It was one week ago when I came to see Dad
In a KZN hospital, when things turned bad-
With looting, with hooting, with fires and shooting:
A country in turmoil in need of “rebooting.”

And there I was- stuck-with my birth-town all closed;
Its buildings on fire, its people exposed.
A demonically devastating demonstration,
Oh where were our angels in this situation?

Soon I realized  the demons were not in the looters
And not in the fires and not in the shooters;
The demons were demons of deep desperation,
Satanic inequality, prolonged segregation.

Of brain washing, blackmailing, false information;
Of unfulfilled promises, endless frustration.
Of hunger, of greed for political gain;
The demons were tin shacks which melt in the rain.

The demons were viruses with crown-like power,
Which threw fuel to the fire in our darkest hour.

I looked for some light, for a message of hope,
And in came the angels to calm and to cope-
They came in all colours, all shapes  and all sizes,
From the nation of rainbows, that constantly rises.

I saw, whilst the demons were wild-eyed and yelping,
The angels were giving and sharing and helping.
They flew in as cargo planes bringing us stock,
They took shifts with their golf clubs protecting their flock;
With black bags and brushes and brooms they would meet
To help gutted shopkeepers back on their feet.

The angels were nurses working double shifts,
Policeman and army-crew mending the rifts.
They came as resilience and staunch stamina;
They came as the citizens of South Africa.

And though I felt anxious and frightened and sad,
I knew that the angels would conquer the bad.
Feeling  proudly South African, I hummed to the song:
“I get knocked down, but I get up again,” as life moved along.