Who was I before you came into me.

I was simple and easy going. I was proud of my full round pot belly, enjoying being beaten by the hot African sun all year round. Being at harmony with those that came before you, because they understood me.

They understood the balancing act, the love act between us. We were one with each other. Then you came along with your hard penetrating thing. It didn’t take you long to convince those you found here that your hard thing was good.

Good at penetrating my full round pot belly. I remember your first penetration, you tried to go in fast and hard but you underestimated me. You did not think I was going to fight back, and boy did I put up a fight. You lost some of those you came along with and that made you rethink your approach.

You perfected your smooth talking skills and got the people around me to start doing your dirty work. Your dirty work on how and where to penetrate me easy and they did break me.

You got in and got what you wanted and just when I thought you were done, you just had to have your way with me and you broadcasted to the world how you had conquered me and my pot belly.

You all wanted a piece of me and since I was already broken, I had no choice but to give in and give up my pot belly. Over the years I have become so easy to be penetrated.

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Please identify yourself.

(1230 words)

“Congratulations miss, you are three weeks pregnant.”

I can still hear the echo of that doctor’s voice ringing in my head after all these years. I remember the small talks I had with strangers in the doctor’s waiting room, while in queue after weeks of non-stop headaches and nosebleeds.

Those words were the last thing I expected that day, and I think I blacked out after that moment because everything else after that, sounded like people whispering in the next room. It was a cool Saturday afternoon in the winter of 1999.

The next day I prepared for Monday’s job interview, finished my assignments and took a bath around five in the early evening, a typical Sunday afternoon. But all that changed when I caught my reflection on the fridge door after pouring myself a glass of wine to go sit in the garden with a book.

“I am going to be a mom.”

From that moment on I knew my life had changed. My life plans and dreams were no longer about me, but about us and you as number one.

I wanted only the best of everything for you, including the very best of me.

I thought the world was watching me with sharp-edged knife eyes before but boy, that was nothing compared to when you started introducing yourself to the world towards my final year exams. At work I had to work even more harder to proof myself to the world that I was just as capable as everyone else, or even better.

I felt like a naught school child each time I went in just to be called into my boss’ office to check-in and my work assessed. That was nothing compared to the reactions I got when I finally went home that December. That was the longest weekend of my life.

“What did you do my child? This is not what I sent you to school for. Why do you hate us so much? How can you do this to us?”

That was my parents for you.

“Ya, who did this to you? Whose child is this? Are they going to marry you now? Did you even finish your studies? At least that way we can charge them even more that way.”

That was my uncle, brothers and aunt.

“Ijo, typical, they think they are better than us all when they sent them to varsity, but they still come back just like the rest of us and having wasted all that money with only a big belly to show and nothing better.”

The neighbourhood and society in general.

I was even told at one point that I could not work in my ‘condition’. But you know me, I went back to work on Monday and everyday until March. It was the Easter weekend that weekend and we were going to go home earlier on Thursday, so I that Monday I had asked my boss for a day off on Thursday, as my nosebleeds and headaches had returned for a couple of weeks by then.
Thursday 30 March 2000, 06:30am, that’s when we laid eyes on each other, after 20 hours of back and forth. I could hear in the background all the congratulations and clapping after I told your father that he has a son. It was as though he had won the lotto.

Wednesday 5 April I was back at work with you in the packing lot with my cousin in your father’s car. We fought that morning and I took off with you and his car because I told him I was going to work.

By end of April you were still my partner in breastfeeding in the parking lot. Your father bought another car, moved to a new place and only came on weekends to see you.

On the anniversary of me finding out about you, I found myself infront of my boss with you on my breast, negotiating my full-time employment contract, after I finally collected proof of my qualifications. His answer pushed me to want more for you, I registered to further my qualifications.

By now I was used to people giving me crazy disgusted looks each time they saw us ‘eating’ in the parking lot. That went on until the end of the year, and the following I placed you in a nearby crèche and forced my cousin to go to varsity.

Here we are today, 17 years later as I stand here on this podium infront of teenagers and I can tell you, I have done things, taken on tough assignments, but I have never been as terrified as I am right now. Nothing could have ever prepared me for this, not my Phd nor MBA helped calm the nerves of facing a group of 200 17 and 18 year olds.

When your father passed away 5 years ago, I thought I was going to drawn in raising a teenage boy all by myself, but today I can stand here proud and give myself a pat on the back and say a job well done.

If I may read from your own book that came out last week, “My mom made me who I am today and from here on I take over and determine what I will become.”

With that I want to tell you that, you might think that you stopped breastfeeding your child ages ago, but I have learned that our kids don’t stop suckling from us. We as women are asked things like, who is the father, why didn’t you change your surname when you got married, told we should get married and give our husbands and in-laws children, our children will not prosper if we didn’t give them their fathers’ surnames.

I say NO to that and women, we are stronger and important to just be chucked aside as if we are just baby producers. I ask you today to look inside you and ask you this, ‘ Why am I letting a nickname of my father’s bloodline determine who and what I become?’ Yes that’s how surnames came about in part.

If we are able to carry a human being inside of us for 10 months, push then out of our vaginas, hold a job while studying and raising other humans, (that includes our partners as they develop and grow in life and career), why do we then let others to reduce us to dust beneath their shoe?

As you are about to take to the dance floor, to my son’s date I day, those arms are strong and comforting, he has made his choice and that is why he now has two surnames on his ID. After 12 years of hard work in basic schooling are you now going to settle for comfort in those arms and other arms, let someone else determine your destination or are you going to take over and determine what and who you will be?

So go out into the world after this dance and carve your own identity, hell even fight to have your husbands take on your surname, or just turn my fight of keeping my maiden surname into law. Above all, make sure the stories about you told down generations in your bloodline, are what you chose to be. Take a page from my son’s book and see how he got to this point of having two surnames on his ID, and GO ROCK THE WORLD!

Leave tomorrow to worry about tomorrow

You are surrounded by today yet your mind is already worried about tomorrow’s ideas and ideals. You are pre-occupied by all kinds of ‘What if’s’and the mental drain leaves you paralysed with fear.

You woke up, opened the blinds/curtains, opened the windows and took in a big deep breath of fresh air after the overnight first rains of the season. You see to everyone’s needs and wants for the day, then it’s your turn. Your time in the crazy busy world to think about you and only you.

And in less than a moment, you let them in, sit there with them and even try to own them…the dark clouds of self-doubt.

What if I am not good enough

What if no one reads any of the words I put out

Except for family and a few friends, no one knows I exists

 

Because there are so many more important people other than you

Wah Wah Blah Blah

On top of all this self-doubt, you add on the weight of what you have to come up with tomorrow, in order to still be remembered by those in your niche, with the hope of capturing a few new interested parties.

You worry about tomorrow’s weather, tomorrow’s first political stupid tweet, the first blog post from people in your circles and again adding to your already overflowing ‘What ifs’ bowl with more ‘what ifs’.

What if my post is last in line and it does not even come anywhere close to those that came out before or it come out as a cliché because all others have already said something like that.

Your heart beat so fast that you fall, you don’t even just take a seat, you fall on your bum because you are crippled by anxiety and mental defeat.

Only to wake up a year later and realise there have been and are still people in your corner singing your praise to others in their circles and asking questions about your next project.

They did not show their full interest in you because they did not want to pump up your ego and put more pressure on you, with the anticipation of having to meet that silent unsaid contract with them.

You open your eyes and realise you love writing, you are writing, and don’t need approval from anyone to put your thoughts and ideas out into the world and worry not about who happened to stumble upon your writings and like it. You validated yourself first long before you seek validation from others.

With that, all else is just a bonus to what you already chose to believe and know, that you are a creator of meaningful words that keep the world smiling and thinking of all the creatives all around the world.

All the book sales, blog likes, email subscribers, new followers, movie deals, are just a bonus.

When you reach that ‘Bonus’ status and state of mind, you know you have let got and left tomorrow to worry about tomorrow.

You are in this moment and loving it.

When saying ‘I love you’ hurts

I love you

Three simple words that can turn someone’s world inside-out and leave you with feelings of none stop explosion.

But sometimes…

Sometimes they can bare the mark of the worse point in your life. You hear someone say them to you and in your mind the echoes of the past experiences and you feel something in you burning and wanting to get out. You manage to get that fire under control and clinch your fist and butt just to force these three little words out.

How long will that last?

Do you continue hovering the hurt inside or do you choose to openly love again without holding back? Or is the hurt so bad that even thinking of LOVE hurts over and over again without breaking?

You feel betrayed love, destroyed from the inside and feel like the world can see that you failed to stay in love and grow.

You look at yourself in a mirror and all you see is ashes from the you that was told ‘I love you’ at one point in your life. At one point where you felt on top of everything just because you heard those three words said to you daily.

But now you are not even sure that you even want to hear them again, though you told yourself and the world that you had fixed things and started over.

You finally choose to be happy and that in your world does not include these three word being shared with anyone except yourself. You find that spark that was truly the one thing pushing you to do good and keep going. You share love but you don’t want to hear the words I LOVE YOU because you never again want to hurt.

You once trusted your love to someone, you went all in and gave it all that was possible within you to love, but you got burned. I love you hurts even more when you hear I am sorry coming with it.

Dear soon to be ex…

So here we are, some place I did not think I will ever reach, not that it does not exist but when I started this journey with you, I did not occur to me that we, us, me and you, you and I, us, will be here one day.

Someone once told me to always expected the unknown unexpected, and truly speaking this is the first for me and I am lost. I wish I could say I don’t know how we got here but that will be a lie, it is just that I chose to ignore so many of your out cries and out bursts so many times as they had been happening so often lately.

At first I thought I won’t cry over this part, but today I found myself so weak so hopeless so… I have no words, and I burst out crying. Crying alone which is something that I do when I have no answers to the pain inside me that I don’t want the world to see on my face. Pain I want to ignore and pretend its not there, but today I cried, cried really bad but I think I am okay now or will be soon.

I must admit, it is still going to hurt for some time to come still, but I have to learn to let go and put things in order. I have to learn anew how not to expect your warm breath next to me, I have to learn know I won’t have you to be mad at, I have to learn to fill my bed and keep myself warm, I have to learn to stop crying over us, over you, over this pain.

I never thought us will ever be reduced to duties and roles played, to manipulations, secrets, accusations, lies, who has what, who is more educated or who had the better education, the virtual significant other, other than me or you in us.

So many questions now fill my head, like this one, was there ever us? Or have we always fooled each other knowing fully well that this is just you and I? Was this always a plan to just put out the fire and dish out the worst pain just at the moment when I thought we were far from what was always expected to happen?

I don’t want to go there because I should have known and seen this coming a mile away, but my believe in us blinded me. I now know I have to get my shit together and figure out what is next, how to navigate this new route and unknown world that I find myself in now. You know, I wish so hard to hate you but those feelings of hate don’t want to fill me, I even find it funny saying that I wish to hate you, because it just sound insane.

I don’t have it in me to hate you, I told you over and over for years that I love you and I am blushing just saying I love you. I don’t know what to do with these feelings now because they have no where to go, no one to be given to and shared with, they are just lingering around.

I appreciate this last moments we are having, your cold face and voice, limited interactions, the cold looks. But at least I can still feel your warm body at night even though I know it won’t be there for long, even if it’s by accident that we even touch or is it because of the limited bed space, I hope not and will hold on to the accidental touching thought.

The morning greetings are met by a frown, the going to work goodbyes are done at a distance if they are said at all, there are no more replies to texts, just short phone calls that are less than ten seconds. This is were we find us after all these years of our crazy ups and downs, defying the rules and doing things OUR way as we saw fit for US. That was us at one point…I can’t believe this…

Wow…It really hurts…this is sooo missed up. I know what your next step is but beyond that paper I don’t, but here I am and I don’t know what to do, should I fight this, should I just let go and let be, what kind of person will I be after us, after you, but what is worse is the innocent people that are going to be more worse off than me and you and the end of this.

I did not want to bring them into this because I wanted this to be just about us, but they too are a big part of us, and this will destroy them. I am not saying you should stop your already rolling actions, no and I am not playing the guilt card. We created them equally and therefore I think they should be able to get our attention and love and to get to us equally without feeling any pressure, they did nothing to us to be where we are today.

I am thankful for your time in my life, without you in it for that long, I don’t know I would have turned out and I will never know because no one can turn back time and do over, but know I will be starting something I know nothing of, life without your smile, warm body, angry pissed off look, smell, goofiness and playfulness. Thank you for all this and more.

Thank you for also giving me time to adjust to life without you, with all the coldness around here lately, it is giving a chance to figure things out and to not rush into things just because I am emotionally driven right now. Life will never be the same and I know I will never ever again come across someone like you. Our good times were good, and I am glad our bad times never lasted more than three days at any given time.

I seriously don’t know where to start because it hurts so bad so much so deep, but thank you and I wish you all the best and hope you find everything I was unable to give you and the satisfaction you seek. I have no bitterness what so ever, and I am hoping life will treat you with kindness where ever you will be and prosper in what ever you put your mind to.

It will hurt when I see you around, worse when I see you with someone else, but I will be okay I won’t go crazy on you don’t worry because I love you too much to hurt you like that. I will cry maybe but a glass of wine if not the whole bottle will help me sleep. I just want you to know that I still care and I will always love you.

And as some song writer said; SOMETIMES LOVE JUST AIN’T ENOUGH

I will miss your snoring though and your smelly feet….HA…HA

The thorn in your comfort zone

We all have it, all races, all colours, all sexes, the comfort zone and it has nothing to do with anything materially one have.

I read somewhere about success beginning at the end of one’s comfort zone, my addition to that is your comfort zone should be the thorn in your comfort. It should be like my favourite sofa, I love putting my butt there for hours, working, eating, commanding including napping. My sofa is like soulful food, that warm fresh towel after a bath at the end of a long day, that glass of wine when the house is finally quite and you can run around naked and singing a song you don’t know.

But my sofa is my thorn in my comfort zone, the more time I spent with it, there worse my health complications gets more complicated. My sofa is that thorn that reminds me that if I want to ever put on my high heel again, I should consciously remove my butt off of it and put on my sneakers and keep moving.

This is because I have my high heels hanging on the hall directly in-front of my sofa, as a reminder of why my comfort zone is the thorn in my comfort after a long day, and that keeps me going. I know that I will never wear those high heel, but if I love my comfort zone more, I will loose my freedom of going where ever I want without being scared of falling.

Comfort zone is just full horrible things to be honest, fear of the unknown, lots of self doubts, the mental self-esteem crushers, so many what ifs that never materialize, dreams that stays in our heads and never contribute to the betterment of the world, and all these we create in our heads just not to interact with the world.

There is nothing wrong with having a comfort zone, it should be there in times when you need that safety net when life happens the way you did not plan it. Just like when I come home and plant my butt on my sofa and enjoy that feeling, that pulsating feeling up and down my legs. I love them both because without appreciating the other, the other cannot happen.

I love the thorny side of my comfort zone, as it gives me the chance to keep pushing for my goals, and comfort me at the end of the day when I need that hug to can recharge and start all over again.

Comfort zones should be fun, be thorny, act as safety nets BUT never be dream killers, creators of low self-esteem and image, promoters of failure and poor health.

The power of a blank page

Setting here staring at a blank page wondering where the words to fill it are going to come from. You look around the room and find the most uninspiring thing looking back at you and in that moment words start filling your head. You can’t even type enough to keep up with every word that flows in and wanting to come out and fill the white screen that was a moment ago, staring at you while you thought you were the one staring at the blank page.

It was indeed staring at you, waiting to be turned into a big chunk of meaningful worthy paper, that has a potential to change someone’s life or just have an ever lasting memory planted in them. But for some time before this you did not know if it was even worth sitting here and bothering anymore with working with words.

Yes working I said, creating anything from scratch with no previous reference to any other written word like it, is a full time activity that need to be practiced and nurtured all the time for it to bare more meaningful outcomes, not just for the end user but to you the creator of the work.

It can come as naturally as breathing to some and to others it need some training for it to be of use to the many or the few that will come across it and see its usefulness.

Its usefulness can come in many forms, be it informative, be it entertaining, amusing even educational. Someone might use it once and leave it there and never bother to mention it ever again in their life, someone else might come across the same piece and linger around it  and hold on to it for future reference. Someone might find it and just keep sharing it over and over again, with anyone they think might find it just as interesting as they did.

The same person can even go an extra mile and persuade them to also keep sharing it with others and on and on it will go and amazingly it might find its way back to you. In a way of a recommendations by someone in your circle or in that moment you were sitting next to some guy on your way home one evening after working on yet another blank page the whole day that day.

That whole day you were still wondering why you keep torturing yourself like this and in that moment when this stranger next to you hands you those bound pages with that gorgeous cover that says take me home. Your eyes open wider, your heart beats faster, you want to jump out of your body and scream hallelujah to the top of your voice, you even thought of kissing the poor guy.

He just made your day worth all the crumps you felt on your butt as you set there putting together another masterpiece. Another blank page that was once again staring at you like you were the worst criminal on the face of the earth. But look at that last blank page and what you did to it.

You listen to this guy tell you what it did to his life and why he thinks you look like you need it in that moment on your ride home. You smile, you think again of the first blank page and now you are staring down on those beautiful life changing pages you produced and it hit. You want more, you want to hear more people talk like this guy.

Your journey home that evening seemed to be too short as you arrive at your crossroads, where your ride now takes you on separate ways, and you wonder, should I have told the guy about staring at a blank page one time in your life, should I have told him how you know about the person who put together those words in these nicely bound pages? Or maybe you should have just said you had your own copy, but where will the fun be in that?

Where will the thrill of going on another staring contest with the blank page going to come from, so as to meet another similar stranger? Where were you going to hear all those life changing moments of that guy and your bound pages that were once just blank and frustrating?

Look at them now, they are driving you to continue the staring and the frustrations because at the end they all come together and ultimately please and amaze you, the creator of all things written.

I can’t even imagine what it would be like if you had closed that blank page, signed your life away to the comfort of the 9 to 5 madness of enslaving your creativeness to Mr X just because he gives you $x every 28-30 days.

Responsibility, who is accountable?

finally my problem decided to give me a smallanyana break and let my do this now, fingers crossed

Ijo this is a 1031 word post, please bare with me.

Almost daily now this year, some road somewhere in our country is blocked off in the early hours of the morning by some protesting communities, unhappy people because of some acts by the leadership of our country.

We have a democratic government in our country and we are know it is the government for the people by the people because it is the people who make the choice of who they want to govern them for the following five years. Be it in national, provincial and local/municipal spheres of government.

But what I ask most times is, how is it that we are told that we made the choice of who is to lead us, where as the politicians are the ones within their parties that force the their chosen person down our throats and say we have a choice at the ballots

How is that democracy?

This past few weeks if not months, we saw again the lives of the most vulnerable and those that depend the most on our government to look after their interests and put them above personal gains, be mistreated and put in a state of continuous anxiety yet again. Over 17 million people who depend on South African social security agency are in a state of panic and anxiety as no one is giving them straight answers as to whether they will be able to put food on their tables come April 1st.

Is it going to be the biggest April’s fool the world will ever see?
But who is going to be laughing at who’s expense?

Our very own president, Mr J Zuma just last year showed us that he was above the law, and now those that are loyal and following him, followed in his very footsteps and did the same yesterday, they all disrespected the orders of the highest court of our land. They are so loyal to him, they follow him blindly, and forget that they are not accountable to him but to the nation. But what is to be expected of the ruling party that has smallanyana parties within itself that are fighting all the time.

Our constitution is so beautiful, one of the things it had guaranteed in it, is the one man one vote policy, something that was a dream to all black people in this county. With that right comes the responsibility to choose someone that has the best interest of our country above all else. Those elected in government are expected to serve selflessly and to the best of their abilities.

But do they?

We see it each day the game of diketo they play with the lives of South Africans, acquire as such as possible from those in the field of play for as long as you have the upper hand, and do not pay any attention to those that start to call you out on your cheating ways. Do not be bothered by the smallanyana player that finds it overwhelming that they trusted you to play fair and take turns for all to have a chance to acquire some part of the game.

Our leaders seem to take pleasure in changing the rules of every game they enter into to always give them the advantage of getting away with so many things that none wants to bare any responsibility for. We choose them with the hope for change, but soon we realize that change by their hand is just an illusion.

Most black people choose the same leaders or rather the ame ruling party not out of loyalty to their ways, but loyalty to the fear of ever being ruled by the minority white. Their past experiences of the lives they lived in those days still plays a big role in how they make their choices come elections. It hurts them to see their loyalty be paid back with more misery.

If this is a government by the people for the people, how are we responsible and accountable to ourselves?

Who is responsible for not having the means to make meaningful changes in our country?
Do we as citizens know the powers within us or do we still see ourselves in that unhealthy relationship of ‘ya bass’ and because they give un something we might as well just keep them in-charge? That little is taking us no where fast and we will forever be slaves to our leaders no matter their external colour.

Each individual has to take responsibility of the choices they make and be accountable for their actions, no matter how little they think of themselves or how big for that matter. But the choices should be that of our own making and not those forced upon us by others. Our leaders are playing games with our lives, we know that by now as they have shown us time and time again.

What are we as citizens doing about it for our nation building better tomorrow?

Complaining is simple, as we have been told time and time again, how are we going to unite, forget skin colours and t-shirt colours, and come together to build our country as best as we know it could be? Clearly our ‘imposed upon us’ leaders forgot about us the people and thought through their pockets and stomachs.

We can do better, I know we can

March 21 is human rights day in our country, how many of us will be drinking and eating and for a moment forgetting all those who are still in the grip of anxiety over where their next meal is going to come from?

Who will account to them and take responsibility of causing us all the mental issues that are brought about by all this worries, because with anxiety comes depression and all kinds of negative thought about one self worth?

How many hearts are going to stop come 1 April, either from the disappointment or the relief?

Are we even going to know about them, or will they just be ruled out as natural causes?

 

How many have to be…before we make any difference

Last week in The shorts: All for you: Part 1 we met Lesego the teen mom, who later we saw be a mom of three before she was 25 years old. Today our minister of basic education was reporting on 2015 schooling stats, and from that 15000 teen girls were reported to have fallen pregnant.

Then while listening to talk radio 702, with host Redi Tlhabi, she said something that I have been wondering about for sometime. Mme Redi asked something along the lines of, who fathers these kids, and if its adult men then it is statutory rape as some of these girls were as young as twelve. She also said if these teen are impregnated by other teen boys, then we as a society have a much bigger problem.

Our minister also said that we need to educate our teens more on the consequences of having unprotected sex, then I asked myself, what have our education system been teaching our children in the compulsory subject Life orientation/ Life skills, from grade R to 12. I asked this because just a few week ago my second daughter came home and showed my drawings of both male and female sexual organs, and told me what they were taught about how babies are made that day. My daughter is in grade 6.

Some few years back, her older sister who is now in grade 12, came home and told us that her teacher had told them to ask us what we as parents would do if they (boys and girls of her age) started dating, she was still in primary school as well by then. Years back our government had a campaign for the prevention of HIV spreading, the famous ABC, abstain, be faithful, condomize, mostly aimed at young people.

The latest campaign is double up, where you use both condoms and contraceptives, which both  are free at government clinics. At some point condoms where distributed at schools, you can even find them on sphaza shops point of sale. Each year nurses go around school to give HPV vaccines to girls from age 9, and also educate them about sex.

Now I ask, is it about education or is there something bigger that drives these statistics on teen pregnancies?

Are we as parents and society letting our by children get away with not taking any responsibilities for their part in these pregnancies? Do we have to look the other way each time we see an old men with a teen girl in a car under a tree, just because she is not your child, then go around labelling her all sorts of things and the guy just gets away without any labels that hurts their very core of being human?

Going back to Mme Redi’s statements, how many of those teen girls’ parents ever laid criminal charges against men that raped their children? Or they just see another meal ticket as their circumstances at home are that poor, that that man is just looked at as another way of providing for their family? Or is it that they do not know that what that man did is rape, or they know but have just lost faith in our justice system as many have in our country? Or is it a question of if that man went to jail, who will provide for the new born child?

If the pregnancy is as a result of a teen boy, why is society so hard on teen girls and their family but not on the teen boys? In most of our black cultures when a girl is unmarried and is found to be pregnant, the family of the girl meet with the family of the boy/man responsible for the pregnancy, for the boy/man to acknowledge and take responsibility for the baby.

If the boy is still too young and cannot provide, his family takes on the responsibility of the baby until he is able to take over, some families even force the two new parents to marry. Which on the other hand still puts the girl child at a disadvantage as she will still be faced with being a wife and a mother and her education still surfers the same as if she was just left to raise the child just with the help of her family. At least that way her own family sometimes encourage her to complete at least her basic education while they look after the baby.

How many Lesegos do we know in our communities and we have just labelled them and turned our backs? 

Some might put the blame on parents, but take it from me, no matter how on-hands you are and how you explain, tell real life stories and show your children all the responsibilities that comes with sex or how ever you put it, your children make their choices and unfortunately you cannot be with them 24/7 and live their lives for them with all the knowledge and experience you have.

Have we as females let males dominate us to the point where we take pleasure in belittling other females because of acts males do to us?
Have we as society become so numb that responsibilities  are just a word or some luxury that no one wants?

 

Your fear of the unknowns

Have your fears emanated through to your children to the point where they affect how they (your children) interact with the world?

I once heard that we create our own fears in our own heads just by thinking too much. We do not have all the answers to all that we don’t know, but that is why adventure and discovery are there. When you look at a child’s interaction with the world, the first time it is able to follow moving objects, do you ever wonder what happened to that curious look in your own eyes?

LESEGO in All For You, this week’s short story, could be seen by some as a typical teen girl looking for an easy life. But on the other hand one can look at her as someone who never lost her sense of wonder as a child. She did not look back and want to fall on to the comfort of her parents’ love, but went into the world and created her own story.

What I discovered was that so many others just concluded that nothing good can ever come from such a person as Lesego, who they saw as a burden to society, but never saw that one of her children will turn out to be a genius.

Taking her parent’s reaction to her pregnancy, might have been influenced by their own past experiences. We should remember that most African cultures, once a girl child have their first menstrual cycle, they are deem a full grown woman ready for marriage. Which could be have been one of her mother’s fears, and that her child never go through such.

Again Lesego shows us the other side of fear.

Lesego became a paralyzed parent when it came to her own children’s discipline. We saw how GOITSEMANG was able to do as she pleased and talk back and swear at her mother, even in-front of other people. Society might judge her harshly in this regard and not lend a hand to guide her to be a better person for her children, in order to cut the circle of those they deem a burden.

From Lesego’s life experiences, Goitsemang was just a reflection of her mother and that it was expected to be that way, since it was the only way she knew a girl child to behave. She let her fears take over and blind her to what was the truth. We rush to act without questioning what the real deal is. Goitsemang rebelled just to have a better outcome in life, she was lucky to have found her support in her boyfriend and his family, which is very rare in our societies these days.

We saw Goitse turn out okay by her own account, and that means her fears of turning out like her mother propelled her to hold herself high and not let society label her otherwise. She learned to appreciate her mother’s complex life and all the fears that build her to be the person she is. Did her mom’s fears rub off on her? Yes they did because she is now an over protective involved mother.

How conscious are you of yours?