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?

 

Vuyo is taking Sipho on vacation

It is time to shake things just a little bit this month, so please pay attention.

I will be taking Sipho and Vuyo on holiday for a while, but I will not leave you with no entertainment. In their place I will be posting two short stories of a combined 8000 word give or take.

They will be in posts of 500 to 600 words each, again Monday to Friday between 15:00 and 16:00 C.A.T. The first story you have already came across bits of it and I am hoping you will love the full story as much as you did the others.

All this will start on Monday 06 March.

I am so looking forward to your interesting views on my corner of the world. I really do appreciate the time you invest on my blog and I hope I am on the right tract to giving you the best ROI every time. All the best to you all, keep writing and sharing pieces of your world.

It is the end…

I hate the end of the month in South Africa, not the 15th of the month, which is a month end for most government employees, but the dates 25 to 30/31 or in this month 28 of each month.

25 is mostly for those working in the mines and 30/31 is for the rest of those employed in other sectors. I hate it because of what it does to my fellow country men in their frantic search for money saving bargains and the endless need to have hard cash in their hands. What I hate the most is that most are broke two day after payday.

This is what I experienced while living in Rustenburg for three years, where mine workers are so over indebted to the point that by day two after payday, they are already at the doors of loan sharks that are scattered around the town and those informal ones in the living quarters, villages and townships.

It pains my to see how a hard working black men have nothing valuable to show at the end of their service life because of the constant chase of booze, fancy cars, designer clothes, private schools, latest smart phones, black tax which by the way is the long term legacy of the poor management systems of both the previous and the present government policy implementations, if you don’t know what I am talking about, ask any black person with a job and a poor family background, and everything else that do not give them that comfortable old age lifestyle.

It is really painful to see how poorer they become with each day they wake up and give their lives to the other men for him to become far more richer than is he could count. It pains me to see how the single mothers of some of those men’s children queue for hours to receive a small piece of the tax that these hard working poor men had paid. YES the rich also pay tax and I really hate those that have found the back doors to not paying tax.

No one likes paying tax but the only honest way to not pay it is to die. The end of the month brings with it the rush to comply with the politics of our stomachs and also the means of how we are going to numb the agonizing thoughts of waking up each day just to get that temporary high of the balance in our bank accounts of numbers that are more than two digits reflected in them.

But worse of all these is those people with two items breathing over your head in line at the super market at this very time of the month, as if you don’t have anything better to do except wait in that long queue with you over flowing trolley. You turn around and looked at what they are in such a hurry to pay for, and it is a bottle of soda and a chocolate bar, really… and you are here breathing like a lion giving birth.

The only reminder I have in my house that it is month end is the envelop on my TV screen from my pay-tv service provider, I really avoid the rush as I am afraid of crowded places, this is made worse by my claustrophobia. My father taught me that I only buy things that my pocket can afford with his way of paying cash for what he wanted and had planned for, for months. I do the same with my groceries, I buy what I know I need for the whole month without bothering with where they say it might cost me 50c less.

The shop hopping for me makes no logic, as I see it to be more time consuming and money wasting to get into a taxi just to go get a 50c off from something I know I really need like roll on. The amount of petrol and waiting in that queue just does not add up for me I am sorry.

But for now all I can do is have hope that my two year old nephew will know better by the time he gets to know experience the high of payday and the meaning of paying tax.

Be the inspiration to those that inspire you

Earlier last year I had a friend whom I showed a piece that I had been working on and was having trouble with second guessing myself as usual, so I asked for her opinion on it. She give me pointers that I realized that I had but did not put in with the piece, they somehow managed to hide in my story folder.

That then gave me the boost I needed in that moment to go ahead and distribute to the group I was helping with samples of writings, that they were going to act out in their class. My friend then gave me something that she had, it was a poem and from that I wrote a short story of just over 2000 words in 90 minutes.

She was amazed not only be how easy I made that look, but also by the knowledge I had about the place that she based her poem on. We both became each other’s inspirations, and she started taking her love of writing poems up again. She had stopped for some time because of a friend she thought was a good person and a mentor, took off with her work and publish it without her permission, under his name and took all the credit for it.

My friend never saw anything from her hard work and the guy, so that made her not to trust any person with her work. I consider myself lucky to have come across this lady and we shared those words, sadly she moved to another part of Gauteng and we have not kept in touch about writing. My bad I am that horrible with keeping up with people that only phone you back if you phone them first.

Relationships are like investments, you both need to keep putting equal time in, in order for it to grow and give you both good returns. I have a very short concentration on anything that I don’t get a return value on. I am that bad, this include family members that always expect my out stretched hand to reach theirs which is by the way always in their pockets.

But I am grateful to have been given that chance to be an inspiration to one person in my life and that inspired me to push myself even more. She got back into writing poems before she moved and the one that she showed me, was all about her husband and how his name is a big deal and not just a name.

I was again so proud that from forcing my sister to come with me to Abantu book festival last year December, where she got to attend poetry sessions and two were by Lebo Mashile, in the first she was the host and the second on Sunday she performed, and from that my sister wrote poems once more. Something that I last saw when we still shared a bedroom in our teens. The so called poem I wrote for her after we talked and she told me how EMPTY she felt because of the momentary circumstances she was in at the time.

That was very first attempted at poetry and when she finally read it, all she could say was it was so empty and loved it, and I was more happy seeing her wearing her big smile once again. Not only was it all about those that were close to me but I got a long distance mentor that I came across on Facebook, and discovered she was also on WordPress, and we kind of share similar things. LadyLebz is my virtual mentor and her posts really inspire me to keep doing what I am doing and to the best of my abilities, I am learning the journalism side of writing from her and I own thanks to her. She did tell me that I too do inspire her in the way I am able to just put it out there like I do.

It is such little gestures that keeps me going, how do you keep going in your world?

Remembering you

You are my rock, my propeller, my water and food

Thank you for not being that junk food though. I have found my church in you

I love falling in love with you each day I open my eyes

I love feeling powerless with each one of your touch, the lightness that comes over me when we kiss

You are my church

I am flying, I am woman, I am alive, I am loving

Loving you feels so natural like I was born to love you

You were born to love me too

We please each other with such ease

I love how your hairs stand when I go down to your…

And how you make that high pitched sound when you are pleased

Pleased and filled with the love that we share

That we love giving to each other each night we go down of each other go in and out in and out of each other time after time before laying breathless next to each other

Breathless in each other’s arms, breathless looking into each other’s eyes as if to see how far our love has gone inside each other

I love loving your ways of turning each day to an episode in our lives that I will remember for life

The heat of your body at night when I run out of dreams puts me back to that peaceful sleep

I love loving my Mo with all his small crazy gestures of showing he can be romantic too, to some they might come out as stupid but I still go gaga over them, the notes he leaves on my pc each night for me to find in the morning when I come to interact with the world