WHY FEMINISTS ARE ANGRY

I don’t where to start but my mother told me to always start where I am because the beginning might not be visible.

I want to tell you that I am angry. I am very angry, tired and teary. For two hours this morning after waking up and reading screenshots of a conversation between two men, influential men, senior political officials I walked around my room trying not to comment on social media. I was really trying to edit a lot of words going through my mind because we women are angry! We are done! I wanted to call up radio and tell them (the two men) “don’t hurt yourself”.  Their rebuttals made me thank Jesus I was saved.

Let me start at the beginning of the day, it’s getting clearer again. In Botswana today, 6th May 2016, a story broke out through screen shots of a Counselor and an Assistant Minister discussing a grave matter. The Counselor was reporting to his MP, the ass. Min that he had messed up, impregnated a young girl “mongwe wa ba nneng o ba rekela diguarana ka December”. In their conversation, the allegations are mapped out, police are mentioned as friends, there’s attempt then success to bribe tabloid editor, there’s mention of paying off parents, there’s mention of another minor that was taken to abortion clinic in South Africa. The mentioned minor is a niece to the perpetrator. The Assistant Minster is really trying to help his friend maneuver these muddied waters, he mentioned maybe making the girl disappear, the response is just as disturbing. “If she disappears I will be the prime suspect”. Not how can you suggest a thing. No. Just that it won’t help.

The thing is I am angry because of these violations, but mostly I am angry that I have to hesitate and see how I can express my anger on such issues that we talk about daily, that gets us label as “bitter women”. That gets us told on a daily “not all men”. That gets us bundled into groups such as “woke twitter”. That makes us ridiculed for calling out a whole lot of bullshit.

Let me be clear. This #SebinaGate is NOT the only one. It is NOT the last one. It is also a meeting point for; years of patriarchy not being called out for its abuses, years of respectability done at the expense of young girls, years of let’s keep it in the family, years of shaming young girls for putting themselves in the proximity of predators, years of shaming young girls for being sexy ripe and ready, years of hunger taking precedence over rape and abuse, years of allowing rape culture to fester, years and years and years. Years of silence, years of labeling anybody speaking out, it’s been years.

We are here now. In the mist of angry feminist women. Angry because they are victimized more than those they speak against, angry because we seem to need permission to express ourselves, angry because we have cried and crying has not brought any change, angry because it seems to take less energy from a man to call out a woman on her abuse “allegation”, that call out a man on his abusive nature. Angry because it is so easy for them to call us WHORES, DIFEBE, BITCHES, MABELETE, DIKWENDE publicly than to call out a man of his abuse. Angry because other women also throw bricks at us in favor of being popular, being respectable, and not being angry, not being woke.

Maybe we’re wrong to be this angry, but it sure as hell not helping that abuse goes on, that people are silent at appalling things. We still make rape jokes. That in the 21st century we still police women’s skirts and their sexual behavior. It doesn’t help one little bit. AND I WILL CONTINUE TO BE.

This is not a fight for women being superior. It’s a plea for our humanity and that of girls to be recognized.

Mme was a Giant

A month and a day ago, my Grandmother said goodbye to this realm. We’ve said eulogies, sang hymns, shared memories. Though she was small in stature, I’ve always seen her as a giant because she carried us, All of us, her children, nephews, nieces, grandchildren, great nieces and nephews. She never tired. This is to her.

On the shoulders of a giant

We stood firm

We saw that hills are not mountains, they even end in small ridges

We saw that they, are, the beginnings of rainbows

We became fearless

 

On the shoulders of this giant 

We bounced around as our paths winded

Seeing wonders near and far

Sending moss code to the world, punctuating it with laughter

We are happy

 

On the shoulders of this gentle giant

We saw the world

We bypassed sandpits and picked out flat rock

There we build our home

We are safe

 

On the shoulders of a tiny giant

We saw our numbers

Close to each other

Knee deep in a swamp giving out heart bubbles

Color and melody continue to swirl around us

Remnants of them cling to us, through them we speak

We are family

 

 

Children Hate Chores

I am yet to grow up and meet a child who loves chores, especially the washing of dishes. In my adult years I’ve come to enjoy the exercise because of its result really (a clean uncluttered kitchen) instead of the process. There! I will engage in it where ever a need arises. A dirty kitchen clouds my mind, disturbs energy flow somehow. So its my therapy in a way, but if someone else is up for it they are totally welcome. Okay before I bored you to death with dishes,I was trying to make a point, which I think was the distastefulness monotony, but necessity of chores. Rationaly chores should be welcome, they are necessary for continuity of life, just like work. Hold on, this is not an attempt to start a debate on industraliasation or our conditioning to it. But maybe you have a point, let’s explore that for a minute. How many people do you know enjoy their work/employment? A few? Ya me too. And how many self employed people or business owners irritate you with “when you enjoy what you do you don’t see it as work”. All of them? Yes! I think they’re on to some thing there. Lets explore it. When you love something its like you’re playing a game, or hanging with friends or reading a great book, it just keeps pulling you in that direction. And the more you do it the more you earn if you’ve structured your business right. This reminds me of what Steve Harvey says in his recent book; Act Like A Success Think like A Success “Life is more than wading through a lifeless job” “My gift is making people laugh” then he goes on to say, listen very carefully, “When we utilize our gift, the universe thanks us by giving us an abundance of riches-from abundant opportunities to good health to financial success”. We cant help but listen to him, we all know how much he’s racking in from making people laugh. No matter how you unpack these statements they lead you to one place. Do what you love, it makes you feel good, feeling good makes you well, in mind body and spirit, and you get to do it as often as you get the opportunity therefore it will bring you wealth. My realization is that children hate chores because they are a disturbance, a break away from the exhilaration of playing, from fun. Like little children, our jobs are like chores, they keep us from having fun, find your gift, your passion, there you will find life.