Today I was surprised yet again When a patient told me That he liked the way I treated him. So I mused,

How can it make me happy
If I am rude or rough with you?
How can it make me happy
If I make your life difficult?
Would it help my digestion or my self-image
If I shout at you, if I am curt?

Would it make me feel superior or better than you?
Would it make my daughter, Seshnie, smile,
Or make my son, Sagren, proud?
Would it make the melanin in my skin disappear?

If I am arrogant and horrible
And cold and unfeeling,
If I bully people,
What does that say about my Soul?

What does it matter
If I have a string of University degrees and
Diplomas
If I have read Ganong or Harrison or Grant
And Gandhi and Einstein and Mandela
If I still make children cry and women weep
And men shake their heads in sadness?

When you are in pain,
And tears trickle from your eyes
Like blood from your Soul,
What kind of person would be
Simple-mindedly obsessed with himself?

I see people who can make biryani and roti
And bathe a baby
People who sew and clean
And teach children to read
People who lay bricks and fix cars
And beautify our country.
I see people, who have kissed
And sung and danced and loved,
I see people who love
And who need love.

So I say again:
Why must I upset myself by being awful to you?
It is so much easier to smile,
To be polite, to be kind, to care.
For from you come
Courtesy, humanity, appreciation and respect.
You illuminate my One Life.

When I look at you,
I see South Africa, my beloved country.
When I heal you, I serve my country
And I serve God.