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Showing posts from 2015

On The Flip Side

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So some of the feedback on one of my previous articles came from a man who asked that I inspect the flip side of the ‘Beijing’ notion of 50/50 gender equity. Damsels in Distress published in the Swazi News on November 14, 2015 focused on calling out the men who take advantage of the so-called independent woman, the dead-beat baby daddys and husbands who short-change women by neglecting their responsibilities. That article was also a call to action; encouraging women who find themselves tied to such men to lose the shackles, as my observation is that some of us women get so caught up in keeping up with the Jones’ that we cover up for these undeserving losers and subsequently get ourselves into deeper trouble – debt and depression - because women will always hustle to keep their household in order.  But as with everything else, there is a flip side as rightly pointed out by the reader and I have also raised this in other platforms before. We, the women of today are at times equal

Hands off Caster

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So last week Olympian Caster Semenya wedded her long time steady Bae Violet and all the lovers of hate crimes went rabid? Skawara Caster; the squad and I are here for you like we are there for each other every chance we get-together like kaDezember. So, December mornings at kaLanga – the rural place I call my home – are like Ezulwini Valley afternoons to a tourist – sundowners with a slice of simple but insightful conversation with locals. So that morning, the boys and I, like a well-oiled machine, we were rolling in banter. Mazwe had the podium. Mazwe is a mineworker in South Africa’s North West province. He was sharing memories of his first few days in SA; the truck loads of money he suddenly had at his disposal, the never-ending entertainment which he could surprisingly afford… Just like the night he spent buying drinks by the dozen for this gorgeous woman he had met at the pub that night. His new-found mineworker friends were even jealous of him. They kept asking; ‘What d

Inability is Our Disability

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In 2005, at age 26, I met and fell in love with a man who impressed upon my life immensely. This man’s spirit of purposefulness, his abilities towards self-development and the advancement of others were extraordinary. He was married to Nonhlanhla. They had one child – a girl. He had built this small family of his a three-bedroom house complete with its own study and library using his own bare hands. He also used the study to conduct marriage counseling sessions because he was passionate about the institution of marriage too. When we met, he was in the process of writing a book titled ‘Dignified by Indignity’. Not a big deal you would think. Probably not, except Joshua Simelane from Maliyaduma was blind since age two. He was 32 years-old when I first met him in 2005. He had great ambitions of ensuring that the needs of all people living with disabilities were integrated into the day-to-day Swazi lifestyle and culture, starting with education at the University of Swaziland where he h

Our Lethal Pull Her Down Syndrome

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The other morning, on a Saturday, I was minding my own bae business and preparing to water my lawn and veggie garden when I heard a voice greet me in a whisper. It came from my neighbor’s balcony. So I looked up and hesitantly acknowledged her greeting and stayed gazed at her to say ‘What do you want?’ She starred back, hurriedly looked sideways and to the horizon, over her shoulder and then back at me. This time my facial expression was in capital letters “What do you want FROM ME?”  She repeated the same indecisive body movements. I was confuzzled – firstly neighbors in this part of the world don’t greet neighbors just for the just... nje ! We don't have time. Secondly, I consider greetings by strangers a nuisance.  So, you can imagine how at that moment I was hating my nameless neighbor (I honestly don’t know her name) for disturbing my emotions with her rubbish greeting. As I carried on with my chores, she whispered again. This time it was worse because she’d ad

Damsels In Distress

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I know, I should be joining the rest of the region in dedicating all my energies to praying for the rains to fall and end this devastating drought, but I can’t. I have to get his off my chest first because it’s of equal national importance and urgency. Here’s the thing; it’s either men cannot count or women had no business taking Additional Mathematics lessons in high school because now we’re not in sync when it comes to adding a simple sum based on only two numbers - 50/50. The other day my friend went to the movies with her children. She came back mad. As hell. Mad because her lover of two weeks had invited himself to the outing and the end result was my friend exceeding her budget for the evening. She had never before experienced such a man - a man who not only expected her to pay for his movie ticket and pizza but also had the audacity to invite himself knowing full well that he would not pay for his entertainment… even when requested to do so. And this is a grown man with ga

Of Future Visions and Youth Dearth

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To read from a national newspaper that the Minister of Sports, Culture and Youth Affairs, David ‘Cruiser’ Ngcamphalala, failed dismally to explain what programs his ministry has to address the growing scourge of drug abuse amongst young people was disappointing. But certainly not surprising. At all. To read of such unapologetic incompetence five days before the continent collectively commemorated Africa Youth Day on November 1 was discouraging and sad, but again, not surprising. I mean, we are in the year of our Lord two thousand and fifteen, where globally, most cabinet ministers and politicians (un)worthy of our tax are using all available communication platforms to reach their target audiences with relevant messaging in real time – twitter, Facebook, Instagram, flicker etc. Yet our beloved Cruiser has absolutely zilch information to share about existing interventions for this significant segment of the population, not even to share with his own colleagues in parliament. The q

Privilege Must Fall

What I appreciate about the process of growing up is that one is perpetually forced to refer to the past in order to make sense of the present and what lies ahead. The recent mass revolt against annual high tuition fee increases by tertiary students in South Africa is goose-bump inspiring to say the least. For me, it brings to light, once again, multilayered questions and concerns that have often plagued my thoughts over the past few years of my mental metamorphosis. These thoughts have led me to conclude for instance, that my money will not pay for my child to go through private school. In fact, I would rather he goes through public schooling. People often gasp in disbelief when share this thought with them. This is the same disbelief some expressed when I said I would a deliberate effort to teach my son to speak only siSwati and other African indigenous languages before he attempts the English language. I acknowledge the incredulity expressed by others over my views on pr

AmaBlacks!!! Chant Down Xenophobia

I wrote this note seven years ago. Seven years later…we’re still here - the more things change, the more they stay the same. I’m one of the people who are asking what our leaders and government have done since 2008 to address the hatred for black Africans that culminates in violence. But what have AY done besides add to the future problem by giving birth to a South African child? Future problem because I see my child, 20years from today, somewhere in Mozambique or Ethiopia where he will be exploring and probably living his dream after working hard in school and community, having to deal with the raw anger of his peer who grew up without a father because he was burnt to death in South Africa, by South Africans… --------------------------------------------------------------------------- Even though the day marked Africa day 2008 celebrations in South Africa, if you had ever asked me what I would be doing on Saturday May 24th 2008, being in a rally,(in Jozi even) would have been t