*GROWING UP COLOURED (PART 2)* *By Joe Hussein* Back in the days when the month-end money vanished just as fast as it came 💸 As soon as the Rails ouens started walking around with empty pockets and long faces, the army guys would roll in from the bush on R & R ,fresh boots, new kit a bit of a swagger and a few dollars to burn. It was like clockwork. The girls who had been vibing with the Rails fellas suddenly found themselves in military company. And let me tell you, those soldiers knew how to throw down. As for the house parties ,the soul of Coloured social life. You couldn’t scroll through your phone or DM someone back then, but people had a GPS for a party ! 😂🤣🤣🤣 They could smell a party from neighbouring hoods! There was no such thing as a quiet party. You’d hear the thump of the bass from two streets away. The Tempest or Supersonic system would be hooked up outside, wired with the dedication of an electrical engineer, and the smell of cologne( Old Spice,Brut,Drakker Noir) ,sweat ,and some of those pungent lotions would hang thick in the air. The playlist was fire 🔥 Earth, Wind & Fire, The Whispers, Tina Charles, Kool & The Gang, The Meters , The Pockets,George McCrae, Candi Staton and of course that one song that made everyone lose their minds: “Kung Fu Fighting” 😂🕺🏽 That track alone caused more torn bell-bottoms and flying platform shoes than any martial arts film ever could. Tsitsitsitsitsitsitsi 🙌🏽😝😝 The older ouens would show up late, usually in crews of three or four, with pressed flares, afros sprayed to perfection, empty handed of course ,but to be fair ,some would rock up with a “bomb” Oudemester Brandy,Cinzano Bianca or Ouzo or tucked under the arm. If someone brought a bottle of BOLS Brandy and a “family size “ bottle of Coke you knew it was going to be that kind of night. Gatecrashers were part of the culture. No matter how tight the guest list was, there was always that one guy no one really knew but somehow ended up dancing with the host’s cousin. 😂😂😂 He’d claim he was related to someone ,usually an uncle who didn’t exist ! 😂😂😂😂But if he brought booze, no one questioned him too hard 🤣 The uncles and aunties, though, didn’t play. They’d post up by near the fridge with folded with eagle eyes 👀.But give it a couple of hours and even they would boogying like there’s no tomorrow ,then swaying, and by midnight they’d be doing the Bus Stop . The real MVPs were the gents who pitched in with crates of Castle or Lion Lager, and knew how to spin a record without scratching it. And the host always made sure there was a pot of something cooking ,curry, stew, even sadza and stew for the hardcore crowd who stayed till sunrise. Back then, you could feel the rhythm of the hood. Laughter carried on the wind, kids peeping through the fence to catch a glimpse of the grownups dancing, and neighbours pretending to complain but secretly enjoying the free concert. The party didn’t end until the last record played, the last drink poured, and someone passed out on the lawn ,spew all over! Come Monday morning, everyone back to work. Curls set, uniforms ironed, and not a trace of the weekend’s madness ,except the silent nods and smirks as they made their way to to the bus stop. #kingsmemoirs #wheremyjourneybegan *Knowledge Is Power That Is Best Shared. Please share and follow our Citizens Movement Radio Channel using the link below* https://whatsapp.com/channel/0029VafxZGK8F2pNHgZGUP1B