A WORD ON death

September 2021

Soaking up the last delicious moments of Summer. I feel the jubilation of Children Black Children bounding through the park.

I quickly snap back to the reality that Michael K Black was found deceased in his home. The specifics of how aren’t as important as what his death and that of Black Men Symbolizes. For me, it symbolizes the lack of care the collective has for Bodies—Black Bodies like mine.

I recall my own instances of collective disregard for my Body, and I wonder, What comes next? What can come from an utter lack of disregard? I think about death, namely Black death and how it abounds and the ease of apathy at which Black death is callously consumed.

 I grow weary by how blasé we’ve grown, citing numbers of Covid deaths as though they weren’t cherished mothers, fathers, lovers, and friends.

 I am summoned back into momentary joy as the children run by again. I embody this joy, for I know that joy is fleeting and death abounds.

I offer you beloved the grace to straddle the line of feeling the good things and feeling them so deeply it makes your heart hurt. Knowing that death awaits. 

 With Love, Sinikiwe