THE PENCIL TEST

Sportsman and entertainers,

Opened their hands,

Closed their eyes,

And took Krugerrands.

Under apartheid,

There was black,

And white and,

14 types of coloured,

And, to be seen,

To be correct,

The authorities

Could the 14 reject,

And a fifteenth,

Select.

Like Mendel,

And his peas,

Recessive genes,

Caused the sight

Of the sleight,

Change of colour,

In children,

No longer white.

Sometimes,

The authorities,

Couldn’t be sure,

If a child was pure,

So inspectors went,

Into the schools,

Followed the rules,

And with great care,

Placed a pencil in the hair,

And a child’s colour,

Would rest,

On the pencil test.

When the head was shook,

There was a look,

Of relief,

Physical and mental,

When the pencil,

Fell to the floor,

The child was white,

If the hair was crinkly,

And thick,

The pencil was passed,

Like a stick

Through the hair,

From front to back,

And if the pencil stalled,

The verdict called,

Was black,

What colour the parents,

Were hardly mattered,

For with the child,

Reclassified,

The family scattered,

To a new area,

To search,

A new school,

A new church,

And also there were,

Kids left,

Alone and bereft.

Political apartheid has ended,

But South Africa’s,

Not mended,

For black, coloured & white

Still live apart,

So a new start,

Is needed,

Too remove the pain,

And finally end,

Apartheid’s reign.