Presentation of "The Twelve"

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Cry, the Beloved Country

 

 

 

Stephen Kumalo

 

Mr. Kumalo played the center of the book but yet he became the story. He went into  Johannnesburg with desire and hope to find his son,Absalom. Johannesburg was a place that was referred as a "dark  hole", which is where people left their home and never came back. But the ambitious priest and well rooted religious man got sucked into the hard not life of Johannesburg. He had became one of the lost souls that had once had dreams and new and big changes but was yet to be betrayed of the horrible life style it had became. He had face his fear of losing his faith in his religion after all the deaths, betrayal, and dishonesty. Kumalo was down at his breaking point of himself and his family and religion.

 

Kumalo who is not perfect bet yet does not live in a world of perfection he is faced upon a fear which is so great he is losing himself and is now facing that world of imperfection. He is clear of the difference between wrong and right. By village standards, Kumalo and his wife are middle class, living in a house with several rooms. They struggle, however, to save money for their son’s education. Kumalo is not perfect, and he occasionally explodes in anger and tells lies. Praying and repenting helps him from the temptation of wrong and his untruthful ways. He is filled with fear by the life style of the city, against his standardized background. But the search of his son, Absalom still lives with in him.

 

He is weak of old age but is beyond tired by grief. Kumalo is at a point of time where his children should be caring for him and carrying on his teachings as holy man. The battle with time and strength is put into his search which grows on him physically and mentally, drags him into a tiresome body. Kumalo seek help of a friend, along the way, he encourages him and pushes his hope in the mist of the city of Johannesburg. Kumalo is trapped in between a destroyed county and his faith of God. He has unreasoned him self and is faced with lost hope and untouchable dreams of getting his family back united.

 

As many stories has been told, Johannesburg is not the place to live a good life, the priest has became one of the stories. Kumalo may not have been lost in Joannesburg physically but he has lost him self and the teaching of his tradition and what he believes in.Which was thought to carry him through any thing of destruction. His loyalty and faith is challenged.

Grown for one night

 

                “Was that the last of it?”

“ yes ! that’s it.”

 I was then getting into my best friend truck leaving away from what I call “ the life”, I had slammed the door to the yellow school bus. The others and I always made fun of her yellow jeep. She cranked the car up, and on the road we went I lay back and turned the radio on k97.1 and I blast the little of her speakers she had. The song “ Bands A Make Her Dance” had came on which reminded me of the very first night we made it to UCA.

                My friends and I had been planning to go on this trip to UCA which was a college in Conway. UCA was throwing a party Friday and that Saturday of that weekend for their homecoming, we were aching to attend. All of us had a plan to tell, that plan was going to get us that weekend to go to a college party and the homecoming. Even though we look and act of every bit of seventeen, we were determined to see what the college life was all about. We all told our parents we was only going for the football game which wasn’t the truth at all, we were itching for the parties. Being on edge of a lie it had succeeded!

My mother had taken me shopping and I made sure every outfit was its best. That night before the trip, I had pack all my makeup and extra things that would make me look like college attire. I didn’t

want to look not even close to a high school student. I packed everything carefully and made sure I had item in its place.

Before we left I could feel my stomach touching the pricks of my spinal cord it was all from the excitement. Johnita had flagged Desany down letting her know we was getting something to eat, and then the argument and confusion began. Desany want for us at the gas station and commanded 5 minutes and she was leaving but we didn’t care and knew she wasn’t going to leave. My crispy chicken nuggets had arrived in 10 minutes after she had told us to me meet up at the gas station. Johnita then drove off and headed for the E way, passing Desany, who was still sitting at Bp gas station. At that point, passing her er noticed she didn’t move. Johnita calls 

  “Desany!  why are you still sitting there?”

“well, I didn’t know ya’ll left yet and ya’ll must know ya’ll way?”

“yeah , we got GPS just like you do can you just drive ahead of us?”

 “No ya’ll good, since ya’ll know ya’ll way!”

So after that, conversation began amongst the four of us and we was annoyed by Desany snotty attitude. We went on almost half of the ride talking about how bratty she is, and how stupid the situation was. Then as time pass the truck filled with silence and blasting music. You could see the facial expressions from everyone imagination , and how everybody zoned out and waited patiently to arrive.

                All of us friends but three couldn’t come , their parents felt going to a college campus for anything was a bit too much for high school girls. I heard everyone’s parent opinion about “growing up to fast” lecture accept for my own and that’s the only opinion that mattered. Only thing came to my mind was “YOLO” which means you only live once, after each lecture. I was more focused on one thing and that was being a teenager and having fun. I think that’s what adults forget to live and have fun and

stop making life a burden so much. I guess somebody else felt the same way I did, Vina, she was determine go and she wasn’t taking no for an answer. Sometimes I swear that girl can be friends with the devil. Her mother was going to be out of town that weekend and she was going to be far away in Los Vegas. Her mother had made it clear to her that she wasn’t going because she was going to be far away and not in reach. Which, I could understand but Vina didn’t.

                My song was playing and I was imaging myself dancing at the party and I was sucked in my imagination. Then another call interrupted the ride and it was the bat from hell, Vina.

“what’s up vee?”

“hey! can you come get me in the morning and I’ll give you some gas money?”

“Yeah, that’s cool just be up and ready around 7:00”

“Ok cool bye girl”

“yeah”

I started laughing because that girl was determined to come to Conway but in a way I couldn’t blame her. I couldn’t believe that Johnita was actually going to get up and drive another two hours going to get her.

                That night we had made it to Conway and at to the party we went. I felt like my insides was a busy city and everything had crashed. I could have never been more nervous in my life. It was time to walk in and enter the party, and jealous girls darted their envious eyes, wondering where we was from. While the dudes on the other hand watched with lust as we walk passed. I played like I didn’t notice a thing but really I scanned every person in a second of time.  Other than the attention we cause, the party was live and full of young individuals that didn’t have rules applied to them. I stood there searching around the room for a place for me to fit in. Then my song played and I had the time of my life and I didn’t care who watched or who laughed at my dancing. All night long we danced and danced on other people. . All night long we danced and danced on other people. The Dj announced that the party was over and I was happy my feet ached from pain. I realized it had been 2:00 in the morning which explain the excessive yawning. At the moment all I could think of was resting.

 

 

I laid back and was happy to be apart from the wild weekend and I was just ready to cuddle with my sheets. I realized how much I miss my mother orders and having someone tell me what to do and what not to do. I guess college was a bit too much for me at seventeen, and I was ok with waiting my turn.

               

The illiterate.

Reading was a difficult accomplishment for me growing up. I was never that child that was read to night after night. Actually I hated reading I avoided every dealings with reading. I  was the true definition of illiterate in my childhood.
 One year my mom moved to Marion, which meant moving to a new school for me I was very excited. Not knowing that being a non-reader and a rebellion to all rules was over and in with orders and discipline. Then the day came and that day was going to the library which was filled with never ending books. I  was beginning to think I was becoming sea sick from all the cramped books and tons of pages it held. reading was just one big allusion of words, sentences, and pages.
 Reading was never a flowing blooding stream for my family or me. I never had those bedtime stories read to me, it was always lights out and on to the next day. my mother made sure I did every problem and every question to my home work but a book was never included.
 I later on started going to the beauty salon and then I opened up that chapter of my life of reading. I scanned the shelves of my book worm beautician, I had no clue that she would be so interested in so many books. It was about thirty to forty minutes under the dryer  I realized I wanted to try one, not really giving them my main focus. My fingers and eyes ran across the books as if I was at my piano lesson. I glided through each and every book until I saw the breathe taking title "The lies A black man lives". Even  though it was for adults I wanted to read this book even if it meant trouble. I snuck the book home and read for hours about middle aged women and their spouses lies. It had stolen all of my time and even though reading wasn't my forte I'd felt like my whole life was about reading. Words I never Even thought existed I comprehended so well no word was a challenge towards my knowledge. When that book came to a end I felt a desire to read more and more and that's just what I did. I moved this appetite for reading to school and on to actually reading magazines. I didn't really pay attention to pictures and bold dark printed words and their font but instead I read collections of everything.
 So there you have it the ugly truth behind reading, I found my inner self through myself for the love of reading. I never thought the day would come, the phrase "who needs reading" was a true statement in my head but it had all changed and reading things became that image I saw to everything.

Un-human like but beyound beautiful!

      I was more interested in the passage The Handsomest Drowned Man In the World, because of the big insite it open on explaining magical realism. It was oozing of amazing details and full of imagery of having a day dreaming moment of being there. Reading the passage I definitly had a full connection of the MAGICAL REALISM WORLD! The Handsomest Drowned Man In the World tells about a man who is not clearly not human being but handsome and is so great in size he has unbelievable authority.
       
       Definetly the whole put toghter of a man being so large and handsome but yet dead, could not have screamed interesting enough. The story really has the mixture of both worlds, reality and magic. I like the fact of a human like man being washed up from sea and so large of a human he was been compared to a over sized whale. He was still the handsomest man eyes could lay on, then over all his enormous appereance and good looks he was covered in scales! It left me wondering what type of people were they if they found a gigantic human covered in sea coverings and scales could be so handsome.
   
       Over all this was a well put together of magical realism. All of the details and imagery painted a well define picture of the "second world", I like to call it. I don't know about you, but I'm human and for a second I almost thought the enormous scally like man was handsome too.