The forgotten

As we grow older we all forget things, we tend to have this tendency to remember things that we interact with on a more regular basis. It’s a new year and some of us have resolutions to see through.

I know what you are thinking, “this guy is going to tell us what to do in the New Year, dam Alpheus  you are such a tired cliché”. If you are thinking that well let me enlightened on a little knowledge.

In the New Year we should remember the forgotten, or at least we should try to remember the forgotten for a day… or seven… every day.

Bear with me here. Try to think back and remember what is important and you might find that some, if not all that you have forgotten is the essence of your being, or the beginning of your being.

I’ll talk about myself to put things in perspective. When I was born (like most of us) I was born into the language of IsiZulu, this was the language my mother whispered into my ears every night and every morning when I was a little baby, she did this until I could understand the words and I could speak the words. She gave me meaning through a language and she gave me a name through this beautiful language. I say IsiZulu is beautiful because my mother was beautiful, she taught me the language and the language became beautiful because of my mother.

Before my mother’s beauty interferes with you trail of thought, let’s get back to want we are talking about.

As I grew up, I was unaware that I was slowly but surely forgetting my language, or at least I was forgetting the essence of the language. I was too preoccupied with what I thought was the future, the way forward for our country. I got distracted and I forgot… I forgot my mother’s whisper … I forgot the words.

I have realised this and I now see that the language I first came to understand is dying. There is no two way about it. I have come to understand a different language so well that I have ignored my own. Because I have ignored my language it has not progressed like the language I use every day. My language (because of me) has been stagnant and if I were to continue to ignore it, it would fade away into a distant memory. Unfortunately I’m not the only one who has forgotten their language in this wonderful and divers country of ours.

I’m appealing to everyone; don’t forget your mother’s whisper. Remember the fallen.