NB: I published this post previously by mistake but I’ve updated it now so that you have the correct version. The ending, in particular, has changed. So we went to Tanzania, as I mentioned in my previous post. And it … Continue reading
Category Archives: nonfiction
The Race Series (Sort Of): Where’s that?
Yesterday, I was talking with my Southern African family about a trip I’m taking to Tanzania. I’ve never been to Tanzania. But a friend wanted to celebrate her birthday there, so we’re going. By the time this article is published, we’d have gone and come back to Southern Africa.
My family was asking: where is Tanzania? What is it known for? Does it have beaches?
All the questions made me remember how it is assumed that an African knows about the whole of Africa, regardless of where exactly they’re from. It also reminded me of how I used to think that Europeans know about the whole of Europe, regardless of exactly where they’re from. I thought they’re always in and out of each other’s countries. I thought: why wouldn’t they be? Their countries seem so pretty and organised and the standard of living is high. They can easily save up and visit once a year. Or easily move to the next European country and stay there for some years. So I grew up thinking Europe was this melting pot where everyone knows of everyone else’s culture and knows at least 3 languages. I was later there, briefly, and was told by an European that’s not the case. Everyone keeps to their own country, language(s) and culture unless they are forced to go elsewhere or unless they belong to the younger generations which are more keen to travel.
We are all like this, I suppose. It’s definitely the case where I’m from. We travel a lot but not necessarily to other African countries. We seek career opportunities in the Western world and tend to move there. Or go to exotic places like Bali or Dubai on holiday for those who want to flex and can afford it. (I haven’t had the good fortune to go there yet, but if I had the money I would go to Vietnam.) But we don’t seem to know much about other African countries, especially those in East, West or North Africa. I suppose this is natural because everyone all over the world sticks to their own religion, family values and social norms, don’t they? Whatever we are raised with, that is truth to us. But I tend to find myself wondering: how different is it over there in East, West and North Africa? I finally have a chance to go somewhere so that’s exciting. I’d like to create more opportunities to go to those places and see for myself what it’s like.
Even though the entire family always knew there was a place called Tanzania, most of us hadn’t looked it up in detail and we didn’t know anyone who’s ever gone there. I’ve been instructed by my mother to come back with some Kente fabric because hers has grown old and is falling apart. My personal mission is to explore the food and the beach. (We come from a landlocked country -which is why everyone in the family is so keen on beaches.) I also wanted to make some friends there who I can continue talking with after the trip. I’m curious about the culture there and how everyday life is. It’s easier finding out if you know someone who lives there, versus relying solely on a 5-day trip.
I just thought I’d share a few realities of a somewhat sheltered, Southern African person. If you enjoy reading about those kinds of insights, let me know and I’ll write more about life in all parts of Africa as I find out more about places outside the south.
Random Thoughts: Pretending I Knew A Famous, Dead Stranger
I once watched a movie which depicted the life of a painter… The painter, described by the Internet as ‘morally skittish’, left his family behind for a carefree, Tahitian existence. If I remember correctly, the painter had a friend who … Continue reading
The Race Series: What Is The Opposite Of Generational Trauma?
There’s a conversation going around these days about the generational traumas we inherit from previous generations and pass on to our descendants. I’d say it’s an attempt to justify all the inexplicable patterns that crop up in families -regardless of … Continue reading
Random Thoughts: Writing and Censorship
I have a roundabout confession to make. I am one of those people who censors themselves quite a bit. Even though I’m aware that I’m an amateur writer, a hobbyist, I do feel a need to check myself in public. … Continue reading
Gratitude Journal: Welcome Back
Hello and welcome back. It’s so good to be talking to you again. I hope you are well and thriving despite the craziness in this world. It’s been a bit of a while. I’ve been toying with some topics, writing, then … Continue reading
There’s No Such Thing As Writer’s Block
I don’t believe in writer’s block. I used to. But not anymore. I thought I had it for about 6 years. I would sit down to write and… nothing. I would force something, then crumple it up into nothing. That … Continue reading
Gratitude Journal: Mother of the Nation
Usually when we talk about children -the conversations I’ve witnessed and experienced, anyway- we tend to focus on all we do for them. But I think what they do for us is a miracle as well. There are two particular … Continue reading
Thoughts Behind The Gratitude Journal: 2021
Gratitude Goal for 2021: To express gratitude for the ability to show love and integrity, in spite of what has happened in the past.
The resilience of a child is admirable in that it can endure large amounts of strain without the child holding back from showing love to whomever is around to receive it –and hopefully give it. Ideally, the child should not be going through anything too stressful but I have often observed that children bounce back quite quickly from tough times in the family and can more easily form healthy relationships afterwards than adults do. Of course, the issue will still affect the child –sometimes in ways that can manifest themselves in adulthood. But it is amazing that children have the capacity to welcome health after trauma.
Adults on the other hand… We need persuasion. Once something painful has happened in our adult lives, we curl up and die a little; we find it hard to welcome well-meaning strangers, or even to tell the difference between a stranger that has come to plunder and one that has come to help bring out our good side; we sometimes even dig in and vow never to try again, to never really live again, or to never to have a similar relationship again –allowing one person to ruin one area of our lives forever.
Yes, situations hurt. But once someone has meddled with our equilibrium or once we’ve destroyed ourselves, unfortunately, it becomes our responsibility to deal with the damage. It’s either you let the situation swallow the rest of your life whole or you learn the respective lessons and move on. Or do we secretly expect our lives to roll along in perfection? If you are alive to give yourself another chance at something you used to enjoy and value, why not do just that? We like to ponder the meaning of life. What if it is simply to live thoroughly? Whatever that looks like to each of us –simply and quietly or complex and loud. Every day. Without assigning impossible expectations to life, to each other. (Like 100% success rates in every aspect of life.) Without apology.
There’s also the issue of how adults tend to enjoy their own pain, with people competing to be the one with the heaviest problems in the room. We wear our challenges like badges of honour and hold on to them in the hope of being empathised with, or pitied, or being found to be relatable. We value our losses and weaknesses far more than all the people and the things that have stayed constant and faithful in our lives.
That said, sometimes it is a privilege to be able to get over things at all. Those of us who can do it take it for granted. But it really is because of chance that some are more susceptible to giving into the trauma of trauma than others. Just as some children can rise above challenging times easier and in more healthy ways than others, so it is with adults. It is not even about who is stronger but is mostly a game of chance.
I just think it’s important to leverage our luck, wherever we can find it, rather than repressing it in the name of relatability. Because there are people who need empathy (however much society is willing to give) more than others. I find solace in thinking there is someone who has been through a similar situation and actually rose above it to such an extent that they no longer feel it has a stronghold on them.. I think people think others care more about hearing an ‘I’ve been through it too’ than a ‘you could also look at it this way’. Or maybe they think the latter is patronising. But I really would rather have the latter (from a trustworthy source).
At the end of 2018, I met a woman who taught me the ‘you could also look at it this way’ mindset and my problems have shrunk ever since. Very slowly but surely. (She’s one of those women who makes you feel that there is a sisterhood after all in this world. She’s real and compassionate in all the right measures. She tells you the truth no matter how brutal, which has always been how I learn best. There are so many things women hold back from telling each other until it’s too late. And also there are so many lies women tell each other so that we grow up with a very skewed view of how things really work in the world. She’s one of those who tries to catch you way before you feel you need to be caught. She says things as they are, not as we wish they were –which has done me so much good. I now feel I am armed in some strange way. She makes womanhood NOT feel like victimhood. (I had begun to feel men recognise the advantages of being a woman more than some women ever will.) And in general, she makes being a person in the 21st century make sense –via different points of view, not just her own. She is rare (in my own experience) in the world of women (and also humans, overall) and I wish every girl had someone like her from the jump.)
I feel more ‘ready’ than I did when all I knew was that someone else has gone through the same things. Because I’d rather not as many people had gone through the same things. (What was I supposed to do with that fact? Because even though many had experienced similar things, we each went through them differently –leaving us feeling that no one will ever understand us.) I feel that there is a higher probability that I will be able to handle whatever rears its head next. And my past mistakes and traumas no longer define me. Sometimes, the residue of pain is still there. But I have become less and less angry. Less and less of a reflection of the past. More and more capable of being who I am, properly. More and more capable of building new and much healthier relationships. I know better *how* to rely on people, how not to, and what I can offer the people I rely on. And how to cope when someone sees nothing, no value in me. And when I’ve strayed too far… I know when I don’t necessarily need to be strong. I know that my perspective is not all there is. I can be the ‘main character’ one minute and be a supporting character the next –because both are relevant. I am learning to better balance being a human being and being a woman (yes, I can see the irony –if irony’s the right word for it. But sometimes it’s as if there are human beings then there are women then there are people and everyone is a person/is included in that group called ‘people’).
(This article is not necessarily about womanhood, by the way. It’s just that womanhood was one of the facets of this year’s gratitude goal. It’s as if the more I mature, the more that topic demands to be examined.)
And so this year, I wanted to take the time to be grateful that I have the right to be resilient (and to change) yet to depend on people and not to base my identity on how those I disappointed see me or how I see them; or even on those who disappointed me.
Chances are, we didn’t know what we were doing to each other at the time, anyway.
I’m grateful for the woman who was put in my path and opened my eyes to my own resilience, helped me remember myself. And to remember all the good, inner things we undo with time in the name of relatability/getting along with other people. And the fact that it’s not over yet. I define the things that happen to me or the mistakes I made. I no longer have to look back at the past and make it a barrier to receiving everything and everyone I want in my life.
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