#BikoLives - A reflection of Prof Angela Davis' Lecture in memoriam of Bantu Steve Biko 2016

Bantu Steve Biko was killed on 12 September 2016 and 39 years later, we commemorate him. We also use this day to reflect on his writings and teachings. Ideologies that I believe deserve more than just a day to be interrogated in society. One of the reasons I resigned from my job (besides the purpose question) in 2011 was because I couldn't breathe anymore. I had just been introduced to the writings of Biko and it felt as if I had been living a lie all my life. It is amazing how many of us grow up and assimilate into whiteness without being conscious about it. That is how society has been set up. It did not make sense on how I was going to be liberated by being co-opted in the very system that sought to oppress me as a Black woman. 

  Yes, many years of oppression has complicated things and it seems impossible for blacks to create their own means of production. But I trult believe that we must start somewhere. We must reimagine a world where we are proudly black and support all things black in order to reinvent the economic wheel. We talk. We produce theories. We prove ourselves and and and... But we must also put our money where our mouths and theories are. This is why we fight each and every single day. It was not normal to Biko then and it is not normal for us today that "a minority should impose an entire system of values on an indigenous people". However we want to view the imposed system. Different name, same soul. Being co-opted for me almost feels like being part of Nusas, where there will always be a white majority fronting to be progressive at your requests. I personally am tired of being a subject of study and rescue. A subject that is not imagined upon to have their own thought patterns. I do criticize the narrative that excludes women and continually put men in the forefront. 

On 9 September 2016, University of South Africa in partnership with the Steve Biko foundation held a memorial lecture in honour of the memory of Bantu Steve Biko. Professor Angela Davis, political activist and scholar, delivered the 2016 lecture. For some of us, attending the lecture was an act of self care. For some, not so much. A Twitter acquaintance sent me a DM and said "looks like Ms Davis went on a feminist rant than honour the legend she was meant to honour". If one is well versed with the works of Davis, one would know why she took the angle that she took. She was also very clear from the onset, what was expected of her. 

On 12 September, as we honoured the memory of Biko, Aphelele Somi and I unpacked Davis' lecture. Click on link below for the conversation between Aphelele and I. 

Unpacking Angela Davis Biko Lecture 2016

She urged us to never stop dreaming for an imagined future where we will be free. I am personally tired but I heed to the call and continue dreaming. One day we will be free. 

Toni Morrison on distraction

“The function, the very serious function of racism is distraction. It keeps you from doing your work. It keeps you explaining, over and over again, your reason for being. Somebody says you have no language and you spend twenty years proving that you do. Somebody says your head isn’t shaped properly so you have scientists working on the fact that it is. Somebody says you have no art, so you dredge that up. Somebody says you have no kingdoms, so you dredge that up. None of this is necessary. There will always be one more thing.” Toni Morrison

I have been meditating on these words lately. Finding myself slowly dipping into a dark hole which looks like depression and despair. One has to stop and figure out what has brought them to that point. Yes I get it, just by being black alone, is a cause for a constant nervous condition. As Bongani Madondo uttered at this year's #openbookfestival, South Africans at this juncture are really stuck in a state of anxiety. And so when we find ourselves here, how do we allow ourselves joy, peace and some laughter? On top of battling with the distractions that comes with racism. One is constantly trying to prove their blackness to their fellow blacks, or their wokeness as it were. We must understand that existing today comes with loads of contradictions. Contradictions because we have so much to unlearn.

#MzansiBrewed: Supporting Local Art is Activism

I have said it once before and I am going to say it again. Art, in whichever form has a language that can penetrate deep into one’s soul. Whether you are spiritual or not, I am certain that we can agree that there is an emotive tug that a good piece of art invokes deep down within. The year 2016 finds South Africa at a crossroad in terms of Black voices rising and asserting themselves against different forms of oppression. It is a time where we can no longer deny the reality and pain that comes with Blackness.

Various forms of art therefore become very important as tools of liberation for an oppressed group. This explores the debate of “art for art sake” on the value for art. Although I am not in favour of putting the responsibility of how art is received and interpreted solely on the artist. I do believe that (black) artists have a big role to play in conveying a message to their audience. A very contentious statement, hence I chose my words carefully. It is not the artist's responsibility, but they do play a big role in the grand scheme of things. With #BlackPain being a reality, art in any form helps us go through each day with hope knowing that we will occupy what is rightfully ours (Can we stop being strangers on our own land please bbz*).

With the country currently going through much hardships and strain, there is no other place to retreat than in the safe arms of art. Because when our souls are crushed from the realities of black pain, we can but find expression in the form of art. Through the melodic rhythms, we express what we can't say in words. Through words, we allow our souls to speak. Through visuals, we come face to face with ourselves. Within our hollow chambers , our souls cry out, orchestrating the feelings we can’t quite comprehend. This black pain that torments us. The words, tunes and images that float is but a true mirror to our bleeding hearts. They explain fully what we feel. The thud and pulse we can’t quite put a finger on. ‪#‎Ubumnyama‬!

May we all make a conscious decision to support local at all cost. It not only builds confidence and consciousness, but it adds to the economy as well, making it possible for currency to go around black hands.

Let us continue supporting local. It is an act of activism!

#MzansiBrewed

* @Leighratoh said it first 

Decolonisation in the Context of #BlackLove

A friend and I recently mused over love in its broadest sense. Naturally, the conversation navigated towards unpacking the psyche that informs romantic #BlackLove. I might be too simplistic in describing the kind of love we spoke of as 'romantic' love. We then explored the different lenses in which we as a society and individuals view this romantic #BlackLove and how we can further imagine it. Background lenses. Societal lenses. Personal Experience lenses. It seems that there exists a particular construction about what #BlackLove represents. This may be the reason why so many people approach relationships with fear. We cannot be in denial about what colonialism and apartheid did to the Black family structure, making family relations extremely complex; which we see the debris flowing right into current day.

It's important that we understand why we see the things the way we do. What type of stories were we told regarding two bodies in a romantic relationship? What kind of norms were formed in how we behave towards each other in relating in accordance to love? How did these norms construct how we live out our romantic relationships on a daily basis. I want to think about what we can do to begin to deconstruct a toxic narrative about what romantic #BlackLove represents. 

We have to take deliberate actions in unlearning these ills that exist between two bodies. The ills that were constructed by an oppressive system. The ills that keep two bodies imprisoned and choked. Simply because they can't breathe. 

Please listen to the conversation between Aphelele Somi and I, on her #PowerFM987 #PowerLunch show, as we unpacked this topic.

Please have a listen here:

https://soundcloud.com/powerfm987/decolonisation-in-the-context-of-black-love

Let us use Love as a tool to deconstruct the system that was used against us.

Maybe marriage is not such a bad idea...

I attended a wedding on 12 March 2016 and it was all sorts of special. One of my highlights for the day was when Deputy Chief Justice Dikgang Moseneke (he performed the Ceremony) declared the couple "Wife and Husband" and told the Wife to kiss her Husband. Many missed that bit but I think it was extremely important under Section 9 of the Constitution of South Africa. If you know our History as South Africans, you will know that for a long time, women were rendered second class citizens of South Afric...a. It was when the Bill of Rights was introduced that women were formally recognised as EQUAL citizens. Therefore Language and Words are so important as they carry much power.

As if that was not enough. When the Father of the Groom gave the vote of thanks, he drummed it into his son's head that : "she is not going to be your slave. She will not be at you beck and call. She is equal just like all of us are in the family". Comrades, Compatriots and Friends of the Opposition. I could share many special moments about the wedding but I will leave it here.

There are days when it's painful being a Black Body. And then there are days when you realise how much ‪#‎BlackLove‬ plays a role in our own assertions and liberation of our minds! You see - we have to squeeze out hope from every possible fruit.

On getting my sheyyyyyt together in 2016...

I have received an overwhelming response regarding my post about 2016 (and beyond) being a year of #SelfCare and Flourishing in Peace. It seems like the general verdict is that many of us have been truly neglecting the self in the name of service. I hope that we will begin to be honest with ourselves about the real stuff we deal with in our lives. Positive self talk can only be effective if we are honest about ourselves.

This season of #SelfCare got me in some serious reflective mode. I am almost suffering from an identity crisis. I cannot fully explain it. I will blog about it in my next blog though. Maybe some revelations will launch but whatever is going on - feels weird, awkward yet exciting. This reflective mode has me thinking about goal-setting for 2016. I am not much of the new year resolution type. I am more connected to nature so I align my goal setting activities with the Seasons. So naturally, I synchronise my "new me" vibes with Spring. In the same breath, I must admit that "mob psychology" (a concept my mom taught me) tempts me. There is something jovial about the "new year - new me" brigade. So not to be a party pooper (the only time peer pressure gets me), I use this time to reflect mostly. I promised myself to focus on the following treats that promote #SelfCare in 2016 (and beyond).

In 2016 - I promise to...

Be Deliberate in #SelfCare Practices

I need to make the decision to actively engage in practices that promote #SelfCare. Many women are so busy taking care of others that they don't even know what it means to be taken care of. They cannot name their favourite fruit or even what they enjoy doing during their spare time (what spare time?). Top 5 favourite restaurants? yes? No?

I meditate - that is what I do. I create the atmosphere. Light some scented candles. Play some worship or jazz tunes and I get in the zone.
I don't do my nails - I would like to do some of that
I don't enjoy spas. Friends of mine took me out in December because I had been working super hard. I realised the reason I do not like spas is because I feel like it's a waste of time. I would like to do more spa expeditions.
I would like to be more present during my hair wash days, you know - stuff like that.

Attend all my Therapy Sessions

I have never honoured my therapy sessions because I felt that "I got this". I have been counselling folk from the tender age of 10. Surely I should be able to deal with any haunting mental illness right? I have a withdrawal, I make an appointment, I attend my first sitting and I never return. I feel like I know what the therapist is going to say before they think it. Actually, I think I have more experience than the therapist so I judge them. I never return because surely I can cure myself right? So I opt for the self-management route, which I fail in because I am so engrossed in saving the world that I allow myself to plunge deeper and deeper into an abyss of nothingness. And then after great strides, I have to set the clock back to zero - the clock of recovery.
So I spent time speaking to my therapist in December. Not a session, but a phone conversation. I told him I want to see someone else, and he agreed. My mentor suggested that someone else. I called that someone else and I know I made the right decision. I realise the older I get - the more roasted I become. It gets really difficult to deal with the debris left by my eating disorder and ADHD moment in and moment out. So I am doing this Bazalwane.

Travel More

I grew up as a nomad. We moved a lot during key development stages of my life (kinda explains my commitment issues right?). By the time we settled, it became difficult to adjust.
When the family settled, we travelled (holidaying) quite a bit. Warmbaths, Train escapades, Malawi, Lesotho, Swaziland, Botswana, Durban, Cape Town and and and... We stopped travelling when my Gololo dad shifted his attention to the church (PK grudge). Nonetheless, it was too late, a precedence was set from a young age. Travel = Adventure. After I matriculated in 2001, I did the whole travelling thing. I have been blessed to have explored different continents extensively. There is something about travelling that makes you appreciate your own soil. Something that expands and shifts your paradigm. I am forever grateful for those opportunities. I have also come to realise that many South Afrikans do not travel as much as they could (papers have been written on reasons why - another topic for another day). My corporate days also saw me travel quite a bit - but something about that took the fun out of travelling. I just stopped smelling the fresh air.
I love roadtrips and would like to return on the road (maybe by public transport, maybe finally buy that cruiser neh? - wow!). So I am going to do this. More roadtrips - in and out of our soil.

Attend more Live Gigs

I love live gigs. From Poetry Slams, to Jazz Joints, right to Theater. I am a sucker for a great atmosphere of soul musings. Art stirs me and reminds me how beautiful the soul is. This is mainly the reason I started the Mzansi Brewed  blog and page. Firstly to promote supporting black. Secondly to share my love for the arts. It is my safe space <3

Connect with more Black Women

I love women. My first organisation was geared for women. I love being around women. I have hosted many events with women and I am a witness to the truth that when women come together -magic happens. Something about the Feminine energy igniting on overload. I have neglected connecting with my sisters on a one on one basis that they have just allowed me to be. This year I will host more Lady Leader and Feminine Dinners (Moon musings). Letting go of clutter will definitely free up more time to do this.

Keep things Simple

I would like to be able to explain certain things to five year olds you know...

Read books I want to read 

One upside to my condition is that it allows me to be somewhat of a polymath. I want to know everything. From cars right up to strawberries. I get nervous if I am in a situation where I do not know. So I read about engines, I read about the economy, I read about fashion, :( - I also read so that I can critic effectively. No matter how horrible a book is - I read it. Zakes Mda offers Tips on How to write on @BooksLive and one of his tips: "Avoid reading thrash. It is infectious and will creep into your own writing. Read only writers whose work you admire."
Anything Zakes Mda tells you to do when it comes to reading - you do. KAPISH!

Write Write Write

I am a writer. But an impostor writer. I judge myself harshly and hide my work. But the words "Find your voice and use it - use your voice and find it" by Jayne Cortez keep me encouraged. I will stop being that wallflower in the literary world and finally bloom. I enjoy my writing and have decided that if anything, I want to write for me. After Prof Kgositsile spoke to me about my impostor syndrome. I decided to find my voice by writing a series of fiction short stories. I find it makes it easier to share my work. This exercise has also helped me realise the kind of books I want to write in the future.

Make a Billion Rands..
Wink*

Well, it's clear that I will be getting my sheeeeyt together in 2016.

@malebosays 

#LionessRising

Is Falling in Love for me?

Ok, I must confess that my heading is a bit of a click bait since I won't really be discussing falling in love in that instance. But just to indulge you, I am more of a rising in love kinda person. I can even settle for walking in love. Better yet, how about we dance in love? Ok so what is the purpose of this blogpost? Let me get to it then.

I have never hidden my views when it comes to patriarchy and nuclear family structures. I'm always amused at how regardless of my standing, most men who pursue me are set in their misogynistic ways. Take Guy X for example. He has been pursuing me since 2012 and his misogynoir literally sends sharp pains to my womb. He criticises me at every chance he gets and goes on and on about what an angry Black woman I am (he's short on saying how ugly I am). One would say he despises me yet he claims to be madly in love and tells me how I'm the only woman who can fulfill the duty of his manhood. I'm sure this is just a case of "I've tamed the lioness therefore my manhood has been affirmed". I can't imagine what else this dissonance could be. Say we hook up? When will he enjoy me? I mean - will his life be about trying to tame me? ‪#‎RollsEyes...

I'm a commitmentphobe and stay away from organised romantic relationships (by choice). But contrary to popular belief, I am actually a hopeless romantic. I am a contact and relational person in all my relationships (family, friends etc.). I am a healer and nurturer and have a big heart of forgiveness (nxxxxxx). I am fun and adventurous and hooking up with me will be an experience of a lifetime (👀). Although this does not render me an expert in relationship what what - I would like to offer an opinion under the Appendix of Free Speech in our Land.

When two folks are involved romantically. In my case - a man and a woman. I do wish we would stop defining the love in terms of gender roles. Gender roles almost translate to what the next person can do for you and how much you need them in your life to perform these roles. I would imagine rather, it being about who you are as an individual and just wanting to be with a certain individual because of who they are as well. Enjoying one another's company and making a decision to journey together to an agreed destination.
One day I was changing my tyre on the side of the road when a man stopped to help me. I told him i was almost done and in shock he reacted "women want to be men these days. I truly wonder what my role is in your life as it seems like you don't need me"
I guess that's the problem right there.
Roles make us want to be needed. The role creates a certain level of control. This can translate into abuse if one does not fulfill their "role". So you feel you are the breadwinner in the house because you are a man and that's your role. The day your means to bring in the bread gets cut off, how do you continue fulfilling this role? Abuse becomes inevitable in this case due to the insecurities of not being able to fulfill your role.

"Hey hon, today I feel like cooking. But yesterday I didn't. Wanna help me?"
"Why not. Tomorrow I feel like making steak for my baby."
"Ncooooo my darling"

Vs 

"I work all day and I come home and all I want is my woman to welcome me with sweet aromas of a home cooked meal"
"I work too - in fact, I just got here 5 min ago"
"Women of today. Don't be surprised when someone comes and cooks for me. Clearly you have forgotten your role in this house"
"Faints*"

This head and neck analogy screws us over big time you know. Why can't we just be us - we figure out how to exist together and just do us.

Oh and bbz - before I finish. This notion of a man being a babysitter to his children must stop. You will find him at the mall with three of HIS kids and people around will be like:

"Ncaaaaw look at him, he's such a great father. How does he do it? How does he manage to look after all three of his kids at the same time"

Him:" I just thought I'd give the mother of my kids a break today you know. She works hard. I'm on babysitting duty today"

Come on... Plz (Zuma eye roll)

Giving her a break? No one gave the other a break during the merging of the sperm to the egg right? 👀
Basically - this role thing is so dodge though.

So do we relate like fire? Are we sapiosexuals? Would you read to me ‪#‎ReadToBae? Do our ideals, politics, spirituality dot dot dot align? Are you about economic, social, political, mental freedom? Do you accept my darkness as much as you love my light? Are you about ‪#‎Blackness? Like can you handle this lioness (and importantly can you handle V-Empress)? Ok cool - then I'm in

How I lost the war of "self care" in 2015...

I would be lying if I were to declare right now that 2015 was a bad year for me. In fact, it was an awesome year on many fronts but I can't help but sit back with a tinge in my heart thinking about how no matter the gains in 2015, in the end, I seem to have lost the war. As I type this I hear the quote echoing in my head "It's not how you start that matters, it is in the how you finish". Although this is one of those relative quotes, it holds a case in this current circumstance that I am facing.

Most of my leadership and relational capabilities were molded in the church. If there is one thing that every leader in the church knew, is that the greatest leadership quality is that of servanthood. The first will be last and the last will be first and, remember, at the end, it is not about you but about God's people. You have to put others before yourself. Living with this creed throughout my life screwed with me because any moment I thought of myself, binges of guilt would ravage me, leaving me feeling like I had failed God's people. Along with all of that, I watched my Gololo parents sacrifice so much, even their careers, to serve "the church", much to my dad's health deterioration at a later stage. This is not exclusive to church experience but for the sake of my reality, I use the church as an illustration.

So as it was, this nugget was drilled into me until it became second nature - "life does not belong to you, you are placed on earth to serve others". This is the place from where I made most of my decisions. This runs deep in my veins and no matter what consciousness does to you, when something runs in your veins, it will haunt you, reminding you that it will take a while to filter out of your stream - if ever.

I am truly appreciative of the life I have been afforded to live, but if there is one thing I could change, that would be to take better care of myself. I sit here, having had a beautiful 2015 but an awful December which served as a painful reminder of how much, over the years, I have neglected my one true weapon, which is me. When you start with such talk, Bible markers and self appointed spokespeople will remind you of how self indulgent you are becoming. What use is it to gain the whole world but in the process, lose your soul? (proverbs). This is exactly what self neglect does to you. It seeps all of you until your soul is drained and lost. You end up being resentful at the outcomes, because as humans would have it, the "give and it shall be given unto you" epistle lacks a great deal in our compass. I have always pondered on the "love your neighbor as you would love yourself" scripture. In essence, you do a disservice to those you are serving when you neglect yourself. For how do you love the next if you haven't even started trying to love yourself. Do not get me wrong, I am not talking about the looting kind of self care at the expense of others. I am talking about self preservation which makes you effective in the welfare of yourself and others.

Naturally this trait pours into the rest of everything that I do. As a thinker, writer, activist, educator, and someone who is passionate about black lives and reclaiming the economy of Africa. One can be so engrossed in the matters of black pain, putting our causes before our well being. Because systems and structures are not built to take care of the black body, we are constantly having to put others way before ourselves in this struggle for any form of integrity. Almost reminding us that we are unworthy in the world of various -isms.

As a black woman, society has placed a heavy burden on what I should be. Society expects you to put others first while juggling all these different aspects of your life - they make you feel better by saying you are good at multitasking. Lest we not forget how you are a "strong black woman" and how you are all things to all mankind. A conversation between a black man and myself during my December slump suggested that I was not allowed to cave in under pressure because I am a black woman and black women got this. For a moment, I nearly played along. Until I remembered Audre Lorde's words.

Audre Lorde in her "a burst of light" opined that:

“Caring for myself is not self-indulgence, it is self-preservation, and that is an act of political warfare.”

That the struggle for being alive is one of survival and political warfare especially as a marginalised body. As a black woman, I face so many struggles in the name of patriarchy, structural violence and racism. Coupled with the struggle for relevance, it can result as a direct attack on one's body.  A good friend of mine during the #FeesMustFall protest made a comment that at the rate we were going, we would need to turn to various substances to help us cope. Obviously, when we share this with fellow comrades, some called us weak, reminding us of comrades who fought bravely and tirelessly against the struggle of slavery and apartheid. That as a black body, you do not deserve self care - you need to run yourself down in order to legitimise your commitment to the struggle. One thing we seem not to get in all of this is how the body responds to stress caused by oppression. This struggle, results in our bodies turning against us, making us ineffective in the long run, this is when we will lose the war. It is not a big surprise why in the midst of the festivities and joyful cheers that comes with the ever so consumer-hungry December, many suffer from "unknown" anxiety and depression.

I am sitting here, 20 kilos heavier and it's because of how I respond to stress (overeating coupled with lack of exercise). In addition to the 20 kilos I packed, I have to at some point come to terms with the "learning disability" I live with as it contributes to the pain and neglect I reap continuously throughout my life. Being in an environment where my mind is my biggest asset, I have to come to terms with the fact that a mental illness cripples me and my year in and year out denialism is slowly causing the dearth of my longevity. I have survived on "managing" my mental illness, but I have also lived through some hard negative talk on myself because of how the illness inhibits my full potential. Self acceptance does not mean that you somehow magically become a new person and overcome your darkness, but it means that you are "ok" with who you are and the chemical breakdown that exists within you that leads to your demise. When you are at a place of self acceptance, it is easier to seek help in that regard.

When I as a black woman engage in self-care, I begin to disrupt socialisation about how women should put others first instead of themselves. It's an act of warfare to manage my mental health, to eat well for my body, mind and soul, to laugh, to dance, to write, to engage in restorative black narratives. It's a war I win that dismantles so many of my limitations. It boggles the structure that puts me at the end of the chain. If I Malebo, take care of myself, I am able to continue in my thinking, activism, in my story telling and in my diamond refining projects. Knowing that HerStory will continue to be told throughout generations. That is when becoming the best version of myself benefits not only me, but those I seek to serve in the grand scheme of things.

@malebosays

When am I writing that book already?

Being a Black writer in South Afrika comes with its own challenges. For a very long time, we have been subjected to books with a rhetoric and authors we cannot relate to. As if that is not bad enough, we have always had White or Western authors tell us about who we are. You walk into many book shops in South Afrika and you would swear that the book shop is located somewhere in the middle of Europe. Maybe this is the reason that a narrative exists that "South Afrikan blacks do not read".
In this era (which I have deemed the Era of Enlightenment), we see many black writers coming up and debunking the myth and any stereotypes that exist around Blacks and literature. Access remains a huge challenge though. Access to literature should never be exclusive and so far it is. Books are extremely expensive and there are not enough (Black) publishers who are publishing Black authors.  

Considering the above, it makes total sense that many of us should add our voices to the literary spaces that exist right?

And so the question arises... "When are you going to write a book Malebo?"

Those who are tired of asking the question just go ahead and scold me..."Malebo, write that book already".

I cannot tell you how many times I have heard those words lashed out at me. I identify as a writer, a great one at it. So what is the problem? When am I writing that book already? How is it that I witness so many other people confidently write and publish their books? what is wrong with me? When am I writing that book already? I am an avid reader and a big supporter of Afrikan literature. In my circle of friends and acquaintances, my name is synonymous with reading (and writing). Most people reach out to me when they want recommendation on what to read. I have edited and proof-read a few manuscripts in my life. So what is the big deal here? When am I writing that book already?

Professor Keorapetse Kgositsile once told me that in order to feel comfortable in my writer's skin, I should write as much as I can until I develop a voice so distinct that it screams my name at any critical eye. The conversation I had with him totally transformed my attitude towards writing a book. I do feel that many writers put too much pressure on themselves and try and emulate someone else, in this, they fail to develop their own voice. I can almost hear the echos of Jayne Cortez as I write this; "find your own voice and use it, use your own voice and find it". I am a teacher by nature and so simplifying difficult concepts is what I do best. I have been blessed with being able to grasp subjects that range from the Sciences, Economics right up to Humanities. In a complex world that is today, a world where we need minds decolonised, education (I use this word loosely) is our best weapon.This is the reason I avoid verbosity in my writing. It took me months to perfect simplicity; to avoid sounding smart you know. I have also had to deal with my grammar nazi tendencies. I no longer police others and myself as harsh as I used to in the past. This policing often produced rigid mechanised writing. How refreshing it is to read a work of an author who is comfortable in their voice and it comes through when reading their work.

So with all that said, when am I writing that book already?

Malebo the impostor

The impostor syndrome is something that I have lived with my entire life. I am not sure if it is because of when I was born or is as a result of all the hardships I have had to endure throughout my life. Sufferers of the impostor syndrome go through life believing that their accomplishments and gifts are consequence of luck and timing and that one day they will be found out as frauds. This usually leads one to self-sabotage or to withdraw from major activities out of the fear of 'failing' or being deemed as a fraud. I came face to face with this phenomenon when I was profiled for a television show once. My mother and long term school friend, Khosi, were asked to talk about what type of child I was growing up. I spoke first and the incongruity that showed between what I said and what my mom and Khosi said were startling. They spoke of this confident overachiever who was a stranger to me. Surely they did not see what a fraud I was. How did I manage to fool everyone I thought to myself.

I am still unable to accept fully all that I have achieved and I highly suspect that the reason I refuse to be nominated for awards is because of this. I did not make a big deal about my birthday for a long time because it meant that I would get to hear about what others thought of me. This would mean that I had fooled people into thinking I was something I was not. I worked extra hard to try and cover up this "fraud" which translated into more praise and adoration, which in turn freaked me out once more.

I do not have a consistent set profile because of this. It makes me feel somewhat uncomfortable writing all those things that I have done and achieved. I was recently interviewed by Adenike Fatoki-Campbell of Our Paths to Greatness and I must say that this was one of the few interviews that I had to dig into all the things I have done throughout my life. Although I did not share all of me, it was quite close. There are still things I do not share about. The interview received crazy recognition from colleagues and friends on social media as many were shocked at all the things I had manage to do in my life. In the past I would have responded with hiding but I actually stood up tall and accepted my story. As uncomfortable as the praises are, I am making strides in fully dealing with this impostor syndrome (or so I think). Whichever way, I am more confident in my abilities and who I am than I was about ten years ago.

malebosays

Guest Post: The power of CREATION

There are a few things that no matter how captured, the mind cannot even begin to fathom its greatness. One of those is the ability to carry another human being inside of you for a full term. It is a wonder indeed.

 

I must admit the day that I found out I was pregnant I almost temporarily blacked out, almost hitting the floor. In my mind I wasn't ready, I wasn't sure and my life, you see, hadn't worked out the way that I had envisioned. I was pretty much all alone and fearful about this great responsibility. I was numb and just tried to take it one day a time, surprised, anxious but also failing to see the blessing. I remember going to the obstetrician and she had couldn't pick up your heartbeat and indicated that more blood tests had to be done because I may have a blighted ovum, at that point, my heart skipped a beat and I was consumed by this overwhelming sadness because I may have lost you before I even had you.  I tried to disconnect and not feel too attached after all it was a few weeks and maybe it wasn't meant to be.

Blood tests came back and you were growing, happiness consumed me and that’s when I made the announcement, not too sure as to how it would be received, I went in confidently because ultimately you were my creation, my responsibility, my child. The news was so well received and most were happy (barring one confusion), but all rejoiced at the this gift I was presenting them with, the gift of chaos, gift of sleepless nights, the gift of having a little human, a gift of a different personality, different perspective. That my child you may not know, places a great deal of responsibility on your shoulders for you bring something different to this hum drum thing called life. I remember hearing your heartbeat finally, and much to my surprise how you started resembling a human, from this blob, unrecognisable blob, to this human form. When did this all happen so quickly? Oblivious to biology and life, I was expecting something squishy, weird looking with no human anatomy. But yet you were there with a strong heartbeat, alive, sleeping through the prodding and poking oblivious to our invasion in your privacy with strangers in tow. My next visit we discovered what you are, a boy. I saw your penis, in plain view. You hid your face as if you knew we were trying to prod and poke and look at you, but yet my child you let your willy hang freely while coveting your face. How strange you must be, I have a lot to teach you about public nudity!  But I must admit, if anything goes, I believe you are a shy child, enjoying the quietness and solitude of the womb. The next visits that follow, you are in foetal positions, not wanting to be disturbed as I suppose what’s going on is the completion of you.  I guess you want to be a surprise, you want me to be patient, and you want me to wonder anxiously about you. Patience I must admit isn't my strongest suit, more so with you. I wonder what type of personality you have, what riles you, what are you passionate about, what is your purpose, what will you never concede on, what are you and I going to disagree on, what similarities will you have to your father, to me, what will I teach you, what will you teach me? All these questions lead to the impatience of waiting for you, you see, I cannot wait! Beyond the cute little fingers and small feet, your complete reliance on me, I'm impatient on what type of man you will become.

I commit to teach you to the best of my ability and action, that you can stand up and be different from everyone, that you will need to be strong because, you see, when you stand for something you believe in, you may not have an audience, your friends will change and leave you, you will go through dark moments, through happiness, you may want to change the world and fail, but its ok, someone watched you and got inspired. My son, you have purpose, live it, breathe it, stand it. And I hope that your choice in a mother will not disappoint you too much, but I hope that in my humanness you appreciate my faults and now that through it all, I love you with my entire being. A love that I knew I had, just waiting for you. For now, I appreciate your gentle to rather violent kicks and jabs in my belly, how you love when you push against my stomach and I massage your little back, it tells me you live, you’re healthy, you can move. I appreciate how your body grows so quickly bearing heavily on my back, my often graceless waddle as you pinch the nerves making it difficult to walk. I appreciate how you communicate your complete dislike of things by switching off my appetite to certain foods and occasional throw up. I appreciate how I see my body changing, sometimes curious but a sense of pride that I'm part of this miracle. 

Thank you my child, for choosing me, for loving me, for showing me that I can be selfless, and the ability to know that when I choose you I always win.

I have been waiting for you, wondering about you before you came. And here you are, in my favour to bare you. 

Nonkululeko Manyika

Menstruation

Disclaimer: this article is intended for sensitive readers...

I started my menstrual cycle in my last year of primary school when I was 12 years old. My mom, having a health background has always been open to me about sexual education. I did not have to wait for the Life Skill class to learn about gonorrhoea so it was not difficult for me to approach my mother when the first spotting happened. Although it was not a taboo subject in our house, I found that my school mates found it difficult to talk about menstrual periods so we all just hid it from each other. Issues such as menstruation are not freely spoken about within our society, if anything, the narrative around periods is often synonymous to shame and contamination. My mother once told me a story about her first period. Word was that your period meant that you were pregnant. The anxiety that came with thinking she was pregnant led her to hiding her periods from her family for a while up until her sister found out; even then it was to be kept between them. Although sexual education in our schools is progressive in the fact that information is available, not much is done to demystify the narrative around menstrual periods.

I'm 31 years old now and not once in my menstrual cycle have I run out of sanitary towels (otherwise known as pads). Out of the fear of running out, I keep my pads everywhere. In my cupboards, in my bags, in my car – everywhere! Sometimes when some (you know we have to say some right? *side eye) of my male friends come across my pads, one can see the obvious discomfort they feel. This discomfort is often followed by expressions such as “ewwwwwwww” or “what is this doing here, so disgusting!” I never understand what is so disgusting about sanitary towels. I am still waiting to be enlightened.

September was a tough month for me, I was under immense pressure so when my period started I was totally caught off-guard with no pad in sight. I still don’t know how I managed to run out of pads but I could not find even one. None in my cupboards, none in my bags and not even in my car, absolutely nothing! A big deadline was threatening and I knew that if I went out to buy some, my creative juices would not give me a second chance. I was in a predicament and if I needed to get my work done, I had to seize the opportunity that these juices had granted me. I started tabulating various ways I could deal with my flow while I finished my work. My mom’s story came to mind, she used newspapers before her sister enlightened her. Another option was to use toilet paper but I had received more than enough lectures on how I would contract all sorts of diseases if I used toilet paper during my periods. These were desperate times and certain risks needed to be taken. And so, Alas, toilet paper it was. The first day is always my heaviest flow so I was tortured by leakage therefore my visits to the bathroom were quite frequent. I went through that roll in no matter of time. I was in a bad mood and felt tortured.

Although I managed to finish my work, the experience left me a bit irritated. I decided to take a bath before going out to buy some pads. Exhaustion must have got the better of me because I passed out.  All I remember after taking my bath was sitting on my bed to read a chapter from a poetry book and the next thing (four hours later), my eyes opened and I was totally out of it. Forgetting that I was on my periods, I stood up without thought and yep, all I felt was a gush of liquid racing down my thighs. I clinched my thighs as I took the long walk to the bathroom. I ran a bath again and dipped myself and shed some tears (I shed tears quite often). I started thinking about all those women and girls who go through this on a monthly basis; those who do not have access to pads. A friend once brought up a very valid point during a discussion on sanitary towels “we have free condoms in the bathrooms but why do we never see free pads?”

The next day I had a lunch meeting with a very good friend of mine and he picked that something was bothering me. I related this story to him and to my shock; he had a look of disgust on his face pleading to stop telling him as he could not deal with the imagery. Mind you, he has two daughters and when I asked how he would be dealing with daughters should something like this happen to them. He said that is why they have a mother. But what if the mother is not around and his daughter starts her first period? What then? How can we be comfortable with watching horror and action movies where blood gets gushed all over but when it comes to the menstrual blood, blue liquid has to be used just so that people are comfortable?

Buck the Norm

*This article first appeared in the February 2015 edition of Destiny Magazine 

 

“Well behaved women seldom make history” –Laurel Thatcher Ulrich

We are living in a society which has constructed many rules for how we should live. We're taught that in order to fit, we must assimilate - or risk being cast out. People usually take longer to accept those who stand out and remain true to themselves. That's why Laurel Thatcher Ulrich's quotation above has been life-altering for me.

All of my life, I've been surrounded by people telling me how to conduct myself in every area of my existence - and what it means to be a prim and proper lady. They've prescribed every facet of my behaviour for me: how I should talk, dress, conduct myself and keep to my place. 

When heeded, these voices can be extremely limiting. They coach you to become an ordinary person who'll only ever achieve ordinary things in your life. They don't encourage little girls to dream beyond their environment and background; instead, they tell them that it's better not to dream or follow their desires. 

I believe that 20 years into democracy in SA, we women have an amazing opportunity to carry the mantle of our mothers and grandmothers who defied what was "normal".  Let's not forget the women who were instrumental in spearheading women's liberation in our country. Had they been "well-behaved" women, according to society's standards, we'd never have made such great strides in the march towards gender equality.

The race hasn't stopped and it's now up to us to carry that mantle with courage and boldness, daring to be different. We have a right to dream, knowing that nothing can come between who we are and what we're capable of contributing to our country, our continent and to the world.

Today we all have the opportunity to become the best version of ourselves: women who aren't merely satisfied with the status quo, but are driven and passionate about denting the universe in a positive and history-making manner.  

For Ulrich, "not behaving" means not being satisfied with what's prescribed as “normal" behaviour for a woman. For years I was stuck in an environment that was not conducive to who I was. Day in and day out, I smiled at outsiders; many would complement me and say I'd reached the peak of my success. But it certainly doesn't feel as if you've reached the pinnacle when you're in the doldrums. 

I made a decision that would be life-altering. I left my job and dedicated my time to doing what fulfils me. I occasionally contribute to the development of learners with the Gauteng Department of Education and I also started a mentorship organisation for women called Lady Leader, comprised of graduates, professionals, academics, community developers and entrepreneurs. We assist in the all-round development of women and also promote mentorship for teenagers.

I can now go to bed each night knowing that I've authored a new page in my life and that this story will, indeed, make history.

@malebosays

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Skuurpot: The Big Chop - The Menjik of it all

As they say that a woman who cuts her hair is about to change her life.

Something magical happened to me in the early hours of the 7th September 2015 and I was very compelled to shave my hair off. I invited a couple of my friends to join me in the journey and they agreed. I promised to share the journey with them. some even asked me for tips and we thought it would be a great Idea if I blogged about it. It is understandable that many believe that natural hair is not manageable and effort. So I will share very simple tips on how to grow very healthy and beautiful hair. So I did it - I chopped all my already existing natural hair off. More than anything as a symbol of the magic I am currently experiencing in my life.

Well errrrr (in leadership Mcebo Dlamini's voice). The big chop is me and I'm loving it. I couldn't really remove everything as I felt strongly tied to the new roots so I kept a bit on top.
So there are a lot of videos and stuff out there which makes maintaining natural hair a bit complicated. I don't have the time nor the passion to put my hair through that. For some it's a calling. Not for me. But I have some few tips for those who decided to embark on this journey with me.

I tried to make that revolutionary line nton-nton but it looks like a rate ate my hair instead tl tl tl - it's ok!!!!

Malebo's top 5 tips to healthy hair.

 1. Not everything works the same for every hair. It's important that you take the time out to explore what works for you. Your hair is alive - let it communicate with you. Do not see it as a problem as it will respond to the vibes you send it. Love it and it will love you right back.

2Hair comes in different types. From 4A - 4D .Most folk in SA have the 4C-4D hair so you will do yourself an injustice if you keep measuring yourself against someone with B-type. Just don't do it. I think your goal shouldn't necessarily be hair growth - but rather healthy happy hair.

3. Quench the thirst - this hair is thirsty for days. It's important that you moisturise it. Dryness causes breakages and split ends which just stops growth. So it's important that you develop a good hair regime.

 Here are the basics (will go more into them as time goes)
3.1 - keep your hair and scalp clean: important to wash your hair at least once a week. Please find a less harsh shampoo (sulphate free) to wash your hair with. You can also co-wash meaning you use your conditioner to wash instead of shampoo
3.2 deep conditioning - this is to treat your hair and make sure it gets manageable, moisturised and soft
3.3 seal in the moisture. I use water to moisturise my hair (no fancy what what) but because our hair is prone to dryness it's important to seal in the moisture. You can do this by using any essential oils (olive oil, coconut oil, shea butter, castor oil etc... Mix them - use them alone. Up to you)

4. Avoid heat - rather let nature dry up your hair then use some hair dryer. But if you must - use very low heat and some heat what what cream that is available at some shops

5. Take care of your hairline and use protective styles. Just because you chopped doesn't mean your hairline will automatically be restored tl tl tl. Take extra care of it. I use Jebba and castor oil for my hairline area. Keeps that part of the hair strong. It's important that you use protective style to aid retention. Twists - plaits etc... Try and avoid too much braiding and pulling.

Recommended products:

Check Sharon Musa Cembi's BBMH products

I also found that Dr Miracle (found at clicks) is super great. - the curl care range is fantastic and is sulphate free - I reviewed them here

Jebba - found at most salons in CBD (great for growth)

Water water water


Remember your diet is important ok. Drink lots of water and eat lots of greens. Your hair will love you ❤

Skuurpot: My hair meets Dr. Miracle's Curl Care range

I love my hair and I have always worn it natural. I must confess that I am not a die hard #naturalista nor do I dedicate my time to the #teamnaturalclub.  Without digressing too much from the point of this post, I believe that every woman has the right to wear her hair however she wants to as long as she is enlightened. I discovered a long time ago that straight hair/weaves do not work for my look so I decided to stay natural. The power in my hair is that it has its own personality. I love watching it go through its different phases. Many black women are concerned about the manageability of natural hair. I totally believe that once you understand your crown, then it wont be that difficult to manage. It might just surprise you. A good regimen and care for your locks, and your hair will be alive and smoking. Not all products work the same for all hair so it is important that you discover what works for your hair. I have extremely thick thirsty hair so it needs optimum moisture. I am not fussy about hair growth nor do I find myself drooling over curly hair to a point that I cannot accept the natural state of my hair. In my opinion, over-classifying our hair types falls within the same region as when we classify our hues (yellow bone etc...).

I came across the Dr Miracle's Curl Care Range and decided to give it a try. What attracted me to the  product was the fact that it is Sulphate and Paraben free and has all the natural products like jojoba and coconut oil. The packaging looks really good compared to the usual Dr Miracle packaging. The entire range pretty much has every product you would need for a complete regimen but I decided to purchased the Rehydrating Shampoo, Nourishing Conditioner and the Soft Hold Creme. I also wanted to buy the Weightless Moisturising Creme but they did not have any in stock (It is quite difficult to get as I looked at different clicks stores and still out of stock).

The product smells really good and I couldn't wait to get it into my hair. Starting off with the shampoo, I loved the feeling on my hair and the smell was divine. It has a menthol scent which can be felt on the skull, you know, the tingly kind of feeling? After rinsing my hair I was delighted that my hair was not stripped which is great for me. I do not shampoo but cowash my hair because most shampoos strip my hair of its moisture. My hair totally loved this shampoo and it is for keeps.

After rinsing my hair and gently towel drying it, I put a fair amount of the Nourishing Conditioner on my hair. I normally stay between 15 and 20 minutes with my conditioner but this experience was quite uncomfortable. The tingling hair on my sculpt was unbearable. I know some people who would love the feeling but it is not for me. I really need to find a way to bear it out if I am to continue using this conditioner. After rinsing, I quickly forgot about my tingling woes as my hair felt awesome.

The Hold Creme is meant to be applied while hair is wet and is designed to hold and define curls. I applied a fair amount on my hair (it is very thick so use sparingly) from root to top. My twist out was defined and my hair looked healthy and felt soft.

PS: While I was twisting my hair, I noticed cute tinsy winsy curls, you know, the kinky kinda curls? I know this could mean something big to someone out there. But they look super cute.
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These products are for keeps and I am glad I stumbled across them.

NB: Images courtesy of the internet

@malebosays