My terrorists do not drop bombs ~ Zaynab Asmal

My terrorists do not drop bombs
They are the rapist residing in every strange man’s face
The glances tossed my way as I walk down the street
The idea I guard against when I lock my doors tight
And pray that it’s not me that’s attacked tonight.

My terrorists have no convenient names
Like ISIS or Bin Laden.
They carry ugly hereditary titles:
Poverty, abuse, social decay
And every title is but one branch
On a Lernaean family tree desperate to be pruned.

My terrorists have no real race or identity
No matter what technicolor my TV feeds me
Or what nationalities are spat at
By friends, families, strangers
Who feel safe to speak only in their homes.

America’s terrorists are not my own
Switch off the internal media feed
You’re already surrounded by enemies
And it begins with an ambush inside your head.

(the symptom is not the problem
recognise the crisis
treat the disease)


© Zaynab Asmal


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Matriculant 2013
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Our Prayer ~ Naadir Vorajee

Let me know the Knowledge of Your world
Let me fly with wings
Show me my own destiny untwirled
Forgive my wrongful things...

Make me see the beauty in each day
make not my wings to fall
Give the beauty of life in this way
let my faith be tall.

Show me miracles in each grain of sand
Help me to be wise
Give me the privilege of Your hand
let security be Your eyes...

Let the strength of Your love fall upon us
Let it light our darkest ways
Let us take Your challenges without a fuss
until the end of days

Let this be our prayer for life,
Help us read your text
Show us the way in this material life
so that we may live in the next...



©  Naadir Vorajee 

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Matriculant 2013
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Objectives ~ Pryaska Goorhoo

Objectives through the eyes of a human.

photo credit: Pacific Sunrise via photopin (license)

The day has come.
The sun seeps up from behind the dark curtain of the sky.
The deep realisation of despair.
Your future…one chance…to do everything now.
The viscosity of your feelings overflow with extreme steadiness.
You manifest the challenge which lies before you.
You are like a spontaneous combustion - fuelled, fired and futuristic.
You succeed!
The overpowering feeling of triumph washes over you
Like a tidal wave burying the coasts of a continent.

Once all that has been said,
And once all that has been done,
There starts to play a melancholy melody in your conscious mind
To emphasize the displacement of the purpose of the day, but
With assurance of the next dawn, it obviously will bring with it
a new challenge and desire,
Just like the tides will bring in the wreckages of the tsunami.



©  Pryaska Goorhoo

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Grade 10
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A Poem About ... ~ Nishka Ramkhelawan

This is a not a love poem
Nor is it about death
This poem is about all the little things
People tend to forget

Like the warmth of sunlight
Or the chirping of birds
And buzzing of bees
But rather we ignore these things
And only choose to fight

This poem is not about a lover
Or someone that I hate

This poem is not about heartbreak
Nor is it about regret

This poem has no subject
Nor does it have a story to tell

It is simply just a poem


Copyright Nishka Ramkhelawan

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GRADE 11
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Meleza Jali ~ The Power of No Words

I believe in Silence
For it speaks when
Words can not

Silence is the inner voice
The one we seek out for
When no one else is around

“Listen, Listen!” it shouts

Silence can heal
The wounds of loose words
No words, no sounds

Silence is the gateway
To a person’s soul
Rare and pure
Nothing more, nothing less

Where there is silence, there is peace
Where there is peace, there is love

The Power of No words

© Meleza Jali


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GRADE 9
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