I miss the conversations I never got to have with my father. I miss his voice that I don’t remember. I miss the love I was too young to reciprocate.
In between life and all the BS… I forgot I was someone’s dream.
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Motives and thoughts…

Thursday's Space

It is too early in the year for the type of ignorance being peddled about Africa by some church affiliated folk in the name of missionary work. In this era of Google and social media, why do people insist on clinging to that false image of Africa? You know, the country ravaged by disease, poverty and war where people live in anything but buildings? In a time when information is literally at people’s fingertips, is it that difficult for one to educate themselves about African countries? Sure, you don’t have to know everything about all 54 of them but knowing that Africa is NOT a country is a solid first step. It’s not a hard concept to grasp guys.

I came across an article titled “First Presbyterian Church recreates rural African town.” The church, which is in Gainsville, Georgia, was scheduled to have a “Life in an…

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Imvelaphi yami

Izibongo Nezithakazelo

Abantu bakwa Nzama kusengabantu bakwa Wosiyane, Imvelaphi yabo ikwa Ngcoba bahlobene no Dube, Nyusa nama Qadi. uNgcobo no Mkheshane bazalwa ngu Vumezitha wakwa Nyuswa bahlobene futhi no Shangase.
Abantu bakwa NZAMA Wosiyane baningi eMvoti.
Ake selamanise amakhosi akwa Wosiyane ngoba isibongo nesibongo umlando waso ulandeleka ngamakhosi aso.
Nzama, Manjanja, Khumalo (hhayi Mntungwa), Mvakela, Mashiza, Ngombane, Mvakwendlu, Tshani (hhayi wama Ngwane)
Kukhona nabanye bakwa Wosiyane abazibiza ngo Chamane.

Izithakazeli zakwa Nzama:

Wosiyane, Gcugcwa, Mashiza, Dingila, Mkhandi wensimbi,
Nina enidume ngokugcagca insimbi,
Amanye amakhosi edume ngesithembu,
Nina enawela ngelibanzi,
Kwasala izindondo zacoshwa abafokazane,
Nina baka mfazi kashaywa ngemvubu,
Kodwa ushaywa ngombhombolo wsidwaba,
Zukula kano Mbhoco,
Gcugcwa ka Ncameni,
Nina base Ntendeni.

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At times I wanna treat you like an infant.
That knows not how to walk, talk or even rationalize things helpless like an ant.
I wana hug, kiss and embrace you.
Transfer my feelings into a physical.
Let’s call it an “I love you” metaphor.
I wana have u listen to how my heart beats in your presence, have u be loyal to just me.
Because this love is of essence.

So no conversation tonight…
No being rational.
No walking.
Let me.
Have YOU be

My infant

Let me take care of you.

I remember my first encounter with her. She caught and had my undivided attention. She deserved it and rightfully so. The way my eyes lingered on her face, her gorgeous face. She’s gorgeous, beauty personified. But wait, I’m beauty personified too. I’m willing to share the title but not until my logical being resonates with my emotional being as to why.

And so, in the heat of the moment, we both stare at each other. Her gaze never leaving my face, mine on hers…optional, to a sane period at least. I was taught that it is rude to stare afterall. I take my eyes off of hers to scour my surroundings, meh… not nearly as interesting as this woman. This woman without a name, just a face and a gaze never leaving my face and a smirk on hers. Her eyes. Beautiful but not as striking as mine.

She wears lipstick and a blush, her hair is shiny and jet black. Has her eyebrows done in such a way that has you fooled into thinking one is arched but it really isn’t. I can’t make out if she is wearing eye shadow but she most certainly has an eye liner on.

As I started to turn the page I wondered why on earth would I compare myself to a model. In contrast, I’m on the extreme end of what she looks like. Bushy eye brows, big brown eyes with accompanying bags, covered with a beauty spot or two, my personal narratives to my face. One that I did not choose but emerged when DNA assumed position.

She? Didn’t choose her looks either but someone chose her for hers. Her face bare, something that some religions consider is a husband’s business of their wives. For the rest of us to see. Admire. Compare. Compare. Whoever chose her for her looks did so to have to have the rest of us compare ourselves to her. To feel bound in the confines of inferiority. Basically she, on projection is meant to reflect the prototype of my species – females. Wo(mb) men.

Putting the magazine down, I made a vow to myself that my identity and the way I represent myself will not be determined by a media agent’s agenda. She is gorgeous, beauty personified. But wait, I’m beauty personified too.

My locks may be a dread to others, my eyes too big for some, my beauty not up to par to a handful, my face too bare in the eyes of several. My lips may look unevenly coloured to a selected, my skin rough to a certain. Too much of an unlady-like physical  to a particular and too bushy of eyebrows to a specific.

Just as I judged miss lady model on the magazine, I embrace it done unto me. Because I am real not perfect, through  knowing my self-worth I realise what purpose I hold. I comprehend respecting self to realise the God within me. Refusing to yield to a conformist society is how I identify myself, the way I represent self and the way I’ve chosen to stay self –  fist clenched and sheilded – in the palm of my hand.

My Experience with IkamvaYouth Oraganisation, Umlazi AA Section

Some people get very annoyed when you show up to their door step unannounced, one doesn’t need a profound sense of logic to understand why. However, knowing this, my partner, Cassandra Zungu and myself brought ourselves to the non-profit organisation – IkamvaYouth unannounced and to our relief, we were welcomed with open arms.

It was a great feel to be accepted and even more so when the tutors and learners spared a few minutes of their time to chat to us.  Allowing us to document them. I was pleased to find out how enthusiastic about the future, both learners and tutors were.

This positive aspect reminded me that determination comes from within and ultimately, as the organisation’s name says: The future is our hands.

I enjoyed my role as a journalist and big sister with the learners, it took me back 3 years ago, to when I was in the same position as they were, concerned about my future, career and most importantly the symbols my name would have next to it on the paper… Good ol’ days.

The obstacles were funding our journey into Umlazi, we had to scrap a budget that in the long run prevailed. I found it a bit annoying sometimes to be working in pairs, mainly because I like my space and in turn, I’d be moody for no reason and vice versa.

We found editing our documentary a bit challenging, we had under estimated the hard work we were to put into the compilation of our video. In the end, I couldn’t have chosen a better person to work with and that fact together with the exceptional mark we will be getting for our assignment are the rewards of having gone through all this trouble.

A change of attitude is something I’d have changed in the future.

I enjoyed working on this assignment, it was great hearing what others had to say, I think what stood out the most for me was when students from other institutions other than UKZN not only had a say but they were actually feeling the frustrations and understood the pressure the students of UKZN found themselves under.

While gathering posts on Facebook for crowd sourcing, I wasn’t taken seriously at first. My Facebook friends took it upon themselves to let me know how “cute” I was for assuming the position of a journalist already. At first it was frustrating that my question wasn’t taken seriously but after a while I allowed myself the space to understand that the comments they made came from a good place and more than anything there was a sense of pride among them for that.

In writing my article, I went as far as getting the newsletter that was circulated among all the students and members of staff at UKZN. I found it interesting that university gave the 560 students without accommodation money to travel back home. I feel that was not really necessary but I believe that this was their way of “softening” the students as well as their parents to avoid any serious legal implications filed against them. The University of KwaZulu-Natal is among the most credible and prominent universities in the country and so for their students losing accommodation and being stranded on the streets with nowhere else to go did not look good on their behalf. And it is a matter no parent, in my opinion, would take lightly.

I will admit, I could’ve went out even more to finding comment from the affected students and at least get one parents comment to balance my story out. I feel like I did not do justice to my article but this is a learning curve and I know better for next time.