Everyday you wake up to one story or the other where someone has said or done something offensive and now their head is on the line.
When I started this blog, I knew that only two thing really mattered
The whole world probably knows about my mother. So if you missed this on her birthday, redeem yourself on mother’s day. Enjoy.
Happy mother’s day mum!
On special days like this one, I would usually go on Facebook and write a fairly long epistle to honour the one I’m celebrating. But this year, Facebook seems a limited audience for what I’m about to share. So I’m just going to use this platform, and I ask that you indulge me for a moment.
I know everyone in the world was born of a woman, and for sure, your mum, biological or otherwise, is the bestest mum in the whole universe. So we’re all grateful for mums everywhere who have sacrificed a portion or all of themselves for their children, biological and otherwise. Ever since I became a mother, I began to see life quite differently. Less of myself and more of some other person. The truth is, even though I should boast of such a love for my husband, I cannot deny that somewhere inside of me…
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So when your plans have twisted around themselves like a ball of rubber band, and all that's left in your hand is your NOW, ask yourself: "Will I go on living?
Before people could see things on a microscopic level, I wonder what they must have thought about the existence of germs. If we can't see them with our eyes then are they really there?
When I think about Africa, my heart bleeds out from all the holes punctured by my thoughts. It's as though it wears a curse as a cloak, dancing around the fires of ineptitude and mediocrity, to the beat of the drums that the rest of the world is playing.
Where else can I be vulnerable? Where else will I let my hair down? Where else would I never be ashamed of my weaknesses, except in the company of friends?
These very frequent episodes when the spirit is willing, but the flesh is highly unable to assist, so it lies limp, like a dead cat.
But one day, this woman looked me in both eyes and said: "You and your brothers are the reason I'm still here". Heart. Stop. I think I felt guilty. But then I didn't understand. My guilt should have been gratitude instead.
As I wrote my goodbye email to colleagues on my last day at work, it took nerves of steel to push my fingers to type 'God bless you guys'. I did it with trepidation, already counting the number of people who might roll their eyes when they got to that part.