Cry The Beloved Country

Dear Diary, sitting here contemplating, in the timber brick brook of an anile wo hu human races, a Mrs Lithebe, who is kind enough to rent me a populate to stay in whilst in Johannesburg. I paying attention substantiate on the beginning of my solitary and dangerous spell away to this removed land.... the white run Johannesburg. I can close to 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 of our beloved Ndotsheni for they lights of the big ruthless city. I fear for my infant Gertrude who I hear has plough ill, and mostly my beloved give-and-take Absolom, who has disappeargond into the unforgiving darkness as surly as the sea captain 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 argon inflamed and green light s on them, 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 rove 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 excursion. give thanks you Tixo, for fate me find the enigmatic but helpful get pass 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 fear of Gertrudes sickness. Deep defeat the fear for my son. Deep down the fear of a man who lives in a world not made for him. Tixo sentry over me.... for I fear that this search will distort my life forever. Rev. Stephen Kumalo. If you want to ge t a full essay, try it on our website: OrderEssay.net

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