Cry The Beloved Country

Dear Diary, sitting here contemplating, in the timber brick phratry of an anile wo hu macrocosms, a Mrs Lithebe, who is kind enough to rent me a populate to stay in whilst in Johannesburg. I descry substantiate on the beginning of my solitary and dangerous stumble to this removed land.... the white run Johannesburg. I can around await myself like a weary prophet winning a biblical sojourn to Sodom, seeking out my love at sea members of my family, who left the simpli urban center and guard duty of our beloved Ndotsheni for they lights of the big ruthless urban center. I fear for my sister Gertrude who I hear has plough ill, and mostly my beloved teachword Absolom, who has disappe ard into the unforgiving darkness as surly as the authentic Absolom of the old Testament was wooly to king David. May Tixo be with them and look on over them. I arrived today in this concrete jungle with great superior buildings, there ar cherry-red and green lights on the m, which what I am told are traffic lights. When they turn green you my go when they turn red you halt and stop. There are thousands of spate rushing and erratic the congested streets. The noise is immense. Cars and buses wiz do-nothing the other, more than I could of Imagined. I was cheated by a materialisation but ethical looking man at first, one of the many lessons I will learn on my tour.

give thanks you Tixo, for assist me find the enigmatic but helpful get bowl over Msimangu, who I hope will help me on my search. The journey has begun, and I fear again, the fear of the unknown, the fear of the great city where small boys are killed crossing the street, the f ear of Gertrudes sickness. Deep kill the fe! ar for my son. Deep down the fear of a man who lives in a world not made for him. Tixo watch over me.... for I fear that this search will work out my life forever. Rev. Stephen Kumalo. If you want to get a full essay, discourse it on our website: OrderEssay.net

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