Upon my return from graduate school I was very keen to reconnect with the schools that I had worked with before just to touch base and chart ways for our joined future work. In casual chat, school officials would ask me about my time away and I (in return) would ask about major school changes/developments in my absence. At every school, without fail, they would mention – we bought a bus – excitedly. I heard it so often that I began to wonder if there was something about this bus issue that I was missing. Even conversations with parents and students yielded the same excited sentiments. The more I asked and read around the more I found that there was indeed a growing trend at that time [August 2014] for schools to invest in ‘state-of-the-art’ buses. A newspaper article reported how one school in Chivi district bought a bus worth US$110 000 and this was hailed as an empowerment to the school.
Most of us (women) have umbilical-like bond with our hair. Our hair is a physical manifestation of the internal conversations we have with ourselves. Many times the state of our hair – whether purchased or home grown – also serves as a barometer of our internal disposition. Note the statement ‘bad hair day’. For the uninitiated a bad hair day is just one of those days that try as you may your hair never sits quite right even in the face of a dozen hair products (both imported and concocted by your local Rastafarian). Needless to say hair is important to us women.
If you grew up in a home like mine, in a country like the one on my passport then you will know of the mystical, mythical, eternally strong creature that I am about to share with you. She is one of those creatures that if Warner Brothers or Disney were to hear about they scramble to put her in one of their movies. She can be found in history, in religion (for even Jesus met her at well in some place) and is still alive to this day. She goes by so many different names and auspices, so for political correctness I will call her Mamvura – the water goddess. An emblem of rural livelihood, her skills are foundational in the rites of passage into womanhood. Although long revered in our communities today I put my neck out and say death to her! Continue reading “A time for the water goddess to die!”
During the wind-down of a friend’s party this weekend I was introduced to Zimbabwean contemporary sensual dance star Bev Sibanda. While I had heard of her before I had never seen any of her routines. I must say I was blown away to say the least but the conversation that ensued was more stimulating than the video itself.
Those closest to me will concur that I have a memory span of a five year old. My mind often works live a dysfunctional sieve that lets out the good with the bad leaving me with gaping holes were my memory should be. That said though, I have come to know that if an event of historical occurrence is retained in my head it is due to its magnitude or enormity that the sieve just can’t help itself but retain. One of such occurrences is the interview that Nkosazana Dlamini-Zuma gave on Morning Live days before leaving for for her new post as the African union commission chair. Continue reading “6 Weeks and counting!”
One of my daily indulgences is to go through the news every evening before I sleep. I like the sense of ease that I have at the end of it all (work, assignments, meetings, engagements, phone calls) to take some time for myself and delve into the day’s news scourging for any delectable news that I had missed in my morning media rummage. Today my indulgence was disrupted by a piece that evoked such emotions in me that I have come back to my blog which I had sworn off indefinitely. Continue reading “Depictions of women in media”
Saartjie (pronounced Sahr ‘kie) Baartman (1790?-1815) was an African slave taken from the Cape colony to London in 1810 under false pretenses. Her steatopygia (enlarged buttocks), small facial features and elongated labia were intriguing to westerners not familiar with her type of body. Continue reading “AFRICAN FEMINISM: AN ODE TO SAARTJIE BARTMAN”
“I did not go home to vote today. I already knew my ‘candidate’ was not on the ballot paper. All of the ballot papers, Presidential, parliamentary, local government. She was not there.” Everjoice – Zimbabwean Blogger
In the July 2013 election aftermath feminists around the country woke up from the post-election depression to some disturbing news. Following the re-election of President Robert Mugabe, a new cabinet had been drafted….as expected. Continue reading “No One Can Represent Me”