Status Updates From Cry, the Beloved Country

Sorrow is better than fear. Fear is a journey, a terrible journey, but sorrow is atleast an arriving. When the storm threatens, a man is afraid for his house, but when the house is destroyed, there is something to do. About a storm he can do nothing, but he can rebuild a house.

Cry, the beloved country, for the unborn child that is the inheritor of our fear. Let him not love the earth too deeply. Let him not laugh too gladly when the water runs through his finger, nor stand too silent when the setting sun makes red the veld. Let him not be too moved when the birds are singing, nor give too much of his heart to a mountain or valley. For fear will rob him of all if he gives too much.

Cry for the broken tribe, for the law and the custom that is gone. Aye, and cry aloud for the man who is dead, for the women and children bereaved. Cry, the beloved country, these things are not yet at an end. The sun pours down on the earth, on the lovely land that man cannot enjoy. He knows only the fear of his heart