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The knifing by Tatamkhulu Afrika
Black workers pass
me carrying their tools.
I call to them for help:
the stone
masks of their faces turn
aside,
do not look my way again.
He flails the blade
across the top of my skull
(does he see it as a fruit,
splittable, spewing seed?),
slashes, then,
the tender guardians of my wrists,
drives the knife-point in
below my left side’s bottom rib,
and runs.
I leave a spoor
like a wounded beast’s,
make it to the little Indian shop
that sells boiled eggs with mayonnaise,
sway,
falling about in my own blood,
eyes shouting “Help!”
They carry me to the ambulance.
The clouds sweep
me with their sad sides:
yet I hear someone speak
of the bright day
and what a shame it is that this should be done
to anyone on such a day.
A face stares
at me through the wire-mesh
of a police van.
It is his; he sees
my wretched body pass,
blood leaking at every seam:
blood that is also on his hands;
turns away, then with a suddenness that says
more than any tongue,
burrows his face into his hands.
What does he see?
They stitch and stitch,
let my head hang down
when the lights go round and I feel
sense slipping from me like a skin,
and I am the unadorned
genitals of my need.
She screams and screams,
like a cat on heat,
like a little girl drumming her heels.
But she is seventeen:
he beat her until she was all
broken up inside.
I stare at the fluorescent tube;
it shrinks
to a filament of fire in my brain.
Blood still sees
from the black Khayelitsha youth’s
panga-riven-skull;
black bruises prowl
over the old man opposite’s
white-as-his-sheet-skin.
Only I do not sleep.
Time is a pendulum that swings
unlinked to any clock:
only the black window’s scowling back
tell of night; pain writhes
through me like an eel.
I watch the glucose drip,
drop by dizzying drop,
into my veins, wake
to sunlight on the walls,
starlings flirting past the glass,
Khayelitsha mopping blood from his neck,
grinning, saying
I can borrow his pee-bottle if I want.
I sag on the bed,
glucose mellow-honey in my veins,
small pulse of reluctant life
kick-starting way back.
Khayelitsha takes my hand,
hopes I’ll soon be well;
goes out then,
moving slowly amongst the slow-
moving coterie of his friends.
Desultory Xhosa clicks
snap like trodden sticks,
fade down
an inner tribal trial.
I face him then:
his neck nuzzling my palm.
His face still hidden in his hands.
What does he see?
I think to set him free.
How shall he be free?
Or I?
Testicle to testicle, we are trussed
by the winding round
us, rambling plastic coils.
Roaring down each other’s throats,
bellowing of our need,
we are skewered on the sharp
white lightning of his blade.
General Introduction
"The Knifing" by Tatamkhulu Afrika is a harrowing poem that explores the brutality and consequences of a violent assault. Afrika's vivid imagery and raw emotion create a stark portrayal of human suffering and societal indifference. The poem is rich with themes of violence, helplessness, social division, and the search for empathy and connection in the face of trauma.
Title
The title, "The Knifing," immediately sets the tone for the poem. It suggests an act of violence that will be central to the narrative, indicating a direct and brutal encounter that has profound effects on the speaker.
Themes
1. Violence and Brutality
- The poem graphically describes a stabbing, with lines like "He flails the blade / across the top of my skull" highlighting the physical violence inflicted upon the speaker. This theme underscores the random and savage nature of human cruelty.
2. Indifference and Isolation
- The indifference of others is depicted when the speaker calls for help but the "stone / masks of their faces turn / aside." This shows how people often turn a blind eye to others' suffering, highlighting a sense of isolation.
3. Empathy and Connection
- Despite the brutality, there are moments of empathy, such as when Khayelitsha, another victim, offers the speaker his pee-bottle and wishes for his recovery: "hopes I’ll soon be well." This suggests that even in dire circumstances, human connection persists.
4. Social Division and Racism
- The poem subtly addresses social and racial divides, evident in the reference to "black workers" and the "black Khayelitsha youth." The mention of the Indian shop further highlights the diverse yet segregated social fabric.
5. Suffering and Healing
- The poem delves into the physical and psychological suffering of the victims, describing the process of medical treatment and the lingering pain: "Time is a pendulum that swings / unlinked to any clock." It reflects on the slow and uncertain journey toward healing.
Literary Devices
1. Imagery
- Afrika employs vivid imagery to convey the brutality of the attack and the subsequent suffering. For instance, "I leave a spoor / like a wounded beast’s" creates a graphic picture of the speaker's blood trail.
2. Metaphor
- The comparison of the speaker's skull to a fruit—"does he see it as a fruit, / splittable, spewing seed?"—is a striking metaphor that emphasizes the dehumanizing violence.
3. Personification
- The clouds are personified with "the clouds sweep / me with their sad sides," attributing human emotions to nature to reflect the somber mood.
4. Simile
- The speaker’s sense of slipping away is likened to a skin shedding: "sense slipping from me like a skin," vividly illustrating the feeling of losing consciousness.
5. Symbolism
- Blood is a recurring symbol representing life, violence, and guilt. The line "blood that is also on his hands" signifies shared guilt and the consequences of violent actions.
6. Alliteration
- Afrika uses alliteration to enhance the poem’s rhythm and impact, such as in "panga-riven-skull" and "blood leaking at every seam."
Language and Mood
The language of the poem is direct and unflinching, reflecting the rawness of the experience. The mood shifts from initial terror and pain to a more reflective and somber tone as the speaker contemplates the aftermath of the attack and the connections formed in its wake.
Context
Tatamkhulu Afrika was a South African poet whose work often reflected the harsh realities of apartheid and its aftermath. "The Knifing" can be seen as a commentary on the pervasive violence and deep social divides in South African society, capturing both personal trauma and broader societal issues.
Conclusion
"The Knifing" by Tatamkhulu Afrika is a powerful exploration of violence, human suffering, and the search for empathy in a divided society. Through its vivid imagery and poignant themes, the poem challenges readers to confront the brutality and indifference that can permeate human interactions, while also acknowledging moments of shared humanity and connection amidst the pain.
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