LawLIfeLeanings

29 November 2010

Love is that shiny coin with no tail... just two heads.. right? right?

So, some guy - his identity is irrelevant - chased after a girl for many many moons... after playing hard to get, she eventually relented.. she "agreed" to be his one and only, his pudding pie, his left butt-cheek... what he did not bargain for, however, was that she LITERALLY wanted to be a part of him.. always there, never far enough to be missed.. wasting his SMS bundle and well generally being a nuisance of a girlfriend... so he dumped her... His reason? "She's just toooooo into me!"


Now, you're probably thinking "Huh? He did what now? Guys never know when they have it good!"... When I heard this short tale, I was quick to applaud the young fella - assuming he is "young" of course... I applaud him for the year of patience and perseverance that he spent pursuing this girl and for cutting her off swiftly once he realised he'd caught himself a piranha instead of bream... He clearly learnt rather late that wasting time is... well... wasting time!


Thing is, though I sometimes blindly support whatever psycho stuff {wo}men choose to do when in love, I cannot for the life of me allow myself to back people who choose to make other people the centre of their universe... and thus cease to exist. This young lad did her a favour, I hope she thanked him..


Don't get me wrong, there is nothing wrong with being madly, deeply into someone... in fact, I would sooner stand in the rain singing some old ballad to woo a guy if I thought I stood a chance.. risk catching pneumonia even... I really would. Yes, that's crazy, but I would only do it if I was certain that he's into that kinda crazy stuff... if I was certain that he would run out and stand in the rain with me... that we would spend the next week sharing chicken soup trying to get better.. I really would. Thing is, I know better! {I also hate chicken soup}


The trouble is some girls (and many a guy.. "Hi ex number 2, 3 and 4" *evil grin*) are just psycho like that... always in their partner's pocket, stuck to them like glue... what starts off as a parasitic symbiotic relationship just fizzles into a parasitic relationship.. when you take up more than just space and time.. when you want to ALWAYS be with them and suck them dry of life. Relationships aren't meant to kill the individuals and merge them into one ugly amorphous mass of neediness, they are meant to strengthen the individuals.. Y'know, that "winning couple swag"... the ever elusive "perfect pair"... she doesn't pretend to enjoy Saturday afternoon football and he doesn't go shoe shopping with her, but they work out just fine... Each brings their star quality to the table, appreciates the other's space and respects it.. Dial 0800 PIPE DREAM if you feel me on this.. "Number you have dialled is not available"? Snap! Keep trying....



Peace, Love and Gruyere...



17 November 2010

Stuck in the mud... dead in the water...

In the last few days I have begun to accept more and more that South Africa is a nation divided... where race used to be the greatest cleavage, class and socio-economic status has comfortably replaced it.. much to the chagrin of those who coined the term way back when we have "redefined" apartheid... So much so that if you are a poor, black African living in one of the biggest shanty towns in the world, best believe your death is meaningless. The "investigation" into your death will be conducted by a novice desk officer and nothing will come of it.. On the other {manicured} hand, if you are a touring foreigner, visiting Africa to experience the glamourisation of poverty, rest assured yours will be the "death of the year"...or at least the week...



Yet... EVERYDAY... every single darn day.. at least one murder is committed in this country... at LEAST... most of the perpetrators never make it to the dock and may kill again... the few who do find themselves in court will mostly be acquitted - usually on a technicality, sometimes because despite clear witness testimony "there just wasn't enough evidence" to convict - and often because prosecuting these poor murderers is "a waste of state resources"... after all the NPA has the murderer of big fat fish like Brett Kebble to deal with! Even in death some animals are more equal than others... *oink*



While my heart and thoughts go out to the family and friends of the deceased honeymooner, I can't help but think of her as an unwilling martyr, one whose death has in some way got people talking about the rampant violent crime within these borders in which we find ourselves... The media... the vultures that they are, have found a carcass upon which to feast once more.. {The pun, while regrettable is purely intentional}...and we - the public - can {re}start to think about crime in South Africa...



After months of living in a relative state of psychological safety after the South African Police Service (SAPS)'s head honcho released data showing that there was a marked decline in the incidence of violent crime, we were once again reminded that we are in danger... So, please go back to locking your doors {your car, your flat, your office, even the trap door from which words spew every day... lock EVERY door} because WE ARE NOT SAFE.. Were we ever? Seriously. Were we?



It took the hijacking and killing of a Brit for us to be woken up from our self-induced slumber or complacency to realise that crime is real.. it was real BEFORE the honeymooners ventured into Gugulethu and it will continue to be real for minutes, hours, days, months, years to come if we do not commit ourselves to addressing the root cause of our societal malaise.



As bad a series as it is, I can't help but think of "Ghost Whisperer"! With all the restless souls purportedly floating somewhere close to the Ozone layer hoping their killer will be brought to justice, it would explain the growing cancer eating our society up... I'll bet my love-handles PW Botha is smiling his wry crocodile smile right now, rubbing his wrinkled hands somewhere in the doldrums of an imagined hell, thinking "I DID leave a legacy!"...


In the words of my friend Kwezi {duly tagged to avoid plagiarism charges}: "Township blacks you can kill other township blacks fine, but kill a tourist and that will be bad for income and we will set up a tourist desk, and give tourists an escort every time they are going into a dangerous area. fuck that shit."



So? Does anyone else see the elephant in the room? We painted it in rainbow colours in 1994, but we were too fixated with the idea of finally being "democratic" that we neglected to chase the damn mammal out! Trouble with elephants is they need to be constantly fed... I vote we get rid of the damn thing... the stench of its dung is not good for the house in which we live... though it will linger for a few more years, at least it will eventually go... right?



10 November 2010

Do you know the one you love?

So... I've told myself that by the time I'm 30 I want to have visited at least half of the African countries... because I cannot continue to claim that I love this continent if I do not know it intimately... If I have not laughed with the Dinka at dusk, danced with the Masai at dawn or eaten amongst the pyramids like those from the House of Ptolemy .. I have told myself that until then, Africa will be the love I speak about, the love I hope to know, the one with whom I shall spend the rest of my life... but not that I truly love... not yet...



Yes, I am committed to my continent...It is here that I was born and it is here that I shall take my last breath... until then.. until the day I return to the bowels of the African earth, I will fight for it and help to make it strong... and when Africa has risen from its ashes and stands up high, I will creep into the shadows and watch my love shine... not because I do not want to be seen with it, but because I want the rest of the world to fall in love with it the way I have.. to see it's beautiful face and dare not lift a gun to tear it to shreds... to see it's evergreen glow and want to nurture it all the days of their life... What is love, but a selfish emotion if it is not shared? But, let me not contradict myself, I cannot claim to love Africa yet... I do not know it...



So, I ask you... do YOU know the one you "love"? Do you know their mind? their body? their soul? their essence? If you don't... how dare you claim to love them? How very dare you?

11 October 2010

While you lay asleep... her heart broke

Monday... yet another one... quite like the one before and the many Mondays that have preceded it.. yet this one Monday felt different. Each step she took was tentatively done, almost as if hesitating to go on. Something was bothering her, she wasn't sure what.. she wondered why the passersby stopped and stared... then she looked down... there was nothing, she was confused.. then she looked back.. and there her heart was - bare, out in the open - no longer beating, yet not bleeding. She had forgotten ever tearing it out of its burdensome cage and laying it on the ground.. then she remembered. She had put it there hoping you would see it and take it in your hands...she sighed.. had she only taken a few steps since she put it there?.....

.... Why had waiting for you to lift her heart felt like an eternity? She looked at her lonely heart laying desperately on the pavement beneath... it was broken, but it did not bleed... She thought about leaving it there, ever the optimist, then decided it was better incarcerated in her being... she told herself that it would continue to beat without you.. it must... life would go on.. Had she waited just a few more moments, had she not been so anxious, had she been patient she would have seen you moments later - risen from your slumber - running to grab her heart... but she didn't.. you didn't. Fate was having a go again.. It would not be today, but maybe on a Tuesday? Maybe on a Tuesday her love wouldn't be late, maybe he would take her heart and hold it forever.. maybe he would set it free from the confines of her being... maybe...

31 August 2010

Short note on love

I was told yesterday that love is a theory...I respectfully disagree. The notion of love might be -for the most part- theory, but love itself is practical.. it is not an imagined emotion.. it is the things you do, the things done for you... how they are done & why they are done... it is experienced in different ways & therefore cannot be quantified or qualitatively analysed by others.. yet we all know one thing: Love is.

11 August 2010

Oh when the defeated wail...

S/he (the gender is irrelevant really) said as s/he lay curled in a foetal position watching the assailant drift away: "I now know what it feels like to have the wind punched out of you... I imagined that after the pain there would be relief... but there isn't... there is an empty numbness... an unanswered question... a scream caught in the lungs and failing to get out.. I now know what it feels like to have the wind punched straight out of you...


I ask myself whether this feeling would be there if just seconds before the punch I had not been in debilitating mental ecstasy.. a state of self induced euphoria.. I was daydreaming.. my guard was down. Any other day that punch would not have made its way to my diaphragm, it would have died an early death in the grasp of my agile hand. Today it didn't. It couldn't. It - like the rest of me - was caught off guard.. I was happy or so I thought... I know now what I didn't know before I was awoken from my blissful slumber.. Happiness is but an illusion.. when the veil is lifted by the punch of reality, there is no sorrow... there is just an empty numbness... an unanswered question.. "Why me?" "


These are not my words... I wrote them, but it is not me speaking... they are the words of a defeated subconscious.. Whose? I do not know.. Whoever s/he may be s/he should be your exact opposite... so as you read this - again - think in reverse.. For whoever this may be failed to take heed of one of the most fundamental lessons.. that as you soar, remember that at some stage you must land. Do not let the illusion of your own "greatness" cloud your vision of reality. With clear vision and awareness that the higher you are the more painful your fall, you will find that "failure" is nothing more but a lesson of which you must take due cognisance if you are to move up. move forward. grow. excel.

10 August 2010

Plus ca change... plus ca reste la meme...

In the months leading up to the 2010 FIFA World Cup, while most people were celebrating the coming of the world’s biggest sporting event to African shores, some were greatly concerned that the event would possibly lead to an increase in human trafficking. One such person was the Minister for Women, Children and Persons with Disabilities, Noluthando Mayende-Sibiya who, at rally against human trafficking in Midrand in May 2010, expressed concern over this possibility, stating that women and children were most likely to be trafficked. These concerns were not ill founded. After all, South Africa – with its 72 official ports of entry, an expansive coastline and porous inland border, as well as its status as the sub-regional economic hegemon – has historically been the site of several trafficking rings.

It is unsurprising that events on the grandiose scale of the FIFA World Cup would attract criminal elements. With a high influx of travellers, it is arguably easier to get into the country undetected. The inevitable international gathering of supporters provides a potential market for every kind of business. Unfortunately for some, the businesses this attracts are often unsavoury.

Many victims, mostly women and children escaping poverty in their home countries, cross into South Africa with the hope of finding any form of lucrative employment during the tournament. Their desperation and lust for money often makes them fall prey to human traffickers seeking cheap (often free) labour. Some victims of human trafficking are prostituted; others are turned into petty criminals, while others are forced to be cheap labour or modern day slaves for the customers of the people who trafficked them. It is not only poverty and desperation that result in women and children becoming victims of trafficking rings. Other primary factors are gender discrimination, family breakdown, culture, as well as economic and political instability in the countries of origin.

African, Chinese and South East Asian nationals reportedly run most of these rings and nearly all go unnoticed. The reasons why these underground movements are often not unearthed are rooted in the very nature of human trafficking in the region and internationally. Most of the people trafficked come to South Africa with falsified travel documents and bogus promises of employment and a better life. Many are unaware that what is being done to them is illegal therefore most cases go unreported. Those who are aware are often afraid that reporting could lead to their deportation. The result is that multitudes of victims of human trafficking never come forward.

Walking in inner city Johannesburg on Friday 30 June, I set out looking for possible victims of human trafficking and/or anyone connected to the trade. I was met by a heavy wall of silence. No one was willing to come forward with their story, even though I had read in many papers prior to the World Cup and during, that Hillbrow was the hub of Gauteng’s human trafficking. I had ventured in vain. The irony of my lack of discovery lay in the fact that most of the women who are trafficked to South Africa, some of whom may have come to the country during and in the months immediately prior to the World Cup, have taken to sex work. Sex work, a highly controversial matter, remains criminalized in South Africa and is thus a profession shrouded in secrecy quite like human trafficking. There are organizations like the Sex Worker Education and Advocacy Taskforce (SWEAT) and ACTS who advocate for greater protection of sex workers and who have been calling for the decriminalization of sex work, something they believe could also reduce human trafficking. However, the government has remained steadfast in its refusal to decriminalise the trade. While the two are interrelated, it is possible to tackle human trafficking without having to decriminalise sex work, but how?

For most South Africans, the only surefire way to curb human trafficking is to adopt stricter immigration laws, making it harder for human traffickers to get their victims into South Africa. However, the reality is that South Africa has fairly stringent immigration laws, but this is crippled by an inadequacy of trained immigration personnel. In addition, a lot of trafficking occurs within the country’s borders and is not trans-national thus cannot be regulated by the tightening of immigration laws. Internally, human trafficking is yet to be criminalised and though an Anti-Human Trafficking Bill was passed in March this year there has been little progress since. Parliament needs to move swiftly and enact the legislation, because human trafficking did not come with the World Cup and it will not just disappear now that the dust of the all the fanfare has settled .. The hordes of supporters who flew in, have flown out.. but those who were trafficked could be here to stay. All is not doom and gloom though; South Africa is already a signatory of the Palermo Protocol dealing with the crime and is developing a national action plan to combat the plague, so there is some hope, if only just a little.

The question remains, how South Africa, with all its laws and regulations, still fails to protect the vulnerable. This question remains unanswered as thousands of women and children continue to be trafficked into the country annually. Though, as with everything else, the answer is indeed in plain sight: It is not enough to legislate; implementation and enforcement must follow. If the scourge of human trafficking is to be done away with – as the African saying goes – it will take the entire community to do so. The government, police, lawyers, community elders, you, me, everyone has a duty to protect defenseless women and children against this crime...

Together we can.

21 July 2010

Africa's lab rats and the "miracle" gel...

I watched in utter awe the evening news the other day as some "gynaecologist" who couldn't pronounce Human Immunodeficiency Virus praised the recent "breakthrough" in HIV/AIDS science... While busy failing to focus on the camera and occasionally pouting (I suspect that might be her "pose") she praised scientists for the vaginal gel that - after three years of testing on 889 women in rural Kwa-Zulu Natal - has been found to reduces the rate of infection by just under 50% and also reduces the possibility of getting infected by Herpes... Asked whether this could double as a contraceptive, the online-graduate said "No" (not in just one word though).. she laboriously attempted to convince the South African public tuned into SABC 3 at the time that "this is great news for Africa" and that the women who took part in the study are heroes.. *cough*.. from where I sat most of the women are actually unwitting martyrs, martyrs for a scientific cause that they probably aren't even entirely committed to... No amount of publicity can rid these women of the HIV that is now in their system.. no amount... and for what? So the lovely people of San Francisco can one day have irresponsible unprotected sex with the aid of a gel? I just vomited a little inside...

Now, don't get me wrong, I have NO problem with trying to find a cure for AIDS or doing research to help prevent HIV... I am well aware that all people afflicted by this virus (and later syndrome) suffer immensely and that a cure (or at least a preventive measure) would be wonderful - not only for Africa, but the world. My problem is that African women - mostly uneducated and thus incapable of giving the informed consent requisite even in the most basic of contracts - are being used as lab rats in these scientific studies.. We might celebrate when we hear that it has a 50% success rate and thus lessens our chances of infection, BUT what of the 50% of women who were infected because they were misled into thinking they were using the "miracle" gel? Are they just necessary collateral damage? At what point will we - as Africans - wake the fuck up and just say "No"...


For the rather biased story, see: http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/health-10691353

15 July 2010

Lend me your eyes... those who can read

So... the United Nations has revealed that Zimbabwe has the highest literacy rate in Africa (again!). While I am not surprised, I must admit that I hadn't given this much thought in recent years... Like myself, sometime during the decade-long downward spiral into economic nothingness, people just decided to forget that the country was packed with a multitude of people who can not only read and write, but would put any young ASBO from Bristol to shame with their literary prowess... "So - you might ask - What's your damn point? Why the unnecessary waffling? Get to it already".. Well, a friend asked me what significance this literacy has - if any - and why the "smart" people of Zimbabwe are not using it to pull the country up... This question.. as with most, turned into a debate (or shall I search for a synonym and call it a "deliberation") on whether there is a correlation between literary intelligence and socio-political and economic success....

.... I found myself (as often is the case) coming to the defense of Zimbabwe... I toyed with crossing the line into a barrage of ruling party propaganda on how my beloved country is the victim of a neo-colonial pseudo-paternalistic political game of squash (Yes, it's all a game in my eyes) that prevents people from reaching their full potential - even though they can read food labels.. Then I realised just how close I had actually gone to suggesting that Zimbabweans (myself 101% included) were blameless...

So the question again: What have we done with our amazing (if not outright astonishing... there I go with the synonyms again!) literacy rate? The answer is really quite simple.. We have all gone and done the chicken run... Some of us have physically left the country, others have done so metaphorically. I'm no patriot and tend to steer clear of ballot boxes... I suspect there's a phobia that I could google and use as an excuse, but I won't. As much as I want my country of descent to prosper, I - like the millions of my fellow countryfolk "outside" the country - am rather self-serving. I want to prosper more... It's selfish. I know.

So while the majority of us sit back and just watch the country decay - mostly on flat screens bought on credit - we leave the others, the ones that are cancerous parasites, to gobble up as much of the national pie as they can.... meanwhile, the rest of us are seemingly too complacent to want to fight the leeches or summon back those in the diaspora... We are ALL to blame...

Yet I like to think we can all at some stage come together and help our country prosper. We have the building blocks right before us, but simply don't know what to do with them... instead of building a bridge (or a house for that matter) we are hawking off each brick to whoever is willing to pay... If in this brief analogy the letters C*H*I*N*A (in that order) flashed in your mind's eye... then three points for you.. must be that literacy rate at work... We need to work towards utilizing what we have to benefit us - not only as individuals, but as a nation.

Let's face it, we operate in a highly politicized neo-imperialistic world. We need more than just the ability to read to be able to survive and prosper. We need SPINE. We have a lot of work to do to rebuild what was once the regional bread basket. A lot of work. We're moving slowly, but it can be done...

I have a dream - a Martin Luther King Jr kind of pragmatic idealistic dream - that one day African states' representatives will be able to walk into the negotiating room and say "If you don't meet such and such a demand we will NOT sell you our tobacco.. our tea.. our oranges.. our roses.. our chrome... our gold... our platinum... our diamonds... but never our souls". We are just not there yet... Disappointingly, we are too used to being "politically insignificant" to realise that political strength in 2010 comes from economic strength {and despite what George W Bush might have made you believe during his 8year reign... being book smart helps too!}...

Please note that I am not completely disillusioned and appreciate that with the global political "playground" as it is, it's unlikely that the intelligentsia of a "poor" Sub-Saharan African country will one day effect a paradigm shift some time after having their breakfast... but like I said: MLK Jr.

Thank you for lending me your eyes... you can have them back now.. and, if you'll excuse me... I must go read.

15 March 2010

Even the devil needs an advocate... at least in black and white...

There's a lot of noise going on in Zimbabwe and in Zimbabwean circles abroad over the promulgation of Regulations that require 51% indigenous ownership of companies... Most of the people seem to be against this... many are saying this heralds the beginning of yet another end... just as the jam was beginning to taste sweet, people are starting to lament the possibility of an end to stocked store shelves and imported goods... Maybe it's just me, but this indigenisation plan is not all bad... yes... I'm playing devil's advocate here... sue me...

To be fair over 90% of the Zim population is indigenous ... why then should they not be permitted to take ownership of companies operating within their country's borders? Yes, from a macro-economic neo-imperialistic viewpoint it makes for bad logic, but for how long must we labour under the yoke of our dependency syndrome? Honestly?

I see foreign "investors" shaking in their leather boots, getting nauseatingly uneasy in their chairs, wondering whether in two months time they will still be eating off the Zimbabwean plate as they have been doing for decades now... whether their piece of the pie will be enough to buy that little island in the Caribbean and dock some snazzy yachts to go with them... That is not all I see though... I also see money hungry and greedy indigenous businesspeople sharpening their knives... they smell the clotting blood... it is finally their time to prey on the carcass of Zimbabwe and soon they will have a huge chunk of it all to themselves...

To whose benefit have these Regulations been made really? From where I sit poor Zimbabweans continue to lose out, while their country bleeds out their wealth... The Regulations will undoubtedly curb the enthusiasm of the Chinese and the West.. but will ALL Zimbabweans benefit? The Asian Tigers are a great example of indigenisation working wonders for a country... but is this the example that my beloved country will follow? Or will it be a case of the rich getting richer...

Indigenization is not necessarily a bad thing... for Zimbabwe, it might be a case of bad timing that will see this plan falter (what with the rampant corruption and nepotism that exists), but when is the right time anyway? Shall we wait and see how this goes first before we lament yet another death of Zimbabwe? Maybe it'll work out well... maybe it won't...

21 January 2010

Can the Cameras Roll Back to Darfur?

OK, first things first, my heart bleeds for the people of Haiti, after living for centuries in abject poverty they had the terrible misfortune of falling victim to a massive earthquake (AND aftershock!) that has left hundreds of thousands dead and millions without food or shelter. An atrocity occurred there.. the world needs to do something. quick.

BUT! With all the world's attention on Haiti, people seem to have taken a break from caring about the rest of the world... shame on you CNN! I direct my disdain at CNN because not so long ago it was them that made Darfur so damn popular that even Angelina "I-want-to-save-the-world-by-adopting-as-many-cute-little-poor-kids-as-I-can" Jolie went there with her poodle of a Brad and had a few "glamour" shots taken... I hear Madonna got lost on her way to Darfur and ended up in Malawi.. too late Madge, Tomb Raider beat you - along with hundreds of German couples... but let's clap hands for you, at least you watch a "news" channel!

People continue to die every single day all across the African continent (yes, not just Darfur... it just made for a catchy title)... These people are dying from preventable disease, famine, hunger, pestilence... EVERY SINGLE DAMN DAY... Do we care? I guess we can sort of say we do... if ofcourse we sit through the images of these hungry and dying Africans which are made available to us on our flat-screens just after dinner, while we drink some blood coffee... Hmmm, maybe I should sms that number.. I hear I can donate R7.50 to help feed a kid in Port-au-Prince! Done. That is it. "We care". Oh how very dare we? We sit and watch as our continent rots... and yet we jump at the prospect of "saving" people in Haiti! I'll have my hypocrite coffee with no sugar, thanks.

Lest people think that I don't care about Haiti, allow me to reiterate: I do. I get that Haiti seriously needs help and I congratulate all those who have done their bit to aid the country (which btw is the poorest in the Western hemisphere, and after this quake could very well become the poorest worldwide)... What I don't get is people who act like they care or offer a "helping hand" just so they can smile at the camera. Can the cameras please roll back to Darfur? Or did that stop being glamorous around 2006? Yeah. I thought so. Even Somalia's off our TV screens... at least now we can see "Africans" suffering elsewhere, right? It's not all that bad...

A Tale of Two Cities (in one)

Harare, the sunshine city, the city that cannot afford to sleep… My home… Where the heart that beats within me is. Depending on where you are; rich city or poor city, the air is either clean and fresh, as crisp as a fresh mint leaf, or it is so rancid that it nearly chokes you, like the smell of a decayed carcass leaving its pungent legacy for those who did not honour it during its life ready to choke you with its sulphuric grasp. Harare. My home.

The dichotomy that exists in this city is marvellous to say the least… How else can one describe the huge canyon that exists between the haves and the have-not(hing)s? Where have all the middle-ground people gone to? It seems that in the months that have melted into years that I have been away from my beloved home so many have gained, while many more have lost… I dare not delve into the cause, I fear it might be political… and much as I love politics... this is not that kind of tale.

It’s amazing what time can do to a place… the vibrancy of Harare is slowly returning, but only for those who can afford… to the rest, Harare is unliveable, expensive and unbearably restrictive. Driving through town, the sights, the sounds, the smells change like a kaleidoscope… It is amazing how one city, small as it is, can have such diversity. You are rich. You are poor. You are nowhere in between. It is what it is.

Driving through Harare for the first time in a year, with my window rolled up and the aircon protecting me from the intolerable savannah heat outside I couldn’t help but wonder how the people on the other side of my window perceived me. The pedestrians looked into the car I was in, some with genuine admiration glistening in their hungry sullen eyes, others appeared to be seething with loathing… I pretended not to notice either, but I did. Something sunk in me, to this day I cannot tell what, but I checked if my door was locked anyway. I had to remind myself that these weren’t the streets of inner-city Johannesburg, that none of these people were carrying hammers or guns and chances are even though they were probably living from hand to mouth, the thought of hijacking or smashing and grabbing never crossed their minds. I did not lock my door. I felt safe. I was home.

(TBC...)

On Greatness...

"If you lose hope, somehow you lose the vitality that keeps life moving, you lose that courage to be, that quality that helps you go on in spite of it all. And so today I still have a dream."
The words of Martin Luther King Jr... their echo never fades, almost as if they will haunt me forever... I keep hope alive, my dream is one of greatness... everyday, I light a candle and put it at my window so I can light the way for whatever greatness is to come... I do not want it to feel unwelcome, I do not want it to think I am not home... I want it to knock on my door, late at night as I sleep and ask me if it can come in... I wait each day as my candle burns at my window sill... for I have decided: when greatness comes, I will let it in...

Growing up, we are constantly told that “pride comes before a fall”… hardly encouraging words given that it somehow equates all our efforts at greatness to wasted breath. We find ourselves wondering whether our life really has a purpose if we cannot celebrate our successes, rung by rung as we climb up the ladder that is life. I agree that pride comes before a fall, but that doesn’t mean the fall will ever come.. it doesn't mean I WILL fall if I am proud of what I have achieved… Let’s not settle for mediocrity simply because we fear that if we do too much, strive too hard, we may just succeed and, the flying spaghetti monster forbid, that could very well mean we might just be proud… hence we might just fall… We cannot let that stop us; each of us is destined for some greatness…
From coal emerges diamonds… from the bowels of the oyster comes the pearl… so let not greatness be your fear… light that candle and grow… grow exponentially...