Hey there Champ, you look pathetic

 This place looks familiar. It's dark and cold and painful, yet very familiar. Sitting on this hard thing is the most uncomfortable feeling ever. Oh wait, it's a rock. Yup, rock bottom.

 'How did I get here?' 

A feeling of paralysis overwhelms your entire being. You wanna get back up but you don't know how. There's just no more strength left in your body to take any more pain. What's funny is, you were fully aware of the poison when you decided to go ahead and drink it anyway. You thought you'd be able to deal with the agony and the sound of your insides wringing, getting consumed by the toxin.Or maybe you didn't believe it was poison, you gave it the benefit of doubt :D. Your poison could be anything, or anyone. Surprise! You're on rock bottom now. Nah, this was definitely no surprise. Whatever got you here was approaching you in a head-on collision course, in full view. You knew you absolutely had the power to avoid it. You just thought the collision would have more thrills than wounds.

You gotta get back up again, you know you have to. First step is admitting you're there. And well,  taking some responsibility for getting there. Quit blaming the poison, or the truck you saw coming. Yeah, externally, your situation could clearly be that you are the victim...but there's way too much weakness in playing victims. You are very much aware of how victorious you already are.You know this picture of a champion sitting defeated on a cold rock is just inappropriate. It doesn't matter what got you here, all you need to figure out is why you are here. There's a purpose for the lesson you were given, the one that got you here. Yes, it was a lesson. And you were meant to learn instead of just sit here grumbling about how unfair everything is. The rules of lessons remain unchanged -unless you pass the one you have right now, you will remain there until you do. You may choose to become numb to the pain induced by the hardness of the rock and stay there  ,or you may choose to act like the champion you are and get back up. After all, what matters most in any situation is how you choose to react to it.

You are a champion that has won a battle without the need to fight! Not even once. Your real enemy, the devil, comes in a defeated package already. His only handle on you is your ignorance and unbelief in who you are. Would you fight at all if you knew the battle has already been won? What on earth are you doing on that rock,champion? That rock is actually little and essentially unreal. The One who made you a champion is Himself The Rock Of Ages. And on that Rock is light, love, strength and everything else you'll ever need to go through this life.
So, bid farewell to little rock-bottom, it was virtually a stepping stone to your next level.

the indelible words of a stranger

 

I met a certain woman once. She left a non-erasable impression on my heart.
I wonder where she is now. I wish I had taken her number or address or something. If you'd seen her from a distance you'd think she was some old woman just exhausted with life...but the lines on her face were not an indication of age. They resembled pain, deep agony she had had to deal with in her young life. We were walking on the same path from the local town, in the same direction. "Life's hard," she initiated the conversation. I turned to her and smiled by reflex. "I have 3 kids at home," she said. I wouldn't have guessed. I thought she was weird. Who says that straight-up to a stranger?

Twenty-five years, three kids, no husband, late parents, estranged to relatives and beat-down broke- those were her life's details in summary. They had me mute.
"You see my sister..." she began, as if we actually knew each other. "I had been going out everyday looking for a job to feed my kids. I dont have any academic qualifications coz i had to leave school at 14 as there was no money for me to continue my education. I had my first child soon after leaving school, with a man who promised to take care of my every need. We had two more kids together, and I thought we'd be a happy, stable family. I love my children so much, they are my light. That man left us to 'get a job' about 5 years ago and we've never seen or heard from him ever since. I don't even want to talk about him. Anyway, I committed my life to taking care of my children to the best of my ability. It's been indescribably hard." She took a deep gasp.
"You wouldn't believe it if I told you i'm living in a shelter i built with my own two hands. I cant afford to rent even half a room. And I owe almost everyone i know, they have all written me off. I can't count the number of times i've felt like i've reached rock bottom. But last week was the worst. My daughter came to me crying, hungry and frustrated that she could not enjoy playing with her friends because her stomach was empty. I had given the kids the last of the food we had the previous night and had not eaten myself for two whole days. I wiped my daughter's tears as i tried to hide mine. Then i made the decision to go out and try one more time to find a job. Although I had been searching everyday to no avail, that day I was willing to stoop down to the level of begging if it meant I would have something to feed my kids." I was silently listening to all this, astonished. She didn't seem to care about my reaction, she just wanted to let the words out.

"I took my kids and we left together because I was afraid they might collapse if I leave them alone. We headed for the surbub where the rich people in this city live. I was hoping inside that someone would at least give us some food to get through the day. Food my sister...money would have been nice but my kids were crying of hunger and all I needed at that moment was food." She wiped a tear. I didn't know what to do.
" Well, we knocked on so many gates; those huge metal gates for those big compounds of rich people. On some gates, we got responses from servants, mostly rude and saying they were not offering any charity things to strangers. Some politely told us they had no job to offer, or food to spare.My knuckles were hurting and almost swollen from all the knocking. My entire body just wanted to retreat and fall to the ground and bring to an end this miserable life. But I had to be strong just for my dear kids. Then my young son fainted. My heart broke. I fell to the ground to inspect his frail frame. All I could do was scream with the last of the energy remaining in my body. I was willing to be the one to die as long as no harm came to my kids. And then out of the blue, i felt a hand tapping me from behind and i turned my head. There stood an elegantly dressed elderly lady and her maid. She instructed the maid to help carry my child inside her house. We were on the road right opposite her gate.
"What happened?" she asked, gently, as the maid disappeared through the gate with my son. I could not reply.
"Come on, stand up, let's go inside, " she said, her hand stretched forth to me. I stood up with her assistance and held the hands of my other two kids as we followed her into her compound." She paused...as if she was reliving that moment in her head. Then she wiped another tear and sighed deeply.
" I believe in angels," she said. And that was the last thing she said. A car abruptly stopped in front of us and she got in and left, smiling and waving at me. I remained standing by the road, perplexed. I must have stood there for quite long, just reminiscing all that woman had said. I assumed the car was driven by the nice lady's driver and that that woman was now living or working with her or somerhing. I dont know really, but from the way her face had lit up when she said she believed in angels, I'm pretty sure her life has not been the same since she met the nice lady. Her story made me wanna turn back and go back to all the beggars i'd met on the way and give them even the little that was in my wallet and not assume they'd smoke it or whatever. I just wanted to show love. God touched me through her. I absolutely admire her strength and courage. You never know what the people you see are going through. Be kind. Always. 

TV times in Zimbabwe for a 90s kid

 I grew up in Zimbabwe, beloved Zimbabwe; eating grilled corn and scrumptious watermelons.I still have some scars on my legs from falling off mango tress and guava trees. On a normal day my lips would be red from drinking freezits or stealing home-made fudge sweets. However, I would like to express the great impression TV had on my childhood.

 I grew up in the days when there was only one local television channel, ZTV. A second channel, Joy TV aired only in Harare, and being a Masvingo child, i thought that was pretty unfair. But anyway, I had my sufficient share of fun with just ZTV. Mondays! Having to go to school early meant no time for TV .By noon, I came back home all tired and dusty but still as bubbly as ever. Then my family and I would be eating some delicately cooked sadza and a portion of cold  mouth-watering sour milk as we watched the midday news. 'They' watched really. Eight year olds couldn't care less whatever's happening to the world. My attention would be caught by the drama series at 1:30 after the news.  Gringo or Paraffin were my favourite. I enjoyed laughing at all the hilarious moments with my family. And then there was a drama called 'And to my nephew Moses' that also aired at 1:30 for some time. Being an 8-year old I still had to correlate the English language spoken, with my developing vocabulary...so a lot of the conversations went over my heard. And then there was a time when the 1:30 drama became 'Rage of Innocence' (I'm not sure if it was at 1:30 or 7pm), a local drama about a woman struggling with a sexual abuse experience. Everything about that drama, from it's drab opening theme to it's plot scared the life out of me. Thank God for the cartoons that followed at 2pm.Every weekday afternoon at 2p.m there would be an interesting animated series, unless if it was Spartacus and the Sun or the Puzzle Place whose theme songs were the only interesting things about them. Blinky Bill was my Monday afternoon buddy.I would be sad to miss the rest of the cartoon as i had to rush for afternoon studies at school. Afternoon studies for primary school kids though? Well, it's that strict and effective system that played a great role to get me where I am today, which i'll explain in broader detail in another blog. After school i had time for 'pada' or 'maflawu' in the road with my friends. And then we would play 'Chitsvambe' before parting and rushing to our homes. Curfew was 6p.m and I had to make it to the house before my mother closed the doors and windows. I looked forward to Afro beat on Monday evenings. We were serenaded with wonderful music from all over Africa, with the likes of legends like Salif Keita.
Later in the evening came Studio 263, the local soapie which kept us glued to our TV sets as we had our dinner in the evenings. It could be sadza again (gosh), with the delectable mazondo or some lusciously-prepared meat stew, with green vegetables to complete the nutrition requirements. My bed time was around the time the Mai Chisamba show would be starting. The important issues of life discussed on the show were not too significant to me at the time, but I was intrigued by the way my family enjoyed the show. So, I'd rather interject in their laughing at stuff I didn't understand than go to bed. Afterwards, we'd sing a hymn and pray and then retire to bed.
Each new day was exciting; and with the different TV programs, I had a different show to look forward to. I liked the diversity; from Taina to Robocop to Kabanana the Zambian soapie whose catchy theme song I can still remember.Thursday evenings brightened up our homes with Ezomgido, the music show. I remember my mum ordering me to sit down after i attempted to imitate some  dance moves.

My friends and I sat enthusiastically glued to the TV screen for Power Rangers on Friday afternoons. "I'm the pink ranger!" "No, I'm the pink ranger today, you were the pink ranger last week!" Oh, it was so much fun watching the shows together. The joyful shouts would disappear as soon as some gloomy show like Mbira Dzenharira started playing. We would then rush off to play 'nhodo', or 'fish-fish' (skipping rope) outside.

 Weekends were glorious days for me.I would be super fired up for Paddy and Denver the last dinosaur on Saturday mornings.I don't think i woke up as early for school as for Paddy. Then afterwards, tiny me would be feeling fly in a 'pedal-pusher' and a 'one-arm' top, all ready and set for 'Young-Stars' (I've seriously searched all corners of you-tube for this show). It ignited the star in me. I literally thought Harare was the coolest city just because of Young Stars. I watched with bright innocent eyes and sang along with the kids on TV to the likes of 'handirege' by Roy and Royce. Mastering the fancy dance moves from the show meant I would be cool among my friends. I can apologise to my mum now for all the trouble I gave her to get me whatever clothes were trending on Young Stars.

Wrapping up the week with Sundays (Well,Sunday was my last day of the week for a long time) , we would have an interesting line-up. Sundays were the only days I enjoyed watching the evening news as there would be an interesting clip or the video of the week at the end of the news broadcast. Prime Gospel Show came shortly afterwards and i'd be up and jamming along to the likes of Fungisai, Amanda Sagonda, the Charambas etc.
In a way, TV brought us together as one big Zimbabwean family. I felt like I personally knew the TV people so well I remember being genuinely happy for a female music show presenter when her co-host announced her engagement or something...I was only a primary school kid!

 Sisonke, Tiritose was more than a ZBC catch-phrase. And the resounding message of the melodious song that recurrently played as the 22nd of december drew near, is still engraved in my heart, and as i would like to believe, in the hearts of the rest of the Zimbabwean people as well :
"Let's preach unity, the gospel of peace, of human rights, of tranquility, oh yeah,"
SISONKE.