I am loyiso dzizela, or better known as my satage name ‘Lerroy’. I lie on my bed and I look at the ceiling, listening to the shower outside, I close my eyes and memories come flooding to my mind. Memories of the house I was born in. A little wood and iron house set in the heart of Welbedacht. A place where sandy roads wind down undulating hills and valleys,When it rained you could hear the raindrops echo loudly on the tin roof like hail.Pounding to be let in … My story goes way back before the fame, before the power, before Lerroy had an identity worth recognising…
I grew up in a small town without a dad. I was raised by my mother. Who gave birth to me at age 15. My mum being a cocaine dealer raised me till age 12 . That was until she fell unconscious after someone had drugged her drink. I found her flat on the floor, dead.
After her death,I moved in with my grand parents as I figured my mother is never going to come back to pick me.My grandma explained that I was going to stay with them from then on. Life was different here, when the wind blew you could hear the frightening whistle of the wind come through every gap in the roof. The wind brought the strong ghastly smell of rats that lived in the ceiling… A smell that I would never forget for the rest of my life. There were nights I would hide under my blanket as I heard them have a race above the ceiling. I felt trapped, it was nothing like home, I felt deceived, cheated by my mother, by God! Thats when I started adjusting to the streets.
Within a year I began dealing with narcotics, while my grandparents thought I was at after school programmes, I also took guns and drug money to school. In the tenth grade I was caught by a metal detectorI was embarrassed that I got arrested like that, after I got arrested I stopped hiding it. I then confessed to my Grandma openly, I sell drugs.
I felt no escape, street life was what made me, I tried telling the boys I’m planning to decamp my joint , but that didn’t...