I feel weak
Weak from the heart down to every step I take, because they represent the struggle I have walked
Those very steps are a print in the sand that shows I was there
I took pain in, it became who I am and it has engulfed me and suffocated me
I can see beyond the pain
I can't see through the fog of resentment
My heart beats against my rib cage, reminding me with every passing heart beat of the pain
It is in the memory that my knees buckle, giving in from all the burdens my shoulders can't carry
Those burdens have made me who I am, ANGRY!
Angry at the world, angry at my reality, angry at all the foolishness.
Who am I to think I am any better then any other homo Sapien Sapien
Is it not true that with the luxury of drawing breath is the horrible affiliation of life
You can't smell the rose without piercing your skin with the thorns?
You can't hold onto the dear memories of a once lived happy life
Without facing the spots of black
Everything will come with a beautiful picture, but with that picturesque view comes pain of past memory
How am it to smile everyday when all I really want to do is succumb to the pressures of life?
How am I to begin searching for the rainbow, when the rain wont seize?
Tell me.

I claw onto the nearest pillar of strength I can find because my reality knows not of standing alone
The though is enough to drive darkness back into its corner,
enough to drive the sea away from its shore
enough to take the feeling of want with it.
Want after nothing, dare not hope and ensure you keep every being at arms length
is

the lesson taught from all past experience

But to what?
To never wanting to fully live?
See the debacle is all in the questions asked with no answer.
If I don't have the answers, how can I ever teach?

The Love of my life

The Love of my life
She named me "Pombili Ihapupotwa"
Translated: You will not disrupt peace

She is the beat to my heart, the ray to my sun.. The love of my life..

When I look at the fragile skin that illuminates the shine of her heart.. I see my Queen.

To fully love, warmth needs to fill your heart, threatening to explode and show the world just what it lies in its depth
It wants to draw stars in the sky, that will light up galaxies for centuries to come
It wants to hold on tight and never loose its grasp on this beauty
It wants to lie on your chest and hear your heart beat for hope that, that beat never runs out

To love, is to fully give yourself and being
"If this be error upon me, then I never writ, nor men ever loved"
I have written and I have loved.. I love.

When I look at her, I see more than a woman, I see truth, I see soul
When she smiles, her smile lights up the room
Her laughter, is soul baring and echoes through a room
Her loud voice will be heard

She has been my care-taker from birth
When my mother returned to school after giving birth to me, she fed me
She cared for me, but most importantly, she loved me
From the struggle of having me change my socks to a matching pair as I would not let up the different paired socks,
To teaching me how to say "Paturura" for I was convinced that there was no other way to say open in the Oshiwambo language
She fought with me, as my sense of dress code made no sense in the 1900's
Yet, I insisted I wanted to wear an orange beenie, matched with a pink crop top and yellow jeans, mis-matched socks and ill paired shoes
She would make me two lunch boxes of food, as by the time I reached school, the first has been devoured
And so she would replace it at the school entrance gate
She beat me, for I believed to be above eating porridge
I believed myself to be allergic to eating "pap"
"Ek is a bok wat nie pap eet nie"
And then there was the inevitable day I reported her to the cops.. Let me explain..

Soooooooooo..
One fateful day my "nkero" manners decided to grace the earths with stubbornness so deep rooted, it couldn't be moved
 My Granny asked that I wash up the afternoon dishes on my return from school
When the clock hit 3pm, not a crockery was cleaned and so the warning descended on me
"Kana ka'Kandiwapa, you will wash those dishes by 5pm, else you will see me today..", were the warning words
As stubborn as I was, the words fell off my shoulder, as carelessly as they had been thrown my way
And so 5pm came and went, and in a flash of an eye, my grandmother gave me the most unexpected, fast and painful beating of my life
Smart at age 7, I walked my crying little self to the nearest police station and reported my grandmother for beating me..lol
So, the cops drove me home to arrest my grandmother, in them telling her to come with them
Reality sets in, and I got hysterical, begging that they not take my granny, please!
Let's just say I was the talk of the family for years.. and she still speaks of this to date.
I had then officially earned myself the title "probleem kind"

Our experiences are plentiful, but what will forever bear close to my heart, is the bond we share
The love I have for her, as well as the love she has for me
I know that she prays tirelessly for me
She sees success in me, and so I shall never live to see disappointment in her eyes
I will work till I see the bones in my hands to ensure that I see tears of joy in her eyes at the prospect of having to wish after nothing
The world will be hers, and through her prayers, I will avail her this
This I promise

The last time I saw her,
I recently went to Tsumeb to go spoil my Queen in the time that my bank account allowed for this
I took her shopping and ensured I bought her all her room needed
Made it over and made her comfortable in a room intended for the Queen she is
She didn't step foot out her room for days in joy and contentment

As she ages, my only wish is that she live to see all that she means to me
For me to be able to avail her all that the world has to offer
That she be healthy enough to enjoy the luxuries
In the mean time however, I will work
Work till exhaustion is my only excuse
Work to keep her happy with the little that I can
But most importantly, I will love the beauty that is the love of my life
She is my grand mother, Lovis Aron.

Take A Chance

Take that leap of faith that sets your destination apart from your reality
Ensure that you take that leap with a spring of joy in your step
Take it with your heart and ensure that your heart beat is the rhythm of the song
Let ballads become an endless vibration seducing your very core
Promising you the world
In the very Promise is a silent whisper
That eases the fear into oblivion
Whispering you truth
A destiny set in place before you were conceived

See, a promise is just that until it is seen out

In every promise is a magical experience of expectation
Deep rooted and anticipating
Wanting, needing and most importantly feeling
Feeling full of joy at the prospect
Why then can you not let those very expectations caress you?
Caress the very breath that it draws away
Ensuring that there never be a bleak day ahead
Promising sunny days, Green Pastures, love filled days
Filled to the brink with all your expectations being seen out into a reality
A reality you will struggle to grasp because it looks awfully similar to your dreams

When your dreams start to intertwine with your reality
Only then are you fully living
As it becomes one series of beauty
It does lie in the beholder
And my prayer is that this beholder only ever see one beauty
and that beauty is me.

Satisfaction

Dissatisfaction will always be our prison, and as you stare through the iron bars into the life you wish to attain, you will never be fully aware of the empty spaces that fill you. Whether it is all in the drive to acquire a mental plan to break those iron bars holding you a prisoner, or whether it is the paralysis of fear is debatable. Ultimately, it all narrows down to a mental prison, or what they have come to name a mental breakdown. 

The need to work because one is not complacency's best friend is admirable, however what then happens when you are UNABLE to take rest. Many will laugh at this absurd idea, not knowing that it in actual fact is plausible. It has happen to many and will continue to do so as humans are generally dissatisfied humans, so much such that engulfs us, or rather me. 

I have been meaning to blog about the unequal distribution of wealth coupled with greed. Now that I am at it, I may as well get into it and later on touch on the subject I had intended to dissect. 

We are quick to point a finger at those in power, easily angered by misuse of power and hell of a lot touched by our want of those very positions. Do not get me wrong when I say that, because many are quick to put up a defensive arm in protecting their vanity. Corruption is not inborn, nor is in embedded in ones DNA, there is no chromosome that reads, 'Will be a thief". No, it is circumstance, opportunity and the oh-mighty greed. That is all it boils down to. So, why then are we so quick to ride on Donald Trumps nuts about being an arrogant bastard, that will tell anyone that cares to listen about his success, never mind the road to this said success. See, he is an honest breed bastard, and I sure as hell admire that in any given person. He does not bask in a lack of self awareness we call humility. He is down right honest to the bone. That He, Donald Trump, worked hard and has the right to squander his money however he pleases. Is this not the very aspirations we too embody, success? Are we not constantly chasing the next level to success, blindly so, that we never sit back and think, wait, is this not the poverty gap I am indeed trying to jump?

In actuality, we are all racing one another trying to be the one who jumps this poverty gap and are then set to the other side, the elite side of things. The side that allows for one to sit back and say "I did it, I can now spend however it is I please". Yet you scorn Mr. Trump, sit your contradicting self down. Now, this is a rather complex thought, and I am finding difficulty in placing it on paper. What I am saying is that we scorn the poverty gap, although rightly so, we are in actual fact not trying to close this gap, we are trying to jump it. We all want our piece of the cake, we all want to be financially comfortable and well, the rare breed wants a legacy. If one is to actually be utterly honest with oneself, why then are you dissatisfied with your given job, it provides a place to sleep and pays the bills, yet you want more. Is that more not better known as greed? See, there, now we want to argue greed and ambition, this is called making up excuses dear sir/madam. To correctly phrase this, we speak ill of greed but we ourselves are greedy. The inequality gap is born out of dissatisfaction which we ALL embody. 

So, I am greedy, I want more. What sets me apart is, I want more but not at the cost of others. I will sow back into my community, and this is not my win-them-over speech. I can stand tall and testify to giving back, when I had nothing to give. It does not make me a better person, it just means I think beyond myself and my aspirations. I stop to think about those with less opportunities then I do, if we could all center our thinking like this, I for-see an equal distribution of resources. Impossible? Well yes, because GREED. 

Back to mental breakdowns, see ambition can engulf you till your eyes are scaled with nothing but that dream. You will, live, eat and breathe that need to succeed. Mornings, are met with a rush to attend to mail, afternoons are met with a rush to attend to meetings and evenings are filled with more work than you can complete. Sleep eludes you, because of this dream you see and need to curb your way to by all means and costs. Forgetting however, that sleep is to be a part of the equation of success. 

Fear of complacency is every driven persons fear, not fear as popularly believed. Fear is embraced as a learning curve, complacency however is avoided like a plague. It is in this avoiding that sleep is not seen as a priority, if anything, books are read that tell of success persons who survive on 4 hours sleep, and look at this wambo try duplicate this. Now, by all means, read success stories and derive from it formulas that too can work for you, but my DZIA PREASE LEST!!

Mental breakdowns are an actual thing, not a myth put in place by the first world order in an attempt to scare the average person off a dream. Yal read way too much illuminati / first world order conspiracies. When you are over whelmed by your responsibilities, so much so that there is always one or the other thing that needs doing, re-evaluate your life and prioritize, This is why the importance of a life plan is stressed, because you can not grab every ball life throws your way. Choose them well and in turn walk that beautiful road to success. Complacency is not an awful thing if placed right, if you are at a place in your life where that's the road you ought to be walking, do not be staring at that of the next person and in turn leave yourself wanting. That's the imprisonment I spoke of earlier, your life does not need to be a prison always looking to be freed into the life of another. Live your own life and be happy in it, if not, quit staring at iron bars and bloody well make it what you want. Ain't nobody got time. *drops mic*

Bare my Soul

Temptation is just that, a clawing hand that draws you with images of perfection.. or rather what we perceive to be perfection, whilst in actuality it is all but a dream. All but a collage of the life we wished was bestowed upon us. Only, that clawing hand promises more then it is willing to deliver. So where is the glitch, is it in attaining this life we dream of, or in the road one needs to travel to attain it.. 

See perfection is too in the eyes of the beholder, as what may satisfy you may not satisfy the next person. 

"She claws onto the toilet seat, gasping for air. What she thought was a nightmare she could wake up from was her new reality. It hurt, hurt more then any fathomed pain she thought herself able to endure. See, right there is the glitch, she doesn't think she can live though it. The pain is too unbearable. Too deep. Her only thought is, "How could she?". She was mad at her life long best friend, who took the only thing she held dear. The love of her life. "Fcuk her", is her second thought. "They can both go screw themselves". Ironically that is exactly what they did. 

She grew up with a little more then a sack cloth to cover herself from the wrath of a cold night. Trusted little and vowed to never be vulnerable. On the dusty streets of Katutura, you learn to be hard as stone. You learn to fight the biggest of the bullies, in attempt to stay relevant, and more yet to not be looked down upon. Only, with this hard soul to the world, was a vision that no one could steal from her even in the cold of the night. She had a dream to fulfill, she wanted success. By all means possible she scrambled pennies, sold bottles at super markets who would award you with little more then was fair. With that she saved, and went to school. Her luck came one fateful day, when her teacher took notice of her. For all the wrong reasons of course. She looked rowdy, and was months behind on school fees payments. Yet, she continued coming to school regardless how they probed her to stay away. Until, she was sent to the principals office, in teachers in vane attempt at getting her thrown out.

 The principal saw something in her, a light and a burning desire she could not turn a blind eye too. After all, her professional vision was trained to spot talent and ambition a  mile away. She took her in and molded her to all that she is today. From a dead rose bush, she sprung into a beautiful Lilly. She shone, and came top in all her classes. This was to ensure that life didn't grab from her the opportunity some can only dream of whilst others take it for granted. And so success was hers.

 To the day 24 September 2006, she had not let a soul in. aaand then she met him. He was a picturesque view, looked as though he was cut straight out a catalog. Her heart melted at the sight of him, and she stared till he noticed her. It must have been love at first sight as it seemed every puzzle piece found its mate piece. Right behind him, was a tall dark haired model, she mistakenly presumed. She too was gorgeous, she looked up and waved her over. Awkwardly, she stumbled toward the pair, unaware of what she was doing or where she was going. She was drawn, to him, to her. That day, she spoke to these two strangers. She spoke and told them her story, from the very raw detail of gang fights, to the sleepless nights of med school. He instantly became her significant other and she instantly became her best friend. They were the trio! 

"How stupid was she to not detect their clear attraction to one another?", she thought. They were friends for 16 years, and she theirs for 8! That fateful day,she opened her heart up, bare! She wore her heart on her sleeve from that day onward, and everything changed. This rock heard hearted girl, changed! She smiled more often and embodied the Lilly she was likened to. 

Now everything went dark. Her soul gave out, and everything seemed to lack the light it needed. 

She packed her bags and moved. She never looked back. She left and made a start for new beginnings. After all, the only mother she knew was long dead. 

See, she was in love with the idea of the significant other and her heart. She believed that they could be trusted, but even in her perfect picture and its fantasy, she saw cracks. She saw those very cracks and turned a blind eye. They lived the life many could only dream of and had the physique to match this life. She beautiful, him handsome. They took me under their wings and molded me into the African queen I thought I was destined to be. Years went by, and I wanted what they had, but I was never brought up to drown in envy, so I locked it up, only it stayed. Although, they had character traits that came with having more then you could ask for, insecurity was high on the list. I remember one drunken night she said, "You know babe, I envy you". That was the end of that.

Now, I see. Although they had the life one could call perfect, they lacked the one thing any human is to embody, authenticity!

"What we are all striving for is authenticity, a spirit-to-spirit connection" - Oprah Winfrey 

Broken

They all see past me, ignore my very core existence. Make no effort to acknowledge my presence at any given occasion. They all laugh and smother her with love, cuddling and hugging her. It is by no means jealousy as it is envy. I am not jealous of what affection they give her, as I don’t want it. I am envious of her persona, who she is and what she stands for. I crave to embody her traits, so much so that I have fantasies where I am her and her ability to not be a prig. The whole debacle had become a truism to me.

I shrivel at the thought of what is about to happen, as I am fully aware. He strips me of my clothing, without a hint of gentleness. First, he tears at my pants, yanking them off me, and still I don’t make a sound. He wears a look of belligerence in his eyes, coupled by a hint of anger. The resentment is evident in his smirk, alongside it vanity. He looks me in the eye, daring me to fight, daring me to move, and daring me to make an escape from his filthy, blood reeking hands. I make no move to leave, nor fight his rough hands. He continues to cut my shirt open, revealing my bare braless chest. To his satisfaction, I wince. I look away, and count the minutes away, that feel like years. He rapes me.

Even as a I play this thought out, it does not come close to the reality I wish upon myself. Years of hatred towards men, has grown heart deep and has poisoned me like un-oxygenated air, beginning to fill the spaces that linger. It runs in my veins, jumping synapses and not missing a beat. It’s engulf is consolation for what I have done, the lies I have told. Buried so deep in my hate for men, I have forgotten its origin. What was supposed to be a mere day dream, turned into a reality when one fateful day I was unable to stop the words from tumbling out my broken heart and saying the words, “He raped me.”

It was the perfect lie, as it justified my inability to get along with men, it justified my lack of respect but most of all it provided room for pity. I saw it in their eyes, the want to hold me and wish the pain away. Only, the pain was not of a man forcefully taking my one priced possession. No, it was pain that ran to the day of my birth. The man who helped in my creation walked out on his creation. It made me feel as though I was not enough, as though the bundle of joy a child is to be, was not bundled enough. That his heart could not skip a beat at the sight of me, that his heart could not fill with love for me such that it is all he knew. See this is where it all began, but no one knows.

Instead, they feed off my negative energy which gives them reason enough to stay away, to keep their distance, to treat me like glass. Glass, has the properties with which I have lived all my life. It shields the wind threatening to disperse anything that may lay in its wake, yet one looks right through it. I am that glass, I am that reflection that only shows face in the sight of darkness. Only then can one see the reflection that is a girl begging to be seen.

I envy her ability to forget that our father walked out on us. She is able to smile regardless of the neglect that is an absent father. Her ability to smile, shine and be all that she is destined to be without being crippled by things that cannot be changed. Why then am I unable to take back the lie, that I was not raped. Instead, I should tell the truth, “I was robbed of a father”.

This is purely fiction. It’s something I am trying out. Post your comment and let me know what you think.

Simple

I never fully grasped the idea of, “If you do what you love, you will never have to work a day in your life’, the wisest words to ever grace the world of phrases. If one is to dissect this saying and magnify its meaning as though under a microscope. It tells the story of the most successful figures to date. The love one has for your choice of expertise is what defines your level of success. If one is to look at the story of the man who build America, and date it back to the 1800’s, John D. Rockefeller,

took his love to make deals and built an empire from what was nothing to something.. Most success stories are sugar coated and give you a brief look into what is the actual story. No one breaks it down to the rainy days when defeat was all that they could fathom and tear so frustration loomed behind their eyes. No one tells you of the days when their cheeks were as familiar with tears down their given path as the path that is taken by oxygenated air. See motivational speaking is just that, it is designed to lead you to this path of green pastures, to guarantee you the sunny day at the end of the grey tunnel. However banal this may be, it is exactly that which boils down to how passionate and motivated you are to see out your dream.

The world has three categories, the ones who build empires and are on Forbes Most powerful list, those that work for the empire builders, and lastly those that refuse to see out the power manifested in them. You can choose your category pretty easy, because they are miles apart. Now, what makes all this all the more interesting is neither of these classes have more traits given to the one then the other. Not one has got better functioning synapses, neither has chromosomes with special enhancements, no. It all boils down to being human and not limiting your imagination. The one thing that can limit you is your medulla, if you are to tell yourself you will not take the risk to see out your dreams, then sweetheart, go build another persons dream it is that simple.

I cannot begin to Can

See remorse is something that can not be taught to another being. It is not something that thy parent can teach you, nor is it something that can be staged, because ultimately one will be able to see through the fabricated emotion. Although this may sound banal, it actually does boil down to a point. In the papers following the killing of a young struggle child, I saw many things but remorse.  I saw that the politicians were to ensure that a full investigation was seen through, I saw that some wanted to justify the killing with questions that if answered would leave a blue faced parliament. What bothered me most, has to be the fact that in the instance that one asked where remorse was, justifications were given, but even after all this, not a hint of remorse. 

Now pardon me if I am wrong, but is this not the very government we voted into power and were granted the power to ensure our rights are protected. Does this or does it not require remorse in the instance of a loss of life, especially to the hands of the very people assigned to protect lives. The whole scenario sounds like a huge paradox that refuses to end. Yes, ultimately there may have been some provocations form both parties and matters were mishandled, but remorse cannot be bought nor implemented nor assigned to a certain resolution. It is in born, I do not speak up against a political party, nor a certain individual, I speak up for those voted into power to not forget their humanity.

Power changes people it has been said, no! Power changes those who let themselves drown in an artificially created life that doesn’t last forever. Has it not been proven that politics is a dirty game?  The very people you eat with today can scorn you tomorrow. So do not lose your humanity in the midst of trying to protect and keep what has become your norm. I have to congratulate Mr. Ngurare who in the midst of havoc, did not lash out at anyone nor try point fingers at a guilty party, but ensured that the sent his condolences first and fore most. Is this not what we speak of, that if you are to be in charge of making my laws, never mind protecting them, that you be able to relate to me.

There are many things wrong with the parliament and I can spend endless days pointing out just what these things are, varying from the fact that there are too many middle men in the carrying out of tasks assigned to government. How are you placed in the seat of a ministry by people, this is the 1^st person of the cycle, you employ people to carry out tasks, this is 2^nd person of the cycle, after which you then employ people to award tenders, this is the 3^rd person, this person awards the tenders, 4^th person, this person assigns sub-contractors, this the 5^th person. Now bare in mind I am under no circumstances against the notion of employment opportunities, but can these employment opportunities be maximized and not be petty jobs put in an endless line of irrational job creation. If one were to maximize on the two people, in the success of this project, trust and believe more will come. Ever notice how consulting firms maximize on  the employees they have hence the fast rate at which they grow. Learn something.

Same goes with compensation, the moment one takes responsibility and sees something for what it is, it reduces the chances of losing yourself. If you can maintain and sustain your true self, matters such as remorse will not have to be written about so that realization can set in. These are lessons taught at home, they shouldn’t b taught in newspapers, but such is Namibia. 

We should all be feminists

“The only person that defines you, is you”, may be the biggest lie ever told by the very people who may overrule your actual personality and mold it into what they see fit. To be the sort of person who does not let society cultivate you and mold you into what is perceived normal, has to be about one of the worlds biggest envies I have. Although, I have to admit I have come across no such person in the short life that I have lived. Kanye West said, “What you want? A Bentley? A fur coat? A diamond ring? All you blacks want all the same thing.” Now, to fully grasp the brilliance in those lyrics, you need to strip his egotist self from the lyrics and see them for the truth they speak. Whether consciously or sub-consciously we are all the epitome of mediocre. We all aspire to the same things, and all our dreams are pretty much all different shades of grey, but nonetheless still grey.

The ability to shake the shackles that have been locked onto our ancestors and have been passed on from generation to generation is a task I am not about to assign to myself, but I am allowed to think beyond these shackles. To in actuality rid me of this desire to be successful at what I am passionate about, to become more then what my mind can grasp or even begin to imagine. See, this is what we are taught at home and then it is completely up to you, as to whether or not you will conform or go astray. By astray, we mean quit school to go pursue music and become a kwaito artist, because that is where your heart is at, LOL at the dream. See, there, there it is, the laughter at the ideaof succeeding in an industry that is pretty much dominated by the two tycoons, namely Gazza and The Dogg (I am Namibian, hence you can google them and if you must know, I have their personal phone numbers. Yes, I had to throw it in there damnit, wining!). Ok, in all seriousness, this is what we are programmed to believe in, that one has to choose a field of study that is guaranteed a job in the mediocre market and then you are to choose your prince charming and run off in the glazing sun of Windhoek with your happily-in-debt after. You are to smile and nod your head when his mother insist his cousin Nangula and Martha come live with you whilst they finish University in the city of bright lights. You are to not decline this, because if you do, every oshiwambo household will then continue to bad mouth your selfish self who perceives family as you, husband and pig-tailed children.

A speech delivered by Nigerian author Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie at a TEDxEuston conference in April 2013

“We teach girls to shrink themselves, to make themselves smaller. We say to girls, 'You can have ambition, but not too much. You should aim to be successful, but not too successful. Otherwise you will threaten the man.' Because I am female, I am expected to aspire to marriage. I am expected to make my life choices always keeping in mind that marriage is the most important. Now marriage can be a source of joy and love and mutual support. But why do we teach girls to aspire to marriage and we don’t teach boys the same? We raise girls to see each other as competitors – not for jobs or for accomplishments, which I think can be a good thing, but for the attention of men. We teach girls that they cannot be sexual beings in the way that boys are. Feminist: the person who believes in the social, political and economic equality of the sexes.”

Men who are threatened by the idea of a successful woman have two things that need correcting. 1. Unshackle yourself sir 2. Understand that a woman is to be your partner, not your inferior. Until, we can correct those very mentalities, it is rather pointless hosting an argument with a closed minded man in the 21^st century. See, feminism can be a very tricky issue, because we as woman tend to blindly chase after it and get caught up on the sexist hype. If one is to listen to songs such as “Who run the world” by Beyonce, that is a sexist song. Yet, many don’t see it for that. Ia m not here to shed light on a matter of sexism, because I am no sexist. The idea, that one should see both sexes as equals is where I am at.

Now, correct me if I am wrong, but we are now living in an era where woman no longer aspire to marriage, although it may be in their life-long goals, it is not their main focus. What is most appealing, is that in such an instance, woman of this mind set are builders and will make kick ass (pun) wives. Now, miss me with that “depend on a man” talk. I want to want him, not for what he can do for me but for what we can do for each other. Not, how he can cater to my financial needs, but that he can cater to my soul. I need us to be compatible, on all levels. That he see me as his partner and not his responsibility. That he need me and not fear looking weak.

I am a feminist, what most will call a dreamer. After all Martin Luther King did say “I have a dream”.

Plot Twist

 Patience is but a virtue is what we are told every time we want to push boundaries the small mind cannot fathom. The fact that beings tend to want to rub their misguided perceptions onto another is the biggest downfall of humanity, yet I think in it lies the key. Society is so boxed up, that only those that dare see beyond the glaze of the sun, and stare at it till it blinds you into the real light, succeed. Technically, if everyone dared see beyond what their mind is programmed to see we would all be flying high in the towers of the Upper East Side, unfortunately some need to be maids and others need to be the bosses.

I felt compelled to reply to a piece I read, literally 5 minutes ago. That the gifted are blessed with the curse of being too brilliant (like there is such a thing), such that certain characteristics go unnoticed, which was then backed by society will see what it wants to see, regardless how brilliant your mind may be, if you are beautiful, that is what they will see, forget your mind (This was an awfully long sentence, but it had to be said in exactly that order).  Now, I beg to differ, because the human mind decided what society will shift its focus on. Let me give an example the football lovers can fathom, take David Beckham, a brilliant soccer player who went to go make millions off a clothing line and his looks. I put him next to Cristiano Ronaldo, yet again, a brilliant soccer player who is so passionate about football, it is his only focus. The man who will push, come hook, line or sinker to be the footballer of the year and win a Balon d’or, although he is equally appealing, that is not the first thing you notice. When one mentions Cristiano Ronaldo what comes to mind is his love for football. On the other hand, when I mention David Beckham, what comes to mind is his wife (Victoria Beckham is a fine woman) and pretty boy next to her. The two footballers are both made of the same cloth, yet they sell you two different personas. Which drives my argument home, society will take what you give it.

We have the likes of Dilma Rousseff (The President of Brazil), a gorgeous yellow bone who makes brains look so damn appealing. See her deliver a speech and it is blatantly obvious that this talented species does not give you her looks first, she gives you stature and power which oozes out of her very pores. Sealing the very notion that one cannot begin to blame and point a manicured nail to the society you speak of and bring to the table what they refuse to notice. You need to take a hard look in that reflective glass and question, who do you let people see?

When woman who enter male dominated fields give you this pity talk of not being seen for what they are, and only for their sex. I want to take a bucket of ice and make them my very own ALS Ice Bucket nominees. “Just stand up tall, look them in the face and say. I am that star up in the sky, I am that mountain peaking high, can you see it, I am the world’s greatest”. If as a woman you are to use the argument of sexism, in your own dethroning of the queen you are. You don’t deserve a seat in that company! No woman, that sees herself as inferior to a man, should be put as an equal. It’s a whole new plot twist to the feminist, because in order to be hailed such, you need to live it, believe it and sure as hell be it. Nothing about proving your position, because in proving, it means you have already lost. It irks me, to my very synapses, that one can be so blinded as to the power they possess, the same that was granted to Margaret Thatcher (May her soul Rest In Peace) is manifested in you, it may not be the same talent, but it’s the same power.

There is not a successful character on this round ball with blue waters, who does not let their passion shine through above all, hence the success. Every character that is a success at their choice of expertise are in essence always passionate about their field. So, when told “patience is but a virtue”, they will soon see you for what it is you are. No, don’t box me up. Don’t cage me in the trap that is patience and waiting for life to hand you your box of chocolates. Honey, I will hack the Cadbury site and search for the recipe myself if push comes to shove. Ultimately, you create yourself first and for most. Secondly, you should not let society rule over your dream of that creation. Thirdly, there is no such time as now. Which leaves me to a fourthly, I do not want to be a maid!

Figment of your imagination

Hide behind words displaying eloquence

Paint livid pictures of what your complex mind sees

Because in modern society beauty and brains are as far apart as the seas

No one dares go against the status quo

Daring any soul to stand against the perceived ordinary

If not,

Why then does the majority of woman blatantly bask in ignorance

Is it not the ambiance and flair that creates a mystifying mystery

Around a woman who utters nothing of great intelligence?

Pardon me for laughing at this absurd idea

We do not live in a country as that of India

Where woman are wedded to whoever is the highest bidder

We live in modern society, where woman can be leaders

Its no longer a dogma to gain education

As is with using your imagination in this nation

Which is what has me flabbergasted

At the mere thought of falling into a bed of roses

Roses that come with thorns of ignorance

It is no longer sexy and you know it

What is now considered increasingly beautiful

Is a woman of stature and brains full of much more than a love for make-up

But literature, poetry and social issues

Seeks to be independent rather than be dependent

As men now want someone who will build with them

Gone are the days you left your figment without imagination.

Lead me not into darkness

Lead me into Darkness

There lays depth in your heart

That dances with music

Your hands drum with the depth of a love,

A love for music

A key, a note – it’s all musical

Don’t tell me to loose myself in the world

No, the world has nothing to offer my love for rhythm

Tell me to loose myself in the rhythm of your voice

The melody of your laughter

Or the simple breath taken by surprise

Understand that you cannot understand

No, Its not a paradox its rhetorical

My mind is so deep it lingers for a minute,

Forgotten are the seconds ticking away

So lost in thought about this soul

Nah, this is not a cliché, hear me out

Music destined this encounter

A love for production, my production

Yet I can’t seem to tune this into place

Or make it fade into the background

It demands my attention more often then I care to give

Engulfing my mind into the open hours of the am

It’s not infatuation, nor is it lust

It’s a power that draws me

Magnifies the mind, Letting me peer and search

Search for a depth, A depth I’m not sure I want to discover

It leads me into darkness

A darkness I want to drown into at 2am

Lead me not into darkness, Nor into Temptation

Violence

Where have we failed men?

Has society taken your soul and left you bare? Incapable of comprehending beyond the twisted life we live in. Enabling you to kill, disabling your ability to think and crippling you with hate?

When did taking anothers life become the ultimate escape? No matter how hurt or painful a situation may be, it can never justify taking a life. 

Just a Thought

As every bird, you need to shed a feather\

Not in the hope of flocking with another

But in letting go of what doesn't provide protection

Similarly you need to shed a tear

Not to give up hope

But to realize that you need to travel through the dark to appreciate the light. 

Love is Charity

Charity cannot be defined simply, nor can it be wished away by confounds. Despite differences in culture or social strata, nothing brings to bear the essence of humanity more than the ethos of charity.  Can one can look at charity in the eyes of Mother Theresa who personified charity in its greatest form, or the poor old lady who walks past a vagrant in the streets of Windhoek, and scratches  her wallet for coins? The point is that everyone may have their own definition for the word ‘CHARITY’, but what we will all not be in doubt about is the word ‘GIVING’.

Every individual can be a philanthropist in their own right, it is the individual who chooses to embrace their giving side that has a bigger heart. Most of us are very hesitant to give a beggar money when in town as we believe many tend to use the money on self- degrading consumables such as alcohol. Stereotyping the situation leaves those who are genuinely in need, having a bad eye cast upon them as those similar to them have misused “givers’. Charity is learnt at home, preached in every way yet we are so selfish. It is giving that old shoe that is gathering dust at the back of your cupboard or simply not throwing out the left overs from Sunday lunch and choosing to give it to a homeless child the next day. That is the mentality we should adopt. The most touching thing I have seen is a 6 year old who always finishes her dinner and says “I have to finish my food, because I do not want to end up like those children on the street’. That a four year old can appreciate what she has is what most is touching.

 Charity has been my a passion since the age of 7, having grown up in a fragile part of Tsumeb, I learnt that giving and sharing a little can go a long way.

It is my dream to own an orphanage someday, however a dream is just a dream until it is accompanied by action. I would like to start by asking that you partner with me, give what you can, and as one crawls before you walk, we can as the Namibian Nation crawl together and one day walk for the Orphans and very needy persons of our country and united in giving to those in dear need.  One needs to start somewhere.

“CHARITY BEGINS AT HOME” and Namibia is our home. Join me, and let’s make difference

The Absence of a father

“If you are man enough to make a child, you should be man enough to take care of the child” are the famous words by Dianne Hubbard. According to the Oxford English Dictionary a father is a man who provides care and protection, those being the two essential possessions a child needs growing up. Every child needs the protection of a father figure, it not only helps in character building, but with the mind-set the child grows up with. It is a well known fact that a child brought up without a father stands an 80% chance of also walking out on their child. A man is supposed to be the care-taker, the one who teaches responsibility, but not only teaches it but lives it. The best way to teach a child is to be what you are teaching, and when a man walks out on his family that is what the child will pick up as a result. Thus creating a cycle, and that is what we see in our world today.

 

A mass of Namibian citizens in our day and time tend to take the responsibilities of parenthood lightly. Every child needs to grow up with a father, someone to teach them how to be a man. A household needs someone to keep it in check, to ensure good manners are taught and responsibility is sowed. Every child needs fatherly love, as well as love from a mother. 

One needs to strike a balance between the two, to allow the child an opportunity to grow to their full potential without the lack of one or the other. Being a father is not only amongst the most difficult jobs in the world, but it too is extremely challenging. Taking into consideration the expenses, emotional strain and hard decisions that come with the job description. The question at hand is, is that reason enough for fathers to flee the responsibility?

It is widely known worldwide that today, father absence is among the most pervasive social problem challenging not only Namibia, but Africa as a continent. The presence of a responsible father improves a variety of outcomes for children and serves as a protective factor against problem behaviours including teen drug use, pregnancy, truancy, and criminal activity. Thus, it is a necessity to support and encourage fathers to become more present and actively involved in their child's life. While the vision is to have all fathers positively involved in the lives of their children and families, mentoring or having the presence of a positive father figure in the absence of a father has proven to be a powerful tool for helping youth reach their full potential.

Namibian Statistics

 Never married                        -           56%

Married legally                       -           28%

Informally Cohabiting             -           7%

Women as head of house         -           45%

Fathers around after age 12     -           20%

Namibian fathers are known to neglect their responsibilities, simply choosing to not follow through. Statistics show that only 12% of fathers are still around after the age of 12, meaning after the age of 12, 88% of Namibian children do not have father figures. Children grow up with single mothers, who struggle to pay rent, let alone pay school fees. Resulting in an ocean of guilt as they feel they are the result of all the suffering experienced by the household. Every child deserves a chance at a happy life. Yes, it is no guarantee that had the father been around, they would be better off. That brings us to the responsibility issue, four out of ten Namibians say Namibian fathers are responsible in comparison to other developing countries. So why is it then that there are so many fatherless children in Namibia?
 

It was found that compared to children with father figures, children without contact with their fathers were five times more likely to live in poverty and twice as likely to commit crimes and to drop out of school. Suicide and teenage pregnancy were too laid on the table. By all measures and actions, dads can too be the “mothers” of a household (Magenya, 2001). “This did not detract from my mom, because she has been a great father”, says Magenya. Mothers tend to call the shots and teach that being a woman took nothing away from one’s ability to do r be anything you set your mind to. It does something to a child to learn gentleness from a man and strength from a woman.
 

It is said that the main reason we have such an alarming rate of single mothers is due to the fact that the last generation did not have fathers due to a Namibia having being war-torn and so the cycle continues. This results in children acting out, falling pregnant and abusing drugs. They not only face the fact that their fathers are absent but they too have to deal with the public eye. Children without fathers tend to perform poorly in comparison to fathered children. The child’s potential is “crippled” by the absence of a father thus not growing to their full potential.

As a Namibian nation we can grow towards a better future, by not only realising the problem, but working toward changing it. Informing the public on the effects the absence of a father has on the child, encouraging marriage and mentoring. By mentoring a fatherless child we help break the cycle and thus break the chain. As generation after generation fathers walk out on children as they know nothing about being a father, mentoring will thus teach them how to be a father. Yes, we have a lack of responsible fathers, but one step at a time and that can all be fixed.

“There is no greater love then that of a father and a mother, but nothing hurts more than the lack of it”- Morris Kalunduka. Every child deserves the equal opportunity to live to their full potential without being “crippled” by the absence of a father. Fathers are supposed to be the care-takers and the protectors. Yes, being a father is not the easiest job, but that brings us back to the phrase by Dianne Hubbard, “No child should suffer the consequences of an irresponsible father”. No child deserves to grow up without a father figure.  

The Hunger

Engulfs and eats at my bare soul. Bare of all fear and lack of ambition, but filled to the brink of the glass with pure determination. This is the constant reminder that one can and will make it with the right attitude towards your dreams. Filled with clichés and overly used phrases like “If your dream doesn't scare you, then it’s not big enough”. Whoever did utter those words was not high on some narcotics, because it is pure genius. Ones dreams have to be larger then life, such that it engulfs you and gives insomnia a victim every other night. Clawing on your flesh and eating at your brain to invent the idea that will set you off to that billion dollar benchmark.

You see, dreaming and adjusting ones attitude is just but the beginning, achieving is a whole other ball game. Firstly, I want to succeed in life, I have the end vision but when I play it out in sequence I reach a blurr - The actual lead up to the dramatic sound effects as the curtains close, laughter and smiles fill the audience. I cannot remember what leads to the final act in the play, how and where the billion dollar idea manifests into a reality. I am at loss, which is where my hunger engulfs and wins. 

You Sold Your Youth

We are the youth is the biggest lie told by the young. If you are not to capitalize on the youth in you, then you do not reserve the right to call yourself that. Pardon me for my lack of optimism because I presume we have ran out of positive replies to give. Yearly there are speeches and endless articles written aimed at empowering the said youth. Looking to have us dust our ashy feet off, and see the power manifested in our blinded souls. 

Yet today I read the saddest article to date, 90 pupils pregnant in the year 2014 alone. Now, as the title YOUTH is stripped off you, understand that it is not I that strips you of this, but you yourself. It is not I that made the decision to have sex, never mind unprotected sex, but it is you. More often than I would like to admit, we tend to always want to point a blame finger to the government that is not raising awareness on the matter of unprotected sex which is false by the way. If you are mature enough to engage in the act of unprotected sex well, pardon me for stripping you off the naivety that comes with one uninformed of the after effects of unprotected sex. You get pregnant boo boo, that’s the beginning of the story.

I strip you of your youth because you have now crossed over to the adult world, regardless your age. Pregnancy equals adulthood because you are a mother simply buffering and pending the unexpected troubles of a troubled mother. Call me judgmental, ill so, but I shall stand firm and quit buttering the bread on both sides and hand you a dry slice of reality. That reality is that opportunity is ample, and if you will decide to simply go after pleasure without the afterthought then you are no longer a part of the youth, because you sold your youth.