$Local Network Broadcast Publishing™ ($LNBP™)

Jabulani was nervous. It was the night before what could possibly be the beginning to his career as a journalist. All he had to to was pitch his idea, he thought as he skimmed through previous publications of the tabloid he was about to approach. His article was already written. All he had to do was pitch it, and deliver the product on the spot. Nerves, he knew, were necessary. Without nerves, confidence would probably overflow right into arrogance - and nobody needed another arrogant journalist. His story was sound, he thought, and it was right up the publication's alley. Weeks earlier, while hibernating at home, he caught wind of news that one of the local teachers at a nearby school was employing archaic modes of discipline, often extreme and unnecessary, as well as 'cooking' year-end marks based on bias. Naturally, his curiosity piqued, he followed up on the allegations and did some investigating. To his amazement, he found that the teacher in question had just star

Let it happen. All of it. When we begin trying to take charge, shit spirals out of control. So sit back and let it happen. Blimey, enjoy it. It's your life. It's your story. Sit back, light a blunt (soon to be legalized) and mellow out to a free showing of "what life has in store for you today, human!" Oh, it's happening right now. Don't be daft, the story doesn't stop simply because you're unaware of it being a story. You know that feeling you ge t when you're high and the world looks all fuzzy - like something out of a trippy movie? That's the real world right there. This - the matrix - it's all coming undone. Nay, don't see doom nor gloom. Be happy. Are you broke today? Be happy regardless. Since when does money buy anything that's worth it. Go outside. Say hi to a stranger. Make a friend. See how your life changes from that moment onwards. Embrace the insanity that comes with waking up, stay awake long enough to see the

When words don't come, when silence does no good. When regardless of all life's wonder, you remain in a shitty mood. When your hopes and dreams seem far When you don't feel like a star Smile. It's when it counts the most. So when that day comes, when all hope seems lost. Look skyward, never down; stand your guard, don't desert your post, soldier. Life is for the cunning, the witty and the bold. The rest are left outside, alone and cold.

By Kyle Collis and Lebogang Tlou Thomas Kyle sat behind his desk in his study, a pencil tucked behind his ear, defeated. There lay a stack of unopened letters before him. Bills. Bills. Bills. And a pamphlet. It was a curious object. It had very thin, fine writing, and a catchy title. The Illusion of Money . Thomas sat back and read the first paragraph. ‘ We live in a world where value is attached to money, but in reality it has none. Resources are controlled by the minority, who created a system to oppress the majority. This system is designed to enslave the masses through debt, inflation, but above anything deceit. The media promotes a consumer based culture, where money is used as bait to control our perception of the world. We work to pay for our survival, because everything comes with a price, but what are we actually working for? ’ He leaned back in his seat, a strange, roaring fire suddenly burning white hot in his chest. It puffed up. He exhaled. A match is struc

In love, there is. This is the secret. To love is to be, and to be is to love. So be with love, said the snowman. The carrot just stood there. The oreo went twist, lick, dunk, and the whole wide western world stayed drunk. In the east, in the night, they found delight. In time, there is only the present. In the present, there is only love. And love is boring most times. And that's the best part. In boring times, you're challenged to get creative and find the very best that will come out of whatever it is you're bored with doing in the loving present. So be present. The words to describe how he made her feel were fickle, mumbled blubbering by a madman. There was never the right thing to say. Chris sat beside Crystal as she lay sleeping, wondering where her spirit roamed. His own soon wanders too; deep into his own cavernous pools of universal knowledge, through the fabrics of space and time, to a memory distant yet always within thought's reach. There had been anoth

It’s warm. It’s neither day nor night here where we are. Our heart beats strong sometimes. It’s not always so. Sometimes we feel distracted by the mendacities of everyday life. All these moving figures, wowed by simple smoke and mirror illusions cast by lower level spell-casters. They can sometimes be wowing. There is something fascinating about watching humans. They’re all so preoccupied with pettiness. Politics. All of it is politics. Politics of gender. Politics of money. Politics of Politics. All their policies and ambiguous contractual obligations. Then it all goes south, and in comes politics’ baby sister socio-economic equality. Then it all goes crazy. Feminist. Racist. Chauvinist. Ethnocentric. Violence. Policing. Armies. Cages. Rather inspiring escape stories of brave young people who dared to defy the authorities; who stood firm and would not be moved. Those who fought for peace. They were jailed. They were beaten. They were killed. Never has the echo of their voices been s

Hey,  Malaika Mahlatsi This is long. I'm writing this part having just finished writing the bulk of this letter. Allow me to thank you for your time in advance. Have a cup of tea and get comfortable. Namaste I have a message to share. But for it to be heard I first have to get a piece of paper to say that what I'm sharing is the truth. It's the truth that at this very moment those who aren't still reading are being conditioned by the system right now. We'll try reach out to them again later on. It's a promise. We're being conditioned. Even at this moment as your eyes are reading this here word, conditioning is taking place. That's reality. You can keep reading, or you can scroll on by. I'm simply sharing my thoughts. Full transparency, this may be a lengthy post. Or it may not be any longer than what it already is. If you're still reading, I just read a rather beautifully written email telling of all the really cool things that come w

I see him. My heart stops. I curse, resenting myself for allowing him so much power over me. It’s so much easier to avoid him when he is not standing with the exact person whom I’m meeting with. I cannot say I’m not prepared for this final showdown between Teboho and myself. It will go one of two ways, and the only one that matters is the exact same one I had in mind. It’s the one that happened. Our circles were merging and it was beyond me to try and stop it. Our feud, if I may call it that, is a trivial affair. There was a girl, the girl was with him. I thought I she deserved better, I truly did. He could never sing to her heart as I wished to. He could never hold her the way I did. He could never spark the fire in her heart that my own heart felt it mastered. I was arrogant. I saw want, where there was only love. It wasn’t my love to have, but I wanted it. It is in the past, and so is any hostility I held him accountable for. His back was turned to me. “And here’s the man I

‘I don’t think it’s all that deep at all,’ I said, preoccupying myself with my shoelace as I spoke. ‘Too many people avoid speaking about the shit that really matters. It’s either too deep, or too philosophical or they’re in a hurry to some or other place. I'm not a philosopher. I'm just saying ... When did human beings become cyborg androids, you know?’ I looked up. She was looking directly at me. Our eyes met. The room seemed quiet, even though there were five of us in there. ‘That’s beautiful,’ she said. I frowned. I noticed her eyes wander at the same time as I became aware that my smile had turned upside down. Even though I was dismayed at how she too had fallen for the magical pull of my words, I could not help but marvel at the predictability of the entire exchange. I smiled again. Our eyes locked once again. She smiled. I continued speaking. ‘Thank you, actually. That’s a very nice thing to say. But you see, I don’t want you to say it’s “beautiful”. It’s r

There was work to be done. There are responsibilities to be met. This is growing up. In that moment, on the other hand, I wished to be far away from my laptop. I wished to lay there beside her and hold her as she slept. I wished to wrap my arms around her. Simply that. But there was work to be done. Heteronormativity. Male Help-Seeking. Boring. I listened as she breathed. In. Out. Slowly. Each exhale, verging on a snore, sent shivers down my spine. I closed my eyes and retreated to the memory of a time when I believed she and I could make it. We still can. But I'm not what she's looking for. "I'm waiting for Prince Charming," she said. My heart sank low, a feeling I was used to in her presence. Could she not see me? Could she not hear my heart pleading with her to love me? A part of me believes she does. A part of me chooses to believe that she wants to catch my tears when they fall. A part of me never stopped believing that she loves me. But Rome wasn

'I wish to tell you a story unlike any you have ever truly heard. It's an old story, so you may know of it. 'In another time, there was a place where a great flame burned eternal. At this place there lived a man who, every morning, would take a single step forward and rest. He was searching for something. He wasn't really going anywhere. His only wish was to never remain in the same place for longer than what he needed to be. He knew that that which he was searching for was searching for him. 'At another place, not too far from the first, there was a patch of land which grew the world's most beautiful fruits. They tickled the eye and blew the taste buds of any who picked and ate from them. At this place there lived a woman. She had hair as course as the ground itself, and it was beautiful. She had a smile which seared itself into the hearts of any who beheld it. When she spoke it was with the voice of a little girl; mischievous, loving, innocent. She went w

It would be a lie to say that I wasn’t afraid. It was almost like something out of a movie. One minute we were walking. The next minute, I saw a knife. The next, I had it in my own hands. A choice had to be made. I was victorious. I could take my vengeance. I could drive it through the heart of my would-be assailant. A miracle. I was okay. I had the weapon in my hand. It was at that moment that I realized that the most powerful weapon I had was my own mind. Knives are for cutting: apples, bread. There is a saying: guns don’t kill people. People do. People make weapons what they are. People create the associations. I, myself, am a person. I had a choice to make in that instance, in that dream-like instance where my very life flashed before my eyes. I saw, for the very first time ever, only light. Only love. I put the knife in my pocket and continued walking with my brothers. Nothing had happened. My brother had not taken my life, for which his own was spared. I walked on and I sp

It wasn't immediate. It took some time before I realized that I was on a bus. My soul felt cheated. All the anticipation. The sleepless nights. Packing. The simplest thing on earth to do. When you're twenty-two -- with back home with the mom, grandma and little baby niece being your only guaranteed shelter and three meals one-stop pitstop for the mid-year holiday -- it's not rocket science to pack a suitcase. It's common knowledge. Fill it with laundry, and brace yourself. I'm braced. I'm going to get home. My grandmother Anna -- a true woman of the earth, bless her -- is going to throw a fit as usual. It happens every year. I don't mind it. I wouldn't be half the person I am today were it not for 'Banana', as my cousin Freddy and I call her. She has taught me a lot about love. My grandfather Charles was a violent man. I have two memories from my childhood. The first being the day when I saw Banana backing away. I was standing in the bathroom.

Once there was a girl who sat on a bench. It was a full moon. The night was still but for the drone of voices filling the small cracks in between the silence. Lost in thought, and wandering through cold and barren streets, my path crossed her’s. She opened a box of cigarettes and she pulled one out as I neared. “Hi.” said I with a smile. “Hello,” she said with a bright beam. “May I borrow your lighter?” I asked. “Yes, you may indeed!” said she. She foraged in her handbag for a second and pulled out a green lighter. There was nothing special about the lighter. It was green. It was a lighter. I reached out for it and she gently placed it in my hand. I felt her hand. It was soft. I looked up from behind the cigarette projecting out from under my nose and I saw for the first time how truly beautiful she was. “Thank you,” I said. “Are you studying tonight,” she asked. I imagine that’s what she had asked. I cannot recall. I was trapped by her smile. It was an average smile. I h