Impact after shock: "From where to where we were from"

I have been reading a course in Social Accounting Matrices (SAM), which is the measure of impacts arising from shocks in the economy. I thought about shocks of my own 'life' and what impacts have they had on me; don't know whether I can measure these shocks? I contemplated using success as a measure. My head echoed as this contemplation led to thousands of ideas seemingly rushing through my head, but one stuck in a form of a question though; can one be better than was he or she is? One thing about questions is that as much as they are  roots for answers they give rise to other questions. Which led me to this question, who are you?

 Apartheid gave birth to homelands, I was born and bred in the Former Transkie homeland. My grandparents always told me the story of how Mathanzima chased away 'white' people leading to an influx  of the AmaMpondo, AmaXesibe and other Xhosa tribes of the west. They came to work at the police stations, hospitals, courts of the former homeland's town. I believe that is how my father ended up in uMzimkhulu and met my mother. 

I was born in the year of 1989 when the Apartheid regime was perishing in the mist of domestic and international pressure. Doors were going to open, we were going to be the first to reap the fruits of our forefathers' struggle, that meant attending schools of which our parents couldn't attend. I was three years old when I attended a pre-school in eMbhizweni which was a hospital for the mentally ill, not that I was mentally ill. Although seemingly we behave like we are, Mrs Maharaj was the wife of the doctor there and formed a pre-school. My mother heard about this pre-school I presume during the much growing ideology of umntanam maka funde isilungu. I must tell you now, it was torturous and full of solitude, luckily it was me and my dear friend uSolihle. Waking up at 4:30 am at that age everyday, taking two forms of transports coming back most times at six made me trad school, teachers, and this 'English'.

The schools which were previously whites', coloureds' and indians' were open for everyone, and we were one of the first inflow of 'hope'. I started my primary before time, because my mother heard of this great Indian school that Mrs Maharaj successfully sold, was she wrong? Your eyes must continue to play the gazing game with the screen, the success-measure will provide the answer(question). 

Mathanzima's decision (first shock) gave rise to my two halves which complete me meeting, the 'isilungu' dialogue (second shock) led to me attending Mrs Maharaj's pre-school, the liberation of the Republic (third shock) led to me attending the Ixopo State Aided Primary School (formerly known as Ixopo Indian Primary School). One thing about the SAM is that one shock may lead to a lots of impacts, but these impacts have subsequent shocks due to one initial shock. Whatever shocks that occurred later in my 'human-lifestyle' were not as influential as these shocks.

Were these shocks justified? What impact did they have on me? Did I become better than I am? I Am I successful? What is success? 

My parents rightfully saw that I needed to be fully equipped in order to fit within the system that continuously enslaves those who were not fortunate enough to be geared for a 'better 'life''. I hated (still do) school and what it represented, I felt it created a deep wedge between me and my miniature 'identity-roots'. I grew in frustration because my peers didn't (still don't) challenge themselves, they were so submissive believing everything in black and white was right. We lost our ways in the classrooms instead we came home to challenged them with proofs that we heard from school forgetting they were of a different system. I vowed not to change, but to continue to stand for my culture and not be 'con-formative'. 

If I thought it made me better I would be indulging in the idea of civilization and enlightenment of savages, all it did was to equipped me. I am in the process of succeeding if I stay intact, success is being mindful and always thought provoked not materially fulfilled. Although debatable, I am tempted to say no one can be better than what he or she is because 'life's' alterations can impact or equip you, it's only the YOU that adapts giving the illusion at face value of its change or improvement. 

"Lord make me always a men who asks questions" (Fanon, Black skins white masks).

The hairy devil advocate of a friend once asked a question that will all prove us clueless. He asked, "Why do you think we were born?" As often as I do I tried by all means to answer this, but to no success. I am not afraid to say this although the answer seems to be on the tip of my tongue, I do not know! 

As someone who believes he is on a quest of finding truth in this world, I never stopped wondering, it has gnawed my mind for a while. So, I made a decision I can start answering this by imaging the invisible to mankind, which we as humans so much indulge in...

"They say if you really really try hard you can remember your childhood if you try even harder you can remember being in your mother's womb and if you try extra hard you can remember even before that and you remember God" (Zubs, Drunken Angels don't cry). These lyrics and many more couldn't tame my curiosity.

My fear of God wouldn't let my mind go that far so I can settle for my mother's womb. It all begin in two distant worlds only connected by time-Kwa-Bomvana and Kwa-Bhaca noNtlangwini. Motion brought by by history and coincidence ("web of fate", Muthwa) gave in and personal connection was possible. Feelings were trusting and human fluid kinetic evolved, human bodily changes were visible. The absorption of Methodist church norms by Kwa-Bhaca led to the establishment of relations by these worlds. 

 Through these sets of events lay a being, fully aware of himself and the world trusting his mother's womb shared her movements and habits. A second led to a minute, a minute led to an hour, hours gave way to the sunset, the sunset continuously with no unique significance until the insignificance broke human ambitions as the 'year' (Romantic interpretation) grew to an end. The bodily changes became very much visible everything grew, the being inside the womb need movement and growth. 

The world was shut away from the being, but him and his mother were witnesses of it all. Days of summer grew to an end, this meant the mother would expect the great phenomena, not knowing when she was  witness such was forced to be with the vicinity of eMhlangeni (Riet Vlei Hospital).  The soundless pains were louder than the unbearable screams, breathing came with more pain. It two days in  the month of harvest at about 6 prime time the being came in direct connection with the world. He trusted her with the womb, stayed until it was humanly possible. The being became uQaqambile, Cwangcisa, Lungisa, Jabulani wakwa Mathentamo. 

I thought hard and imagined inside her womb, the answer lied within the two worlds, web of fate, the connection, the meaning behind names. I may not  know why I was born yet; but my history providing my identity and names giving the idea of my ambition and of many keeps me in search of the crux of ones birth.