Just in case I haven’t thanked you

I am not going to say thank you for the million bucks you gave me because I am sure I would have jumped, hugged, squeezed you and shouted at the top of my voice for the world to hear.

Neither am I going to thank you for the things that you did in full view of everyone.

But today I am going to thank you for the smallest things, that you did when no one was watching, without giving thought or didn’t even expect me to thank you for. Those things that you have done for so many other people just because you are you.

Thank you for giving me a lift in the rain.
Thank you for opening your door even when you didn’t feel like company
Thank you for kind words, when you spared my heart from damage
Thank for letting me rumble on about myself when you yourself needed to let out stuff
Thank you for thinking of me and checking up on me, you called at the right moment
Thank you for standing up for me even when I was aware.
Thank you for reaching out even when I didn’t notice, I was too busy.
Thank you for believing in me and letting everyone know my worth
Thank you for reading my mind and taking action when I felt helpless
Thank you for taking the burden,even when I thought I could do it by myself

Through all of this you showed me that you are my true friend. So just in case I was too busy to thank you, today I have decided to thank you and hope that one day I can be the friend that you have been to me.


When is too much, too much???

As life’s struggles continue to hit me, I often get surprised at myself as to how far I have come and survived and if I will continue to survive.
Apart from the craziness that I am currently dealing with, a new catastrophe of epidemic proportions if looming. Together with my children, I am part of the 250 000 Zimbabweans living in South Africa, who were issued with special work permits are due to be sent back to Zimbabwe because South Africa can no longer accommodate us.
What does it all mean to a Zimbabwean like me, to my children and our livelihood? I have lived in South Africa for the last 6 years, my son was born here in and my daughter is in school here. Because of the constant challenges I have faced in my stay in South Africa, I have not been able to live comfortably or afford to build a life for myself should I return to Zimbabwe.
Zimbabwe our home country cannot absorb all the 250 000 of its own people because the economy is in doldrums. Botswana is now also contemplating driving out Zimbabweans.
When the day comes for us to pack and leave, where will I head to with my kids? Probably back to Zimbabwe to start rebuilding my life from scratch.It means I will have to look for a means of income where there 80% unemployment, a roof of our head since I do not own a house in Zimbabwe, a school for my daughter.
Because we will not be the only ones in this situation, I am sure everything will quadruple in prices because of the high demand. With no money what will we survive on??? A source of many sleepless nights I have had to endure.
I have been quite, trying to quieten my soul, to stand in faith and believe that whatever happens it will work in my favour somehow. That as bleak and darker the situation gets, I will find a way out somehow I have survived and will survive…
– See more at: http://www.bloggymoms.com/profiles/blogs/when-is-too-much-too-much?xg_source=activity#sthash.GzWrR111.dpuf


hey iris

DSC_7896DSC_7892  book insides collage

While Target moved its whole section of awesome notebooks into a black hole (and replaced it with a weird line of neon stuff), found these incredibly nerdy and incredibly fantastic notebooks. They’re super nice and the pop of color on the inside is great. They have a cool techy embossed design on each cover and the terabyte, megabyte, and kilobyte covers? too cool. Kilobyte has a grid pattern inside, Megabyte has a lined pattern, and Terabyte is blank.

Why am I telling you about this? Besides the fact that they are really cool (ice cold), I am doing a giveaway! One winner will receive all three notebooks. I’m really excited about doing this giveaway, as part of my #successfulsummer, and because I want to share great things with you guys. 🙂 Also, this blog has passed it’s first birthday about two weeks ago and this is it’s belated…

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A mother’s grief as observed by a teenager

As grey clouds fill the sky
So does the pain that fills her heart
As sudden cries ring all around her
She looks at him, her fragile peaceful baby.

She looks at the shoes she bought him the past summer
His shiny little bald head as if reflecting all the happiness he brought her
The contrast of his dark eyes lashes against his nutmeg colored chubby cheeks
She is drawn to him, wanting to cuddle him again one more time

But its too late now
How could she have known,
How could God take away her reason to live,
Her happiness, she doesn’t understand

She looks at the rose in her hand
Her love, the first and last gift to him
As she places it across his little chest
She closes her eyes, to hide forever

She imagines holding him again
His small warm body against her chest
But when she opens her eyes
She sees the small coffin being lowered into the ground

She wants to run and save him
Tell everyone that she can’t let go
She can’t lose him forever
She would rather go with him

She struggles against those holding her
Finds her strength ebbing away
She finally lets out a wail,
Allows the tears she has been holding back to fall

Her kinsman and community cry with her
She finds strength in those who hold her
Slowly it is becoming true that her boy is gone
He may be gone but certainly not forgotten

(Written by Nyasha Makumbe 4/7/14)

I sing Him a new song

When I am down and my soul is troubled,
I sing Him a new a song.
And rivers of tears flood my cheeks
I sing Him a new song.

In my loneliness and hurt
I sing Him a new song
As my tortured heart bleeds
I sing Him a new song.

And words fail to form a prayer
I sing Him a new song
To say the things I cannot tell anyone else
I sing Him a new song.
With so much to say but don’t know how to
I sing Him a new song

No fear of being judged and criticised
I sing him a new song
No verses, no stanzas, no chorus
I sing Him a new song

To empty my fears and negative thoughts
I sing Him a new song
To pour out my heaviness in my heart
I sing Him a new song

To find strength to make it through another day
I sing Him a new song
Tonight I share this with you
As I sing Him a new song

My beloved friend and mentor

When I first saw her, she was sitting at the end of the table like the head with people around her looking like subjects intently listening to their queen. I would see her on several occasion particularly on Wednesdays and I used wonder what she was about. Why everyone kind of looked up to her. She always seemed to be sharing something with them. Maybe she is a rich, famous, celebrated figure I thought to myself and I was right but not in the way I thought.

She is rich indeed, giving of herself to whoever she encounters. She has made it her point to give everyone she meets something. Could be a kind word, word of advice, money if she has, sometimes emptying her pockets, but what she gives most is love even to perfect strangers. There seems to be a huge never ending well of inspiration, abundance and strength inside of her that often makes me wonder how she does it. When I ask her, she says she has no idea, motivating others also motivates her so she makes it a point to motivate someone every day. Wow!!!

Because she spreads love, motivation and inspiration wherever she goes, she is known throughout the world even in places she has never been. They have come to know and share the story of a remarkable woman who has made it her life’s mission to serve others.

We celebrate her for her sterling work but mostly for just being who she is. Even her guide dog Shyan is also celebrated getting loads of pats and cuddles where they go are called to inspire and motivate. She is a businesswoman in her own right heading several organizations and is also an ambassador to South African Guide Dogs, raising funds so that more people can be helped with the services of guide dogs. She has studied Human Design to get a better understanding of herself and others the imparting the knowledge to everyone she encounters.

At times she gets mad when someone who is not disabled uses the disabled parking spot, I laugh at her because I know that she doesn’t realize that because of her aura, drive and energy, even strangers see her past the disability which I prefer to call limitation, because there is no way in hell disability can achieve all that she does especially for the so called abled.

She motivates, advises and inspires me and I want to thank her for taking the time to see me past my own limitation and loving me just as I am. Thank you my friend and mentor Dawn Pilatowicz.

Teen Sex: Are we raising a sex crazed generation?

H:        Sies! How can you eat with your hands after that…?

N.        That’s disgusting really!

From tapping away on my laptop, I caught on this little conversation from the girls. H has just turned 15 and N is 14 both being my niece and daughter respectively.  Not wanting to miss out on this conversation, I then asked, “What was is so disgusting?  

“Masturbation” they chorused, making me raise my eyebrows a little, thinking, wow!  Is this really high school playground talk?  Not wanting to be cut out from future discussions, I decided not to be condemning but subtly ask questions so that I can get the full story,

I then said “But your hands get to touch other disgusting stuff one way or the other”

“Oh Ma se Ngah” as they affectionately call me, “that is really disgusting now” rolling their eyes at me.

“I am just saying” I said defensively and l laughed it off returning to my laptop but still having all sorts of questions running through my head, trying to find something useful to advise.   I also wasn’t sure what to say exactly as it seems like they actually know more about sex than I do.

As if reading my mind and to calm me down, I think my eyes where popping, they told me that in their clique they had vowed not to masturbate because it just feels dirty.  H seems to be one who is driving this crusade.   N doesn’t seem to be bothered much about this, scary!!!

N then went on to tell me because they had made that decision, they were considered uncool and that It was hard for them to keep to their morals at the expense of being labelled uncool.  Thankfully N will stand for what she believes and is not easily moved by what other people think or say about her. 

Going back to the playground, I asked if this is what they talk about in school, what about Literature, Maths or History?  Again the eyes roll and they burst into giggles.  Sex is talked about everywhere, the smartphone being the biggest culprit because you cannot only talk about it but also visualize it, on the bus, in class, on the field, anyway.  They proceed to tell me that talking was just the tip of an iceberg. 

Actually sex happens at school they said as if  they were talking about a soccer match. In their school, there is a place at their school called top field.  Because their school is built on a steep incline, the teachers hardly go there, so it has become a sex hotspot for the high school students.  Even on the field one might see a boy fingering a girl or vice versa in plain sight.    Nobody dares tell on for fear of bullying.   Another place is the toilets that are not frequently used, the other students will keep watch at the door and block other users from entering while the couple (s) gets busy.  No wonder teenage pregnancy is high, I think to myself as I am listening.  What about the risk of HIV/AIDS infection?  I subconsciously begin to shake my head, not only am shocked but heartbroken at the moral degradation.

This is chilling to the bone as most of these children don’t realize how hard their parents are struggling to get them to school.   Most of the mothers are domestic workers, who earn just over the minimum wage and heavily in debt from chain stores and loan sharks.  They literally live from one loan to another.   Don’t this children feel for their mothers who usually are the main breadwinners?   Do the parents have an idea that their children are going to school to have sex?  I am almost in tears thinking of deadbeat mothers I see on the businesses, who are too happy singing and praying, excited to be going to work to provide for their families.

The girls tell me that Friday is the best day for most of the children.  They run to catch the earliest bus at 13:30 so that they can rush home to rest.  For sure, I agree that after a harrowing week of early rising to catch a bus at 05:30 they need to rest.  The girls burst into laughter, shaking their heads at my ignorance.  Then the girls then drop a bombshell, eyes still rolling as if to tell me I am so clueless.  The children run home to rest so that they can be fresh and ready for the street bash in the evening which can last through to the next morning.

“What is a street bash” I ask, getting ready for another shocking revelation and it does rise to the occasion.   A street bash is when these schoolchildren go to shebeen (an illicit drinking place) to hang out on weekends.   Depending on the popularity and vibe it can draw all sorts of people from all works of life.   The schoolgirls follow the more affluent shebeens, so that they can get a chance to score rich guys with fancy cars.  

While the bash is going on, any guy can say to a girl   “Please can you come with me to fetch my jacket from wherever?”.  This is the invitation for a quickie behind a car or wall or wherever they decide to do it.   So for as long as that girl is there she can get as many invitations and chose how many she takes till morning.  Swingers at 14 or 15 with some even as young as 12.  What is the world coming too?

“What do their parents say?” now I am in complete shock, I have put everything aside to pay full attention  and try to understand.  Some parents give their children a hiding, other parents don’t care enough to say anything.  Maybe they have given up on their own kids. 

What has happened to us, have we lost it somewhere, and if so where did we miss it?  Are we indeed raising a sex crazed generation?  By now I am gob smacked and can only thank God that my girls are still maintaining their innocence when they are bombarded by sex in various forms and degrees and yet maintain their sanity and morality.  


– See more at: http://www.bloggymoms.com/profiles/blogs/teen-sex-are-we-raising-a-sex-crazed-generation#.U7F0uvmSwqE