Thru depression into gratitude: my journey

​(This entry was written a few days ago but due to certain challenges beyond my control, I could only post it late)

Fighting depression is difficult. Many a time you look to ppl who you love n who love you back to reach out to but they are not available. The devastation can be lethal n it often is. Depression isn’t really timed to come up when it is convenient. It just hits you and one minute you were this happy person looking forward to doing the next thing n the very next second you’re this weepy, teary person who can’t find anything worth holding on to. 

It is a mental battle, whose gravity I’m beginning to appreciate. Sometimes there are triggers so if you are aware of them, you steer clear but often times, it’s subconscious…. your mind is battling issues, blowing them out of proportion or telling you that you can’t resolve whatever issues, or convincing you that you are indeed alone, unwanted, unloved, worthless etc. You might have the most supportive of family/ friends/ partner/ colleagues but all those pale into the shadows of this strong mental battle that rages silently in your head. We live in this world where we got lots of struggles and are pressure to deliver, to keep time, to meet deadlines etc, and we often push these ahead of people. We often forget that we’re in this hustle for others (be it to provide certain things- a financially stable life for family; products and services for bosses; salaries for employees; clean and safe home for family; gifts for friends etc). In our bid to meet these targets n deadlines, we push away n ignore the very ppl we are doing this for.

I was moved to write this after reading Max Soutter ‘s Facebook post (When you’re late for a meeting and your son is finishing his “I love you, dad, drawing for you n it’s important to him that he gives it to you) Many a time, we’re caught in these scenarios- two equally important things need our attention. One of these things is important to you (the meeting, in this case) and the other is important to someone else (the drawing, in this case.) When was the last time you made someone who’s important to you KNOW and FEEL that they are important to you? When did you last pay attention to those who are important to you? Do you even know who is important to you? How do you show/ tell them?

It is often difficult for someone to reach out and tell you that they wd want your attention. Trust me, the feeling of guilt is huge. They already know that you have many demands on your time and attention as it is. Picture this- you have a deadline that’s already running late and you’re working from home. You’ve got kids and your spouse who also require your attention. You also have family n friends who know that you’ve clocked off n therefore assume that it is time to catch up etc. This deadline is a  make or break for the company/organisation and must be met. (I’m already feeling pressured by this scenario I’m creating as it is) Now, if your partner or relative wd want just a few minutes to offload/vent or to sound out something/seek your confirmation on something, they already know how under pressure they are (or they might not) 

How you handle their reaching out to you for your attention becomes critical. Most of us tend to speak from a position of pressure- irritated/angry. The tone and/ choice of words often speaks more to your spouse than what you’re actually saying. Of course, they shd know better than to try n reach out to you than when you’re under such pressure. BUT that doesn’t make snapping or ignoring them the right way of handling the situation. Maybe they have been struggling for weeks now to tell you that they are being retrenched and today was the day they finally gathered the courage to tell you because tomorrow you’d hv gone on to make that booking to some holiday that you’ll no longer be able to afford. Maybe today was the day they wanted to tell you that they have been struggling to tell you that they were diagnosed with some terminal illness three months back n time is running out on their life. Maybe today wd be the day they finally gathered the courage to tell you that your parent/sibling has been keeping away from you some devastating news. Maybe just maybe today wd be the day they WD open up about how they think that they are useless/worthless/problematic and it’s better off they die.

I don’t know what today cd mean for them or for you. But for me, as finally the words n encouragement I’ve been receiving from my dear friend n family behind to sink in, today means I take stock of what’s important in my life. I take stock of who’s important to me. I am important to me. I need me at my best before i can be of any hello to anyone else. Only when I’m in a better mental space can i make sure that I can love my family and friends and reach out to them, listen to them when they want my time and attention. After today, I can reaffirm them of my love for them. I am deliberately setting aside time to focus on PPL because I realise that it is ppl who have helped me stay sane,  who have held my hand when i had given up, who carried me when i didn’t see the need to walk on, who listened when I was overwhelmed by stress, grief and pain, it is ppl who validated me when I felt worthless, unloved and unwanted. It is ppl who have reminded me that being loved isn’t only about the feel good time but it is about the willingness to get into the mud of despair, hurt, pain, grief etc and do what it takes to bring me out. It is ppl who have prayed for me, shared scripture with me, encouraged me with songs, words and offered their ears n shoulders. 

It is a difficult getting out of bed on some days. It has been difficult to eat even. It had been much easier to sleep and cry and complain n feel rejected, unwanted and unloved. It has been much easier to listen to the voice in my head telling me that I’m worthless. It has been much easier to pretend to hear what my friends n family have been saying about loving me, appreciating me, than it has to silence n drown that voice that speaks of darkness n worthlessness. 

I am a fighter and have this sunny disposition but there are demons I battle every once in a while. They are dark and powerful and I don’t take them for granted cz they can easily overpower me. I’m learning to reach out to friends n family when they come but it’s not easy. (I don’t want to hear the  disappointmentt n shock at how someone like me can be so despairing of life. I don’t want to hear the  judgement in those holy ones who see me as being blasphemous when I question my faith or God. I don’t want to take precious time away from my family n friends cz they have more than enough on their plate already- I don’t wanna be selfish. I fear that what I’m falling to cope with is going to be trivialised and ridiculed….. the reasons are many) 

Today, I am grateful for my very life. It might not be where I want it to be but its definitely not that bad. I might not be the person I thought I’d be by now, but I’ve surely come from far from where I started. I might not have what I wanted to have had by now but I surely have learnt a lot of lessons, achieved more than I can count or be grateful for, I have a whole lot more storms I’ve survived, there are more scars that show me that I’ve overcome that I’m stronger today than I was yesterday. I can accept this self comfort knowing that the clouds are blowing away and tomorrow I look forward to smiling for a longer time and crying for a lesser time. I might even dance but above all, I’m actually looking forward to a tomorrow! 

(The album Open Heaven by Hillsong is on repeat and has helped me to smile. Kari Jobe’s Holy Spirit helped me to recenter myself when the tears would not stop. Somehow, my friends, family n prayer circle have kept watering my faith thru this difficult time. I’m grateful)

Reblogged: #ZimShutDown: Desperate government attacks citizens

This blog post was first published on ZimOnline Radio. To read, please follow the link

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My Vows My Responsibility

Here is my lawyer….Tarie, you make way too much sense but then again common sense is not common, even among our esteemed judiciary folk. 😉

tarytells

The issue of adultery damages usually opens up unruly debates which are never conclusive. Married women in most instances pull out daggers protecting their marriages while men are not amused by such stances when their wives sue the ‘other woman’. What always baffles me is that when a man who has been adamant that a woman should not sue a girlfriend of their husband is asked if he should sue for adultery damages from a man who has an affair with his wife they are incensed.
Adultery is when two people have an intimate relationship and one or both of them are married to someone else at that time. Adultery damages are awarded to compensate the injured party. At law they are compensated for two things: Contumelia and lack of consortium. Contumelia is about hurt, pain and indignity that is as a result of the adultery whilst consortium refers to…

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Battles between grammar and creation

I’m seated on my bed (do I say that I’m seated IN my bed?) a day after my 14th 20th birthday 😉 and I’m thinking… Why did God create full grown adults? I mean,  He could have created babies and seen them grow and all that but (or do I say ‘hey’?) The Almighty One chose Adam and Eve to be full grown adults.  At least that’s the impression most of us have. He could also have just created old people.

Emma

#RatedLoose How many wives are having sex for their husbands? How many men don’t even know that their wives are off sex/ not feeling it/ doing it for the marriage’s sake?
This is one heck of a thought-provoking blog. Please read it and share it and discuss it. Tag me @shhhtendo (T) R Tendo Tapiwa (Fb), let’s discuss.

The sex is still as frequent although I dont ever feel like it or enjoy it.

Watched a movie called “The Colour Purple” the other day. The scene that still haunts me is the one in which Netty speaks to Shug, who is her husbands mistress really, about how sex is a non-event for her. Shug is shocked because when she sleeps with the same man its heaven but Netty speaks of it like dude is “going to the toilet on her”. Its haunting me so much because I know I am Netty too only I learnt how to pretend because mama said thats what good wives do. They put their man first and they never let their true feelings show”

Life lessons from a missed deadline

So I missed a writing contest deadline by 30mins and it has left me feeling meh. All the same, I am gonna put the story out here just so I know I did it. I will self-comfort and look at it as if I was one of those who did not win the contest. After all, only one person was gonna win it anyway and there were 720 people who had indicated their intentions to enter this 24 hour writing contest. I think my take home here is this:

“Better to have run and finished the race than to have started it and given up along the way on realising that winning was out of reach.”

Here is the story and I would appreciate your feedback:

PS: the words in bold are the words we had to use to start and end the story and they came from A wonderful Zimbabwean writer, Tendai Huchu. Do look him up and read his work. I enjoyed The Hairdresser of Harare and am looking forward to reading his other works.

PPS: the story has no title….and the images are meant to make the story blog-friendly….

_________________________________________________________________________________________

They laid the train tracks back to front and this caused a great deal of confusion – you’d think you were on the train to New York and arrived in Kinshasa, or to Shanghai and found yourself lost in Istanbul. Yet he knew that he had to refrain from asking any questions. He bowed his head and carried on digging and shoving as much of the mud out of the tunnel as quickly as possible. He was a nobody, nameless, identity-less and it would do him no good to draw any attention to himself by asking questions.

(image from huffpost.com)

Sweat ran down his arms, back and face as if he had had a bucket of water poured over him. He kept working- one shovelful of dirt over the other. He worked silently and barely stopped to rest as the other labourers did from time to time. He could not afford to have anyone look at him or engage him in any conversation. He kept to himself during breaks and walked to the compound on his own. His days were numbered and he did not want anyone to be able to remember him.

whilst others enjoyed the breaks, he kept to himself
(image from hotpaknews.com)

He wore dark clothes that did not stand out. He always had on a hat right down to his dark eyes. He never laughed at any of the jokes that were shared- he could not afford to have anyone recall his neither his voice nor his laugh. His life was one of silence. He was a silent figure, acquaintanced with the darkness.

his company was the darkness
(image from http://www.wattpad.com)

He had come to Durban a few weeks earlier on a personal mission. He knew no one and did not want to be known. The site was presently in turmoil as people rushed back and forth between the foreman and the supervisor. The railway line was already running a few months behind schedule and this latest incident would cost the whole project a few more months as well as half a million more Rand to correct.

(image from http://www.spyghana.com)

The weather was partly to blame. It had been raining on and off for two months now and no one could predict the weather accurately anymore. The rains had come later than usual. Many of the local young who could have been employed by the project had set out in search of greener pastures. However, in all fairness, the supervisor, Greit du Pleissis, was the major reason for the delay as well as the ever-ballooning budget. He had no idea what he was doing half the time and was constantly seeking approval from head office and this caused unnecessary delays.

The rains pounded down ferociously
(image from http://www.sowetanlive.co.za)

Today, the entire Durban population had come to the site and it was chaotic. So much confusion as everybody suddenly wanted to find out how the project was progressing. The MEC for Health was in town and would make a stop at the site. The labourers were in panic and the supervisor was steadily drinking himself into a state. Kids were thrilled to be out in the mud and were making a nuisance of themselves.

there was mud all over (image courtesy of http://www.dailymail.co.uk)

Brightly coloured clothes were soon mud stained and mothers were screaming in frustration from the old platform with the makeshift roof. The fathers walked around the site as if they knew what the hell was going on. One man had got his hand severed by one of the machines he had tried to operate and the ambulance was nowhere in sight. He was in shock and losing a lot of blood. Someone was screaming for some whisky. A child had fallen into one of the ditches and the police were struggling to restrain the excitable crowd.

Through all this madness, he kept his head bowed down and kept shovelling, he had a mission to accomplish. It began to rain earnestly again. Even in the rain, he could feel his own sweat washing his body. One more shovelful of mud and he was ready to stop. It was time.

man digging a hole in the ground with shovel and spade

He stepped out of the ditch, went to a corner and lit a cigarette but he did not smoke it. He watched the mayhem and looked at his watch. In a few minutes, he went to clock out but he did not leave the site. He went across the old platform and joined the Durbanites in waiting for the big boss lady. Any minute now, she would arrive ushered by a host of police patrol cars and fawning government officials.

he held the smoke in his hand
(image from http://www.shutterstock.com)

Even headquarters had sent a welcoming party. If only they knew. From nowhere, a blast of lightning struck through the encroaching darkness scaring half the women and children at the platform. It was ominously silent after its wake and this silence greeted the MEC as she stepped out of her government vehicle and onto the new platform.
“Amandla”
“Ngawetu”               

(amandla.tumblr.com)

She knew where her bread was buttered, alright but she did not know that sensible shoes were necessary if she was to tour a railway laying site. As she stepped to the podium that looked awkwardly out of place with its ribbons and laces, she slipped. A collective gasp came from the waiting crowd. She recovered quickly and made it to the podium. She was opening her mouth when it happened.

(image from pixshark.com)

The entire platform began to move. Confusion animated her face and she stood for a second staring at the podium. No one understood what was happening despite watching it unfold. The platform literally sank out of sight right in front of their eyes, along with the MEC and the officials who were with her leaving just the tracks. A bolt of lightning struck again, as if on cue and ripped the roof off the old platform and the heavens bursts their flood gates.

image from (www.maniacworld.com)

One bolt of lightning followed the sunken platform and smoke came out like a pleasing sacrifice to the gods. The newly formed hole soon filled up with dirty, flowing water. No one could move. Even if they wanted to, they could not because the rain dripping from the rusty gutters made a curtain between the platform and the tracks.
(© R Tendo Tapiwa, 2015)

An even closer look at miracle of belly fat melting

So, the UFIC, headed by prophet Emmanuel Makandiwa, has released a video which I suspect to be a response to the articles and comments on yet another video that “exposed” a fake miracle he performed a while back- it must have been during an Easter conference. I take the liberty to assume that I am one of the people targeted by the new video as I wrote my own article addressing today’s miracle loving Christians. (I do indulge in my own nice dreams. LOL)

Dreaming of being addressed by papa. LOL #zvirotoZviroto

Anyway, having watched several videos; the miracle exposing one, the response from the lady in red…and no, it is not the one who is addressed by the beautiful song.. as well as others that have been shared all over, I have several issues that i noticed.
1. 17 June is too late to do a response video on a miracle yekuEaster..weirdly, online media are placing these miracles, for they are many, to have taken place in early February…which is the real date here?- the one the ‘healed’ lady says (Easter?) or the ones the media registered? (February/ January 2013? There is even a July 2014!) seems this miracle is like manna, it is too regular an occurrence.

manna was plenty…belly fat loss is plenty plus

2. The husband is not convincing as a man who once had issues in his marriage cz of this “offending” chidumbu. The lady mentions at the beginning of her 17 June 2015 testimonial, that her name is Beatrice Muza, yet on the Youtube link of the ‘miracle’ she ‘received’ her “husband” Joseph Muza claims her to be Beatrice Mhike. Could this be a case of using married name or the name from her father? (Mhike/Muza) or someone forgot to check up on the minute details that some of us can grab a hold of? Anyway, the lady mentioned that she has a history of cervical cancer…can she produce the medical reports and can her oncologist confirm this? Jesus asked people to show themselves to the priests wani.

Ok, testimonial: check
Now to get a medical verification

3. This lady has gone back to putting on some of the dresses that she “couldn’t put on” Hoo, ko why is it that on the first video, her bust and under-arm were still with the “weight”? So these dresses were only tight on her tummy area? hmmm. Why is she wearing such lose fitting clothes in the testimonial video? It just raises my eyebrows and brings a sound from my throat.

yeah, right!

4. That husband ought to have kept quiet. Why start by going at the ppl like me, “who are writing negative things about the” prophet (manje ini hangu am on about the miracle kkkk) anyway, What was his reason for doing the video? His happiness at the lost belly or the “attacks” on the prophet? hmmm Anyway, so because I commented questioning the miracle, I am now on the “other side” of the “kingdom” he belongs to? I am tempted to give an emphatic YES! I doubt I come from the same kingdom as that guy. I am not even sure what kingdom he lives in, so no, I will not want to claim that we mean or represent the same kingdom. LOL
5. This guy claims to have commented on Nehanda TV…I am yet to see his comment. I cd have missed his real name on the list of commentators, can someone help me read it? If he used a pseudonym, why not stand out tall and proud?

In the video of her miracle, I have several points I marked-
a) Who is the lady at 1.57?
b)  What is happening at 6.27-6.34?
c) What is that sound at 6.35, 36, 37?
d) Why does the prophet rush to ask “How do you fake this” in this original video at around 8.33? Who had said anything about fake or genuineness?
e) At 9.43 a guy comes thru and mentions something to the effect that the lady lost 12kilos!! Wow, yet her arms are not changed. All that weight was on her stomach?? Incredible!
f). At 09.53 there are two ladies in the overflow. One is ecstatic at her miracle and the other one is just meh about it. Interesting (just stuff I am observing on the video)
g) At 10.08 there is that sound again…can someone tell me what it is?
h) That lady at 10.27 is she the same one at 1.57 now in the overflow? Thought she had been in the main auditorium

Back to the Nehanda TV post

6) One comment from there just about sums up some of the comments shared on the “fake video expose” :Let me copy it as is: Ruth Dhafu Dhundu • 6 days ago
Dai mukadzi wake akafuta zvaakaita here iye achiita minana yakadai

prophetess and ‘papa’ prophet Makandiwa

Parting shot: Beatrice and everyone else behind this response, here is my two cents:

It appears, to me at least, kuti you want to invite people to your church, all good and dandy. I am one unbeliever of this miracle and nothing short of medical reports of the said “changed” condition will convince me. I am like the believers at Berea of Acts 17.10-15- I go back home and read the Bible and question what I have heard. I just don’t swallow it all as it comes to my eyes and ears. Ehe, I am a doubting Thomas, now, let me touch those wounds so I believe! don’t invite me to your church because I am not seeking a church, I am seeking Jesus. I am not seeking miracles but I am seeking to have a healthy relationship with God. Zvekuita mwana wapapa izvi, ini hangu handidi. (I do not fancy being a daughter of papa.)

What or who is the church?

#NdiMaMoyoAdaro

(apologies for not citing the sources of the images. I do not have copyright to any of these images.)

Of Today’s Christians: Is it transformation by Renewal or Removal of minds?

I recently came across a clip of a miracle performed by one ‘man of God’, Emmanuel Makandiwa, and the discussion around it had me check out the video and I came up with several questions of my own. I hope you can help me answer them.

So, this woman has “weight” taken off her stomach area yet the one around her arms was left intact? It is still visible as she is waving away, presumably going back to her seat. Wait a minute, what about that “weight” above her waistline, the one ABOVE the “tight” middle part of her dress- why was that left there? Why does the dress remains tight around her bosom? In addition, her neck still has that “ring”? I am really questioning this “miracle” here, I am and I need clarity. Jesus told several people to go and get checked by others who had knowledge of verifying the new state of those who had received His miracles- “Go and show yourself to the priest” He told some guy in the Bible:

“And Jesus saith unto him, See thou tell no man; but go thy way, shew thyself to the priest, and offer the gift that Moses commanded, for a testimony unto them”

Ini hangu, I am one person who wants to understand this “new state” of this woman. Am I the only one?

My other question is this:

Why, beyond this church, do we not hear of the people who have received these miracles? It seems it just ends with them and their papa and fellow sons and daughters of the prophets.

In Jesus’ time, He forbade people to talk about Him and what He had just done but the people went out telling all and sundry. Remember the two blind men? Who forbade today’s recipients of ‘Jesus’ goodness’ to go out and tell the world of their miracles? How come the local broadcaster, terrible and starved of great content as it is, is not flooded by these ‘miracle’ recipients and their families, friends and even neighbours etc to verify and testify to these miracles?

“Mat 9:30-31: And their eyes were opened; and Jesus straitly charged them, saying, See that no man know it. But they, when they were departed, spread abroad his fame in all that country.”

Interesting that these people also then become “sons and daughters of papa” yet, when some of the people who opted to follow Jesus, they then effectively left the then “church.” Yes, why are we now in an era of crowds seeking “papa”s and “mama”s and not seeking after Jesus?

Reading my Bible, I noticed that even deacons within the church performed miracles, signs and wonders. Look at Stephen, he healed, cast out demons, flew Air HolyGhost, preaching JESUS throughout many cities. How come it seems signs and wonders are only by the “men and women of God” and the believers do nothing but cry out “Hee papa, hee mama, hee man of God, Amen” etc? Where is the power of the church? Where is the move of the Holy Spirit in these churches? Why are these men and women of God and not by the lay people only doing the “greater things than these”? How come it is the ‘power’ of these prophets and prophetesses that people are spreading and not the power of God? Peter raised Dorcas from the DEAD, yes, from the dead and yet we do not hear of Peter’s power but that people believed in God because of these miracles! I recall Paul and Barnabus renting their clothes after people identified them to be gods! Yes, these two men had just healed a lame man and the city went ballistic in celebration but the two put a stop to the insanity of the idea that they would be likened to gods!  How come we do not hear the anger of today’s prophets in refuting the idea/reality of being given such high “honour” of even having people cursing anyone who dares question them? Interesting that these so-called believers rush to quote the scripture, “Touch not my anointed” yet Paul was stoned and left for dead for refusing to be honoured ‘as a god’ instead of Christ receiving that honour. It is all part of the hazards of the territory, me  says. Vachiri kungobvunzwa chete? Ah, havasati, vachatosvika pakuponderwa Jesu uyu, me says!

I want to quote one of my favourite pastors who quotes the Bible in a way I want to share with everyone else:

PC aka Pastor Craig Ndoro says: “The Bible says, ‘Be ye transformed by the RENEWAL of your minds’ and not by the REMOVAL of your minds.” I must agree with him, many of today’s believers have removed minds, simple- hakuna kufunga! There, I said it.

Help! I talk to myself….On second thoughts, I AM normal!

Damn it! I talk to myself. Yes, ndinotaura ndega. I talk to myself so many times a day and it helps me function “normally”. I hate it when I don’t talk to me because I forget my thoughts. Imagine, I have just scrolled thru my phone yet I forgot why I wanted the phone in the first place.

i also tend to go back to the task or room I was doing/ at so that I recall what I want in the room I have just entered. Yes, I do that a lot. And I do that a lot when I forget to talk to myself. When I talk to myself, I remember much more easily what I want or why I am where I am and the like.

I also tend to hold conversations with myself. There is a difference between talking to myself and holding conversations with myself. In talking to myself, I tell myself stuff that I do not want to forget…stuff such as, “go back and edit that Facebook post you want to post because they will surely pick you up this time” LOL. In holding entire conversations I tend to just talk to myself and respond to myself. Yes, I do. It is like there are two or more MEs who are having an exchange of sorts. Not necessarily heated but words are shared. Not gossip, although I tend to do that, too. Well, it is safer than doing it with someone else- kinda like a masturbation of gossip. LOL

Anyway, when I have entire conversations with myself, I tend to experience a whole host of emotions. kinda like:

Duh, you can be quite a mouthful, at times, R.

Of course, I am. What did you think I would be? A boot-lick like those Zanu apologists? (LOL, a part of me even laughs right now. It is just not the part that is recalling a recent conversation, so go figure.)

You can be more subtle, you know?

Subtle?? Ha!!! Does she even know the word? (Yes, another part of me interrupts rudely, uninvited and like that random stranger on the kombi ride who butts into your conversation forcing you into an awkward silence. You know the one I am talking about… I have been her. 😉 )

Shut up and mind your business! (I will rarely be silenced, even by that rude and random part of me. RMEs- rolling my eyes)

So what did you say this time around? (Another part of me, this one is the really curious one and she almost always gets me into trouble when she pitches up. She always wants to know the WHAT or else the WHY. I suspect that she is the one who pushes me into discovering they HOW of it. Ayaas)

I did not say anything I did not mean. (The sheepish side responds. I even see her looking down. I don’t know how she is even a part of me. Shy?? ha!! she needs a bit of spine! I will teach her!)

Yet you said what you meant, right? (That rude stranger again. #sigh this time she is spotting a huge smile. The one that has lit up her semi cat-eyes and they are sparkling with that insatiable need to be confirmed right. I am kinda reminded of how a piece of sh@&t you have walked past is somehow lingering in the air making you think that you probably have stepped on it but are afraid to look beneath your shoe. Why does that image come to mind?)

Don’t answer that! (I have no idea as to where or who or which part of me said it but one part of me decides to listen and that is where this particular conversation ends)
I want sadza. (Is that even a thought or it is a new conversation?)

Sadza and what? You have hate meat so why bother? (yes, it is a new conversation.)

Yes, I had sadza yesterday and eating it again is like…. aaargh! and I am talking to myself again! (Who is talking now? Me. But which me is it?)

Can I ju….Hello? Hi. (I interrupt myself to start a proper conversation on the phone. At least this one is with people who answer back. Wait a minute…I answer myselves back. #sulk)

They are boring. He is boring!! Just hang up. (must be the trouble maker, the one who is ill-disciplined. Needs a thorough bottom-whipping to instill the fear of mother in her. I wonder how my grandmother and father missed out on instilling discipline in this one. She must have surfaced later on in my life. Kinda like how a little worm/ maggot surfaces in sadza just as you are about to dish it into dad’s plate. Do you get relieved because it surfaced at just that moment rather than later? Or you get annoyed that now you can’t eat because you know what was in the sadza?)

No, that would be rude. Just excuse yourself and hangu up. (Evidently, this one is just a talker and did not see the worm/ maggot.)

Same difference! She will just have to hang up at the end of it. (This one is as stubborn as skin pigmentation…no matter how light skinned these cheap, under-the-handbags creams can get you, all your blackness aka brownness will insist on settling on your knuckles! To proudly help you knock on any doors of opportunity, loudly declaring to you that you are a dark skinned woman running away from yourself like police officers at the kirawa yamadzibaba. ROFLMAO. Ok, not really, I am walking around somewhere and laughing my tail off. Imagine how all that pigmentation is running away- it can be Usain Bolt-ing, or it can be Haile Gebrselassie-ing, but run to the knuckles, it does.

Yes. I am still here. I was just lowering the volume. What I would give to silence these really loud MEs inside of me! (I will not even bother to ask who has taken over but my phone conversation is now so different with all theMEs just jabbering on inside me.)

It is lots of fun to talk to myself (hey, we are quite a few of you in here) #giggle

Of today’s “fast” young girls: #BIAAGZIM

I come from a society that believes in punishment rather than rehabilitation, a society that believes in reactionary methods of dealing with challenges rather than trying to prevent them, a society that is more in denial than accepts reality, and in so doing, would learn how to deal with them. And that is just the shame of it. Child marriage is sadly a scourge and the fight to end it has got to be very deep and, like a boil, it must be painfully ‘squeezed out from the root’. In a society where women are commodities to be owned, girls tend to be the ‘highest prized” of these commodities meant to help “turn around” the economic woes of families. Families sell their girl children, be it to be (cheap) labour or into marriage- to men who violate these young innocents’ childhood.  The Customary Marriages Act which looks at all customary marriages in the country does not even have an age limit as to what age people can get married, so a lot of young girls are married off under “customary marriages” and the law cannot do anything to punish those who abuse young girls in such scenarios.

It is fair and fine to look at marriage within the customary settings but I want to particularly look at child marriages in the modern set up where school going girls are impregnated by one person or the other and are forced out of school and sent packing into marriages they did not want or even think about. Child marriage, also known as early marriage, can be defined as “Any marriage carried out below the age of 18 years, before the girl is physically, physiologically, and psychologically ready to shoulder the responsibilities of marriage and childbearing.” I have followed a lot of debates on how “fast” or kuda zvinhu our young girls have become. I get it that we are a prude and uptight society that frowns upon sexual intercourse by women. I get it BUT…how then do we help these young in-school girls, at the peak of raging hormones and are that age where experimenting and exploration is rivalled by that of babies? Young people are having sex and my society had better accept this fact and deal with it. I am one of those who applauds the minister who wants condoms in schools as well as applaud those teens at the recent nude party who were  found in possession of condoms. That means that these kids are better prepared to engage in safer sex than be at the risk of such dangers as teenage pregnancy, which I view to be one of the number one reasons for child marriage.

I want to pose a series of questions:

If a baby loves the flickering of flames, do we leave that baby to play with it or we remove it from harm’s way? Do we punish a baby for their being attracted to flames? How come we child-proof homes why can we not ‘adult-proof’ our teens? Sex and pregnancy is meant for adults yet we do not talk to our teens about it but somehow expect them to just not indulge. We have a society that believes that whole grown men, heads of homes and even leaders in various circles, are incapable of controlling their sexual urges, how then do we expect these young people to be able to do what adults fail and are expected to fail to do? And when these kids fail and fall pregnant we punish them by sending them into an institution that accounts for more abuses of women than any. We send them to start a rite of passage that only a mature, informed and consenting adult should be willingly entering. I am particularly looking at those child marriages which take place because a school going girl has come home late or she has fallen pregnant and must “go kwaakapihwa nhumbu yake” (she must go to whoever made her pregnant)

People can get emotional all they want but a child who, despite acting all grown up and doing grown up business, has no business being thrust into a space that she is most likely to be abused repeatedly. This young girl-woman needs to be in school where an education can help her secure a better future for her. She needs the support of her family during this bewildering period in her life and not left in the hands of a man who most probably does not want anything to do with her or the baby she is now carrying. Sending her into marriage at such an early age and given the likely scenario she will face, IS punishing her, and punishing her terribly, if I may be so candid. Marriage should be a joy and not something that is founded on “mistakes”, fear and constant reminders that one is being punished and is unwanted.

Given that sex has taken place between a child-woman and (usually) an adult, why does my society see it fit that a few dollars, cows and some clothes and groceries are given in exchange for the entire future of this child? How much is a woman’s future worth anyway? Seems it carries a small price tag whichever way we look at it. Let us all remember that before we condemn this “wayward” child, for she still is a child, she is at the mercy of her hormones and we need to guide her through this difficult time of her life. I would dare challenge parents to take up the parenting mantle and equip their young girls with all the information they would need to get through this period in a manner that will allow them to avoid the pitfalls of teenage pregnancy and teenage sex. Marrying her off is not a solution and should not even be contemplated. Let us talk WITH our children about sexual intercourse so that they are better informed and ready to face or avoid it.

#BIAAGZIM