2015 Aug. 9: Tangled pubic hair

 

Your piece of soft pubic hair is
tangled with mine.
I saw it as I showered.
The blocking white shower surface makes it
transparent that we exist here as one.
I see my black curly stubborn-ness, so annoying
We just came back home from Sakouli beach
It was our second round in one week.
We dived and floated alone with no interruptions
or fear of being coupled
At our own (s)pace
I trusted you with my body
As you convince me that I can.
You begged me to repeat the same style over and over again
‘You can do it’ you said again
I panicked with/out my neon orange life saving jacket
You insisted that the session was passable
Until that salted water forced itself through my nose
It choked me uncomfortably;
I had to come out of the water.
We continued with my ‘special’ shell picking stunt
A way of meditating recently discovered here
in the island
Indeed today was better than day before
Though I must confess,
I was not willing to do it
Swimming was not my intention
I needed to spare some moments and express my gratitude
for allowing a sense of space
for possible healing.

Merci

© Muholi
27/07/2015

 

2015 July 28 Muholi by Val best_0359

2015 July 28: Muholi at N’gouja beach, Mayotte Island. Photos © Valerie Thomas


2015 July 28 Muholi by Val_0310

 

 

 

Mayotte Island files

 

 

Posted in Another Approach Is Possible, Archived memories, Creating awareness, Expression, From South Africa to Mayotte Island, Love, Lovers, Mayotte Island, Power of the Voice, Relationship, Since 2012, Voice, We Are You, We Care, Writing is a Right, ZaVa, ZuFre | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

2015 Aug. 10: A true definition of reality

by Siba Nkumbi

Chubby Vogue Divas, using confidence as their weapon of mass destruction!

59 Years later after the march of women to the union buildings, chubby vogue divas were marching in style and class to eliminate discrimination against plus sized women. What better venue than the Constitution Hill to make a statement on women’s month?
The answer is a resounding jaw dropping wow to the courage and confidence of Charmain Carrol and her Divas.

We seldom witness full- figured women proudly stating that ‘I’m big boned and I love it, get over it’. To be exact the date is the 6th of August 2015 and today myself and many observers we witnessed the roles change!
Full-figured women were doing it for themselves with a ‘We have arrived attitude’.
The timing is just perfect as it is women’s month and the women are doing things for themselves. Gone are the days of a woman having to wait for someone to make her feel good in her own skin by throwing a compliment every now and then. Chubby vogue Divas are a bunch of women that love themselves unconditionally and they know they are beautiful, strong and smart. The best part is that no one can do anything about it. The time is now to remove the stigma around full- figured women.

Charmain Carrol and Diva Desire at the exhibition opening of Chubby Vogue Divas... Photo by Lindeka Qampi

Charmain Carrol and Diva Desire at the exhibition opening of Chubby Vogue Divas… Photos by Terra Dick and Lindeka Qampi

As we approached the venue of the chubby vogue divas exhibition by Charmain Carrol, we were welcomed by statues made out of scrap metal, it immediately felt like home as most of us are familiar with zinc from ekasi. The mood was set and the weather was jovial. Moving into the venue, outside there were tables neatly organised in an L-shaped position covered with white cloths, hanging over the white cloths were orange cloths nicely folded in a triangular shape. To finish the beautiful decoration at the table there were refreshments that were nicely put in order. If ever there was anything close to perfection, this is it.

Fellow artists and observers were already in a gay mood before entering the mass hall which was the venue for the exhibition. It is where the Chubby Divas were owning the space with their photographs hanging on the walls of the mass hall.
As the crowd entered the space, it seemed like they were seeing something for the first time. Even my own jaw dropped l laid my eyes on the amazing work of Queen Chubby Diva herself. It wasn’t with sexy black shoes that revealed her nicely polished toes in black nail polish/cutex. Let me paint this picture, eyebrows were at their perfect state and she finished it off with a red lipstick plus matching jewelry. If it didn’t click before, it certainly sunk in after the crowd saw the statement she was making just by her dress code. Any chubby diva that felt trapped in her own skin left the venue a changed person. Charmain personifies the true meaning of loving yourself for who you are as a woman. Chubby vogue Divas are women that are full-figured and are proud of who they are. Some of them growing up they would never

amount to anything in life because they are fat. Well, not these ladies. They are a bunch of successful and qualified Divas.

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“Why should skinny girls be the ones leading all major magazines, beauty pageants and fashion runways or be the first ones to be considered for shoots?”

This interesting question that is still mind boggling up to this day was posed by the youngest member of the chubby divas. A 19 year old from Dobsonville, Soweto.
To mention a few of these Divas, we have the likes of Faith Nkateko Nobela who is a designer for extra sized women. Nozibele Duze, better known as Riri all the way from the Eastern Cape and Gugu Zulu who is a police woman and a mother…

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The spectators were blown away by this exhibition including myself. It was an intense experience, Charmain was so excited she couldn’t hold back tears. Nothing makes an artist happier than seeing their work not only being shown but making a difference too. She’s a role model to the little chubby girls that are hating themselves because of their weight. Now, that will all change as they have something they relate to and will come to realize that there is nothing wrong with being full- figured all you have to do is embrace yourself as you are, be still and get comfortable under your own skin. Carrol’s work was flawless, she even received offers for her well shot photographs before the show even ended. Her work speaks for itself and the models looked stunning.
The pictures that caught my attention were pictures of Nomsa Buthelezi, not only did she pose comfortably in her own skin, she was wearing a nice traditional dress of the Swati clan. She was also black and proud. Then Nombulelo Khumalo in her nice blue outfit posed to kill, she is not only a chubby diva but an actress to be reckoned with.

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“I knew Charmain through Muholi and we got to know each other from there on, she wanted to do something different and powerful and that’s how chubby vogue started. It was basically an empowerment session to women who are not ideally perfect women in the society. It’s something that’s different and has never been done before “ – Lesiba Mothibe.

“My mom is an activist and a loving person, because when I was growing up we didn’t share our home just the two of us. She always welcomed her friends that were kicked out of home because of their sexuality. So she’s not only a mother to me but to a lot of people and that’s why people adore her. That’s my mom.” – Lynn Carrol, daughter of Charmain Carrol.

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“I dressed up today because of what my photography is all about, I wanted to be a Diva today. I’m always in my jeans and All Stars (sneakers) you know. When people look at big women they think we don’t have style and not trendy enough to look beautiful.”
 -Charmain Carrol

On her right foot she has a tattoo of her daughter’s name, Carrol says that it’s an infinity sign because her daughter stands by her and it is love forever. She also states that, If it wasn’t for the support of her daughter Lynn, chubby vogue divas wouldn’t have been possible because she understood when her mother had to work and most of the time she had to stay alone at times while she was out busy photographing.

“To the big girls out there that feel trapped in their bodies, set yourselves free, get out and love yourself and be a Diva. When people call me is’dudla (fatty) it doesn’t offend me. I know I have flabby arms a big booty and big bones so I don’t need anyone to state the obvious. I am comfortable in my own skin.” – Charmain Carrol

Terra Dick, a photographer shared her views on how impressed she was of Carrol’s work and urges people to stop calling them Iscabaraba (fatty). A word of encouragement came when she stated that, the big women should love themselves more until it’s no longer strange to the ignorant.

A little history on chubby vogue Divas and the exhibition

Carrol started Chubby Divas because she wanted to be a model but because of her weight and her size she couldn’t be one. She then saw an opportunity to embrace big women as they are and make their dreams come true by strictly photographing big women. Also to eliminate the stigma within the society that big women were created to make babies and nothing more. She saw it as a chance to let other plus size women to tell their stories through visuals. Carrol stated that being big doesn’t mean that one is prone to be sick.
“I don’t have hypertension or diabetes, I exercise and walk a lot, before you judge me walk in my shoes first.”
Chubby Vogue Divas started because big women found it difficult to relate to the women on the magazine covers. She started Chubby divas in 2014 May.

She then ended her speech with a bang by taking the crowd for a grand tour. The show came to an end at an extremely good note. Prospecting basics donated 3tickets for life coaching sessions to three lucky people. Each session will be 45 minutes for free. Anele a Life coach from prospecting basics donated the tickets.

 

Previous by Siba

 

2015 Aug. 7: Double Despair

 

 

 

 

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2015 Aug. 9: Balancing culture and activism

by Jacqui Mseleku-Ngwane

In my line of work I have seen so much abuse and injustice that happens in the name of culture. I am a dynamic Zulu woman, raised in a cosmopolitan household so different from normal Zulu households. I guess because my granny was of mixed cultures and I don’t think she even knew what Zulu culture meant completely. I could be wrong, I never learned any cultural practices that I was supposed to learn. All I learned was how to be a dynamic assertive powerhouse who must not be limited by any challenge or circumstances.

No one prepared me for my marriage into a family so immersed in culture. It was like I was a child again learning a new set of rules of behavior where a woman is submissive, reserved, quiet, not allowed to take control of her life. It was an awakening to the challenges of womanhood in rural areas but I learned so much. Even though I fought to keep some aspects of my childhood like reading and sitting with my legs folded in front of me. I was scolded for sitting like that “sit with your legs flat in front of you,” my mother-in-law would say.

 

2014 Jacqui Mseleku Ngwane_9938

2015 Jan. Jacqui led a song at VMCI – Durban. She is a dedicated member of Idwala.

All those lessons prepared me for my work as a gender and LGBTI activist. I understood the boxes that women and men are placed in and our different roles. All that gave me an experience to draw on when I was running gender and LGBTI sensitization workshops.

Culture is good it gives us grounding, but many of the practices have been used to suppress women’s voices and to commit crimes against women and the LGBTI community. I was caught in the middle: married woman this side and expected to adhere to all the practices expected of me being a rural wife and a social worker and activist in making learning about gender and also remembering my upbringing.
At times I questioned who I was, for a moment there I had role confusion, a dynamic powerhouse as I was raised, a young rural wife, a student, a mother.
What was I going to teach my children. All those things put together I had to choose which one was I going to focus on. I decided on balancing everything that I was going through to be flexible in my approach. The trouble began when I dealt with gender based violence cases and men who came into my office undermined my role. It was a struggle that shaped my activism.

I had a lot to learn and made it my mission to work on changing certain perceptions. Working on a case of a woman who was abused for wearing pants in Umlazi changed my activism tactics.
I also had to change my life. The story begins as a student social worker. I was based in a domestic violence victim support centre at a police station and everyday I dealt with 20 and 50 women. There, I was the professional person giving these women advice and providing them certain interventions to resolve their situations at home. I was also a mother who had to socialize her children the cultural way and submit to my husband and observe all the cultural practices that went with my wifely duties.
I had moved back to town but still these cultural practices were active in the home front. My gender awareness was growing in leaps and bounds.
My passion for social change grew. I had emotional struggles. I felt two faced as I was advising women on abuse and advised them to set themselves free.
In my personal life I was stuck in own shackles. I was a doormat at home and at work an emancipated woman.

In the end I had to choose one path. A few year down the line the abuse started, I guess it was his way of asserting himself seeing that I am growing professionally. It was his perception to keep me in line.
After many years of abuse, I freed myself from my wifely duties and focused on my activism. There is no greater feeling than knowing you are free and safe that you don’t have to look over your shoulder all time and being worried about your children’s safety and the impact of witnessing abuse everyday.

New life began where I could just be me, do what I want to do, go where I want to go and do all the things I never got to do cause I got married too early.
My whole life revolved around my boys, family, work and church. I had a lot of growing up to do career wise and worked hard to build my profile as an activist.
I learned new strategies. I realized that men saw gender issues as women’s issues and that there were lot of perceptions about masculinity and femininity. I learned that it will take a lot of years to change gender stereotypes.
We are 21 years into our democracy and women are still oppressed. There is a long way to go but slowly as activists we will continue with our struggles.

 

… to be continued

 

 

About the author

Jacqui is qualified social worker. She has worked for 14 years in advocacy for children, youth and women. She has experience in peer education and life skills training and has published a training manual (‘Asifunde’) for peer educators.

Jacqui’s career in campaigns and advocacy has resulted in a great deal of media coverage for herself and on behalf of her employers. She has held numerous portfolios within Government structures and machineries that relate to work with children and has been a representative of the children’s sector on Local Aids Council in Umsunduzi Municipality, and the District Council on AIDS.
She was the alternate representative for the children’s sector and Civil society Secretariat member on the KZN provincial council on Aids. She has also been a working group member of Yezingane network.

Through her work at CINDI network Jacqui pioneered the use of cameras in her child participation work as a tool that could be used for advocacy for the children’s network, and In a role as gender manager she worked on mainstreaming HIV and gender with faith-based organisations.

In her position at Amnesty International she was a campaigner for economic, social, cultural and LGBTI rights where she worked at an international and national level. She was elected as the representative for Africa on the Global group on Activism which work on increasing activism at local level and achieving human rights  impact. She pioneered the use of participatory methodologies in child participation to which she trained children’s rights organisation on child participation.

In her current position she is the provincial coordinator for Ilifalabantwana a multi donor partnership which support government interventions on ECD where she supports and enables the testing of certain interventions with 5 government departments within the province of KwaZulu-Natal.

Jacqui is a activist and will always be a voice of the voiceless.
Related links

 

 

2015 July 15: Doing the best for my daughter

 

 

and

 

 

2015 May 14: “I’m happy living my life the way I am”

 

 

 

 

 

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2015 Aug. 7: Double Despair

by Siba Nkumbi

She never thought rape would still be an issue at her age, or in the year 2015. However, it seems like the human species has allowed it to be an everyday thing. Sadly, she found out the hard way when she got raped.

Let’s call her *Angie*. It all started as an adventure to clear some mental space. She travelled from city to city, going wherever her heart led her. It was an attempt to get over a recent break up; her whole world had fallen apart, while her heart was grieving. Close friends were concerned about her safety. Angie wasn’t aware that the break up was not the worst thing that could happen. Little did she know that the worst was yet to come, while she drifted in her inconsolable melancholic state.

Here’s the story…

After a lot of travelling, Angie realised that her travels won’t bring her ex back, so she decided to hitch hike and go back home to nurse her broken heart. The timing was wrong; it was a Friday night around 11pm. A silver-grey car stopped to give Angie a lift to where she was going. Inside the car were 3 men and one woman. Seeing the woman in the car, Angie felt safe enough to hop in, since the driver said they were going to the same town Angie was headed to. The fearless Angie put on her seatbelt and off they went.

As the car approached their destination, the lady got off, leaving Angie alone with the men. When the driver started a conversation about how much homosexuality is a sin, her heart started to beat faster; she could hear its echo in her ears. A small voice said to her she must jump off the moving vehicle, but then one guy assured Angie that she was safe, and for some reason, as smart as she was, she believed him. She calmed herself by contributing to the conversation and told the men that homosexuals are not hurting anyone by being who they are.

That was the last time she uttered a word. The conversation got heated and Angie heard the driver whisper to the man next to her saying, “let’s show her”. Again her heart raced, she could feel that something bad was going to happen. As they reached town, Angie could see her Aunt’s house and so she was a bit relieved and asked to get off. The car didn’t stop, and it was locked so Angie couldn’t jump out. The car went in another direction where it was dark and quiet enough that no one would hear her scream.

To give you an idea of these men, the driver was a chubby, pot bellied and sweaty man, with cold eyes. The second guy was tall and dark skinned, so thin that a broomstick could easily break his bones, with hair that looked like grains of rice placed on someone’s head. The last one was just too small to even afford a description. Angie later found out that the chubby man was a father to a daughter her own age and has a wife.The cherry on top was the fact that he is a police officer by profession!
So it was decided amongst the three men that raping Angie was the only solution to show this ‘Homo’ of a woman she wasn’t a man. The one guy started to rip Angie’s clothes off, with the help of the second man. The driver was so ecstatic and cheering, telling the guys “Show her boys.”
At that point, Angie fought for her life; she punched and kicked until the car stopped. They all dragged her out of the car. She saw her life literally flash before her eyes. Those guys were kicking and beating on Angie saying things like “you don’t deserve to live, you’re a disgrace to humanity.” Yes, it was a violent incident.

Some call it “hate crime” to be politically correct. As they took turns raping her, they assaulted her to a point where she felt numb. A kick on the head made Angie pass out while the last guy was busy raping her. Angie is convinced that they left her to die out there, but God said no. She reckons that she woke up a few hours after the incident.
She got up but couldn’t walk properly, because her body was hurting everywhere. She miraculously made her way home, attempted to pee but the damage was too much, it was too painful. When she looked in the mirror her face was swollen and had a little scar on her head followed by a couple of bruises on her inner thighs. Slowly she took a bath and crawled into bed. When she woke up, no one was home. She felt the shame and decided to not tell anyone; until her mom saw the shorts she was wearing that day.
Her mom approached her and asked, “I found your shorts hidden at the back of the cupboard, they were dirty and with blood stains, did anything happen to yesterday?”
Angie had no response, the mother went on to say, “I couldn’t sleep, I was crying the whole night. It was like I was sensing danger,”  instead of answering she went outside to cry her lungs out.

Angie was determined to forget all that has happened and went on a drinking spree. Until she decided to tell her aunt what happened, so that the aunt could tell her mother. The look on her aunt’s face, made her aunt lose her breath. She had to sit down and catch her breath. When the mother heard what happened she couldn’t stop crying. Angie felt fine and so the psychologist told her that she had what they call survivor’s euphoria and in time it will come back all at once and she was right. Angie became a different person, withdrawn and started isolating herself. All Angie does when she’s alone is cry. Angie told the very same ex what happened, at that moment she was blaming the ex.

Saying, “had it not been for the break up, none of this would have happened, because she got raped in the process of getting over the ex.” A friend called and urged Angie to seek medical help and to Angie’s relief 72hours weren’t over yet and so she got helped.  Suddenly there was reality in Angie’s head from HIV to STI’s not to mention pregnancy. Angie was a miserable wreck; her will to survive kept her going.

Angie had never slept with a man before the rape, so her first time with the opposite sex was a gruesome one. She misbehaves a lot lately since she cannot cope with what happened to her, the trauma is real. The only person she feels she can talk to and open up about the situation is the same person that will end up telling her she’s victimising herself. Angie has realised that isolating herself works best, hoping and praying that it will get better with time. She decided not to press charges because she was scared of one of her rapists who is a policeman. She also didn’t want to relive the whole incident over and over during the court case. She just wanted to start all over and forget it ever happened. Angie consciously left it in the hands of Mother God, believing that what comes around goes around.

 

Previous by Siba

 

2015 Jan. 4:  Exploring my femininity as a butch

 

 

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2015 July 20: Painful periods on my birthday in Mayotte Island

by Muholi

… If I had a party last night I’d be waving good morning to those who attended.
Or cleaning the kitchen – washing dishes to avoid possible straying roaches that might be assembling for their night conference eating the remains of chicken bones.
Ya I had no party.
No presents were received either. I’m far away from home.

2015 July 20 Day after my birthday

Muholi in Mayotte Island. Photo by Valerie Thomas (20.07.2015)

I had a lot of birthday (well) wishing messages from more than 300 friends on faceboook.
It is unusual this time that I receive so much likes at a go
Seems like I’m coming of age.
I enjoyed reading the messages, especially those who associated my ‘good work’ meaning photography, with my birthday.
I wished to hear or read more original messages more than those who liked what others had to say.
Yesterday I spent the day indoors.
I didn’t move much. I woke up late, as I had to nurse my period pains that came on the 18th of July, only a few hours before my best day.
I took two dosages of painkillers, but still did not feel better.

I won’t relate to how and where we spent the day.
The blunder I made was to eat octopus curry and rice just after my second dosage of pills, the day before my birthday.

Remember, I’m in Mayotte Island, imagine heat, pain and the frustration of longing for that painfully stubborn clot (flow) to come out, for possible relief.

The night before my big day we had to bid farewell to a friend of a friend as she departed for France after spending 9 years in this island.
After talking and eating, Val and I headed home. I was dying to be in bed, to nurse my consistent pain.

19.07.2015
I woke up feeling slow.
I was sick again.
I drank water, followed by my usual two cups of morning coffee.
Went to the toilet to pee. I could feel at that time that the nausea was almost there. I suppressed it with some ice cubes. I consumed a lot of coffee.
Went to the bathroom and took a bath followed by hair wash like I always do on my birthdays.

For some odd reasons I think the first thing to do by any person on their birthday is to splash…
It is strange, but as I take my routine birthday bath I think of an exhausted mother. I picture her after long hours of labour, carrying a small baby covered in all sort of mucus like fluids. Never mind that it is just the imag(in)ed imagery projected to us on YouTube.

Yesterday I vomited so badly. I don’t know if it was the octopus I had that I wasn’t suppose to consume or it was the Tramadol tablets I had when I got home.

18.07.2015

Val. gave me a good back massage. After that we made love.
That was a great relief.
She left for work few hours later. Wrote a nice birthday message on prescription paper before departing. Near the note were three colourful balloons, not counting the fourth one because it deflated a long time ago.

It deflated a few minutes before my birthday bath.
It was then that I decided to remain indoors, even if I wished to go out to smell the fresh air.
I finished my bath and froze an orange that was on top of the fridge.
Got back to the couch and read my birthday messages on facebook.
Liked some and stared at others.
One that I long for was from my mother. Not that she would have sent it via facebook, but maybe one of her grandchildren might have sent it on her behalf.
On this (birth) day I miss you mom.

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2015 July 7: From a broken heart

by Leptie Phume

In life we fall in love more than twice and get hurt twice as much.
We tell ourselves that we are better off alone, until that one person comes into the picture.
Enters your life and changes your perception about love once more.

You start to see and feel it in a different way, you give love a chance and believe that the person who is invading your heart is your queen and she was created just for you.

She gives you hope that she will make you happy, so much that you forget to leave some room for disappointments. You love with every thing, from your hair follicles to your toe cuticles. And when you have fallen in love so hard, she throws your love back in your face and leaves you to drown in your own thoughts and tears.

No matter how much you dedicated your time in the relationship, she brushes that off.
No matter how much you are willing to fight for “US” she still walks away and doesn’t even look back.

These kinds of people teach you to never be fooled by love. You know why?
To some people your emotions/feelings are toys, something to play with when ever they feel like it. And when they finally get bored of the toy they throw it away and look for a more interesting one.

A good friend of mine once said “Love will leave you unfocused” at that time it was a joke. I didn’t understand what she meant but now I know better. Love is for all of us. It is not for the faint hearted. Just be content that you love wholeheartedly because some people love with their minds.

She broke your heart?
It’s fine, with time you will heal and get over her. What about memories made you ask? Well, cherish them. There’s nothing that hurts more than trying to erase memories, made with that one person you once thought was your forever.

I would normally say, “don’t walk away, fight for what you really want,” but what if what you want doesn’t want you? Let go and let God.
“If one door closes another one opens,” I’d like to think this phrase also applies to relationships.

Keep in mind, God knows there will be unfair situations, that is why he arranged a come back for every setback and a beginning for every ending…

 

Previous by Leptie

 

2014 Oct. 31:  South Africa mourns three athletes

 

Posted in Chance, Dedicated, Emotions, Give, Language, Perception, unfocused | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

2015 Aug. 2: Untitled


I bring nothing but shame to the family

Dear parents, those are your words
Community, society and religion clouds your
judgment towards me, why do they matter?.

Look beyond shame and regret then you’ll see
I am a loving, caring daughter who yearns for nothing
but acceptance
Have you ever thought for a second how I feel?
I am the only one in the family, Being different hurts.

The day I was born, mom you were filled with joy
saying
I was your blessing from the creator, our God
Suddenly I’m a curse, nothing but shame
My sexuality has negatively gained me fame
I am the latest trend
I feel betrayed and let down
Inside me there are flames
Why can’t I be loved the same?

I need no deliverance but acceptance in abundance
I am no punishment from God as they have announced
You always say God’s love is unconditional,
why is it conditioned towards me?.

You see my sexuality as a made choice
Listen to me when I say, no sane person would chose
homosexuality if it was a given choice
Why?
Tell me why Mmmmh.

Why would I choose mockery and insults
Why would I choose an automated life of being a victim?
A victim of rejection and molestation
Resentment and punishment from my own flesh and
blood?
A life of living in fear?
Fear of being true to myself, free to be who I am, fear of
expressing myself as I wish to?.

Chase me I don’t care
Killing me won’t change me, I’ll die homosexual
Resent me
I’ll find my path
Reject me
I’ll be subjected to something greater.
All I need is acceptance, it starts with you mom and dad,
you are what matters
If I get acceptance from you the rest will follow
I DON’T NEED DELIVERANCE BUT ACCEPTANCE

© NkN
2015/08/02

 

 

Related link

 

2015 Jan. 3:  Current situation

 

and

 

2014 Nov. 26:  Freedom … that’s all we need

 

and

 

2013 May 3:  I resent you

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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2015 July 15: Doing the best for my daughter

 

I am Thembisa Cordelia Mhlawuli known as Lovey. I was born in Cape Town in Somerset Hospital. My parents are Nomthandazo Patricia known as ‘Pat’ and Welile Christopher Mhlawuli. I am the last-born, my sister’s name is Carol and brother’s is Ezmond. I stayed with my family in Langa for the first, good 5 years. My father became very abusive to my mother, then she left, and that was the end of a happy family for me.

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Thembisa at Embo Village, Khayelitsha, at one of KK’s events. Photo by by Yanela Ncetani (2014)

I’ve stayed with my paternal grandmother in Nyanga for 2 years. Then with umakazi wam (aunt, my mother’s sister), she and her husband took me in. I stayed with them for the next 8 years of my life. They raised me with good standards, solid family values, which I still carry with me to this day. At my aunt’s I stayed with a lot of siblings and cousins. During my early teens my closest cousin was already dating, while I was a slow bloomer.

20150310 Thembisa Mhlawuli selfie

I showed no interest in boys and I was teased because of this, but it did not bother me much. My life was normal and carefree just like any other teen. My first experience with a girl was when I was 11 years old in Primary School. I remember my friend and I were in the soccer and cricket teams. Unlike other girls, we would chase girls and kiss them and run during intervals.

Well I guess I knew I was different from my cousin, but never paid attention to it. In High School things were different, I met a varying group of friends who were nothing like my Primary School friends. We clicked immediately because we were all free spirited and not afraid to express it.

I was 16 years old when I had my first sexual encounter with a girl, it was mind-blowing and scary at the same time. This girl was in my class; she was beautiful with long hair and big eyes. When she changed schools I dated someone else. Funny enough, my friends never asked about my sexuality, I don’t think they cared. I matriculated in 2004; I was employed right after I finished writing my exams. I worked as a waiter at V&A Water Front at the end of 2004.
With the money I saved while waitressing, and registered at North Link College in 2005.
I enrolled to study Fashion Designing, which was to grow my true passion. I kept working as a waitress because I needed money to maintain my education. I met a girl and I fell in love with, the first time I saw her. She was working in the same place as my sister. Her friends started noticing how there was no talk about and boys and how I had tomboys as friends and how there was this one particular girl I hanged around with all the time.

My sister took me out for some time for us to bond. We talked honestly to each other until she told me about the rumors about me and L. I was hesitant to answer, obviously afraid of how she would disapprove. She sensed my hesitation and said, “ You can tell me anything Lovey, I’m your sister and I love you, I promise I won’t be mad.” I told her, “Yes its true, she is not my first girlfriend, I just don’t have feelings for boys.” Suddenly she changed and told me what a disgrace I am to the family, how I was sinning and how I’m practicing Satanism by dating other girls. She stormed out of the restaurant, while I was left with my mouth hanging, all teary and ashamed.

When I got home that day my grandmother and aunts were home with my sister. My grandmother was disgusted my aunts appalled, telling how they thought my tomboy phase would fade away eventually.

I was told that the family would disown me if I did not stop my evil ways. I freaked out obviously, thought and felt that there was really something wrong with me. I later camouflaged with a boyfriend, when my sister saw this boyfriend she started speaking to me again. I wasn’t happy; the boy kept pushing for sex. Not wanting things to go sour with my family, I ended up giving in and fell pregnant during my first and last time.

I then dropped out of school and while I was caring for my daughter I decided that my child would know me and not someone I pretended to be to keep my family happy. I came out to them. This time I told them that falling pregnant was not my intention, neither was dating a boy, “for the sake my child, I will not pretend to be someone am not,” I added. I explained that if they don’t love me for who I am, then I am more than happy to be disowned by them. At that time nothing else mattered but my child.

I was in and out of jobs, while my family had “sort of” accepted me. They were not degrading me for who I am, my sister and were not on speaking terms, even though she was there for my daughter and me.
My daughter became the center of my world, it revolved around her, and it still does actually. When she was three I started dating again, this time openly, this time it was liberating I must admit. Until I was attacked, on the way from a friend’s house, I was with my girlfriend. It was dawn on New Years Day.
My neighbor’s son was at his house, his T-shirt was torn and he was drunk. It didn’t look like anyone was home so I decided to take him to my house for his safety. After I tucked him on the couch, I realised my girlfriend was not inside yet.

So I went to look for her outside. The boy’s friend was chatting up my girlfriend and he looked drunk. I called my girlfriend because I wanted to close the gate, as she was walking towards me, he grabbed her arm then exchanged a few words. I turned, ready to close the gate, then I heard a smashing glass, before I could turn; I felt a sharp thing on my face.
As I turned, the boy was in front of me attacking me with a bottle kop cursing me. As he was stabbing I evaded his swings, he called me Isitabane and how he hates people like me. He asked why he couldn’t get the girl he fancied because of me, when I didn’t even have “the real thing” (penis).

The woman who raised me, my late aunt Mandisa Magadlela Zini who passed away on the 19th of June 2015 once said to me, “Mntana nam obubomi ubukhethileyo abukho lula and bunobungozi zocela ulumke ugcine imfundiso okhuliswe ngazo” (My child, this life you have chosen is not easy, and it is dangerous, please keep all the principles you were raised with).
She was a pillar and a mother to me and many others that were blessed enough to have crossed her path, May her beautiful soul rest in peace.

I survived that night with a nasty cut on my arm and face. I then started reading and attending funerals of homosexuals who have experienced hate crime and are brutally murdered. I began to attend Gay prides and marches around the community and joined organizations such as LGBTI and Freegender. I truly admired our activists like Funeka “Ta Fura” Soldaat, Zanele Muholi (baba) and many others who have truly made a difference and who are still fighting and telling our stories.

 

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Thembisa’s photo was take by her cousin Solulele Mhlawuli Radebe, during their sister’s housewarming in Delft (2015)

I am proud to be working for a company called Flash Vending Mobile my family and I have a better relationship. Currently, I am engaged to a wonderful soul, soon to be married.
My daughter is healthy, happy and knows who I am.

 

 

Previous life stories

 

2015 May 14: “I’m happy living my life the way I am”

 

and

 

2013 Feb. 8: “Let your voices be heard”

 

 

 

Posted in Another Approach Is Possible, Parents, We are beautiful, We are capable, We Are You, We Care, We Still Can with/out Resources, Women who have sex with Women, Women who love women, Women's power, Women's struggles, Women; Voices; Writings; Education; Traditions; Struggles; Cultures, Worked for us, Writing matters, Writing our own, Xhosa is a South African language, Young female writer | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 6 Comments

2014 Aug. 1: Chubby Vogue Divas: A Critique of the Female Body

 

Poster for Chubby Vogue Divas by Charmain Carrol

Poster for Chubby Vogue Divas by Charmain Carrol

 

A photographic body of work by Charmain Carrol.

Chubby Vogue Divas exhibition is by a Market Photo Workshop graduate Charmain Carrol, (Photographer) which is a series of 21 photos of big black women who get to feel good about themselves in front of the camera.

Chubby Vogue Divas were photographed from deferent parts of the South Africa, namely Alexandra, Johannesburg, Secunda, Soweton Gauteng and Durban, Hermmersdale, Kwamashu, uMlazi, Port Shepstone, Eskhawini in KwaZulu-Natal.

Part of the reason to launch Chubby Vogue Divas was due to Charmain Carrol’s experience growing up seeing only skinny women on television, magazines and billboards.

This is a project that is very close to the artist since she also struggled with her weight from a young age. As much as she loved magazines growing up and wanted to be a TV presenter, her dreams were shattered as she was constantly told she was FAT and she could not be on TV, advertorial magazines proved just that by featuring skinny models/women only.

“I could not understand why I only saw these women on TV, magazines and billboards, in my everyday life women were fuller figured in comparison. Growing up on the chubby side I felt very self-conscious and always questioned why I never saw women that looked like me in Billboards and magazines” explains the artist, Charmain Carrol.

“I had to learn how to appreciate that women come in different shapes and sizes but that does not mean one shape or size is better than the other. I am passionate about building the self-esteem and confidence of bigger or fuller women” further explains Carrol.

With Chubby Vogue Divas project she wanted to create a platform for fuller/chubby women to be celebrated. To feel like a Diva for a day, or more than just a day, where they get to feel like super models, wear makeup try on clothes that make them feel good.

The platform would also serve as place where the models can share their stories and also inspire other Chubby Vogue Divas.

Charmain Carrol is a firm believer that all women deserve an equal opportunity regardless of their skin colour, backgrounds or their weight.

“Women come from diverse backgrounds; they all have different stories to tell. The Chubby Vogue Divas are encouraged to share honest stories about themselves, weight and bullying.  I felt it was important that I include the bullying element as very often fuller or chubby women get taunted and ridiculed because of how they look. This also gives the chubby Vogue Divas an opportunity to step away from victim mode but to own their fuller figures” concludes Carrol.

CHUBBY VOGUE DIVAS by CHARMAIN CARROL exhibition opens on the 6th of August 2015 at Constitution Hill and closes on the 16th of August 2015.
For more information please contact:

Tell: 011 318 3100, E-mail: info@constitutionhill.org.za, Twitter & Instagram: @VisitConhill, Facebook: Constitution Hill, Website: www.constitutionhill.org.za

Prepared and distributed by Yaya Mavundla on behalf of Charmain Carrol & Constitution Hill.

 

Previous by Charmain

2013 Feb. 8: “Let your voices be heard”

Posted in Another Approach Is Possible, Archived memories, Creating awareness, Power of the Voice, We Are You, We Care, We Still Can with/out Resources, Writing is a Right | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

2015 July 31: Lihle Sokhela’s killer shows no remorse

Text and photos by Lerato Dumse

It was a bittersweet moment when Thabo Molefe (47) was sentenced to a concurrent 22 years for murder and 12 years for raping Lihle Sokhela (28). Sokhela was a black lesbian from Daveyton. There was complete silence inside Pretoria North Magistrate Court F, on Thursday July 30 2015, when Judge Mokgotsi announced Thabo’s “punishment” for his September 2014 crime.

 

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Thabo Molefe covered his face while leaving the courtroom after sentencing

Joyce “Sibongile” Tshabalala, Lihle’s cousin, sat in the public gallery, supported by members of the LGBTI community, Treatment Action Campaign, Women’s Ecumenical Conference part of the South African Council of Churches, and Commission for Gender Equality. Sibongile felt that the sentence was a slap on the wrist, considering that this was the 7th conviction for Molefe, dating back to 1983.
Lihle’s supporters, who attended the High Court trial since day one (Monday July 27 2015), echoed her sentiments.

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Lesbian activists from various Gauteng townships were in solidarity with Sokhela’s family

 

Defended by Advocate LA van Wyk, Thabo’s “not guilty” plea became an obvious sinking ship when the judge started delivering the verdict, on the morning of July 30. The modus operandi in Lihle’s case is strikingly similar to other lesbian rape and murder cases. As Judge Mokgotsi put it, Molefe “took advantage and betrayed the trust that Lihle had for him, oblivious to the danger and risk to her life.” Testifying during the trial, the tavern owner where Thabo and Lihle were last seen together on September 14 2014, said, “the two friends were the last people to leave that fateful night.

It was not established during the case how or why Lihle ended up at Thabo’s house. As the sole eyewitness, Thabo alleged he was romantically and sexually involved with Lihle for about a year. He also stated that he was aware that she is lesbian when he approached her, and that he was not bothered by it. He said it was Lihle’s idea that they go out drinking that day, he only provided the money and it was also her idea that they go to his house afterwards. He said things turned sour between them when Lihle wanted to leave during the night and go to a friend’s place. This he said caused them to have an altercation, Lihle strangled him, and he retaliated and strangled her back for about 10 seconds. They stopped fighting, she then requested for some water and he gave her before they slept. Thabo said he only discovered in the morning that she was dead.

In his Judgement, Mokgotsi rubbished Thabo’s claim, calling his testimony a deliberate attempt to mislead the court. Aided by witnesses whose testimonies were rated as credible, Mokgotsi said the state, represented by Prosecutor Salóme Scheepers, managed to prove beyond reasonable doubt that Thabo had indeed raped Lihle and it was not consensual as Thabo alleged. While his motive for murder and keeping her body for more than 24 hours, which was proved by the post-mortem results, was found to have been an attempt to get rid of the evidence and an eyewitness. Judge Mokgotsi did rule out that this crime was a “corrective rape” which is often associated with the rape of lesbian women in South Africa.

2015 July 30 Thabo faced down_2320

 

After his guilty verdict was handed down, the state then read a list of previous convictions. It was revealed that for his first conviction 32 years ago, Thabo was sentenced to caning for a crime of malicious damage to property. Then in 1985 he received a four-year prison sentence for House Break-in, was released but violated parole. In 1988 he added another House Break-in conviction, in 1999 he introduced assault with intent to do grievous bodily harm to his list, and kept it growing by adding theft the following year. He took it a notch higher in 2002 with a conviction on two indecent assault charges, relating to the anal penetration on two young boys, a sentence he is now supposed to complete since his re-arrest for Lihle’s rape and murder.

The court found that the murder and rape incidents were not premeditated. He sat in the box with his feet cuffed together and grey hairs in his head. The Judge told him that he had shown no remorse and taken no responsibility for this crime, proving he is not rehabilitated. The court was adjourned briefly after the verdict to complete some administrative processes before the sentencing was conducted.
During the break Thabo sat with his head bowed and appeared to be crying. The crowd sitting in the public gallery taunted him, asking him if he was also in tears while raping and killing Lihle. It was however Lihle’s cousin Sibongile, who earned a menacing glare from Thabo before bowing his head again.

 

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Sibongile Tshabalala (middle) who wasn’t happy with the sentence.

Dawning their red tracksuits, Xoliswa Bofelo a representatives from Women’s Ecumenical Conference said God gave her the power to wake up every morning and attend the trial. Speaking a day before the judgement and sentence was passed; she was among those who believed Thabo deserved a life sentence. She said, “As women of prayer, we feel for all children and not only ours or our sibling’s children,” before adding that the pain she feels as a mother when such crime takes place, comes from the pit of her stomach.

 

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Remorseless face of the killer…

Before announcing that the state and defense have 14 days to appeal the conviction and sentence, Judge Mokgotsi said to Thabo, “You violated her dignity and took away her right to life.” Mokgotsi said Lihle had the right to walk the streets at any time, had the right to go out and enjoy herself, had the right to be lesbian and that society needs to respect people.

 

Previous links

 

2014 Oct. 29: Court Beat: Suspected lesbian killers remain behind bars

 

and

 

2014 Sept. 28: An emotional farewell for the recent victim of hate crime

 

and

 

2014 Sept. 26: Man appears in court for lesbian murder

 

 

 

 

 

Posted in Another Approach Is Possible, Archived memories, Creating awareness, Expression, Power of the Voice, South Africa, We Are You, We Care, We Still Can with/out Resources, Writing is a Right | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 7 Comments