Winners are at war

Winners are at war; belligerent and compelled to fight for what’s strictly theirs.

Their lips spit firestorms and they speak deluded insight.

We are at war with ourselves. We are at war with the colour of our own skin.

We are at war with what is right; fighting our way out of a plight.

Our complex, strong, and oh so inequitable minds emulate backbones loaded with sharp objects.

 

Winners are at war; belligerent and compelled to fight for what’s strictly theirs.

Why be happy when I can be thrilled making you dejected?

What is yours is not yours. It is mine and I will assassinate for it.

Why be rich when I can be rich making you poor?

Triumph is appealing to the eyes of those whose efforts are instinctively futile.

 

Winners are at war; belligerent and compelled to fight for what’s strictly theirs.

Brown bread and butter are not enough to those who are unschooled.

Scold poverty, and goodness and mercy shall follow you.

School your enemies, and madness and mediocre shall comfort you.

Uncouth behaviours reap more riches than the efforts of the prudent men.

 

Winners are at war; belligerent and compelled to fight for what’s strictly theirs.

Hunger has reached far deep; it’s entrenched on the grounds of resentment.

Corporate passages are unoccupied, our brothers are demanding what’s not theirs on the streets.

School doors are closed, our sisters lie in wait for answers in clinics and hospitals.

The Gods are confused. Our mothers and father are shunned. Why is our earth in flames?

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Mr. Leadership,

I see greed and silver coating your tribal hands, fiercely.

Why is it then that my palm awkwardly covers the shame and guilt on my face?

What is wrong with my face? What is right with your hands?
 

What is this poverty of which we speak?

When your feet are flooded with the water we drink?

Who is this victim to whom we refer xa eyakhw’ inzalo ixukuxa ngobisi?

 

Yintoni na isisele xa izidywili zimunguny' iqhosh’ elingenamngxunya?

Yinton’ iqhosha elingenamngxunya kwiintsana eziqhel’ ukuhlafun’ iimpukane?

Iyintoni yona inkolo kulowo ungenasono?

 

Take my damn hand, lead me on and bend me over.

The truth I hold will never unfold.

My wasted penis throbs at the sound of your monologues.

 

I could cite excitement, but I’m in pain.

I could correctly rape newness to restoration.

But, what is to come then when I could never clean what I could have in the shower?

 

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16 Days of Activism against gender violence

In a classroom outside of Johannesburg, a teacher pressures a young student to have sex with him, telling her that she’ll fail the class if she does not.

 Not far away, in a living room late at night, a victim of domestic violence, afraid she’ll get beaten again, acquiesces to the drunken insistence of her husband and endures intercourse.

In a one-room house in Kwazulu Natal, a young man listens in confusion and anguish to the news that his sister has been raped. No one knows whether the rapist was HIV positive or not.

 

Original author: Dean Peacock, Men as partners: South African men respond to violence against women and HIV/AIDS.

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Freedom

I am an offspring to South Africa; a country that possesses a history record that urges citizens to contribute towards an inclusive world where mutualism is a tool with which the world promotes peace and harmony among people.

The lessons her history has taught me, and my optimistic siblings, is that we can achieve anything when we stand together.

As South Africans, we pride ourselves with more than eighteen years of social equality. This era is a mirror reflecting the intense visuals of suffering, struggle and rebirth of a nation.

Yes, South Africa managed to defeat the system of segregation because people stood together as one.

Still, with that profound view of lessons and relic, and having just celebrated Freedom Day just a few days ago, we fail to understand that freedom without taking responsibility for your own well-being and without taking possession of your own destiny will unquestionably lead to some form of self-imposed oppression.

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Thabo (eradicate indlala)

I believe that education is indisputably the best instrument towards personal development. And, I also believe that the only way I can plunge back to being poor is if I make a blunder of the prospects education has afforded me.

I believe that education is not the only lawful and correct route to putting food on the table. And, I also believe that there are alternative routes, only they require the usage of your brain with a tinge of determination, underlined by a plan.

Know that I have come to experience worry concerning you and the challenges you have, academically. The thought of you struggling to finish high school raises questions to my abilities as an educated sibling; hence self-blame unceasingly appears to arouse the feeling of guilt.

I know that poverty is a ground that breeds an environment that is damaging to people’s development; mentally, physically and emotionally.

But, know that I have come to accept and understand that there are other options you can manipulate so as to create a comfortable life for yourself.

My duties as your brother can merely go so much as making sure that you obtain basic skills that could score you a desk in an office. It is only your train of thought and ambition that can perhaps move you from that small desk by the door towards addressing blue-chip executives in a boardroom.

I am well aware that a significant path out of poverty requires a robust economy that produces jobs and good salaries. And, I am also well aware that the impact carried through the ability to raise a productive workforce can last for generations.

Do yourself a favour and defy imitating the people who constantly speak of bridging the growing gap between poor people and the rich, while unfounded are the actual actions towards accomplishing this brilliant idea and instituting it to become observable efforts.

The same voices influence young underprivileged men and women to dream big, yet no one puts an emphasis on the idea of actually waking up and working towards fulfilling that dream. As a result, your neighbours have formed part of a generation that spends most of its valuable time complaining about the government that fails them.

Beats me as to what has glued them tight on the chairs someone else built.

P.S: indlala = poverty

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Preys of poor systems

Literally, minutes after my two female colleagues and I had a conversation concerning sexual and physical abuse of women by their spouses, and the consequences that follow when the victims retaliate with worse slants, I saw the Brutalised article via The Times.

While my heart bleeds for the victim, and as I drag the course that our justices are yet to embark on this matter, I am repulsed by the way our current justice system works.

Where are we to disappear to when our own homes ululate harm over secured walls and protection bulldogs?

Who is supposed to shield our mothers and sisters when the same men who once proclaimed their undying love for them hold no boundaries in pounding them while their off-springs are watching?

Are we really meant to surrender all our wills and muscles to react to the authorities whose inkling of punishing the guilty is to issue a mere paper aimed to keep the perpetrator away?

Is this how we hope South Africa will develop further? When our own females are not treated with love, respect and care, how then do we expect other countries to invest in our women empowering initiatives?

Seeing that the head of this state is, evidently, doting of women, I would honestly love to hear him share a word on this one issue.  

Otherwise, he will have to choose his next wife from a list of women who have been abused by their formers and have been failed by the same systems he runs.

I am of the idea that fighting fire with fire has no place in life, yet I believe shooting to kill should apply in incidents such as this one.

To think we claim to be proud of the women we share this realm with…

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Never close our eyes

Without a doubt, a number of Christians believe that we are currently experiencing the wrath of God.

Being one myself, I seem to concur. I am looking at the saddest things taking place around me, the disasters claiming the lives of fathers who live their families behind, the fatal HIV/AIDS that steals the souls of young men and women whose potential was once fit for the evolution of this beautiful South Africa.

And that is what I pray for; I pray for peace in this world and I pray for a strong and caring government in this country…  Martine Whitehead, my colleague, spoke these words and I found myself teary just at the imagination of our homes getting demolished by issues we can effortlessly avoid.

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Scrambled workbooks, government on the rocks

The issue is not new, yet we have leading stories on it.

Many schools around the country have been without books, desks and even chalkboards for a long period, today though we act shocked and feel betrayed on discovering textbooks dumped and burnt.  

The failing rate in public schools has been a problem when Nelson Mandela was in prison, and when he came out. We were singing the same tune even when Thabo Mbeki was president, yet we seem to unwrap it as a new dawn in this Zuma era.

Hypocrites much?

We are excited at breaking the ice with our lovers in bed by conversing about how the system is a joke, along being blinded by newspapers and media houses that make money out of getting us to see what they want us to see, forgetting that we are on the grassroots.  We are the victims.

Hence we live to tell the actual effects of not having textbooks at schools. Still, we nod every morning at the sight of the same leading stories in the news.

Opposing parties have sound stands. In fact, up until recently, they represented the masses by raising questions otherwise citizens would never be able to ask. However, they too seem to be caught up in agreeing that Angie Motshekga and her office failed.

Haven’t we had enough about knowing what went wrong?  At what stage will we tackle solutions?

No. Firing Motshekga is not an elucidation. We all know our current government does not really fire under-performing servants nor does it arrest the guilty. Then why bother?

The government has never been able to do things independently. I would like to believe that is why Mbeki emphasised on the Vuk' uzenzele concept in 2002/3. Therefore, private businesses, individuals and NGOs must take action towards preventing an issue that will ruin my younger brother’s life and the rest of young South Africans who cannot be able to act on their own.

Of course, if my brother is the only one victimised by the issue of lack of resources in schools, then let this be my call and mine alone to deal with. Otherwise, entirely efforts are needed in all nine provinces.

South Africans need to stop talking and carping about issues that will never discontinue any time soon. Not suggesting violence in any way, instead one must do something that could help the two people next-door. Hopefully, the two will help five people each. That way we are truly working together to enhance the lives of our fellow community members.

This time, the issue might have ascended through Limpopo, but the Eastern Cape has been suffering for many years. What about the other provinces? Someone probe into the matter.

I am not merely urging people to read how messy our education system is on this blog, I am working on an initiative that will help my brother escape the bosh system we have in this country. In addition, 25 more needy students will benefit from my idea.

Of course, the intention is to inspire all of them to work hard and end up helping 25 more suffering souls each, just like I would have done.

What are you doing about this problem?

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Dante’s last blog

Two hours ago, I received a call from an old friend of mine who is based in East London. My friend came across a blog that mentioned my name in it and he suggested I take a look at it.

He refused to go into detail with regards to what the blog was about or who it belongs to. He forwarded me a link; a link I followed.

The link he sent me led me Dante Bello’s blog - Raison d’être! - on a post that seems to have been his last one before he died.

What my friend does not know is that I knew Dante and I knew him very well. To me he was like a brother, to some degree and although I only met him a few times, I feel he left me, and the voices he inspired to speak freely, too soon.

Never mind his short-stay; he definitely made a mark in the lives of many black Africans.

A few dubbed him provocative and philosophical, but I saw Dante as a man of principle; a soul that craved absolute good in the continent.

Since the day I saw a tweet that confirmed his death, I have not been to his blog. So, today I went back to a place Dante introduced me to, a podium I used to challenge his ideology and a platform he used to shape views on certain political and social issues.

In my view, he used this blog to speak his mind in an effort to inspire change and build character in black people, especially those who were close to him.

Having gone through Raison d’être!’s last post, I felt the need to have that same piece on my blog. Of course, not denying the late brother of his credit in the blog.

It appears Dante wrote this post about a year ago.

Postcard From Freetown - Reflections!

Moments have gone by and time is still relatively waiting for no man. This is the reality we are faced with as earthlings. I sit on a chair on my balcony reflecting and reminiscence the thoughts that flow through my mind, words lingers to chaste.

It has been a while I put pen to paper and I can’t say it’s a writer’s block but rather I’ll succumb to the sentiment that it was a wilful decision to stop writing, read more about what others are writing, immerse myself in these spaces to acquire more knowledge, ideology, views, opinions, sentiments and indulge in the literal thinking of others.

Read more here...

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Abandoned advantage

For me personally, 2012 is the year of (certain) dreams coming true, while for my country the pressure is boiling its tail to abandon Iran and source crude oil from elsewhere, despite the difficulty we could face in securing new contracts. No need to clench round rings and cross fingers, South Africa will make a plan… I hope.

However, for institutions such as the University of Johannesburg (UJ), 2012 appears to be a year of mortification. Not so much of an enthralling entrance, considering the stampede that claimed the life of a mother, leaving several people battered in January. Couple that with the death of the 20-year old girl who passed away last weekend due to an alleged illegal abortion–gone-wrong.

This is a university that has produced a large number of professionals, decision makers and prodigies who have contributed immensely towards the development of the South African economy.

Therefore, the problem could not at all be with the lecturing method. Yet, as my former employee would have assumed, the issue possibly lies in the way the school handles its liaison with the outside world through public relations.

Surely, such incidents do occur in other academic institutions. Perhaps, what distinguishes the others from UJ is the rigid seriousness and value these institutions hold for their communications departments; not just a matter of mannerism, but by employing competent entities to help shape and protect the image of the university.  Especially from the vultures news agencies are.

Often, we interrogate the ability; some entities have, to survive horrid scandals in the face of others failing dismally to escape the results of not-so scandalous actions; yet such consequences are capable of ruining one’s image and reputation to the maximum.

My humble index finger is keen to dub the communication or PR department of an organisation, which experiences such indignity, the abandoned advantage. Having said that, a number of companies still see acquiring public relations expertise as waste of time and money. Yet they tap their cheeks whenever a small issue, that could have been easily controlled, spurts out of control.

Of course, I am no better, given the fact that I am a product of Walter Sisulu University.

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Transparency at its worst

In a business and social context, the term transparent refers to openness, communication, and accountability. It implies operating in a way that others can easily see and understand what actions are performed.

For those of us who have daddy issues, this is a term we use when in conflict with our mothers. We question its lack concerning the ‘daddy’ problem. It means being frank and honest about the issue at hand.

The same term comes into play in relationships. If you have fallen for a scumbag, I’m assuming you pleaded with the player using this exact same term. Most probably, you called it honesty or openness. Alas, the dog just could not abide.

From a societal perspective, however, public officials tend to use transparency recurrently. That is absolutely good of them. Except that, many of them become transparent when they have been cornered. And even then, they merely give certain portions of that openness; saving the rest for when the wind blows the cock’s tail again.  

Giving half the story or share it when you are faced with a challenge is not being honest or transparent, I believe. Speak on it as soon as you identify its inferences.

For instance, I was stumped this morning, when I came across The Star with mam’ uNomvula Mokonyane on the cover regarding her son who apparently pleaded guilty to possession of drugs.

What stunts me is the fact that now that the son has admitted to being guilty, the Gauteng Premier “appeals for your support and prayers” as she deals with this “traumatic experience”.

Why couldn’t she come forward before the streets of Joburg were flooded with state pluck-cards aimed at combating substance abuse? Or were we hoping the son would go AWOL for more than a month?

Naturally, no mother deserves to be going through such. Nevertheless, possibly, my sympathy would at least fill-up a flask had she been transparent about the challenge her son has been to her from the beginning. Not only now that the media has caught on it.

Public officials are human beings just like Tom, Mandla and Nokwanda. And because their job is to serve the public, they owe it to the public to be frank about things, especially when such things affect their job or the people they serve.

I believe you owe it to people to inform them by all means, possible. You do not have to be smart or an academic to be transparent. Honestly now, we cannot all be Trevor Manuel. The world needs the Malemas too.

This frankness should not just emerge when times are tough or when the likes of Mzilikazi Wa-Afrika are at your door demanding answers.

In my belief, it is not honesty, transparency or openness when you reveal something simply because you are in trouble. In fact, it would not even be a trouble if it was all out in the open from the first place. Well, maybe.

Let’s work on this, shall we?

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Bravo task team! Bravo!

It would be hypocritical of me to detach my name from the list of people who often have nothing pleasant to say about the South African government. While I am never the inciter, during such disputes, I certainly pour a great deal of my censorious perspectives concerning the state and its men.

Nonetheless, I am amongst the first people who highlight something good that has resulted from the system I call a joke.

The arrest made in relation to one of the eight murders (of gay men) in Gauteng, brought a tear to my eye. Of course, this could have happened in the long run, but the mere fact that a task team was arranged and tasked to combat a homophobic crime, is worth writing home about. Many other gay men share the same sentiments, I am sure.

I acknowledge that our statesmen did not emulate the homophobic Australian Prime Minister who hosted homosexual couples at her official residence. Yet, I am certainly happy I am not based in Iraq; where 58 people who were either gay or believed to be so were killed in one month. My South Africa falls short.

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Relapse amid evolution

I found myself submitting to appreciation recently, when I overheard colleagues sharing intricacies concerning the widening gap between the poor people and those who rinse cups with Oros, in South Africa.

Emulating the poetic sense of Shakespeare, one painted the picture of the country we live in: “a beautiful place where laws oppose the actions of the people who are duly authorised to pass them and make sure that these are put into action.”

Rightly so, her statement was supported by the policemen who are involved in many corruption cases; hence the rate of crime in South Africa fails to decline.

My gratitude, nevertheless, emanates from being fixed within the working class, despite what tomorrow is believed to have in archives. As a result, my future is based on solid ground; depending on how habitually I nurture the soil on which my professional feet stand.

While I boast about my accomplishments which benefit me and my family, many individuals bear little and, some, nothing to show-off.  They went through academic channels, and many succeeded with flying colours. However, for reasons no one can understand, that was just all for them; no work or any means of income approached.

Something went wrong somewhere and my index finger points at the lack of ambition. So, who do I paint pink with blame? The parents. The families that fail to see past the empty plates on their laps. In this case further education is needed, and with that I am not referring to the enrolment in academic institutions; education in the sense that an individual must learn to be creative, smart and willing to explore possible chances.

Our communities comprise people who are able to shape and design, accordingly, the brands we believe our families are, alas we do not realise that. Hence many people look up to almighty government for everything.

Apart from living large spending the taxpayers money and getting more corrupt each day, the government can only do so much to assist the people who are in need. It is for people at the grassroots level take thing in their own hands. By no means do I say steal from one another. In fact, help one another.

With that being said, South Africa comes a long way, and that would not have been possible had it not been for each of the people who have served as cabinet members in our South African government.

The man whom majority of South Africans dubbed the epitome of humanity, Nelson Mandela shown traits of the push-push concept. Why not practise the push-push concept on each other then; starting in our homes, with families encouraging each member to do well in all aspects and show support whenever members needs it?

Several black South Africans refuse to work hard. Instead opt for illegal dealings that leave the rest of us who do work hard shocked, especially when other races have something to say about it.

We have young girls who do not see the importance of education at all because there men out there who are willing to finance their needs (and possibly their families too), just as long as the reciprocal process includes having sex. The idea of saving oneself for marriage is so ancient, like who wants to be a virgin in 2012??? Like, that is so not cool.

We have dreams, we are very talented people and we are hungry for knowledge, but peer pressure seem to get us even in our 20s and early 30s because we simply cannot be seen standing alone at a bus stop declaring being unique.

The words we utter, therefore, will become pivotal in this case. Consequently, thorough consideration of the things we say to one another will come to play. Perhaps, the outcomes may not be market-related salary for all the family members, but an attitude, for some, that will yield expedient features of life; happiness, positivity and drive.

Nonetheless, there is one thing we just cannot let go. Discrimination. Or is it negativity?

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The palimpsest my beloved Mzantsi is

At one point the colours that make up the multihued, my beloved South Africa is, seemed nicely allied and resilient. These days, nonetheless, there seems to be a gap dividing these ensigns. As a result, the question to be noted insensitively points at the reasons causing such a breakage and rapid seclusion. The answer is unknown.

 

Poverty continues to heap on and this is accentuated by the number of robberies that never seems to diminish in many cities in South Africa. Of course, national statistics play a ping-pong game with our minds; unsubstantiated decreasing statistics while our neighbourhoods tell a different story.

 

Hunger has found comfort in many households. In such homes any twinkle costs thousands. Hence many negated bellies see no problem in killing a young school girl for earrings that possibly cost no more than R60.

 

It is starvation, and possibly the love for money or for the actual syndicates, I believe, that has led Nobanda Nolubabalo to hide, in her dreadlocks, 1.5kg of cocaine. Perhaps, R16 000, to deliver the drugs to an unidentified punter at a hotel in Bangkok, was worth jeopardising her life. At 23, she did not, like the drugs would have; destroy anyone’s life, but hers. However, a 38 year-old Janice Linden did not survive consequences of this despicable act. Her illicit trafficking clashed with the Chinese authorities. Hence they executed her.

 

Of course, the main dealers, in this case, are free; possibly engaging other young and unemployed hungry – even horny - women.

 

Poverty breeds crime and many people do not seem to understand this. I would love to believe I do; the indication is detectable in the animal I become while I propel my brother to do well and endure his school time as well as his teachers and what they are compensated to feed him.

 

With that being said, my dear president is an excited man who, for reasons possibly known only to him and his cabinet, persistently declares plans to create employment and to titivate the lives of the impoverished; a concept that continues to fail up to this day.

 

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Poverty wars vs. greedy potbellies

Our governing system in South African has seen the worst of days, predominantly during the legal racial segregation era which lasted for over 40 years.

Some of us have relatives and neighbours who bear emotional and physical scars as a result of the abuse that came with the segregation. Their scars narrate the era way better than lyrics that escape the lips of seasoned artists like Simphiwe Dana or the magnificent poetess, Lebo Mashile.

Victims forgave their perpetrators and races became one dominion. Black people learnt twang while white people enumerate sawubona accentuated by a notable grin. Sadness and anger vacated South African premises and oneness became the supreme head boy.

The books we read and the stories flashing on our computer screens acknowledge a positive objective that Nelson Mandela meant to implement. Due to running out of time, he merely spoke about the concept. I assume, those who were to succeed him were expected lay the actual brick on the cement.

Rightly so, the current ruling administration does not skip a day without making it known just how fuelled up it is to embark on a trail to enhance the lives of the previously disadvantaged South Africans while upholding the objective of bringing balance in racial, political and societal standards. 

This excites many people, but I am not fooled.

The efforts of the current government might have worked, in some measure. The old pensioner in the rural Natal can testify and my HIV positive relative shares the sentiments.

However, political leaders and policy makers have became short of transparency and honesty; a tendency that has impacted negatively on many communities on grassroots level.  

One would have thought the year 1994 painted South Africa clean. But, it appears the battle is not over.

We are half way through wiping racial discrimination out, but the trend of corruption and empty promises has taken several politicians by a storm.

This is why there are still households that have never had electricity. This is why, even after 16 years of democracy, there are still schools that are running short of desks, books and even chalks. Why then do we question the roof-hitting fail rate in black schools?

And, that is why many routes to Newcastle have the worst potholes any car could drive on.

It is because; the people entrusted to represent the poor and unemployed South Africans care more about feeding their own pockets and going on a bender using taxpayers money with the belief and confidence that although big brother can see them he will not punish them.

The system we have in South Africa is a joke. The politically affiliated broadcasting institutions have proved this.

No, not by doing their job of reporting – vague details – on the issue of corruption, but by chipping in on fraudulent activities that have left a question mark and a huge dent on the ingenuity of journalism in South Africa.

The people chosen to be leaders have failed to represent poor communities in South Africa and they have failed to represent this country as a society that value of humankind and human rights.

All we have in us is the hope that, in the near future, things will be better. Of course, this is if individuals learn to clutch as much education as they can and cling on it. This does seem to be the only route linking people to white bread and away from brown slices.

We need to put into practice methods aimed at providing useful advocacy tools so as to promote grassroots prioritisation in South Africa. This needs the sane people left in South Africans to work collaboratively towards a goal that will benefit everyone equally.

Or at least better the lives of poor people.

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Oh Twitter, thy excellence is a charm

The masses have dubbed Twitter good while some see it as bad and very ugly; with a tinge of backstabbers, groupies and ass-kissers. Nonetheless, judging by its ever accelerating membership, it is only fair to agree that Twitter is popular.

A number of ordinary South Africans have celebrities because of this form of social media. Certain people’s egos and personalities have become bigger and more ostentatious due to how smart, rich and important Twitter people have measured them.

I’m thinking, this is the reason some companies have taken up this platform with the aim of promoting their services and products. Twitter brings an audience that carries some power in regards to publicising something without being paid to do so. This is exactly what some companies sought after.

Many companies have succeeded is utilising this tool while some have struggled and, to some extent, failed dismally.

Their mistake, in my opinion, has been to emulate the typical angles big corporates have already worn and tired. They failed to build their subsistence outside the box.

I believe that the lack of creativity (in these companies) can be blamed to not completely understanding the majority of people who dominate on Twitter and how they can actually take advantage of their presence in the sphere.

Case in point, many companies tend to associate their brands and products with musicians, actors and whoever is always on television. The intention here is to make sure that their product is always spoken about or at least seen on television without having to go the traditional way of advertising and selling it.

That is good and it works. Sometimes.

However, these companies fail to understand that Twitter exist on their laps free of charge and with it comes a number of people (let us call them Twiples) who are willing AND able to promote certain products to a reasonably large audience.

The majority of these Twiples have ordinary jobs – that which we never consider exciting – and some of them are just students. But, their tweets are read, and considered important, by many followers who are impending customers for these companies.

For example, I have less than 300 followers on Twitter and many of them are industry individuals. But, I follow – and get followed by - two people; Tendai Sean Joe and Lelo Boyana.

When Lelo and Tendai comment or retweet a photograph I have tweeted it gets viewed by thousands of people. Sometimes, if they retweet one of my tweets or comment on it I will get tagged on comments by a several people, whom I do not even know from bar of Twitter soap. At times I would get follow requests based on their one and only comment.

One more example: I usually tweet English translations of Xhosa terms and expressions. So, a few weeks back, Lelo was asked by one of her followers as to where can s/he get Xhosa lessons. In response, Lelo tweeted my name. From that one response, I got loads of follow requests within one hour. For me this was unusual and very scary. Thanks to having locked my tweets, I was able to opt for people I thought were of interest to me.

These are the people many companies, public relations agencies and products should be associated with. I know only two, but I bet you there are many where they come from.

While they might not be musicians, actors or leak nude photographs of themselves to get attention, they carry a very useful audience on Twitter.

So, using them comes in handy, literally.

Besides, many of these musicians, actors and ‘celebrities’ (God only knows of what) do not have many followers on Twitter. Of course, this can be blamed to the fact that they hardly tweet anything remarkable. Not even something that helps their image.

Possibly, I have just blogged about something many people have already said or tweeted. But, I see no harm in repetitively preaching this kind of gospel. Especially after receiving more than two thousand views on a photograph I tweeted last night simply because Lelo commented on it while I usually get less than five.

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My boys of miscarriage

I lied to myself so many times, when I was single, and said I am NOT looking. Love will find me, I would say. But deep down in me, I knew I was looking for the one person with whom I can talk about things that other people hardly understand nor find interesting.

I went out with friends at night and on weekends; drank, laughed and ate all the fattening food. I socialised and met new friends some of whom felt like I was too much of a pink diamond to be single. So, I was hooked up -unwillingly- many times with other single sheeps. Though disappointing in so many levels at times, the experience was fun and very insightful.  

I met men – and boys - I felt were the right ones. With some, I slept, I had sex and I loved. Many of whom proved to fall for me for the many get-togethers I am loved for. Clearly, boy eyed guaranteed entrance tickets – to a house I do NOT even own - whenever yours truly felt Oprah-ish and fed the ‘nation’; making it rain while he would come in with arms folded. I am guessing his wallet had one big hole through which his cents escaped on his way to mine.

The last one though, boy I mean, was a figure my friends felt was the most ludicrous relation I have ever pursued. He liked me and I liked him back. He had deep issues and I had to have tissues always. Of course, I had problems too.

Nonetheless, he was not a hard tiff to swallow. Or so I thought. He left me bending picking up my jaw when he had no shame sharing with me that his ex did not only have horse of a pipe, but he –my boy- was the only one whom the ex told could take it all in...

Yes, I was single and in like, but I was not foolish that I would dip my being in a hole that had taken in objects dubbed to be larger and bigger than my arm. Besides, I had an ego to grow NOT to bruise it. Imagine, me humping and pumping a ride with someone who’d probably be focusing on how slow my beard is growing.

Oh, what a loss though. But he left me with a lesson; never take too lightly petite boys, particularly those who compliment me every chance they get.

All the same, the one before him was another tale to be reckoned. A song I would have chosen Amy Winehouse to sing. I and he were what many considered a match-made in heaven. However, we both knew we were nothing like that. Instead, we were simply lusting for each other.

I told him many times how much I wanted him. I don’t care what everyone thinks of you, I want you, I would say. He would touch me and get playful with me in public and he let me kiss him whenever I wanted to.

Yet, it appeared he had not only been touchy and playful with me. Right across my house, my coloured neighbour knew him. In fact, my neighbour and his friends knew him very well. He had photos to prove it. I saw the photos, he was right; they knew him seeing that we all had seen him.

Happy read!

Mzantsi - Not so juicy!

All women deserve to be treated with immense care and respect. This is a notion shared by many countries around the world.

Some states went as far as advocating for the 50/50 concept, to promote women beyond households en route for higher-ranking settings in boardrooms and in politics. Consequently, the likes of Shirley Lue Arnold, Khanyi Dhlomo, Wendy Luhabe, Pam Golding and Helen Zille are amongst the many women who are widening the female footprint in areas that were once perceived as male zones.

South Africa has progressed from being a tyrannical (gender and race bias) state to a country that recognises and advocates for many aspects of human rights and women empowerment initiatives. As a result, misuse of these rights is frowned upon.

Contrary to the latter, women are still the most susceptible to crime, abuse and discrimination in South Africa. In recent cases, women are lured to the country and subsequently forced to work as prostitutes. Lesbians are subjected to corrective rape by men who claim to be “curing" them of their sexual orientation.

This is the country that once had a woman for a deputy president. Businesses operative within South African parameters are compelled to acknowledge and practise gender equity. In fact, for the local government to do any business with private companies such companies must show where they stand in regards to representing women of any race in their businesses.

However, human trafficking is still rife in South Africa. Women are subjected to sexual exploitation and forced labour. Yes, many of them are foreigner. But, the fact is, all this takes place IN South Africa.

The United States government recently released Trafficking in Persons Report which states that South Africa is a transit and destination country for women and children subjected to forced labour and sex trafficking.

Why then do we still have such problems when we can only be dealing with issues regarding unemployment rate of women and more empowerment initiatives for them?

Last year, Jeff Radebe, Minister of Justice and Constitutional Development, said the government was planning to fast-track a new law against human trafficking before the start of the soccer World Cup. It is a year later now, the Western Cape still has women who bring other women into the country under false pretences and force them to be prostitutes. What happened to the Prevention and Combating in Trafficking in Persons Bill Sir Radebe was planning to “fast-track”?

Educated minds know better than to pay attention to what the government says and promises. That is why the issue of human trafficking in South Africa is only fought by small private organisations. Chances are, had several women and children’s rights groups not warned about this exploitation last year, the government would not have uttered a word.

South Africa comprises political parties that tend to promise to build Jerusalem for the homeless, feed those whose tummies are echoing emptiness and free education for all. Not even one of them says a thing about the human trafficking issue South Africa is facing.

Is the human trafficking issue not a mention during their speeches in parliament? They are waiting to host another big event during which they will try and impress tourists and outside investors?

Clearly, the government dreads the process of establishing rigid restrictions for human trafficking; hence the safe and easy route to take would be to assist the existing anti-human trafficking organisations by providing them with necessary resources to combat this crisis.

Oh, my dear political parties lie at least. Say something is about to be done just like your vague promises about fixing potholes and combating corruption amongst yourselves. Hold those pointless conferences annually. That way, at least young minds can learn about human trafficking JUST from hearing about it. Possibly, that could make school teachers’ jobs a bit easier and perhaps the ever accelerating HIV/Aids rate could decrease even if it is with one percent.

Happy read!