betrayal

My heart pounds, like the rhythmic sound of the pestle as it hits the mortar
Blood rushes through my ears, like a burst sewer pipe in the streets of Harare
I lose my balance a bit, my equilibrium is definitely not what is should be
I wait for the anger to kick in, nothing
I wait for the tears to start stinging at my eyelids, nothing
My tear ducts appear to have gone on hiatus on me
All I feel is the dry, numbing, excruciating pain…
I imagine looking into my chest and seeing my heart shatter…
The fragments noiselessly falling to collect at the bottom of my stomach
I need to go; I need to get out,
Out of this body and away from the piercing pain that threatens to suffocate me.
I have to remember how to breathe; 30 seconds have gone past without a grain of air being expelled from my lungs
I need to run, to shake it off.
But my eyes go blank, darkness engulfs me
No I do not swoon, but the eye of my mind shuts down on it own volition
The agony is too much for it to continue watching
I feel my legs giving way, and I stumble to find a place to sit
I have tasted betrayal’s vile, foul-smelling palate in my mouth,
Wake me up when it’s over.

HIFA

This past week has been nothing short of exciting. I always get really excited when one of the biggest shows (at least in my book) comes to town and that is the Harare International Festival of the Arts (HIFA). I was just telling some people the other day that sometimes I think I am more excited about the euphoria, the adrenaline that surrounds this show. But the performances are exhilarating all the same. And this year I have managed to watch more than any other year due to the fact that I was still on that month long leave, what perfect timing.

One of my favourite performances this year, (well so far coz as I write I am yet to watch all the shows that I have earmarked) is an all woman cast performance by some of the finest divas around. It had the soul and grace of a woman. It was a celebration of the essence of a woman, the African woman and as I sat there I couldn’t help but be reminded again of how much I am proud to be an African woman. As I listened to the magical voices of Prudence Katomeni, Dudu Manhenga, Hope Masike, Ruth Mbangwa and the rest, I got transported to a beautiful place. I got to step out of my body and look at myself afresh. I saw the strength, the resilience, the power that lies in me. I saw the love of a mother, the selfish strength of a lover and I saw how all the burdens that a woman carries are balanced because we were built for the rough terrain. I saw the softness and kindness only a woman can possess, and I saw the grace and charm inherent in our DNA. But you see it is not actually me I was looking at, it was the woman I want to be, the woman I always strive to be. I always remind myself that I have to always strive at being a Proverbs 31 woman, and it fills me with ultimate delight when I realize that, all the things described in that beloved scripture, are the perfect description of an African woman, who holds the world in the palm of her hand. Did I tell you how proud I am to be an African woman?

HIFA always rekindles my love for theatre and every time I sit there enthralled by a performance I always get stirrings to find my way back to the stage. You see I used to love theatre, I used to love the stage, the emotions you evoke when you stop being yourself for a moment and become someone else, the warmth the beams set off when the spotlight is on you, and of course the pleasurable thundering beat of your heart when the audience breaks into a loud applause. I always wonder how I lost the passion, or rather how I left it drift to the recesses of my mind and heart such that I only get the stirring only once in a while. But you know what they say, its never too late to follow that dream. But I don’t know, life does have a way of sucking out of you passion for anything that is not directly linked to your livelihood, and it has a way of fooling you to prioritize things in an order you are not entirely happy with all in the name of doing the sensible thing.


P/s well of course I proceeded to finish HIFA before I posted what is above so I might as well make it into one LONG post. The rest of the shows were electric to say the least but I am more interested in what I observed during the festival. This might spark some controversy but I couldn’t help noticing the number of mixed race couples at this event. White woman + black husband or vice versa. And what tickles me is almost always, the black component is spotting dreadlocks. Is this perhaps an expression of their “Africanness” which in turns adds to their appeal in the eyes of the Caucasian partner? Don’t get me wrong I love locks, hell I even have them myself and I absolutely love them. And in a way yes they do make me feel more of an African child than my former straightened hair. However I still don’t get how dreadlocks become the ticket to bag yourself a Vanilla spouse. Yes I said it, shoot me.

And now in other not so exciting news, my month long leave has finally come to an end. People ask me what I did with it, obviously meaning what meaningful thing I did. I never know what that questions requires of me, but what I know is , I rested a lot (read slept), I spent time with my parents, and I discovered that there is hardly a sentence that my three year old son cannot construct by now. I read a lot too, and I watched a fair amount of television, I learnt new recipes and I strengthened a bond with my cousin by spending time with her. In fact I achieved quite a lot in this one month and I am not sure how I feel about going back to work yet but I have feeling I will do a much better job at it than I was doing a few months back. Even though of course the urge to look for another job is definitely still there, but that’s a post for another day!

Ola!

So I am back, after my sojourn. Let me see if I can remember the highlights of my trip. Oh first of all of course, I have always heard people go on and on about how women are absolutely crazy about men in uniform. And I always used to scrunch my eyebrows at that because honestly speaking, those specimens are lacking in my home country. There is just nothing appealing about the police officers, army officers or whatever officers I have seen here. Until I set foot in Spain ((((whistle)))). I was attending a rather high profile meeting so it meant that we had police escort everywhere we went and oh my goodness, I have never seen so much eye-candy! I mean we all agree that Spanish men are quite a dish with their dark hair and gorgeous accent, just wait till you see how they carry their uniform! Its sad that for security reasons they declined to have a photo taken but I can most assuredly tell you that this was high-ranking amongst my highlights of Spain.

Onto other Spanish related stories, I had quite a bit of a drama when I realized two hours before my flight that I was at the wrong airport altogether and the one I wanted was 70km away! Now I shall forever be grateful for efficient first world public transport, because had I been in sweet mother country I would have kissed my flight goodbye. So anyway in between, very little (read none) Spanish with bus drivers and taxi drivers I managed to get onto that plane even if I was the last person to check in!


By the way, the Canary Islands are absolutely beautiful, save some few quid and head down there because it is absolutely amazing, and the climate is warm too.And for all the ladies who are shoe-and-bag crazy as i am, you definitely need to get your booty over to Tenerife, you will shop your heart out at amazing bargain prices. and i have to say this, Spanish people are quite warm, whether it was because i was in a tourist area and all they saw was ching ching $$$ as they looked at me, i will never know. but all i can say is, the drivers are very courteous to pedestrians ( something refreshing when you come fom Zim), everyone else pretty much greets you with a smile. but then again, as i said before they might have just been smiling at my wallet instead.

Jetsetting

so today i am off to Europe, the weather better be kind to me i am not looking forward to having my nether bits frozen. i am African i dont do snow! he he i want to believe that where i am going the sun will be shining (humming) anyway i hope i will find lots of interesting stories to blog about when i come back, i will try and visit blogville in the two weeks i will be away maybe post too if i am lucky!

The S*** has hit the fan BIG TIME!

I never thought I would blog about the same topic twice but desperate times people desperate times. Now I was all in tears sobbing about the loss of my BFF just last week. And I really was low and in a sad mood. But hey, this ahs turned into a downright nasty encounter. And the sickeningly funny thing is I have not said anything in return, all I have said is that its better we call it quits, to which i got attacked in an avalanche of words that seem to have been plucked out of a particularly best-selling copy of insults. I mean come on, I am in my late twenties, I cant be doing cat-fights ON EMAIL and getting all clawed up over something frankly I have no clue about. In fact if I still had the desire to sit her down properly and ask her what she is stark-raving mad about, I doubt she will have an answer!

That being said since I am over the shock of the attack, I can say that I should have the emails carefully extracted and preserved. They could work very well for someone who is trying to get rid of a boyfriend and ensure that he never again attempts to get in touch. SMH, some people! I am wondering now whether she was always this special brand of Cruella or the truck-loads of money she is making now has gotten to her head. As you can see, from this post, respect for her and loyalty to our years of friendship have totally flown out of the window and I am not in a hurry to scurry after them.

I am done with this, sue me.

Related to that really I wonder what it is about us women that always gets us in this sort of mess. I mean guys can pull punches, put each other in ICU, and yet a short while later they will be buying each other beer against the strict orders of the doctor. Why do we women harbour bitterness and animosity? Why do we always pull out the obvious arsenal PHD (pull her down). I really don’t know, if someone does, kindly shed some light.

Friday Randomness

I just finished reading Steve Harvey's Act like a lady, Think like a man. all i can say is its unputdownable! i am not big on self-help/motivation/relationship advice kinda books, i never get past the first chapter but this, i found truly refreshing. mostly coz i found myself nodding at most of the things he was saying, the things that we women always know at the back of our minds but decide to ignore anyway because we wanna get that man, and keep him against all odds. and it also made me understand some of the things that have made me previously mad at DH for, like i dont care how new-age your man happens to be happen, but he will not cook or do dishes, on an average day, especially after the ring is on your finger. thats just men for you. i wont give away too much in case someone wants to have a look at it, which i strongly advise, its a great read. and if anyone wants a copy i can hook you up with an e-copy, just holla at me.

talking about reading i just realised that i have regained my passion for reading. somehow amidst the court papers to done and redone, toys to pick up after, forcefeeding coaxing a three-year-old to eat, feeding an older three-year-old my husband and finally getting to put my feet up, i find time to pick up a book and flip through several pages. and i have to join a library soon coz at the rate i am going i will run out of money and shelf-space for all the books i am buying. thank goodness for e-books that i occassionally read.

that being said i am looking forward to lazing around on the weekend with my latest stash of books! have a great one!

my best friend is gone....

i lost a friend today, my best friend to be exact. in fact i have posted about her before, my forever constant, my partner in crime. she and i have been friends for all of my adult life, i met her just as i was entering into adulthood. at the time when i was discovering life, discovering myself and i discovered a kindred spirit in her. we shared a great deal first kisses, first heartbreaks you know the works. its like my earth came shattering down on me, my maid of honour is gone.

but before you start really shedding tears for me she didnt die. and even though i woke up today thinking i would write a really nasty post about, i guess the loyalty i have felt over all these years is still in tact. today my friend said hurtful things to me, she said things that i dont even have the courage to say to my enemy. she called me all sorts of things and i am still trying to figure out what i did to deserve all that. i didnt cry, maybe i am still in shock. mayve this is a wound that has been festering bit by bit and i was blissfully unaware of it, or i was bandaging over it. but today the bandage was rudely ripped off, they always say its better without warning. but i wanted to be warned, i wanted to be told that it is going to bleed and be really really painful. until i started writing this post i hadnt shed a tear, but now i can hardly see the screen.

my best friend is gone....and i have never had a best friend before....what am i going to do?