Betrayal-A short short story

 

In the heart of Pilgrim’s Rest, where love stories unfolded like petals in a blooming garden, lived Sarah and Thabo—a couple whose romance was the envy of the town. Their laughter echoed through their cozy home, and the promise of forever seemed etched in every glance they exchanged.

 

Before their wedding, Sarah received a piece of advice from a wise friend: "Don't tell him everything about you, especially your weaknesses. One day he will use it against you." Sarah, wrapped in the warmth of love, brushed off the cautionary words, confident that the bond she shared with Thabo was unbreakable.

 

The years danced by, painting the canvas of their life with joy and shared dreams. However, destiny had a twist in store. This year, a tempest brewed in the sanctuary of their love. Sarah, faced with her most vulnerable moment, confided in Thabo, trusting that their love could weather any storm.

 

But, in an unimaginable turn of events, the storm within Thabo' heart led him to wield Sarah's deepest secret as a weapon during a heated argument. The betrayal cut through the fabric of their connection, leaving Sarah in disbelief and anguish. Her own husband, her confidant, had turned her most private pain into a blade to wound her.

 

Pilgrim’s Rest, once enchanted by the love story of Sarah and Thabo, now held its breath as the echoes of betrayal reverberated through their home. The warning words that Sarah had dismissed now haunted her, reminding her that trust, once shattered, cast a long and haunting shadow.

 

In the aftermath, Sarah faced a crossroads. The charming town, once a backdrop for their tranquil love story, now witnessed the unravelling of the tapestry they had woven together. Would they find the strength to rebuild what was broken, or would Sarah embark on a journey to rediscover herself, leaving behind the echoes of a love that had soured?

 

As the sun dipped below the hills of Pilgrim’s Rest, casting a golden glow on its cobblestone streets, Sarah stood at the crossroads, grappling with the weight of betrayal and the uncertain path that lay ahead. The town, with its odd charm, held secrets of love and loss, reminding its residents that even the most enchanting stories could take unexpected turns.

The Other Elephant in the room

Bismillah

O you who believe! Eat of the good things that We have provided for you and be grateful to Allah, if it is Him that you worship (Qur’an ch2:v172)

The one thing that you must know about my beloved husband is that he is brutally honest. He tries to be diplomatic but it fails him, he has got no sweet way of telling the truth. If you take your shoes off and your feet smell, he will let you know, while some of us will suffer in silence. Sometimes it hurts but when you sit alone and reflect on what he has said, you will find nothing but the truth staring at you, and that dear reader is something that many of us do not like hearing. One of the many truths that he tells is about the size of my waist and other people’s waists. Yes! The other elephant in the room, Weight! Body Mass! The way that Fat decides to settle in the body.

On my first birthday with my husband, he bought me a skipping rope, and as all women would react, I was upset but I tried not to show it, but in the end I decided to let him know that I was upset by this birthday gift and made him know that I did not think that this was an appropriate birthday gift. He explained that health is one of the most important things in his life and it is something that he wishes that we would always be conscious of in our marriage, and he thought that since birthdays mark age, growth, reflection and resolutions, it would be great to give me something that symbolizes fitness and I could utilize it to keep a healthy body. I understood him, really I truly got him, he can be deep like that but I was still upset. Later on during the year, one of the secretaries in the company he was working for had her fortieth birthday, so in order to stay safe he decided to take a female colleague with him to go shopping for a non-offensive, constitutionally correct,  appropriate gift. So he settled on a scale, yes, a bathroom scale, the other truth-teller that we try to avoid. I see you raising your eyebrows, shaking your head and putting up the red flags and thinking…”What was he thinking?” Well, this is what he was thinking. The scale did not mean just keeping track of body mass, but it also symbolized keeping her life in check.  He explained how he thought the scale and what it represents would remind her that she is now forty and has to constantly keep checking and weighing her life in order to live a healthy wholesome life. However, the first thought that came to mind when the secretary open her gift was “Mr Dolamo, so you think that I am fat?” typical female response. He explained to me how this gift became a terrible offensive incongruous gift.

Ladies let us women up! We need to be told when we are crossing the limit. We need to stop biting people’s heads off and face the truth. We want people to feel sorry for us when the doctor tells us that we have diabetes, hypertension, liver failure etc. but we do not feel sorry for ourselves when we eat that extra piece of cake and find all the excuses in the world not to exercise.  

Eight years later as I reflect, I have come to realize how important and appropriate a gift that skipping rope was. Out of all the gifts such as a radio, a phone, a watch, rings, the skipping rope, as simple as it is beats all of them. It represents life, vitality, health and love. . A skipping rope can help baby fat disappear after giving birth to a baby, a skipping rope can replace a 30 minute workout into a ten minutes skip. Thinking of the tier around my waist and the calories that have shrunk my clothes,This man loves me enough that he wants to see me live a long healthy quality life. I face the truth and I also pray that by now the secretary has also realized how precious and appropriate of a gift that scale was.  

So ladies before we get offended when someone who loves us comments on our extra kilos, let us remember that they may just be trying to prevent us from becoming the other elephant in the room.

What is left for me now is to face the bigger truth,  that I have to humble myself and apologize to Mr Dolamo.

Peace

Leto - part 5

By the time the second course meal reached our table, I had already heard about Leto’s entire family tree, his school antics, the teachers that hated him and the girls that he used to drive crazy but he quickly changed the focus from that topic. I used that as my cue to start searching him for answers.  “Leto!” I called out to him. “Why am I really here?” I asked. “Well to eat.” he said. “I could be eating at Res, why did you ask me out to eat with you?” I further asked. “Well we’ve known each other for a while, so I thought why not go out to eat like normal friends.” He responded. ‘Friends!?’ I asked myself. Did he dine at romantic Italian restaurants with all his ‘friends’? I breathed in deeply and let out an abysmal sigh. “Leto, I do not think that you and I are just friends”. He put his fork down and gave me a surprised look. “What do you mean we are not just friends?” he asked. I felt an invisible rope sit around my neck but I continued. “Judging by your behavior around me, I cannot say that we are just friends. You text and call me in the middle of the night, you ask me profoundly personal questions, you talk and smile at me in a manner that you do not with anyone else, just look around Leto? We are in a romantic set-up, I wouldn’t do this for friends!” I felt the invisible rope tightening around my neck and I could hardly swallow my own spittle, but I continued. “Leto, all these months that all of this has been happening I have been busy developing feelings for you that are beyond friendship, and I would genuinely like to know if I am wasting my time or is there something genuinely developing between us”. He let out a nervous cackle and looked at me then started eating again. This time he was taking smaller portions into his mouth and chewing slowly as if he was buying some time. I was becoming impatient but my inner conversations kept me calm, so I continued eating at his pace, with each bite I was internally saying to him ‘I am not going anywhere until we finish this conversation.’ We both finally finished eating. “Should we order dessert?” he asked. “Only if you are ready to be completely honest with me,” I replied. He let out a huge sigh and asked, “If I choose to be truthful do you promise to understand?” I desperately wanted to know the truth therefore I said “Yes” even though I was uncertain that I would actually understand. We ordered our dessert and after the waiter had left Leto pulled his chair towards my right side. He now looked very serious and I began to worry.

To be continued…

Leto -Part 6

“I have a girlfriend.” That rope finally tightened around my neck and I could not say a word. He continued, “We have been together since high school, I was not looking outside for anything, but when I met you I felt so drawn towards you.” I wanted to get up and leave, but my body was somehow stuck to the chair. I was forced to continue listening to him. “I tried to talk myself out of feeling this way about you, and I tried to ignore you, those are the days when you thought I was being cold, believe me I was not, I was just trying not to act upon this attraction that I feel towards you.” “I am stuck between reviving a relationship that is dying or going for a new relationship, I did not mean to seem like I was playing around, I was trying to avoid any attachments, but this is what I am honestly going through.” He dipped his head and then looked at me. “I was trying to get to know you so I could make a definite decision.” The more he talked the more I started feeling a strange pain in my chest. I was shocked and angry but I had promised to understand, however did that mean that I shouldn’t be angry? I felt my eyes fill up with salty water, my mind was blank, and my heart suddenly felt too heavy for my own chest and breathing felt like a great task. The waiter broke the tension when he brought our dessert, so I quickly excused myself and rushed to the restroom. As soon as I opened the restroom’s door, tears flooded my eyes. They say that the truth shall set you free, but this truth did not set me free. I expected a simple “Yes I dig you” or a “No, I have no such feelings for you”. I guess this is what people mean when they say ‘It is complicated’. After a good ten minutes of crying I washed my face, reached into my bag for my face cream, opened the lid and slowly applied it, I decided not to re-apply my make-up and just put on some lip-balm. When I was done, I slowly approached our table and sat down. “are you ok?” Leto asked. “May we please eat and enjoy our dessert?” I requested. He slowly nodded his head while giving me a bothered look. I think he was afraid to say anything else.

Leto had ordered a strawberry cheese cake while I had ordered a chocolate mousse. It was the best dessert that I had ever tasted, in spite of what had just happened twenty minutes ago, the dessert brought an incredible comfort to my heart while my breathing reached its Zen moment.  I did not know how Leto was feeling at that very moment, but somehow I did not care to know. We silently and slowly had our dessert while avoiding any eye contact. When we were done eating he asked me if I had anything to say, I looked at him in the eye and calmly said “No.” “May we please leave?” I requested. “Uhm…” Leto tried to say something but I quickly cut him off and asked in a commanding tone, “May we please just no longer talk?” he nodded his head in a surrendering body tone. He signaled our waiter to bring the bill and shortly thereafter we were in the car and on our way back to Res. The trip back was short and quiet, we did not bother putting the Radio on. When we reached the Res parking area, I looked at Leto and smiled at him adoringly and said “Thank you for telling me the truth and I understand, see you around. Bye Leto.”

The End.

Leto-Part 4

 The decor was made of bravura shades of red, the detailing was very romantic. Everyone in the restaurant seemed to be in some kind of intense conversations. The waiter walked towards us and seemed pretty familiar with Leto. He warmly greeted us and let us to our table. We were sitting not far from the kitchen and I could smell the exquisite food that was being prepared. The waiter left us with the menu and asked us for anything to drink, I requested for bottled water and Leto requested for a glass of white wine. As we waited for our drinks, we sat quietly looking at each other as if we were carefully planning our sentences in our minds. We looked at each other intensely then Leto broke it with a giggle. “Come on my lady, why are you so serious?” Well I was trying to be serious because I wanted answers and wished he would stop calling me ‘my lady’ but I quickly smiled and said “I’m ok, just quit calling me you lady.” “Come on I’m just teasing you, should I tease you?”, that silly feeling of excitement and euphoria came back again, I thought to myself that this night will see me with many bruises if I have to keep on pinches myself back to my composure. The menu was long with a five course style menu, I asked Leto if we could just have three courses and end the night early, he agreed to it but I would not guarantee that he would stick to it.  I ordered what he recommended and when our first course came I thought I should slowly start the interrogation. It was a creamy Chicken and Mushroom soup, that made me feel so warm and comfortable inside, and he ordered some kind of a seafood soup for himself, and gave me a spoonful of some of his soup to taste. We laughed at the silliness of him feeding me. Before I could open my mouth to ask him my 21 questions, he started telling me about himself. He grew up in a small suburb, north of Johannesburg. He has two sister and lives with both his parents and a pet Macau called Rudy.  Rudy like a typical Macau was very talkative. His face really lit up when he was busy describing all the tricks Rudy had. He told me that he is Italian, but has never been to Italy. I found myself intrigued and was gradually losing my list of 21 questions. If this was a war, I was quickly losing my ground.

To be continued…  

Leto-Part 3

When I heard a hoot outside I knew that it was him, I slightly opened the blinds to make sure, and it was him. He was here! To pick ME up! I suddenly had a rush of excitement and I quickly gave him two points in my mental scoreboard. I grabbed my purse and a thought went through my mind “What if this date ends badly?” I quickly called a friend to let her know she should be on standby, just in case I needed a lift back home. The hooter went off again, I enjoyed keeping Leto waiting, I was a woman I a beautiful dress, trying to impress and intimidate all at the same time. I laughed at my madness, how I expected Leto to be straight with me when I was just as guilty as him of sending mixed messages. I locked my room and walked down the stairs. I stepped into his car and I was immediately welcomed by a fresh, smooth and sensual scent. It was either Paco Rabanne or the new Ferrari cologne. Leto’s cologne was absorbing, and I could not resist getting caught up in that moment. He smiled slightly and then greeted me as if he knew the feelings that were going through me. I wanted to apologize for keeping him waiting, but I decided not to. His eyes were glued on me for a while, and then he asked if I was ready to go, and I slowly responded positively. I tried to pinch myself out of the excitement and euphoria. “You look beautiful,” he said. “Thank you.” I tried to complement him on something, “you smell good,” I could not believe my mouth, it was not supposed to betray me like that. “thank you, my lady.” He smiled again and turned away to slide a CD into the CD player. Enrique Iglesius, one of my favorite artists. What was Leto trying to do?  Suddenly only good memories flooded my mind in full colour. I just lost the poker face I tried to pull in the music. We hardly spoke a word until the end of the CD, I quickly pressed the repeat button before any words could be exchanged. I felt disarmed and pathetic. We finally arrived at a beautiful Italian restaurant called Amor, just a glance from the outside displayed a lovely ambiance.

To be continued…

Leto Part 2

The clock cannot tick faster nor the sun set earlier. I am just sitting here in the study area, this is the depressing dark part of the library. I cannot believe this is still part of the library, it is corrupt with the smell of cigarette smoke, cheap cologne, mint sweets and sweat. I have actually never seen the Library Guard do his rounds this side. It is best I find my way home and prepare for the night ahead. The campus bus is right on time, and the friendly driver is back on duty. I hope he has completely healed from his kidney infection. I rushed to the bus stop, stepped onto the bus, swiped my tag and greeted the bus driver with a pleasant smile and asked him how he was doing, he was not completely healthy, but his leave days were exhausted and had to get back to work. I felt sorry for him but proud that he is doing his best for the well-being of his family, such men are becoming scarce these days.

The bus ride can be thirty to forty minutes long, depending on traffic. When I sat down I felt exhausted and drained. All day long I have been thinking about Leto, he has become an absolute obsession, so I took this time to rest my mind and take a nap. I have to end this madness tonight before I have a meltdown, my head already feels heavy. The bus ride felt too short compared to other days and as soon as it stopped I was out the door. I took a brisk walk to the student residence, I thought I should burn some calories ahead of tonight’s dinner.

I rushed to the shower room as soon as I got to my room, I had already picked out a lovely blue cocktail dress the previous day, but I did not want to be too dressed up, so I toned it down with black pumps. I continued to visualize the impending date as I got ready. My questions were ready. I will ask him about our relationship, if there is any. I will ask him about our phone calls and text messages. He once said we are bonding, what bond is it?

Oh No! What was I doing? What have I been thinking?  Look at the time! There is no no turning back, Leto will be here soon.

To be continued…

Leto Part1

I knew that this would be one of the most stupid decisions that I have
taken in my life but I had to do this for myself.I had to invite Leto for a night out. If it is a
mistake, it would be my mistake, regardless of what all that my friends
tell me.  I was tired of all the awkward moments when Leto and I met
in corridors, tired of the uncertain text messages that he and I
exchanged.  I always try to give people a chance, “benefit of the
doubt” as they say, but with Leto things were different, giving him a
chance made the chills run down my back, because nothing proves that he
might be genuine in all that he does, not even his apologies and friendly
greetings, everything that has happened between us spells “STAY AWAY”
but I cannot.
I spent most of today in the library, not reading or studying but
contemplating about tonight.  Thinking how things will turn out,
will I be able to get a final and straight answer from Leto? Would he
avoid looking at me in the eye? Would he lie and turn everything that
has happened into paranoia thoughts from my head and make me feel
dim-witted and immature about so many things that I am not to blame
for.
Tonight I am going to take my power back, God! I pray that I will be
able to sift out every lie until the truth stands out naked. I have to set the
record straight, holding nothing back! Every cliché you can think of,
I am going to be it. However, at the back of my mind memories flash by
and I remember how weak I can be around Leto, how he can make my
blood rush to my brain so fast that I cannot tell a difference between
a lie and the truth.Oh my…I am smiling and feeling all fuzzy again. STOP! I have to compose myself and think of a tactful way of handling Leto, or else I will be stuck in this foolishness and end up ruined.  

To be continued…

Undressing a Man

A man takes clothes off a woman but a woman can really undress a man

As she undressed him,
She unfastened his ruttedly tied layer of ego and found his kindness.
Under that mushy kind layer lay his arrogance.
With just her fingertips she meticulously removed it and found his modesty.
Beneath his modesty sits dark uncompromising layers 

of harshness, stubbornness and callousness, 

cruelty, malice and sourness,

hatred, revenge, prejudice and more.

Roughly and softly,

Swiftly and slowly,
Layer upon layer,
Texture upon texture,
She undressed that man.

Under the last layer she found nothing but his vulnerability
which she intensely made love to.

Solace

He is peacefully sleeping
Perhaps even snoring
Oblivious to the tears trickling down to your pillow.

He did not even give you a goodnight kiss,
Angry over a silly incident.
Your apology meant nothing 

because all he wants is to crush your spirit.

With the rain as his lullaby,
he turns from right to left with sweet dreams.
But your tears are in sync with the rain,
The more it pours the more you cry.
You try to hush your sobs,
But his words thunder in your thoughts.
In the silence of your bedroom,
The pain is a loud thud in your heart.

He just said he loves you this morning,
So why fuss over weightless words.

You wipe your tears,
Take a deep breathe...
Get closer to him,
And just like a child you seek solace from the one who makes you cry.

#SimplySakinaPoetry

The Other Room

You think you are the one
Because she said yes
And you put a ring on her finger.
She created another room in her heart
just to accommodate you
And with time your room grew bigger
But it never destroyed the other room
And now and again
The other room gets lit
Its light may be dim
But sometimes it is her haven
It may be small
but sometimes it is all the space she needs
It may be empty
But sometimes it puts a smile on her face 

She will never tell you about this room
But Your insecurities
Refer her to this little room
Your jealousy expands it
Your betrayals light it up
Your lies furnish it

Be careful...
Your room is shrinking
Its bright lights are dimming
And everything in it,  is burning 

down to ashes...

Who are the flag-bearers of morality?

A few weeks ago a man from Limpopo introduced the Virginity Awards. These awards are dedicated to young girls or women who keep their virginity till marriage. A radio journalist was asking why is it that when it comes to morality, women and girls are mostly advices to keep their virginity. What about men and boys? Is it not a sexist idea that one sex should be preached to more than the other?

I say, to uphold morality is the duty of every male and female, however the greater advice is given to women and young girls as they are more vulnerable. In an immoral society women greatly suffer the consequences much more than their male counterparts. Women and girls easily fall prey to emotional and physical abuse and they are left to deal with unwanted pregnancies, dropping out of school due to the strains of pregnancy, and are left with the responsibility of taking care of babies. We have “16 Days of activism against women and children abuse”, not because men are not being abused but because women and children are more exposed to violence and mistreatment.

If men and boys know that sex is not easily available to them but earned through a moral commitment, it will encourage them to step up to be better, reliable and responsible men. Men and boys too need that emphasized teaching on discipline and accountability.

We have sayings such as “to teach a woman is to teach a nation” because of the realisation of the revered and important state of women, and the role that they can play in order to raise or sink the society.  There has to be someone that sets precedence, women are more than capable of doing that for their communities if they so wish. Women being the first to come into contact with human life, the first teachers through motherhood, are in a better position to teach their sons to be reputable and liable from an early age. The often used negligent words, “a boy is a boy” or "a man is a man" to express that men or boys should be left to their bad behaviour are not working positively towards building a constructive, responsible and moral society, and sadly these words are mostly uttered by women.

To uphold morality is the duty of every male and female, nevertheless it is more of an honour than a burden to give the flag of morality to women. In conclusion Imam Ali bin Abu Talib (as) says “woman is a delicate creature with strong emotions, who has been created by the Almighty God to shoulder responsibility for educating society and moving toward perfection. God created woman as a symbol of His own beauty and to give solace to her partner and her family.”

May God guide and help us towards establishing a moral society.

Peace

Marriage- 5 years, 10 months and reflecting

Bismillah

They say “Nyala o …”, “Dikuku di mo nate, le nyalo le boima” and they say “When are you going to get married, so you can stop being happy”, “Marriage comes with three rings: engagement ring, wedding ring and the suffering” and they have more to say “…”.

But Allah , The All Mighty, The All Merciful, The All Knowing, The All Wise says  “And among His signs is this, that He created for you mates from among yourselves, that ye may dwell in tranquility with them, and He has put Love and mercy between your (hearts), verily in that are signs for those who reflect.”

(Holy Quran: Rum: v21)

Marriage is one of Allah’s greatest signs on earth that transcends all the way to the heavens. Marriage was the first relationship established on earth between two humans, Adam and Hawwa (Eve), it is the first university for humans, where they learn how to interact with each other spiritually and emotionally. Marriage is the best school to teach humility, honesty, truthfulness, faith and other human values. A healthy marriage will produce children and adults that will contribute positively towards the society, as children learn most of their behavior from parents. A successful marriage will produce a strong and a well-developed society, therefore it is a fundamental block in building a prosperous and peaceful community.

As the verse mentions, marriage is a place to dwell in tranquility. Tranquility is the highest form of peace that everyone would love to experience over and over again, however many couples find this to be an unlikely idea. The verse continues by mentioning Love and Mercy and these are the two units that will lead the marriage to Tranquility.

The Arabic word used in the verse is “Mawwadah” which is translated as love, but Mawwadah is actually a special and divine form of love, it is beyond simple adoration and friendship.  It is the love that Allah instils in a marriage in order to handle conflicts that arise in a marriage. This love enables the couple to compromise, reach agreements and look for solutions and Mercy leaves room for apologies, forgiveness and acceptance of dissimilar views and opinions. Does this then mean that we have to sit and do nothing? Of course not, anything good worth having is a result of hard work. Hard work makes you stronger, wiser and happier.

Marriage is fully of challenges that are worth overcoming as long as we continue to work at it. There more we overcome those challenges, there more we will see Tranquility, Love and Mercy in our marriages.

May Allah keep us God-fearing spouses and bless our marriages. Ameen.

Live Simple, Give Much_Gogo Rashieda Kotobe

Bismillah

Tonight (14 August 2013) with sadness and with heavy hearts we bid farewell and laid to rest one of the mothers and grandmothers of the present Ummah (community) of Islam.  I cannot account for the youthful years of our beloved Gogo but I can account for the impact she had on my youth. Meeting her at a young age before my teens was joy, as my own Gogo had just passed away. She was selling snacks and sweets and she gave me some for free.  A sweet Gogo full of smiles and generosity. A busy Gogo who still cooked with the old coal stove, chopped her own wood with an axe and still managed to make tea for you no matter your age. I am talking about a Lady who managed to complete the Hajj (Holy Pilgimage to Mecca)on her own feet. This is a Lady whom her much younger Hajj companions drew strength from and forged on because of her zeal to carefully and devotedly complete this Holy Pilgrimage.  

Live simple, give more are the first words that come to mind when I think of our beloved Gogo Rashieda. She looked after her children and grandchildren with dedication, and extended her complete love to the community.  Living  a simple lifestyle, she managed to welcome my family in her home so many times that it became our meeting point when we are around that area. If I am waiting for my parents I would go to her house and they would do the same if they are waiting for anybody else. Tea, biscuits, sweets and sandwiches are what she would prepare, and when I complain that I can prepare this myself, she would tell me that I am her guest and i should sit down.

I will never forget the day that I had to go for a job interview and she decided to babysit for me, I will not forget her kindness in my time of need and I hope and pray that I am always inspired to do the same for others.

I will miss her saying “Susho?” (really?) when she was surprised at what you were telling her. 

I thank Allah for all the kindness she had in her and May He make her journey in the next world a blessed and easy one. We will miss you dearly Gogo Rashieda.

Bad boys are just that, BAD!

Bad boys are just that, BAD!

Bismillah


Your Mama warns you about bad boys because she’s afraid you will lead a more exciting life than hers; how boring is your good father? Working all day and coming home to read the newspaper, make silly jokes and call you mother the Lady of the house! No ways! That is not your ideal man. Bad boys are exciting, adventurous, fun and full of trills. Bad boys steal kisses, own babes and ask for no permission to touch you, how exciting! Bad boys burp out loud and know how to curse, how flattering! Bad boys have an amatory way of sitting as if their spine is rubbery, they walk like they have been shot nine times and lean again buildings to prevent them from falling, how charming! They drive racy cars, and only choose the best babes to ride in them; they smoke the best cigarettes and nip on the coolest drinks, how sensual! Nevermind your heart, mind and soul! Bad boys are the ultimate fulfillment of your desires!  Let me introduce you to a different male specie, the Good Guys. They say “please” &” thank you”, greet you respectfully with a smile, and call you a lady. They talk gently and worship the ground that you walk on, and not forgetting to give way for you to pass. They take their plates to the sink after eating and burp in private. Their mothers mean the world to them and are not embarrassed to show it. They sit up straight and have a humble walk. But you… have been laughing horribly in their faces and calling them names such as ‘weirdoes’ and ‘mama’s boys’. You have been busy playing pranks on them and break their delicate hearts. You have been mocking their clean and neat clothing, and rolling your eyes when they try to talk to you. So here you are babe! Standing weak and dry like an Autumn leave, broken in may ways and left at the petrol station by that bad boy, and the stillness in you reminds you of that Good Guy who called you a lady and you ignored him. Here is your heart now, whispering a prayer.

Bags

This article was inspired by a baggage article written by a dear sister: Luyanda Sibisi This (these) luggage that we carry with us prevent us from being whole and sometimes they even exhaust us. Baggage weighs us down, and wears us out so much that we cannot completely give ourselves to the ones we love. Fear of being hurt again is one of women's favourite bags. It makes us hold back so much when we are supposed to be giving, and makes us incomplete beings thereby creating a mental barrier or even a spiritual wall between us and ultimate happiness and prevents us from reaching Allah Himself. Have you ever noticed that positive thoughts are so weightless? Hope, love and peace are so valuable but light on the heart. They do not weigh you down or wear you out. Unfortunately we have because fairly comfortable with carrying these bags that we hardly see the direct harm on ourselves. Bags come in all sort of sizes and styles. Let’s talk about physical bags and how our packing reflects on our personal & physical lives to spiritual bags. One of the huge items that we carry in our spiritual bags is fear. What type of a packer are you? There are many types of packers out there. There is the just in case packer (more fearful than cautious packer). This type of packer is literally a step away from traveling with her entire house, everything is essential! She is fearful and does not feel comfortable without her huge bag i.e. the house. It is highly possible for her bring her own pots to the trip, and if she is your visitor by the time you get to her room to offer her some tea, she has already taken out her own kettle and cup. Precaution is important only when done in moderation. The good thing about the fearful packer is that her clothes are neatly packed and categorised. Everything is labelled and no matter how trivial, it has a purpose just in case she might needs it. She similarly does not open her heart easily, just in case you hurt her. This type of baggage is very heavy as it comes with a tight lock with numerous codes by the time you open the first lock you find other lock connected to other baggages, what am i saying. sister loosen up a bit, the more baggage you have the more difficult it is for another person to help you unpack, yes I know you have a name for all your stories but you do not need to carry them everywhere you go. Life sometimes offers us many days on the beach, where you just need to bring your water bottle to enjoy, & in your screen a sunscreen as well will be good, just in case you run into pure thirsty joy that will need your help. To be continued…

Bags Please! We all have baggage but at some point you have to start unpacking. By Luyanda Sibisi

Bismillah this article was written by my friend and sister Luyanda Sibisi. She is a published Writer, Her article inspired me write the Bags article of my own. Whether it’s a new marriage, new career or being a new mom, baggage is the one bag you want to pack lightly on. I’ve always loved the song Bag Lady by Erykah Badu, I always thought I was the beat but the older I got the more I realized that there was more. ‘I guess nobody ever told you, all you must hold on to is you.’ This is my favourite part of the song. She reassures you that whichever situation you come out of all you need to have held onto is yourself. Your identity. Your faith. Your spirit. Baggage is when you take all the stuff from a bad experience usually the negative stuff and you carry it around with you. What is unclear to me is why we feel we need to own this stuff, make it our own. We expect our current situation and all those involved to understand that you’ve arrived with an excessive amount of luggage they whether or not they have space for it. We’ve all seen how kids love to show off their scars to their friends after a nasty fall. Once the scar has healed they still try to endlessly search for this scar almost to show off to their friends that they survived a dreadful fall in the park. We do exactly the same thing with our baggage, even though the contents of the bags are things we packed twenty years ago we insist on carrying it along with us to show people what we’ve been through and how far we’ve come. Why can’t we take our bags, acknowledge what we’ve been through but let them go when time says its ok to let go. There’s a prayer I love to read out whenever I feel my baggage overflowing it’s the well known serenity prayer; ‘Lord give me the strength to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can and the wisdom to know the difference.’ There are scars in my bag I will always keep with me like scars from childbirth. The scars from the incision the doctor made bringing my child into the world are scars I wear with pride, I know that this is something I should carry and even look at as a beautiful reminder of that day. There are the scars I know I should not be packing in my bag, things that prevent me from building meaningful relationships with people and growing as a human being. So let’s take stock, start unpacking our bags and really look into the things we would much rather do without. Trust me you’ll feel so much lighter! “I guess nobody ever told you, all you must hold onto is you”

The games that people play Part 1 The Discreet Show-Offer

Bismillah
The more I interact with human beings is the more I think of my favourite IT lecturer Mr Joshua Phumlani Mkhize, Mr van Aardt please do not get offended. Other than being an absolute Programming Genius & lecturer, he was a Life Coach. Often when I was in high school I used to fantasise about being an adult. Why? Because these fantasies were mostly fuelled by my garbled insights of what adulthood really meant. Peer pressure, bullying, self-loathing, jealousy, arrogance and the rest, I thought were all illnesses that haunted the young and the restless aka teenagers. I thought that when we become adults we finally come to ourselves and become calm being whose spirits constantly float in a bubble of peace. I was aware that there were a few adults who suffered from these illnesses from time to time, but my mother chose not to expose me to such people; moreover she did not allow me much TV time, so I could not witness such behaviours in adults even on Soapies.
Mr Mkhize began by educating us about the “Discreet Show-Offer”. The Discreet Show-Offer begins by creating or sharing with fellow friends or other audience a crisis, such as crying profusely to catch the attention of friends or the audience, obviously the next would be to ask her “What is wrong?” try and catch it in the response if you can. Here goes… she responds “you know guys, I am so angry with my mother! She took my credit card and just used it everywhere as she wished; I just got my credit card, you know the bank doesn’t give a credit card to just anyone.” Did you catch it? The crisis was created to inform the audience about the credit card. Let’s take another incident and see if you will be able to identify the “Discreet Show-Offer” amongst your circle. “Guys I am not sure if you can help me, I need your advice. I borrowed a colleague my iPad for just a week that I was on leave as his laptop is gone for fixing; now he keeps on saying he is still busy with my iPad. I only borrowed him my iPad because he had an emergency” did you get it?
The discreet show offers will often have sickness such as gout so that you know they have plenty of money, respiratory problems because of the expensive perfume they wear, depression because of a colleague who can’t handle their intelligence, a rash because they are only supposed to wear pure cotton. The list is endless.
Now as an adult I have realised that these illnesses if not curbed at an earlier stage take another turn and become detrimental, not just to oneself but to the society as a whole. May the Almighty continue to bless Mr Mkhize for his Programming lectures and Life lessons and May the Almighty help us overcome these illnesses to that we can be better humans towards one another.

I’m not pregnant; I’m just renting my belly for a while.

Bismillah
With the beautiful blessing of pregnancy comes a world full of people who have suddenly become expert gynaecologists, GPs, baby’s-sex predictors, psychologists etc. They all want in on this fabulous period.
The Psychologists...
When you express your anger, frustrations or anything with passion, they are there to explain that you are not yourself; it is the pregnancy hormones that are causing you act like this. Then they advise everybody not to take you seriously because you are just acting out a page from your diary of a mad black pregnant woman. Ok? Can I also kill someone & blame it on the hormones?
The baby’s sex predictors
Oh you crave for sweet treats? You are having a girl. Yeah! It’s definitely a girl. Oh! Look at your stomach? It sits quite low, it’s a boy! What? you feel all big and ugly? I it’s definitely a girl, she is stealing all your beauty.
The Physicians
You are still exercising? Do not strain yourself too much. Just rest, let your husband cook. Don’t run. Don’t sit on the floor; sit on a high chair with cushions. Always keep warm.
The dieticians
Don’t drink soft drinks; your baby will have yellow jaundice. LOL
With the exception of my husband and mother, who just know me too well to fall for my tricks.
During this delicate time, I have been hiking, taking 5km walks, entertaining myself with optical illusions, travelling, baking, cooking, reading, and solving mathematical problems. As I lay all my cards out, I do realise there are women who have tough pregnancies. Alhmadulillah my pregnancy has been progressing well. I do not feel like killing my hubby for “making” me pregnant, nor storming out and shutting doors behind a hot argument. All i feel is calm fabulousity. I love the baby kicking, i love this perfectly round belly, it has brought so much of joy and radiance in my marriage. I am tempted though to tell a few people a thing or two, and i know i will get away with it.
So, all the experts out there, I enjoy playing the many roles expected from a pregnant woman, however I am sorry to disappoint you all. I am not craving for beetroot juice with a grass sandwich.
All I am is SimplySakina who is renting out her belly to another creature for a while.
Peace

Fantasies of an African slave

Bismillah
Can you imagine what the world would be like if a conquest; colonisation etc was determined by a soccer match? Right now South Africa would have Spanish invaders instead of the Dutch. We would inherit all that which came with the world cup; given that we are already slaves to other exotic cultures we would be proud Black Spanish speakers. Furthermore, Paul the Octopus would in future be one of the symbols of our ancestral animals, or perhaps calamari would be Spanish South Africa’s favoured delicacy. Our blood would be red because it is Spanish. And how I wonder what stories our Coloureds would tell.

The discovery of the Timbuktu scriptures has brought Africa a new light, not complete sunshine but some light, as it was known as the Dark Continent that lacked civilization until all types of white men arrived. Perhaps it is this misconception that Africa lacked civilisation that Africans themselves find it hard to establish their own identity; therefore they assume the identity of their conquerors. The Congolese people are ‘French’ and do not mention the South Africans who did not want their Dutch ‘Master’ only to settle for an English one, so that they could walk about the townships with a twang stuck high up in their nostrils to put their township schooling equals down.

And what about the Xenophobic attacks? Which part of South Africa isn’t part of Africa? The argument is that “I am killing my fellow brother because he came into my country, took my wife and job” ok? I am not inciting a racial civil war here but what about the one, who came into your country, took your live stock, took your land, raped your sister and turned you into a slave in its plantations for his good and is still giving you a shilling for your day’s hard work? Do you not see that you are just fighting your fellow brother over a shilling?

Perhaps it is such incidents that question the African civilisation. It is such incidents that have got this African slave fantasizing about Arabian nights under Palm trees, and Chinese Kimonos. It is this slave that is filled with fantasies of the famous Spanish & Indian Spices because the African soil is too stained with blood to grow any of its own.
Or else time has come to re-write history and for every African to start telling the remarkable and courageous stories of Africa.
Peace.

Just because African civilisation was not documented it does not prove that it didn’t exist. Time to search and re-write history!
Timbuktu here we come!!!