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In Mowbray, Cape Town

The bungalows have names like Shangri-La and Not-a-Care.
They promise peaceful lives within. On every outside wall
a plaque says: ‘ADT Fidelity is Always There’
and threatens ‘Armed Response’. The number’s easy to recall.

Across the road, Our Haven’s wall is topped off with a line
of real and metal ivy leaves in mingled two-tone strands,
celare artem’; art and nature cunningly combine
to hide the upright spikes intended for intruding hands.

It’s Sunday, and the congregation’s spilling out from mass:
a rainbow nation gathered on the church’s patch of grass.
The Son of Man, nailed up above the faithful, casts out fear
and, on his right hand, ADT Fidelity is here.

I wonder: will there be a time, long after I am dead,
when this great country’s riches will more equably be spread
— a thought by which its liberation’s leaders were inspired —
and ADT Fidelity no longer be required?