Reeva Is No Intruder!

The article below is entirely based in the authors opinions and intends no inclination or prejudice for or against any person or group.


 Last week, 07 March 2014, marked an end of week-1 to a trial that has once again made South Africa a global spectacle in just a third month of mourning Nelson Mandela. Once again, a country with a fascinating story to tell makes global headlines as flocks of rapt journalists from all over the world jet into the African homeland to cover yet another international marvel’s life chapter. The only difference this time around, is that South Africa is telling a story unlike that of Madiba.

 

2013- In a globally acclaimed day of love, Valentine’s Day, a South African sprint runner and Paralympian- Oscar “Oz” Pistorius, (age 27), became the world's greatest subject of interest after killing his celebrity sweetheart and model, Reeva Steenkamp, in cold-blood. This dreadful occurrence left many in a pitch of startling scepticism and wonder of what could have possibly led a perceived halcyon and heroic Pistorius to killing his lover. In such bewilderment, the very same week Reeva died, our world champion explained himself as having accidentally mistook Steenkamp, with whom he shared a bed the very same night, for an intruder. It is then that Pistorius’ identity changed from "hero" to "murder suspect" as he gave February 14th a new meaning of difference and Reeva Steenkamp, a new identity- the deceased. To the Steenkamp family, a striking reality of never seeing their beloved Reeva’s smile, remains too much a burden to bear. Oscar Pistorius gets charged with murder- a subsequent gathering of evidence begins in a preparation of a legal battle in 2014, to proove his 'innocence'.

2014- South Africa's trial of mystery takes off. Analysts, Advocates, Reporters and Judges in their buoyancy are witnessed walking towards the same direction as they seek to unpack the mystery of what could have possibly transpired in Pistorius’ home in the night of February 14. Pistorius once again takes global spotlight but this time around, his life depends on it.




 Hither to, the trial has offered both the prosecution and defence an opportunity to present their pleas before the court. The opening statements of both parties proved that this trial will not take a period less than a month. In the coming weeks, a rank of witnesses will join the witness stand and face the austere cross-examination of Advoc Berry Roux who in the past week launched his attempt in defence to prove Pistorius, an innocent victim of circumstances. In this court room, the world got to learn that Oscar Pistorius "screams like a WOMAN". It is in this very same court room, that justice in its fickleness is ought to take its course and give the Steenkamps either redress or anguish. The trial will dissect all facts and presented evidence that led Reeva Steenkamp’s body to a lifeless-tagged-corpse at the morgue, which unfortunately, in its silence, gallons of truth about what really happened remain trapped.

Hypothesis, Delusions, Facts, Assumptions and Interogation will be the order of the season as the defence continues in its quest to invalidate the evidence offered by witnesses. Roux will continue scrutinizing the sequence of alleged screams, door-bangs, gun-shots and blood-spats which will eventually; complete the conundrum in its due realism. For as long as this series progresses, Reeva Steenkamp’s death will remain just a deadly error and nothing of a femicide statistic.

Of witnesses and neighbours, all four -- Michelle Burger, Estelle van der Merwe, Charl Johnson and Johan Stip, lies is a common denominator, that they all heard loud bangs which they insist were gun shots.

Roux shocks the court in his first assertion that when Pistorius screams, he sounds like a woman. There are some chuckles in court, but later that turns out to be a critical part of the defense.

Earlier, the prosecution, Adv Gerry Nel admitted that indeed there were no eye witnesses to the killing. The state then brough two unrelated gun charges against Pistorius.

One that a gun went off in a crowded restaurant when he was holding it. Another of when he fired a gun out a sun roof in irritation of a police argument he just had about his gun.

Amongst many questions, one of Pistorius having an anger problem and another of constantly using his gun to release tension at the tip of his anger, remain a critical part of this trial.

The last witness of the week was Pieter Baba, a security guard who was on duty the night Reeva was killed. After receiving calls from tenants who complained about hearing gunshots coming from the Pistorius house, he and another colleague decided to go and find out. Speaking on the phone to Pistorius on their way, Baba says, Pistorius himself said, "Security, everything is FINE" but because Baba heard that Pistorius wasn't in his normal state, he went to investigate despite. He arrived just in time to see Pistorius carrying Reeva's dead body down the stairs.

Another question surfices, what exacty did Pistorius mean by FINE and by moving the body from its initial position, did he perhaps have an alternative plan? What was Pistorius going to do with Steenkamp's body?

In the coming weeks, more and more will continue to unfold as details of this case lay bare in state of examination.


Amidst these progressions though, let me atleast introduce you to an angle that seems to take no precedence in the course of this trial.

In his statement, Oscar Pistorius claimed the shooting was an accident in which he misidentified beloved Reeva for an intruder. That version and portion of his statement brings a different allusion altogether in this incident. Moreover, it presents a third party that appears to have been present right from the beginning of this horror.

A supposed man, rapist, murderer or thief that remains a devilish villain and serious life threat in this episode, is still highly questionable. Who is this intruder Pistorius refered to, what race is he and why would he mistake him for Reeva? Which beast is this that would mislead a man of veneration like Pistorius into an unconscious state of reaching for his pistol around 2:00am; shoot through the bathroom door and do the unthinkable? How desperate was Oscar to gun down and destroy this creature? The intent was clear, despite who was behind that door, and it was to find a dead body in a pool of blood after those four bullets. WHO? is the question.

Let us then ignore the possibility of him having pre-meditate the murder of his darling, model Reeva and use our own assumption in an attempt to identify this supposed ‘intruder’ who is at fault for Reeva’s death.

• Oscar lived in Silverwoods Estate, a highly secured gated community with no past crime or violence record which could have led to his unthoughtful actions. It is the elite that encompass the majority of residents in this area.
• He spends two days in the same house as Steenkamp in what is believed to have been a romantic quality time in.
• Hypothetically, Oscar wakes up at 2: am, hears movements in the bathroom, puts on his blades, takes his pistol, resolutely walks towards the bathroom door and begins his shooting spree. How natural of a midnight progression.
• Neigbours report the gun shots, security calls the Pistorius house and Oscar Pistorius says "...Everything is FINE". How exactly?
• Did it cross Pistorius’ mind that the disruptive being who woke him up from his sleep could have been his girlfriend using the toilet?
• Why would Pistorius think of a pistol half asleep in the early hours of the morning? Was this a habitual practise?
• When he fired bullets to the supposed bogeyman through the bathroom door, three with no pause in between and the fourth one that went right through Reeva's head, finishing her, didn't he hear Steenkamp's screams?
• Can we perhaps assume that this ‘intruder’ whom Oscar was after could be in his psychological cosmos?
• How much of a coincidence is this sequence of events to happen in one night?
• How frightening was this supposed intruder, to have led Pistorius into firing four bullets at a close range through a bathroom door without realising what he was doing?
• Lastly, what Reeva doing with her cellphones? Was she desperately calling for help or was she in a phonecall with somebody else?
  
  

The ruthless-life-threatening intruder Pistorius is talking about, does indeed exist. In reality, he has always been in his house day and night. Pistorius himself has always been aware of his private trepidation. This man, who continues to walk freely without charge, has a name, a history, an identity and he is; BLACK CRIMINAL- a blood thirsty scavenger that continues to torment the lives of many white South Africans. He has famously claimed precedence in many white executed murders in this country and nobody has ever bothered to go after him. The only difference though is that this man of terror operates invisibly, dwells in the subconscious state and leads many of his victims into a condition of acting without thinking all in the name of self-defence.

The following are some but few reported cases of white victimisation by BLACKS in 2012/13.

• A white teenage girl was brutally raped to death by BLACK killers. Tanya Flowerday, 18, was found dumped on a grassy verge of a Darrenwood, Randburg street hours after her death, - but it took five days for her body to be identified, so torn to shreds and battered was her body.

• In Gordon's Bay near Cape Town, another elderly, helpless white woman was brutally beaten to death by BLACK killers. Pensioner Anna Myburgh was killed in her home inside a security complex on Wednesday by intruders who locked the house from the inside before fleeing through a bathroom window.

• Another white farmer was brutally murdered by BLACK killers. Koos Terblanche, 52, from the Trentham district near Betlehem in the Orange Free State, was tied up by two armed blacks, who then proceeded to slash his throat. He was found lying in a pool of blood in his bath by his domestic worker on Monday afternoon.

• In Brits in the western Transvaal, another young couple, presumably white, was also attacked by armed BLACKS. In the latest incident, the 18-year-old girl, who was sitting with her 19-year-old friend on the back of a bakkie on the bank of the Crocodile river, was brutally gang-raped by three BLACKS, who took turns while one held up the young man with a fire-arm. In the end, the attackers took the bakkie's radio, a cell-phone and 50 Rand.

• On a plot in Midrand, between Johannesburg and Pretoria, a group of armed BLACKS overpowered an elderly white couple, beat them with a sjambok till the husband passed out, and then shot the woman in the head. After the barbaric attack, the black robbers loaded up the couple's car with household goods and drove off. The victims were eventually found and taken to hospital, where the woman is in a critical condition, and her husband has been severely traumatised.

Presumably, this is the current state of our country and the reality of black-white relations. All these reports specify the identity of their victimisers and they are all black. Perhaps whites really do live in spat fear of white genocide in South Africa.


Lets create a scenario; A white old woman who comes across a black man in a park, its just the two of them. She is mostly likely to react this way-: grin, clench her handbag tight and from a distance her silent prayer for help remains even more visible as she gets closer to this man. Is she driven by black hatred, NO! She is driven by fear.

White South Africans really do fear for their lives and many are leaving the country as a result. So what could be the motivation behind this supposed white genocide fear?

In 2013, a shocking campaign for the exclusive, RED OCTOBER, made it to the shores. As provoking as it may, it however painted a picture of a racial war within a democratic structure.


There is absolutely no distinct justification for murder whether it’s racially motivated or not. Every human being has a right to life. I am however concerned about many white South Africans who in each day of their lives survive in fear of a vicious black murderer.


South Africa has a vicious cycle of racial hatred. Prior 1994 blood-spats, shooting sprees and many other forms of ruthless execution were launched by a white folk to torment blacks. Blacks feared for their lives. In actual fact, for centuries, a white man remained the black man’s worst nightmare. Post 1994, a white civilian fears for their life in this South Africa. Blacks are their apparent source of fear and as a result, they continue to act impromptu in a claim to protect themselves. So clearly there is an unhealthy culture of revenge and bitterness between these extreme racial groups.


The big question then is; Does Crime Have Race in SA? Is it only blacks who are initiators of hijacking, rapes and house break-ins? Bearing in mind ofcourse that they made 80% of the population.


For how long will this black villain occupy the psychological cosmos of a white man?

The reality that a black man who, for centuries survived the wicked intentions of a white man, remains fearless amidst such contraventions, Yet, a white man somehow feels threatened for life in just 20-years of democracy, raises concerns. How distorted is this picture? The poor element of trust and unsafety leaves much to be desired here and the unanswerable question of whether the race demon will ever be exorcised echoes even more.


And so Pistorius’ trial continues, hopefully as events unravel, and cross-examination proceeds, a possibility of a bigger room for thought will ascend.

Why I disapprove of Marie Claire's 'NAKED' issue.

AGANG Mamphele weds Polygamist husband, DA

It wasn’t long ago when South Africa’s political virgin, former activist, academic and now newlywed Mamphele Ramphele held the country at halt when she surprisingly gave birth to a political baby, AGANG. Although many were not sure of what to make of this sudden addition to our already chaotic political family, this babe-in-arms somehow proved to be of difference and erected much excitement to many citizens after Ramphele publicly announced that she will be contesting the upcoming 2014 elections. Professionals, Academics, Business Executives and Born Frees saw this as a salvation plan to their toil of indecisive political thoughts.  Like any fine-looking virgin, AGANG immediately became a new target with old bulls (COPE and ANC) drooling behind her for a moment away - but rumours of her getting married to any old party were shuttered by her famous words, “I am NOT a joiner but a change agent…”

 

TODAY, less than 12-months after this grand formation, we wake up to striking headlines; “Mamphele joins DA”. A moment of sheer silence and amazement for many South Africans, to some a reality of hope crumbling right infront of their eyes in wonder of when dear mama started being a ‘Joiner’.  “How could this be? How could she? Where does this leave us” are some of the unanswered questions roaming in many South African’s minds. The shocking revelation that Ramphele could have possibly lured many into a promise that will never materialise is difficult to digest.

Does this mean she knew along where her loyalties were but wanted to drag many with to her union of unholy matrimony? Is this what she meant when she said "The name of Agang SA party will be confirmed, modified or changed through the consultation process."?  It seems like Ramphele was the modern version of a walking messiah who spoke in conundrums and expected to be understood in whatever she said or referred to. The question of her naivety echoes even more after this sudden revelation. Where does this leave the abandoned new-born then?

The Democratic Alliance on the other side has a kept record of swallowing party structures, slip them in like a serpent, phase them out and clear their identity completely. First it was the Independent Democrats (ID) who in August 2010, neglected their political identity and moved in with Madam Hellen in the mighty DA mansion.

Following that were other political personas who found the idea of joining the DA ranks much appealing for reasons known to them only. Nosimo Balindlela who was also labelled a “political vulture”, in 2013, vacated her COPE office for benefits of comfort within the DA. Today, we witness the Ramphele+DA marriage. What could the DA be promising these prominent leaders for them to easily forsake all they stood for to be disciples of Sheperd Hellen? It is no doubt that Hellen is morethan just rosey chicks and abysmal dance moves; she has proven to be quite a charmer to these black mistresses .

This however can be viewed as a strategic acquisition for the DA to bolster its black support . Lindiwe Mazibuko, Nosimo Bhalindlela and Mamphele Ramphele are proof that the DA is desperate to swallow the black masses before elections and in the process remain  being the strongest opposition if not the ruling party post  2014 elections. The question of the possibility of such transformation remain dubious as the DA is currently running at a loose of supporters with in the Western Cape following the service delivery protests in 2013.

Like before, we remain in question of whether this marriage of convenience will survive. They say there can only be one bull in a kraal and evidently Ramphele is no submission lady or so we think.

Insights however continue to differ amongst citizens. To many the ANC reminds them of how Jacob Zuma built his luxury harem in iNkandla, with its swimming pool, helipad, electric fence for his herd of cattle and that bunker for him to hide with millions of taxpayer’s money, in the aftermath of his myriad failures in leadership. As much as they love the party, the idea of Zuma being a part of its leadership defeats their interest.

To some though, this is possibly a game changer. Another view could be- Within this alliance/ platform/ acquisition, lie all the right credentials that can actually appeal to a wide margin of people. It has a nice alignment, because they seem to all have goal congruence and as such have more in common than the people sitting within the ANC, which is believed to be a "broad church", which constantly devours itself from conference to conference because each grouping has a different agenda.

Furthermore, it’s quite possibly the first time we can say that a party is a "rainbow party". As you know the colours of the rainbow actually complement one another (as this grouping seems to do), and do not seek to overpower one over the other, or even repel. Another question though is whether   the "Federal Alliance" within the DA supports this with their wallets?

Amidst all the unanswered questions and confusion, personally I still believe that the time has come for all those with influence - in Education, Sport, Film & Radio, Business & Industry to come out - selflessly and very vocally - and stand firmly behind any party that embraces an idea of a new South Africa. This country desperately needs clear, decisive, intelligent, selfless leadership to ensure that the South Africa Mandela fought so hard for realises its potential and its people are given economic equality where each and every person can aspire to and acquire an education, the opportunity to work in a safe environment and to leave the world a better place for their children. All this is possible but it needs a mind-set change at the Ballot Box come elections. Each and every South African needs to think about what is best for the country and who will deliver it. The ANC government who has now been in power for 20 years OR a party brought together with the mind-set of changing the failures of this government, realising and delivering the opportunities that are tangible and within the reach of each and every ordinary South African.

Indeed this is a game changer, this turns the voting table into another direction of new possibilities and whatever the outcome is, as citizens we are the ultimate decision makers. We are the ones who put them in power; we are also the ones who remove them when they no longer serve us.

There is little that we can conclude on as we are still fumbling in election guesswork and nothing much. But as we move towards the great event, I would encourage every citizen to start engaging in matters affecting the future of our country. In taxes, buses, hospitals, schools, let’s create a national dialogue that will challenge convictions of those who are or to assume power. This is just the beginning of much ahead.

I hope you are ready!

The Unheard Voice of Umakhwapheni.

Sexual infidelies are one of many features contributing towards the dysfunctional structure of our society and demoralisation of the marriage-family institution as a whole. In a nutshell, one can reach a careless conclusion that almost all marriage or relationship failures, atleast 90%, are as a result of irresponsible sexual behaviour or adultery of one partner between the two. Yet nobody has ever bothered to hear the mistress’s side of the story. Over the summer holidays I was fortunate enough to come across a “brave side-chick” who in a way managed to unravel the unknown yet very much abhorred mystery behind transactional relationships.

 Umakhwapheni, Side-chick, Mistress, 250, Flex-lady, iNkazana, Cheque madam, Third-leg and so the list the goes on. We have branded them with names and have passionately lived to either hate or love them- they are that third unknown lady in that relationship or marriage who is always blamed for the male partner’s unfaithfulness yet she remains unknown in all her operations. It bothered me to realise that I, like many others have never heard this mysterious character’s side of the story. The Why, How, What and Wheres.

 On this Saturday evening, my opinion gets challenged oncemore as I meet with lady, Precious Mazibula, Age 25, Kwazulu-Natal born  (original identity changed to protect individual) who out of her own will decides to unpack the lifestyle of a side-chick and narrate her life journal to me of how she ended up in her imperilling life situation.

Precious is one of over a thousand hopefuls who flock into Johannesburg yearly in a quest for a better living. She left her poverty stricken home in Eskhawini; Kwazulu-Natal to pursue her Sound Engineering studies in the city of gold, where dreams are lived and opportunities limitless. In her second year of studies, her father, a farm-worker who was also a bread winner at home unfortunately passed away. This to Precious meant, she had to look for alternative funding to cover her tuition or else drop her studies and go back to be a liability to her almost 50 year old sickly mother who was now a widow and guardian to her 5-year old son.

After finding herself between the devil and the deep blue sea, she decided to use the little skill she had acquired by playing in local gigs around Jozi- this is where she met Nimrod aka Dj Ooze (original identity changed to protect individual) a renowned money maker who is known by the whole of South Africa and celebrated by many for being a success in the much male dominated Dj community.  “It all started with a one night stand. I was naïve I know but he was exactly what I needed at the time. I knew of many girls who wanted Nimrod and never had a chance. I saw an opportunity and I used it” said shameless Precious. This was the beginning of her ‘lights out’ life- that first night was a doorway to her anonymously becoming a part of the infamous DJ’s life who at the time was all over tabloids and gossip columns celebrating his newly wed wife. That to Precious meant absolutely nothing as she, according to her, knew her place and had no business interfering in Nimrod’s domestic affairs.

By now, our conversation was getting closer to the core and I had to be very sensitive in how I handled her, the trick was to assure her of my trust and make her as comfortable as possible. With that being achieved, she continued to divulge details of this private ‘love’ affair.  A rail of questions came to mind and I could not help but wonder how this affair benefited her financial ordeal. She then disclosed a huge sum of money that was apparently deposited to her account as a first of many tokens of ‘appreciation’ to follow for being ‘a good girl’. When asked how she reacted to this, she responded; “At first I was shocked, then I decided to keep calm because I had never told him of my situation. He just kept it coming. So who am I to stop a generous man?” (chuckles). It became clear to me that Precious had calculated her moves very well; she did have an idea of what she had gotten herself into and decided to enjoy the transactional side of it.

How can a supposedly well groomed KZN girl end up in this disgraceful situation? How dare you Precious! Didn’t she have other choices? Isn’t she ashamed of being a marriage wrecker? Does she have no shame? These are some of few selfish questions that were bubbling from my judgemental inner self but I had to quiet them and learn to contain myself as something authentic in this lady kept me longing for more. I set there as she unloaded details of many other nights and how she continued to live off the married Dj’s pocket. I couldn’t help but wonder though if she was aware of the possibility of her sharing this man with many other girls. To my surprise she knew that Nimrod didn’t belong to her and could leave her for another Precious any day, any time. Clearly, this young lady had sold her soul to the devil game and swallowed her conscience in the process.

I am not sure if you are aware that Precious wants nothing to do with Nimrod’s wife. She doesn’t want to end his marriage with the beloved wife. She also said nothing about wishing to wear the Mrs hat. No! Yet, society will blame her should this affair come to the public. Chances are she will be victimised and Nimrod will smooth talk his way to forgiveness. No one will know her story. She will be remembered as the immoral KZN young woman who destroyed what was once built in wonderful matrimony. No one is interested in her story.

I hope you are not under the impression that I am condoning neither Precious nor Nimrod’s lifestyle, this far my opinions don’t matter much. Statistics have proven though that within the human species, females dominate their male counterparts in numbers. Could this mean, females will at some point share a male companion? If not, how will this population imbalance be met then? I wondered in silence if dear Precious knew of other side-chicks who were also in the same game as her. Although she didn’t give much details as I could see from her body language that she was reaching her point of discomfort, in a way she did hint of how rapid this lifestyle is amongst many girls in Johannesburg. So, where are the madams then? Did Nimrod ever talk about his precious wife to dear Precious? Well, he did and this is what he had to say about his darling wife; “I love her. She is my wife but too dignified and less adventurous for my needs. There are things she wouldn’t agree to do. Things you would do with such pleasure [referring to Precious]…”.Could this then mean Nimrod jumped the infidelity line because the wife was incompetent in her position or did he just prefer variety? Wouldn’t it be unfair to blame all of this on Precious?  Would I be biased towards the wife if I said anyone would strive to satisfy his needs with a fat pay cheque waiting in the far end? What can one make of this situation?

Surprisingly,  when I questioned Precious if she was aware of how she has exposed herself to sexually transmitted diseases, she responded by saying, “Ofcourse I am aware of that… but who isn’t going to die? The only difference is that I might die of a disease whilst you might die of tragedy”. This to me was a veil removal moment. It was revealed at that very point how poverty and lack had driven this potential future leader to opening herself to a possibility of dying before her time just to put bread on her table. I couldn’t help but wonder how many girls in Johannesburg had chosen this path. It could be my sister, your niece or daughter. I shuddered as reality was in my door area- I then realised that much is happening in our society that we are completely ignorant to. I couldn’t help but put myself in her shoes and wonder if I could’ve been a better person facing the same situation. Could I? The truth of the matter is, there is always a choice. Precious also had a choice and each one would have led to different consequences. Perhaps you are thinking, she could have looked for a job. But have you realised how easy we say one must look for a job yet knowing how difficult it is to get a decent job in these recessionary times? I am neither supporting nor bashing Precious here but I am opening your mind to a whole lot of possibilities we never consider.

One thing I know for sure is that adultery or cheating are unjustifiable wrongs but how to draw a summary in this context remains a mystery to me.  Incase you are wondering what happens to Precious, well she continues living the unknown night life as she banks from the ‘generous’ man’s pocket and send money home to her mom and son. Granted an opportunity though, she would love to live a decent life and further her studies as she had initially planned.  But life gave her lemons and she made a recipe out of them. That Is her reality and a reality of many other woman who are living in shame because of how judgemental we have become as society, how we have turned a blind eye towards men like Nimrod in our communities or of how well accepted men infidelities are.

To the dear wife, I can’t help but worry about your state in this situation. It saddens me that you remain faithful yet so exposed at the same time.  Chances are you might never be aware of the life you have lived unknowingly. They say the two become one right? I also feel pity when you call the other woman, Precious, names because she, like you was pursued by your man. Can’t you see the pattern here? Can’t you see how ashamed she is beyond that brave smile and careless attitude? Wait, did you even pay attention to her?  It could be your sister of daughter for all I know and you would never know.  That short revealing dress and heavy make-up should tell you something about her broken self. Yes, she is a side-chick and I am not asking you to befriend her but before you go to her house and attach her, before you embarrass her in public, take a pause and ask yourself if you have considered paging her Chronicles because like you, she is a victim.

To all side-chicks living and enduring life out there because of your inescapable life conditions, sisters be strong but know this, there is always a way out. That choice to walk away is still there. It’s all up to you. In all you do, consider the consequences. It’s not me wishing you bad luck, it is just a life principle- every action has consequences, whether good or bad.

To my brothers, the Nimrods out there, I will not say much. As you continue to widen the circle, remember this; there will come a point where the circle is too wide for you to manage and within that will fall your daughter. Her reasons for tagging along will be different all together but because of your emotional absence, she will need affection from other men like you to fill that void. You choose.

To you reading, as I learn, I hope you also learn to look at each situation from all possible sides before drawing conclusions. Society has such double standards and it takes a special eyes to see right through it. I hope you get that special eye.

The jumbled mind-set of a Born-Free.

January 17th, roughly a few months before SA national elections take place, the majority of voters are still occupied with thoughts of uncertainty, antagonism and discontent with the current state of our country and by large, the administration of governance. As a 25-year old civilian and liberal I couldn’t care less about the infinite opinions towards our government and how ruthless the politics play ground has become. What petrifies me the most is what is viewed as the cynical and naïve mind-set of my peers that has oddly transformed them into critics of note towards the current government fiascos. Their qualified opinions are believed to have strangely alienated them from becoming active in socio-economic transformation and  blinded them from the much upfront reality of upcoming elections. Suprisingly though, none of the inventors of this notion have attempted to live for a moment in the exclusive world of born-frees.

Voluntarily, I took it upon me to engage with a couple of these youths who have effortlessly given up on the South African dream.  During some of the dialogues I hosted with natives from different walks of life, I was confronted with a loud alarming knockdown of how disinterested and disappointed the youth of this country is in our government. To them an answer to the ‘What Is going to Change?’ question remains concealed within some of many answers  our government has failed to provide.  The core of their reasoning is how they have been practically excluded by government which then according to them justifies their offhand attitude towards a leadership that neglects their views and voices. Having said all, what unplugged me now and again from the heat of these dialogues was how prepared they were not to cast their vote at all. Bluntly, they couldn’t careless who wins and who doesn’t- to them it’s another event in a new year and nothing beyond that. How the result of these elections is going to affect them is none of their concerns.

 This led me to a fetter of endless questions about government in conjunction with the views of these capable future leaders. Somehow I zoned into memory lane and thought of the youths of generations before me who in their collective sacrificed the very essence of their being towards a struggle that aimed at liberating the youth of my time.  The cries of Steve Biko and how if alive, would stiffen in disbelief of how soon we have forgotten and seem to have thrown the towel in silence echoed in my mind. I questioned myself and in my imaginative wondered if the future will really be a better place than today. I couldn’t hold together the groan in my voice and the puzzle in my mind- to me being in my youth today is far more than a privilege, it is a blessing, it is a dream come true to the one freedom of a black child seemed like a dreamlike possibility, and it is an achievement to the one whose goal was to seek equality and freedom for a black child of my time. To think that TV Soaps, fashion trends and gossip columns make better sense to born frees than the current and future state of our country, let alone the details but the framework itself, numbs me. There seems to be no motivation at all for political activity.

 After my surreal moment with reality, I had to sober up and look at possibilities that could be contributing towards this sheer ignorance. It is no doubt that our government has done a remarkable work over the years in plastering transformation and clearing the wide footprints that were left by the ruthless monster that fed from bloodshed and oppression of anti-whites for centuries. We ought to first acknowledge and appreciate that before anything. However, it is also a saddening reality that in years closer to the 20-year celebration of our democracy, corruption has thriven and ignorance of many cries of our nation has prevailed.

Inkandla Fund is one of many scandals that have injected venom to our spanking new born baby- Democracy and untidily left a devastating after effect to many citizens. Amongst many of these scandalous episodes was the staggering delivery of textbooks where civilian’s enquiries were silenced with a dark tape of ‘no account’. Following that, the NYDA also took a share of publicity with an ordeal  that surrounded mismanagement of funds whereas prior to that our space was unexpectedly invaded by visitors, the Guptas and even then, nobody bothered to account- it was all  his and hers till silence.

 Eventhough these episodes might have been a result of poor leadership by a few individuals, to ordinary citizens who by the way  voted in this government, it seemed like a deliberate chain of negligence by the ANC.  In as much some might argue and say the ANC is an organisation not an individual, the reality is those individuals are decision makers and hold directive of where this nation is heading. The ignorance and insult of our intelligence by the government whilst attempting to give account for these happenings left many thoughtful of the idea of voting-in an alternative government. It all seems like we are told what is assumed by whoever plays the guitar to be proper information for the public and not the truth. One would swear that our government lives by the ‘Feed Them Lies Till They Drop’ policy. This whole catastrophe, defiled the initial purpose of our; ‘The People Shall Govern’ constitutionally driven democracy. It shouldn’t have come to this, we shouldn’t be talking like this at all, not now, our darling Democracy is far too young for all this but sadly we have arrived.

Frankly, the born frees have been exposed to the dirty laundry of their fathers, who themselves couldn’t care any less. Yes, this Nkandla and Gupta series seemed quite hilarious at some point and we all vented our frustrations on social platforms and communities of engagement but at the end of it all, each one would go back to their individual nest and be consumed by the perturbing thoughts of what tomorrow has in store. Could be it blacks have lost confidence in their own government, the very government they cheered with praises in 1994? Could it be that the beloved ANC our fore-fathers dearly lived and died for has turned against us? What is to make of this?

 The past year was not only flared by scandalous episodes, the nation also saw a couple of political surprises. First, it was the formation of AGANG as led by former activist and academic Mamphele Ramphele who put almost everything at halt with her ‘gangnam style’ announcement of forming a new party  , following that was the controversial birth of EFF by former ANCYL President  who had since been dismissed from the orgisation, Julius Malema. The reaction of the majority of South Africans left much to be desired though. The reception that these parties were given by citizens was a clear indication that the notion of considering an alternative government was sinking in faster than we assumed. Aside from these formations were usual oppositions to the ANC;  COPE and DA who also in their unique way were making their presence sensed. The  possibility that the ANC could be losing supporters is just indigestible.

 Ironically, none of these parties truly considered the stance of born frees in this country. It seems like politicians are ignorant to the fact that a large number of our youngsters will be voting for the very first time this year (in a case where they choose to vote), but somehow that doesn’t seem to tip priority to neither of these parties.

 Although some might disapprove, I too consider myself a bor- free. I started schooling in the new dispensation of  democracy and was never in any direct way subjected to racial laws. The prophesy of doom by those in power today about the reckless and irresponsible leaders  we are going to be in our time can be sequenced with the shaky current state of our leadership. It might or might not come to pass but the unforgettable break outs of the present will indeed affect the future. These Nkandla and Gupta gates will be sins these born frees will have to account for. This daily suffering rand that seems not to bother anyone will be upon the shoulders of the future leadership. Yes, born frees do not seem interested, because corruption and lies do not spell interest at all.

 South Africa is currently tackling endless socio-economic challenges due to decisions that were made centuries and decades ago. The ignorance then by those in power today on the long lasting effects of decisions they make today worries the bottom off these born frees. The questions that quarrel their mind space are; who is going to take over and do what? What will be my role in the then government and what is being done presently to motivate my non-existent political participation?

 The damning  reality though is, if these born frees, who by great opportunity would be casting their votes for the very first time this year decide not to vote, the badge of few political leaders or none whatsoever for the so near  future will be more visible than yesterday. Government needs to consider a more active and relevant training ground that will inspire these youths to spiral political transformation in this country, but again, how is that even possible in a government with youth leagues that hardly interact nor strike relevance to the BBM youth of today? How will then these two powers reach synergy if they come from such extreme schools of thought? Who will teach who and how? The little interaction that seems to take place in June 16 only is not enough to inspire new thought in one’s mind. What will our children’s children live to tell? The story of a hard achieved democracy that landed in the hands of self-absorbed leaders or will they pride themselves of a nation that passed a baton of good governance and exemplary leadership to generations after them? What will be told?

 With the little of time that is left, I do hope that the popular saying that the future of this generation is in its own hands can really hit surface and challenge new thought to our leaders. Lest the prophecy of doom manifests itself.

Are you LIVING or EXISTING?

“Are you Living or Existing…” this line was extracted from one of my all-time favourite movies “A Family that Preys”.  Although this is just a line from another movie as many might think, to me it carries so much sense and in its being inspired me to scribble down the following words.

Of many things that keep me awake at night, the question of whether I will die having fulfilled my purpose and tapped into my destiny tortures me day in and out. Over the past 25-years my life, I have learned that life has no guarantees and that every day is a countdown towards an unknown deadline- I have seen people I loved and cared about die right in front of my eyes without them living to fulfilment that which they were destined to be. I have watched the old die of sudden sickness, infants of unknown diseases and the youth paraded by tragedy- Frankly I have seen death rob the world of souls that were destined for nothing less than greatness, individuals who without doubt were going to be agents of change, influence and healing in this sickly society of ours but sadly they disappeared right in front of our eyes like mist. One of my favourite authors Myles Monroe states that thee richest place you’ll ever find on earth is the cemetery in your neighbourhood where lies unread  books, unsung songs, unheard  multi-billion business concepts and future leaders who were never afforded an opportunity to play their role. This in not so many words echoes the isiXhosa saying that “Isitya esihle asidleli” (the good die young).

With all that reality at our disposal, we somehow still live prolonged lives with postponed agendas as if we have indemnity of how long we are going to live. I am not against the idea of planning but I have a problem with sacrificing the privilege of the present for the unknown and unguaranteed tomorrow. Life is like travelling by bus to a destination known by the driver only. The beauty in this journey though is that in each city or town along the way, you are presented with an opportunity to enjoy yourself, have fun and experience new things. The choice to either enjoy yourself, dance and laugh or silently seat still till destination is all dependent on you.

So the daunting question of whether I am living or just existing deters me from living a life of obscure standards, mediocrity and regret. Whilst I am still here, I choose to be dancing, singing, laughing, influencing and learning on my way to my destination because at the end I will reach a day whether in my youthful glory or in my grey hair and wrinkled face where all that I am and all that makes what I am will shut down and release my soul to the next life- whether ready or not, whether wide awake or fast asleep.

The following are some but few of the people who were dear to me who reached their destination unexpectedly in the joyful days of their youth.

Thabang Mkhwanazi- Believed he was born to be an advocate. A young change maker dedicated to the betterment of his people whom I was privileged to meet in one of the seminars I attended a few years back. In 2013 he unfortunately was mugged, stabbed to death and found mutilated in his neighbourhood days later. He never lived to argue his first case.

Chriselda Williams- A young spirited dreamer who had ambitions to be a radio DJ in one of our national radio stations in South Africa. She was a loving soul who at 23-years was diagnosed with breast cancer- they said it was too late for chemotherapy. She died in her hospital bed five months after her diagnosis 14 April 2010. The airwaves never got a chance to release her sweet voice to the world.  Death silenced her.

Zimkhitha Mayathula- A dear friend to me who was also my classmate at university. She had dreams and ambitions to be a media practitioner like me and others. Like Chriselda  in 2009 she suffered death prematurely after being diagnosed with a rare disease I had never heard of, Lupus. She was ony 24-years. She also died fighting for her life just 2-months after her diagnosis.  She never made it to her first day in the news room.

Nick Govender- An activist and liberal whom I believed was going to a member of parliament someday. I met him during my debating years at university. Whenever I looked at him, I was challenged to be a better person. Did I tell you that in 2009 he was tragically killed whilst driving his new machine just four weeks before his wedding day? He never got a chance to see his beautiful bride walk down the aisle, remove her veil and kiss her rosy lips. He reached his destination before that day.

Nozibele Selela-Nzawumbi- My  dear mother, a career woman who had dreams to see me and my brother grow into remarkable and responsible men. I loved her with all that I am and connected with her in ways I fail to describe- she and I were once connected in her womb and that connection never faded. She died at 29-years in a tragic car accident in 1997. She never got a chance to look one more time, smile one more time, hold her children or even see me on my graduation day. Death decided to brand her Deceased.

Recenty, I was staggered after learning about the tragic death of a dear friend and visionary, Thembi Losi, she drowned whilst on holiday in Mozambique last summer. She was only 22-years old-a recent graduate who left everyone she came across with confidence that the future had capable leaders. In one of her interviews as published by Allan Gray she said; “I will pursue a Master’s Degree in Development and Economics in the United Kingdom or at the Paris School of Economics in France…”   As sad as it is, she never wrote the first line of her Masters dissertation. Death closed her chapter.  

All these remarkable men and woman died in the course of planning for the future. They all lived lives that left a trademark. Even though death surprised them and others who knew them, they had atleast started living. Most of them had already found their purpose and were marching towards dear destiny with it, some had just begun. They all had dreams of a lifetime but suffered violence and sickness in such a few years of their lives.

So while I approach the minute of the unknown I might as well start living and not just exist. When you live, everyday matters, every situation is a lesson and every event is an opportunity to love, smile learn, forgive, embrace, influence and laugh a little bit more.  I have no doubt that God has invested so much in me- so much that the world has not yet seen- I also have no doubt though that He also holds the stopwatch whether I have explored all those investments or not when the time comes it shall be so. His plans are undisputable and His ways mysterious.

Living is acknowledging that life is a privilege, not an entitlement- in that so, it can be taken any minute. You live responsibly and caringly. You cherish the idea of sharing your life with others, try new things and live in the moment.  Have you ever wished you could go sky diving, bungee jumping, Ice skating, Hiking or have worked hard and always wished you could travel the world? Have you ever wished you could just go to a foreign land where nobody knows you and cares about you and LIVE? I have. If so, chances are you haven’t yet lived yet, you have been existing all along.

When I die, I want to die empty and tired like Tata Nelson Mandela. I still want to live, I still want to discover all the treasures my creator has stored in me. As per my name, I want to be a living GIFT to the universe. I want to touch the world, blow kisses to Mother Nature and feel her fresh aroma around me. I want to see ten generations after me and see them set standards for generations after them. I want to be remembered, yes I do, not as a perfect man though but as a creature who knew how to live for a lifetime in a moment despite his imperfect state. I want to be remembered as a young man who tried, concurred, messed up, fell down yet stood up and continued with the journey. I refuse to just exist; every day to me is an opportunity to seize and empty myself to the world.

Whatever plans you have today, whatever future prospects, in whatever you occupy your space with, whatever mission or vision you choose to dedicate your life to, remember to please live for a while because life is nothing but a gift from above.

So once in a while you need to forget about losing your dignity, forget about your job title or class in society, forget all that you have or do not have. Do what makes you happy. Take a road trip to an unknown destination and be on the driving seat this time around, go to a foreign land and learn new ways to life, try new foods, new dances, speak  new languages, meet new love,  laugh till you drop and come back to your routine life- by then you would have atleast attempted to live and not just exist.

While you’re still contemplating about it, remember, tick-talk, tick-talk, tick-talk.

Now tell me, are you LIVING or just  EXISTING?

A trail to '204Me'...

Dear reader,

It’s been so long since we’ve zoned in this sacred space of ours and  it’s been ages since my last hear- to- heart piece on my undying passion to engage on matters that strike sense in our society. I’ve been struggling to think of a better come back to this page as there has been much to write about and little inspiration whatsoever to kick the drive in me. Having said much, 2014 has been branded  a year of limitless possibilities and I amongst many remain a hopeful for open doors to greatness this year- I hope you are also expectant.  Happy New Year!!!

A lot has transpired since my last upload.  Whilst we were gearing up for summer fun in 2013, the unexpected hit the world, the father of the nation and friend to the universe, Tata Nelson Rholihlahla Mandela passed on to be with his creator. It was a heart stroking and very devastating moment for many of us and the world at large, frankly a downing way to end the year. It is then that I witnessed diversification, love, unity and the strength that lies within my fellow South Africans. I had almost forgotten how compassionate and acclaiming we can be as a nation. The last time I had seen such an ambiance was when Madiba became President of SA in 1994. The embrace, ecstasy, optimism and comfort we shared amongst each other as a nation left much to be desired. It is then that I realised how I had taken for granted the struggle fought by those before me to afford a child of my time opportunities that were foreign in their era. For all I know, I could have been raised to believe that the colour of my skin disqualified me of better education, a better well-being and a right to freedom of speech, expression and association.

Following that was the staggering death of a father, friend and husband who also happened to be a close associate to the late Madiba, the legendary boxing champ, Baby Jake Matlala. As if we could swallow more of this bad news, the emotional paralysis from Tata’s passing grew even more. I had all sorts of questions and ‘why’ was the major.  I also realised that life was nothing but a gift and its due course depended on the giver not the receiver and as a receiver of this precious gift, I have to be grateful for every day granted and celebrate each moment in reverence to this privilege. A few hours before the cross over to the new year I learned about the passing of a dear friend and visionary, Thembi Losi, who died tragically in her time away in Mozambique- life proved its unfairness at this point. Then that was the end of my 2013, I rounded it up with Christmas and New Year’s celebrations in KZN and the Eastern Cape with family and friends.

Having relayed all that, 2014 is a brand new year and as per the custom we have all set goals and resolutions to change and improve ourselves and hopefully this year we shall carry and bring them into fulfillment before year-end.  During my break away in the Eastern Cape, I had a lot of time for self-reflection amidst the challenges and lessons I faced in 2013.The fresh serene in the nature bound EC has a way of refreshing my soul and creating space for new ideas and concepts in my mind. I am glad I had this time away from the buzz and endless rush of the city as I came back with enough strength and tenacity to make my dreams come true. 

I have enough determination to work twice as hard compared to the previous years. The funny thing though is that whenever I watch TV, the ‘204Me’ concept by SABC 1 somehow resonates hope and confirmation that this will be a year of breakthrough for me and many others who believe.  I have also come to an understanding that it will an extra-ordinary year which will bring a remarkable change in my life and provide me with opportunities to share more of my life with others. I hope  you are also wearing your running gear as you begin the race to greatness focusing in your own lane in this year.

Short and brief, consider this to be your first 2014 read with many to follow and I can assure you that this blog has much in store for you this year.

Oncemore, as you receive your first dose of Signed, Sealed ad Delivered this year, kindly recieve my well wishes to a victorious new year.

 Happy 204Me!!!

6th Annual SABC Crown Gospel Awards.

Yesterday, 17 November 2013 marked the 6th Annual SABC Crown Gospel Awards and as a devoted follower of this spiritually uplifting genre I had a date with my TV set. Although I found myself switching between the two channels as the South African Sports Awards were airing on SABC 1  exactly the same time,  the Crowns seemed to captivate more of my attention.

Let me start by saying as one who has been a loyal follower of these awards for the past five years, I was very much impressed with the overall production of this year's awards- more especially  having been a LIVE broadcast. The attendance was amazing but again its kwaZulu-naMandiya-Natal and Durbanites sure know how to make a good crowd.
As usual the ceremony commenced at such a high note of perfomances and what better way to set the mood for the evening than to give the stage to my personal laugh-out-loud icon, "Shayizandla Wena" mama Rebecca Malope. As expected, she did not dissapoint- Rebecca needs no treadmil or gym instructor, she's a all in one package. She set the jet off with her traditional rendition of a song I was hearing for the first time but be as it may, she rocked my world. There were times I felt like a Sphumelele Mbambo was jumping out of her bits by bits but the flying stiletto during her perfomance proved me otherwise. She did it the Rebecca way and left me in stitches. Over and above she looked beautiful and I can bid my last dollar that she was dressed by David Tlale- his signature of elegance gave her a glow for the night.

By now, I was expecting nothing but the very best and honestly felt so proud of the Disney Princess- Zanele Mbokazi on her outstanding work in organising such a whoo-ho event. It wasn't until I saw  the hosts that I knew there was more to surprise me through out the night- Thabo Mdluli and Thembi Seete. Whoever came with this idea, deserves a cup of Joko tea. Thabo is a natural, good at what he does and MCing comes naturally to him. As for beautiful Thembi, I just wish a wealthy man can put a huge rock on her finger, buy her a luxurious twelve-floor mansion, get her as many servants and a driver to take her to all the high-class "Madam Tea-Parties" where she will just seat, say nothing and blink her gorgeous eye-lashes off. Nonetheless, like they always say, two is better than one, so the two did a great job as Thabo filled the dots when Thembi had nothing smart to say but to smile.

So the evening advanced as we saw some new faces taking home something to be proud of from Best Church Choir to Best Church Outreach, and that was good for what it stood for.

Amongst other accolades, we saw Umhlobo Wenene FM taking Best Gospel Radio Show, Best Music Video- uJehova Ungibiyele, Best Gospel Producer- Nathi Zungu, Best Traditional Gospel- Lufuno Dagada and to round-up this session was a perfomance by my late grandma's favourite Lusanda 'Guitar' Mcinga joined by Season 1-I Wanna Sing Gospel finalist Kgotso Makgalema. I must say Lusanda seems to be enjoying her comfort share of life but again, she has been around for ages and is still pinning those strings for the run.

Be as it may, I have a few questions about these awards though, with understanding ofcourse that Zanele Mbokazi is the 'President' as appointed by the SABC. The following set my mind, are these really gospel awards like any other or is it one of Zanele's parties where she is the priviledged child who throws her sweet sixteen party, invite her 'in my good books' friends and decide who to reward with a toy depending on how much they danced to her music and carried her Gucci bag around through out the year? Secondly, who decides on the line-up of perfomances? Is it again Zanele's playlist depending on how preety and over the moon she feels on the day? Thirdly, why have these hosted in Durban every year? Johannesburg would be an ideal venue as this KZN thing makes these awards very localised for a national event. I love KZN but this is taking it a bit too far. Now and again I felt like the winners were even afraid to forget  her name (Cindarella) in their thank you speeches as failure to do so would result in them being disowned by the Princess. Mirror-mirror, who is the fairest than them all?

In such a celebration mode, before the grand announcement we saw the audience on their feet as Thobekile took to stage with Akekho Ongavala- mama you did very well. This ofcourse was paving the way for the grand awards, Best Gospel Artist, Best Gospel Song, Best Gospel Male and Best Gospel Female. As expected ICC bowed and there was silence for a moment as the lady in blue went up to announce winners in these categories. I must say I am so proud that Zanele didn't have the Cindarella look this year. She atleast toned down from her usuall glits-jewellery shiny enough to well-lit the whole of ICC incase of a load shedding and ofcourse the white cloves. This year you were lookable my dear Princess.

At this time I was ready to pop some bubbly and celebrate as I had been rooting and voting for two artists in the Best Gospel Artist and Best Gospel Male. Standing in my victory position, the winner was announced and it was...Winnie Mashaba. For a minute I thought had a delusional moment and no I didn't. Winnie danced her way to the stage with her colour blocking singers and they siezed the moment. Because I am an honest being I must say with Ntokozo Mbambo-Mbatha having been nominated in the same category, my money and hope had gone to her, and yes I was dissapointed that she did not win but I had swallow my lump and carry on. Second to that was the Best Gospel Song and Mbize took it home with the whole of ICC storming with excitement as little Dumi went to grab his prize on stage. I was moved as he had his moment of emotion and praise during his thank you speech. All well done Dumi, you deserve, a good come-back I must say. So the Best Gospel Male was announced and Jabu Hlongwane was the winner over Nqubeko Mbatha, it was exactly this minute that I switched over to SABC 1 in disbelief but quickly contained my little tantrum and tuned back again. Baba Jabu couldn't make it to the event but a recording from Zanele's cellphone was played as he had pre-recorded a thank you message. To seal the event was the Best Female and Vicky Vilakazi took it, don't ask me how that came about because I was already speechless by now I took my bottle of bubbly and reserved it for future celebrations.

The event ended in a very dancy note as some Nigerian artist had people dancing their way out. I hope Lundi was not allowed to attend the after party, we all know why. I must also say I was proud to see a bit less of oganza, silk and feather dresses not forgeting shiny suites and sharp pointed shoes from those who attended. We will finally get there, someday, I hope.

As for now though, contuinue to loose that weight, write better songs and consult the fashion police so you may rock the occasion in next year's awards.

Until I Faced Them.

Dear friend,

After much meditation and self introspection, I finally got the courage and inspiration to write to you again. Being a long while not updating on this blog, I got messages and queries of when I am most likely to write again; well here I am.

Of things that kept me silent; my past hurts, dissapointments, violances, abuses, rejections and discouragements are what have been secretely holding me hostage for the past 24 years of my life until I found myself standing in the midst of a heap of broken promises, splintered relationships, and shattered dreams.

 In the past month I went through a 'Self Healing & Realisation' moment. This is a healing of self, forgiveness of self and embracing of self. I know you might be a bit clueless as you read this passage but I will attempt to make you understand as we go along. Sometime, somewhere, somehow in our lives we have to deal with our worst enemy- US. We have to deeply dig down and find the very essence of our being that masters us to speak the way we do, walk the way we do and act the way we do. In other words we all get to a point in our lives where we seek answers for all the questions we have about the type a people we are. That self realisation is what sets us free from the yokes and bondages we so live to suffer under day to day.

Everybody has a story to tell. One that will inspire, release, strengthen and encourage the next person but as long as one hasn't realised the purpose within their past they will forever walk as slaves of shame, regret and bitterness.

Perhaps you don't know my story so let me break it down to you a little. I was born during an era I call 'The breaking of dawn', those are the late 80's. My parents met, fell inlove, married and only God knows how I got concieved, what matters is that I made it of all my little cell brothers and sisters who were competing with me in that baby-making-race. I was my father's only child and my mother's second son. My father was an accomplished and hard working taxi business owner whilst my mother clipped and filed for a living as a clerk at the Post Office. I assume we lived a balanced life, a normal life but sadly life took a toll when my father was tragically killed in a car accident a day after Christmas just a year after I was born. My mother being a 22- year old young adult at the time had to drop the madam cap and sail the family ship all by herself. So we had our ups and downs like any family and  life was still worth living. I still remember how our mother made sure  that we atleast had all we needed with the little she made. I feel a need to tell you of how beautiful my mother was, a radiant glow she had with a gentle charm that said 'I am a lady' on her face. She possesed a rare quality of style that I still live to see till present. I remember her smell, her gentle touch, her discipline and most of all her laughter. Hard  working as she was, she saw a need to further her studies and spread her wings to fly when she rellocated to Port Elizabeth, a metropolitan city in the Eastern Cape, when I was just 6-years old. She did well I assume; in an attempt to create more opportunities for her and us. So sad that life is just unpredictable, my dear mother suffered a similar death to that of my father when she was killed in a car accident also in one of her travellings when I was only 7-years old. It is then that life taught me to live and be an individual as young as I was. I thank God for my mother's family- my grandmother to be precise who clutched us with her warm wings and raised us to a people of dignity. As I grew up that part of my life was almost treated as just a figment in my dark imagination- we never spoke about it till I was a teenager in my late teens. It is then that I realised how damaging the experience had been to me but my family and so that chapter remained ignored.

My childhood starred a series of emotional emergencies, brokenness and a cargo of unanswered questions. I longed to have some messiah who would rescue me from the precepot of self destruction I was slowly subjecting myself into. Not that I had much of a choice but I longed despite.

One of the lessons I learned during these years was a lesson of self-affirmation and endurance. In every encounter I've had in the past be it positive or negative, these two elements ushered me through and helped me be a better me.
I encountered a number of emotional, physical, spiritual and verbal abuses in my life- ones I have never shared with anyone. The pattern of my life was used to dissapointments, rejection and mockery and nothing was unusual with these occured. What triggered danger though was never being to  openly talk about what I was going through as a child and so I carried the wounds of my childhood to my adulthood.

When the wounds of our past have not been openly exposed, they remain supreme, sensitive and sickly within us for the rest of our lives. It is only when we have found courage to open-up that we get to experience healing and liberty and be inspired to be a patronage to those who are still afflicted.

One of the mistakes I made was to close-up and ignore areas in my life that demanded intervention with urgency. I was too busy, I was an accomplisher, a go-getter, a benefaction to friends and family, there was just too much to accupy myself with but I had absolutely no time for my own disorders. The corollaries of such ignorance came at a great prize. I became a self-destruction weapon and did a remarkable job in trashing myself without even putting much effort. I had a solution to every problem except my very own as a result I pushed away those who sincerely cared for me because their attention demanded me to meet-up with my little devils. My brokenness was in a state of emergency and as long as I didn't acknowledge it, it continued to virus vital areas in my life- I lost out as a result.

Nobody knew what I was going through because I wasn't even aware myself. My brokenness had created cracks and loopholes for seeds to silently sneak into my life and germinate into different fruits- fruits that I would later be judged by. Let me clarify the outline of seeds in our lives. Somewhere, somehow, sometime in our lives we had encounteres that left us broken and opened a way for seeds to be directly deposited into secrete places we are unlikely to look at in ourlives. That embarassing experience from your past you don't want to look at or open up about is most likely to have dozens of seeds that will later germinate into different fruits. The seed of brokenness in my life resided in areas I didn't open up about for too long and as a result it created pathways for other seeds to be easily deposited and find a place of rest within. A seed of jealousy can germinate and be a fruit of bitterness and a seed of abuse can germinate to be a fruit of promiscuity. A seed of poverty can give birth to pride and a seed of rejection can produce a fruit of lust. Seeds have all sorts of complexities and dynamics. We all have seeds within us that we are too ashamed to search for. The problem with this is that as long as seeds have not been discovered they will continue to spread and grow at the expense of our liberty and peace.

I was a walking zombie for too long and my seeds were in control of my life, they created addictions and hooked me like a fish in a fishing rod. They directed my path and used my hand to feed their own selfish desires. For as long as I didn't deal with my disorders, I continued to live in slavery and shame of my bitter past. I lost relationships and friendships I so dearly treasured which will only take God's hand to restore. Some of these relationships though were never meant to be for a lifetime but they were a part of God's plan to help me realise the urgency of my self-uproars and that I will forever be greatful for.

Friends, it is vital for our own peace and health that we visit those areas of sensitivity in our lives, make peace with them and move on before they create more commotion meanwhile leading into a place of dispeakable loneliness. Healing is not just a process but it is conversion on its own. Freedom is not just the ability to do what you wish to do but it is assurance within that you are in full control of yourself and not defined by your experiences.

So let me challenge you to look within not above yourself and find that seed uproot it and move ahead. There is a reason you act the way you do, sensitive like you are, defensive or short-tempered like you are. I have been there and it is not a nice place to be in but you will forever live there as long as you do not come to terms with your self-uproars.

I hope you find the courage within to meet-up with your dark clouds, see the light in them and experience true freedom and liberty. It is never too late to re-claim what you are entitled to- your emotional healing and restoration is your rightful entitlement.

Here are some of the key steps in helping you get your emotional healing and move ahead.


ACKNOWLEDGE.

Be willing to acknowledge that you have a particular problem, history or weakness. Acknowledgement doesn't mean praise. By acknowledging your sexual, verbal, emotional abuse it doesn't mean you are praising it, no, it means you are brave enough to admitt that you once these encounters.

CONFRONT.

Find the courage or inspiration  to confront your past no matter how bitter or painful it is. Confront every single feauture in it and tell it what you think of it. Confrontation varies in different degrees. There are some uproars in our lives that require physical confrontation inorder for us to find healing and restoration. Sexual and Verbal abuse is one of the uproars that require physical confrontation to allow healing to happen easily. In cases where the individual is no longer, anything connected to them might assist in your confrontation.

FORGIVE.

It is so amazing how we are so used to forgiveness but have never really grasped the idealism in it. Forgiveness is a choice for you not the other person. Its for your own betterment not the other person's. Forgiveness is to choose to move from that place of hurt despite its dreadful returns. On of the biggest mistakes we still continue to make is to think we only forgive when there is another party or individual- that is not true. Self-forgiveness is the most beneficial yet difficult to exercise because it requires you to be as honest as you can about the incident or past so that you can find your position and make peace with it. Sometimes we spend our lives beating and punishing ourselves for things we can not change, we forgive others but not ourselves. Self-forgiveness makes it easier for you to forgive others.

 RELEASE.

Of all four, this is the most challenging. To let go and release the individual, memory or incident. For as long as we have not followed the other steps, it will be impossible for us to exercise release. Let go of those individuals, let go of that bitterness, let go of that shame and let go of the embarassment. Your mind is too precious to keep gabage from 5-10-15-20 years ago. Keep yourself clean. See yourself as a luxurious mansion and your past as bags of gabage and as long as you keep those bags of gabage within, the beauty of this mansion will never be seen. Keep calm and keep clean. Release!

RECONCILE.

You can not be at peace with what you have not reconciled with. Reconciliation is what assures us that healing has taken place in our lives. Sometimes you will have to make a heart to heart declaration of your peace with the individual, situation or event. This is your ultimate to peace.

There are many more other steps to follow to get to your self-healing, self-forgiveness, self-affirmation and living a life of peace of mind.

I hope you find the courage to finally look within and find your liberty becuase I never did till I took a closer look within.