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
21 July 2010
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.
.... 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...
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...
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...)
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...
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...
05 November 2009
This is my kind of Africa....
Walking to work this morning, I took a deep breath of fresh air laced with the soothing smell of the flowers whose beauty has been brought to life by the early rains... with solid steps towards my destination I felt an overwhelming feeling of love and pride... I was at that very moment a 21st century woman living in her kind of Africa... the Africa they don't seem to care much about on the supper time news... I was greeted by cheery faces and the occasional "dumela" ... the sun was shyly peering through the clouds, scared to reveal itself to the world beneath, yet my heart was filled with its warmth... these are my people... this is my land... This is My Africa...
Africa.... Oh Africa... so rich, so beautiful, so warm, so welcoming... few people know or appreciate just how truly magnificent you are.. your name is mentioned and those who think they care will take a deep sigh and lament your fate; those who only want to use and abuse you and leave you dying by the wayside find themselves with a wily snarl on their faces... you are their lamb, ready for the slaughter.. they will drive you there and watch as you take your last breath... but that is not the Africa I see... that is not the Africa that flows in my veins...
....My Africa is teeming with life... as vibrant as the village crier's drum at sunset and the crow of the cocks at dawn.. My Africa never rests... it toils even as the world sleeps... In its suffering it sees nothing but hope... It is... has been... and shall forever be at the core of my being...
My Africa never gives up... after years of drought and strife my Africa is brought to life by the early rains... each flower proudly displaying itself for all the world to see.. I take it all in each day as I walk on the soil of my ancestors.. I breathe in deeply... the clean fresh air..
My Africa. My Pride. My Love.
Africa.... Oh Africa... so rich, so beautiful, so warm, so welcoming... few people know or appreciate just how truly magnificent you are.. your name is mentioned and those who think they care will take a deep sigh and lament your fate; those who only want to use and abuse you and leave you dying by the wayside find themselves with a wily snarl on their faces... you are their lamb, ready for the slaughter.. they will drive you there and watch as you take your last breath... but that is not the Africa I see... that is not the Africa that flows in my veins...
....My Africa is teeming with life... as vibrant as the village crier's drum at sunset and the crow of the cocks at dawn.. My Africa never rests... it toils even as the world sleeps... In its suffering it sees nothing but hope... It is... has been... and shall forever be at the core of my being...
My Africa never gives up... after years of drought and strife my Africa is brought to life by the early rains... each flower proudly displaying itself for all the world to see.. I take it all in each day as I walk on the soil of my ancestors.. I breathe in deeply... the clean fresh air..
My Africa. My Pride. My Love.
27 October 2009
Why burn your bra... when you can be all woman... frills and all... (another note on love or something like it)
I've said this before, and I'll say it again... I'm a feminist, but I'll still wear my bra, occasionally wear make-up, shave what I feel needs shaving, wear a dress when I want to... I celebrate my feminity and don't get women who think appearing androgynous is "hip".. I am a woman and I love it! I most definitely do NOT see why I must masculate (sic) myself to show that I'm a feminist....
Now that that's out of the way... let me rant... from my girl-in-a-frilly-dress feminist stance..
I am tired of hearing women pine about how inadequate they are.. or how they need a man to make them "whole".. Yes, Beyonce and Rihanna, I'm talking to you! I'm all for relationships, long walks off short bridges and watching large amorphous gases from another universe shine brightly over my head at dusk.. I really am... In fact I am more than a closet romantic. My flat smells of lavender and camomile and at one point I genuinely thought Prince Charmings exist... hmmm... I actually still do! I've watched The Notebook five times and have cried EVERY SINGLE TIME.. that said, my self-worth is not and cannot ever be "completed" by any one - male, female, goat or cow... I don't believe in being completed by anything or anyone, I believe in complementarity. I believe that people do not make us better, but that we are the only ones responsible for our own betterment.. So, no I will not be shaking my not so ample booty and asking some boy to put a ring on it 'cause he likes it... what's a piece of worthless jewellery anyway if the person who bestows it loves me not... wholly, truly and completely?
I fear that most of us are not honest with ourselves... those of us who claim it (I suppose I should include myself here) often find ourselves not pursuing our own goals, but those of a society that has never really cared much for our enhancement... So, here's to firmly putting your feet on the ground, mastering your destiny and not making excuses. If Prince Charming happens to stop in his modern chariot, then good for him, but he better know the wonders of a push-up bra wearing empowered 21st century woman...
It's 2009... I cook, I clean, I like the smell of roses, I know how to tie a tie... I also wake up early to go to work, make my opinion heard in meetings full of testosterone and chauvinistic male egos, do what needs doing and do it pretty darn well... I'm also not afraid to say it. Society placed a wall in front of me, I stood back and wondered whether to try go round it, dig a hole and go under it, go back from whence I came... or bulldoze my way through society's firm veil... 23years on, I look back at the dilapidated wall behind me... achievement it is, but with it I have lost my one key defence... I can no longer say "but I am a woman"... If the box needs lifting, let it be lifted... If the race needs winning... on your marks... get set....
07 October 2009
Watching the world go by
The years melt away...as seconds become minutes, minutes become hours.. that become days, weeks, months... years.. And while so much seems to be changing, so much more remains the same. I am the girl I was years ago.. scared, vulnerable.. yet strong and determined.. constantly trying to better myself, to shed my burdensome skin of negativity and yet realising that the more I do it the more I lose myself.. Constantly asking myself, what I will leave when I'm done here.. shall my little steps one day change the world? My thoughts, they take me away.. to a place that may never exist.. they choke me and at the same time give me life...
Today... like yesterday... and the day before.. I continue to search for my purpose, my being, my soul, my dreams.. these things... inextricably linked, intertwined and forever keeping me away from the edge.. away from the abyss that one day will engulf me, eat me whole and never spit me out...
In my quest I have learnt to love, to hate, to cry, to laugh, to embrace and to strangle... all this I have learnt from the world from which I come and to which I shall go. I look at the world in awe as it refuses to change even as the years go by... adamant, stubborn... like myself as I spread my hands out once more as if to fly... I laugh. I cry. I want so much to fly and yet I know it can never be so...not today.. not tomorrow.. but maybe in the next life I will watch the world go by perched upon a tree... until then, the years melt away...
Today... like yesterday... and the day before.. I continue to search for my purpose, my being, my soul, my dreams.. these things... inextricably linked, intertwined and forever keeping me away from the edge.. away from the abyss that one day will engulf me, eat me whole and never spit me out...
In my quest I have learnt to love, to hate, to cry, to laugh, to embrace and to strangle... all this I have learnt from the world from which I come and to which I shall go. I look at the world in awe as it refuses to change even as the years go by... adamant, stubborn... like myself as I spread my hands out once more as if to fly... I laugh. I cry. I want so much to fly and yet I know it can never be so...not today.. not tomorrow.. but maybe in the next life I will watch the world go by perched upon a tree... until then, the years melt away...
Love... or something like it...
Many lessons I've learned in this life of mine, yet none has quite managed to make me understand or truly know love... I know that I love, I know that I am loved... have loved... will love... but my conceptualization of love seems to differ from many people around me.. I have heard the 3words "I love you" said to a new paramour only weeks into the relationship like the premature ejaculate of an over-eager man... bile rose in my throat as I thought of the many lies that will follow this first one... I have heard them used after a "but" to excuse intentional transgressions.. I have heard them said between people who could possibly know no love... the words echo in my head like a broken record of a bad electro house song... I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you.. The more I hear them uttered, the more I feel they have no real meaning.. a cliche? Perhaps.
For me love is not just a feeling, love is action... Love is not an impromptu champagne picnic atop the Eiffel Tower on a warm spring night... it could be... but it's not... Love is found in the little things, in the little acts of selflessness, in devotion, in faith, forgiveness, in pain... love is hard work.. it is the patience you should have as you wait to reap the benefits of your commitment knowing that they may never come... it is giving more of yourself even when you feel there's nothing left to give. . . and yes, love can be a candlelit dinner with some prime cabernet sauvignon... but that is not the be-all and end-all of it.. the words of many a drunken clergyman come to mind: "through sickness and health".. oh indeed. for me, THAT is love. . . and because of that I am not sure I have yet loved wholly, truly and completely... I feel it coming.. a dark cloud on the horizon promising rain that will soak the earth and bring her to life... but when it arrives, whatever the love; platonic, erotic, agape, ludus, storge, pragmatic, manic, obsessive... I'll take mine with a pinch of salt, a lemon and tequila...
For me love is not just a feeling, love is action... Love is not an impromptu champagne picnic atop the Eiffel Tower on a warm spring night... it could be... but it's not... Love is found in the little things, in the little acts of selflessness, in devotion, in faith, forgiveness, in pain... love is hard work.. it is the patience you should have as you wait to reap the benefits of your commitment knowing that they may never come... it is giving more of yourself even when you feel there's nothing left to give. . . and yes, love can be a candlelit dinner with some prime cabernet sauvignon... but that is not the be-all and end-all of it.. the words of many a drunken clergyman come to mind: "through sickness and health".. oh indeed. for me, THAT is love. . . and because of that I am not sure I have yet loved wholly, truly and completely... I feel it coming.. a dark cloud on the horizon promising rain that will soak the earth and bring her to life... but when it arrives, whatever the love; platonic, erotic, agape, ludus, storge, pragmatic, manic, obsessive... I'll take mine with a pinch of salt, a lemon and tequila...
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