daughter of the district

She saw the iron dragons come.

Plunder and rape the sweat of founding fathers;

Where once she skipped on toffee apple smiles;

They trod, they broke, fire face reptiles;

Her people’s blood, wildly scattered on foundations of love;

She cried, she screamed, for all she dreamed would change that day the iron dragons came.


Written in honour of my grandparents and all of my people who were residents of the District as children and were part of the generation who were displaced due to the group areas act.

Our place has gone, but our people remain.


(images by District Six Museum and UCT District Six archives)




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