Jou ma se kinders - Eish, I miss daai lippies vannie Kaap - Sunday World (South Africa) 27 February 2011
Bitches Brew Column: Nomakula Roberts
Being from Cape Town, I miss say I miss Cape coloured women.
When I was young, I used to love playing with their silky hair and wished I could get rid of my kinky course variety.
"What’s wrong with you?" asked my friend while applying skin lightener.
"Black is beautiful, why would you wanna be any other race?"
I ignore her and her weave and go back to my dreams of being yellow and speaking like I’m singing.
Coloured girls are the future for various reasons:
They will never leave dark foundation on your shirt after a hug;
You will never run out of cigarettes;
You will always be assured of a large family as many of these girls breed as if Allan Boesak sent them on a mission to increase the coloured race;
They don’t have to fork out thousands on their hair as they mostly have silky hair that doesn’t need relaxers or weaves;
They always know where to get hair curlers and wear them with pride, even in shopping malls;
You don’t have to listen to those clicks most African languages have;
They are the closest thing to being a white woman and we know you black men love them as they look like they’ve popped out of an Usher music video;
Their bruises are more obvious than ours, so if you hit her it will be easier to see;
They don’t have to send their sons to initiation school, where they stand a chance of getting a horrendous infection and even dying.
My friend disagrees with me about coloured women.
She insists that black guys don’t date crazy people.
"What?" she says. "Coloureds are nuts because:
They drink Black Label beer and smoke like chimnys;
They shout and throw plates;
They have no front teeth and eat fish like they are trying to deplete the ocean;
They love to fight in public and most are very violent;
They’re always referring to your mother’s this or that;
They know exactly what Tik is;
They love designer clothes;
They love making love, and leave even the randiest negro exhausted;
They walk around in their gowns and pyjamas during the day.
What is wrong with my friend? I wonder.
So what if folk walk around in their gowns and pyjamas during the day, especially since they will eventually go back to bed?
Why waste washing powder?
Shouting is also sometimes necessary, especially when you speak to folk like Jimmy Manyi, who might not have a clue what he is talking about.
Designer labels are mostly made in the Cape, so why should they not love them?
Referring to one’s mother should also not be an issue, unless a monkey gave birth to you.
Besides, reminding you of your mother shouldn’t be a bad idea. Call her now.
What the hell is wrong with loving sex? Should they hate it?
Just because my friend is a lousy lay doesn’t mean the entire coloured nation should not like protected sex.
Knowing what tik is doesn’t necessarily mean one is using it, I told my daft friend.
Saying they are violent is also a generalisation.
I know plenty of coloured fraudsters and coloured Hari Krishnas.
Of course I miss coloured people. Which other race do you know that is more obsessed with naai masjiene. Oh, and I don’t mean sewing machines.
Besides, only in the Cape would you hear somebody screaming out: Jou ma owe jou hond sex geld!"
(keeping a copy before it gets deleted)
