I am not like those men in the hashtags. I don’t mean the rapists, I mean the other ones. Relax, I have never ripped a woman’s clothes off and impaled her forcibly on myself. I understand and respect consent. No, I am not like the rapists: those stories horrify me and wrench my heart. I am just not like the other guys in the hashtags. Continue reading I Am Still Tempted (When the Hashtags Go Silent)
“Kuzolunga.” At face value, a declaration pregnant with hope but often just an impotent capitulation, a hopeless cupping of hands around a dying flame. It is the last word heard by a wife just before she becomes a widow, spoken as death beclouds her bedridden mate. It rings in the ears of the tenant facing eviction, taunts the desperation of the unemployed graduate and annoys Continue reading Kulungani?
She had a husband but she was no wife. In a world where a woman had to belong to somebody, be it her father or her husband, she was bound to him but he had no obligation to her. Without betrothal and without a wedding, she found herself tasked with living as a wife without the security that a wife had. She was a Continue reading Reaching for the Door
A lot of the time, people say, “I’m depressed,” when they really mean, “I’m sad.” Depression isn’t a tearful sobbing widow at her husband’s funeral but a heavy emptiness crushing the life out of daily living. It is not a downcast face, no, it is a laughing face, a laughing face that “hides eyes that cannot cry.” That is why some of the funniest comedians are the most miserable. What does it say about us, that misery makes us mirthful? Continue reading Eyes That Cannot Cry
In my part of the world, marriage is not just the joining of two parties, it is a cloak of respectable visibility. The voice of the married is unadulterated wisdom while the single are an embarrassing nuisance. Marriage is a holy grail to be sought after with fanatical zeal while singleness is a disease to be cured. I would know, being an unmarried man in his thirties, I have found myself subjected to diagnosis, prognosis and been handed prescriptions that do little but testify to both the immense creative capability and shallowness of perspective of humanity. Continue reading Divorced? Who’s Boasting?
The great arbiters of blackness that I meet everyday have deemed me not quite black enough. This judgement is often pronounced with annoyance and derision as if it’s my fault that America came to me. Continue reading Too Dark but not Quite Black Enough
Deep within us all lies the craving for belonging. It is this pulsating need that leaves us vulnerable to bandwagons. Their resolute sound bites, witty hashtags and rousing visuals strum our heartstrings, bidding our hearts (eager for approving backslapping) to dance to their tunes and join the happy band of fist-pumping acolytes. Continue reading I am Not Open Minded