An extract from my "Taxi chronicles"

 

I cannot start these chronicles without first introducing this fellow who’s gripped my mind with intense curiosity. This one person is without a doubt an embodiment of meaningful and gripping interest. He stands out from all the other rowdy, controlling drivers around, who are used to yelling naturally and behaving as though they own the ground they walk on. This one fellow carries a generous amount of appeal that lies neatly and perfectly on his face. There are not enough words to sum up the level of fascination I have suddenly developed for him. It is as if he carries deep moving captions about his life, his mannerism is that of a gentle soul...roughened though by the conditions that have become his life. I find myself lost in his space, staring at him as though I were a kid looking up a human size angel. Maybe that is a bit extreme...but it feels so. I could count how many times I’ve landed in his vehicle on one hand...with each of those trips I would get lost in my maze of thoughts about why I find him to be so unique...that of course, is done again with me staring at him.

A snapshot of my thoughts...

My thoughts are wondering to what you could be doing...are you okay?

Well I’m on my way home, one day we’ll be taking this journey together.

There’s a lot we yet to share, speak of and discuss.

Your strength uproots my underlying abilities.

Your confidence in me will manifest my gifts,

How I’m thankful to the Lord, thankful that you exist and awaiting for the designated time to meet.

Little bite.

Not a lot is said about light in dark days...

But what seems to work more is remaining focused on what lies before you.

The future is far better then the past.

Living, loving and believing

Looking inside.

A pinch of a foreign world, yet it holds high intrigue.

I look on in awe as I take in the view, these busy folk embody the biggest egos.

 It seems ideal to wear a mask...

But then again my reality is quick to remind me, it would be much harder wearing such heavy pretence each day.

To resemble your surrounding and to blend in can work even when you don’t wear the same uniform. The pressure to be perfect becomes too much, as if to suffocate all areas of the clean air you survive on.

The dreams that dwell in my thoughts are exposed to how the steps in accomplishing them are taken, what needs to be done and how.

I am slightly shaken, my being is slightly foreign to the ruthless stance most seem to go by. Hard work seems to be stapled with a boneless spine...wimping along to the false sense of self deemed all important.

I owe to myself to accomplish what has my name on it, from here on and always.

Great things lie before open eyes and wide arms, ready feet and steady minds.

Trying is better than wishing, faith is the fuel of my dreams.

And so nothing is to hold me back...not even myself.

Jon-Paul...Tatoos and all.

“Feel whole part of my life is missing and don’t know how to replace it.”

A Hello Kitty tattoo on his right hand lures one into staring at his body of artwork. His limbs are canvases and each has a mini story to tell. The left side of his body displays the bad he’s endured and the right all the good he has experienced, he walks around with a body that displays various artworks and a history of a life lived on the edge and exploring the extraordinary. The sight of pictures and scriptures tattooed on his body could be easily compared to an illustrated book, with beautiful scripts and patterns. Clearly this fellow did not shy away from the ink needle.

Having enrolled in AAA Academy without a portfolio, any qualifications or a high school certificate, an underlying talent and passion for pictures and their sequences speak for themselves from his detailed body. This intriguing guy at eleven years of age had his first inhalation of weed, after finding it in his mother’s closet. Curiosity gripped him, as the same substance he saw in his home was the same as the bunch police brought to his school, for display and warning to the school kids against drugs and any other illegal addictive substances. At fifteen years, JP ended up in Boytown, a correctional school in Magalisburg. He grew up under his step dad’s constant beating, brutal and merciless in his abusive approach towards JP, now their relationship seems to have never endured the abuse. “It’s only God who could have restored our relationship.” he said with an affirming voice.

A rebel tormented by society and those he loved, he decided to leave his home. His life packed in one suitcase and his sorrows stringed in his guitar, this lonesome artist hitch-hiked his way out of his hometown, Eastern Cape to a more promising future and possibilities. God’s angels disregarding his fiery ambitions, he got a lift from a mathematics Christian teacher based in Johannesburg.

Long before he knew the directions of his life, God's angels were already present in his future. He's been clean from drugs for a year. Addictions that had become like breathing to him. “Majority of the drug users usually come from broken homes and the drugs become the easier way out.” him telling me this makes me think of other victims of drugs, who don't necessarily come from broken homes but use and abuse drugs for other unjustifiable reasons. He further tells me something that has my heart thumping fearfully. “Most drug addicts don't know God, they think it's impossible to have someone who really loves them for who they are. When they OD and die, they don't know who God is”.

Casually, Jon-Paul tells me he has been in 11 rehabs and has attempted suicide, suffers from chronic depression and sometimes has great bounds of anger when thinking of his brother and son's death, he again credits the Lord for keeping him by His forgiving side.

His words “I stopped taking my anti-depressants because in some way Jesus heals” echo in my heart as I try, for a second, imagining what this talented artist has gone through, deep in my heart I wish he didn't have to suffer the way he has. He clearly is intelligent , well spoken and probably a shy Ginger, but life has dished him quite a generous amount of heartache and struggles. JP has had to deal with his 11month old son death. His ex-wife took the boy and they went to visit her family on a nearby farm. The tot drowned during that visit and he blames himself for most of what led to that accident. His ex-wife is now a pastor and lives with his 7 year old, whom he visit during the holidays.

As he soon reveals to me, both him and his ex-wife wanted to go into ministry but life had other plans. His ex-wife went and studied after their divorce, fulfilling their dream. His late brother committed suicide because of the pressures he got from his family. “They pushed him to hard into being the image they wanted him to be, resulting in him taking his own life.” he sadly recounts.

JP admits had he gotten someone to talk to in the last couple of years, he would be coping much better. He has never broken down for the loss of his loved ones and instead his tears turn into fits of anger. “Breaking down would heal me.” Heavy words ringing in my ears after he says them with conviction. His struggle to come close to people and his failure to trust anyone has not been helpful to him either. He admits he has had to deal with social-dysfunctions and realises he needs to learn to be patient. The light at the end of this tunnel is his faith in God. He believes the Lord will work in him and that he has a future in ministry. He wants to work with broken people and adds in his hope filled talk, he isn't a pessimist. He believes he has a future which back then he didn't believe he did. “I struggle to be calm. I understand everything is a process and I have to believe in God.”

By' Thandi Xaba