs

They are touched by the singing

Amazed by the colorful attire

Respectful, out of depth

 no one tells them

About the culture

Nobody tells them the songs

Are stories being told

Passed on from

Generation to generation

The beads are telling their own story

Of cultures and clans and tribes

And the beautiful bride

Will proudly wear her's

To show her new status

The Makoti

The Zulu girl

Is now a Swazi wife

They did not partake

In the slaughter

Nor eat the intestines

Or drink the mkombomboti

Or witness the meeting

Between the elders

Of both families

They are not South African

They are here on contract

From their company in India

India steeped in history

Culture and diversity

And we amaze them

I fitted in because

I was given similar treatment

When I  married my African Queen

Given the same treatment

When I gave A Sotho Boy

My daughter as Makoti

I ate the meat reserved

For the Father of the bride

To  repay him

For the little girl

That sat on his lap

and pulled his beard

I was honored

And happily so

My Makoti was there

For her daughter in law

Her mother was not.

The Indians left early

Respectfully so and missed

The Zulu Dance troop

Giving a splendid

Performance, Vibrant and rhythmic

Conjuring up

A thousand African nights

Around the fires

Of villages nestled in the hills

I forgot about politics

About financial woes

About a weak Rand

They were many

The guests came

From near and far

The community were

Honoring a family

Respected in their midst

The groom mentioned

A small gathering

 it was not to be

This is Africa

We have big hearts

We celebrate and dance and sing

an elder brought

A massive bottle of the best whiskey

And shared it out

Left and right and in the middle

To Swatis and Zulus and Boere

And Indians from afar

The dance troops surprised us

With Scottish outfits

And they danced with wings

On their feet

And my heart danced along

And my spirit was lifted

And I knew

I am a Son of Africa

I am an African in my soul

We must tell them

The visitors

About our culture

About our rituals

And the meaning of the beads

With pride

We must tell them.