Dear 21st Century African Girl: New Year, New How?

For many of us a new year is a symbol of new beginnings. New goals, new ambitions, new blessings, new everything. By some sort of miracle, we expect a complete overhaul of whatever the previous year was. First thing first, don’t be sad that it’s a new year and you’re still you. Sure you can recite the age old mantra of ‘New year, New Me,’ and you can change for the better certainly but don’t forget that change is a process.

In order to change something, whether about yourself or your situation you must identify the ‘why?’ Why must you change anything? To understand this, you must couple it with another why. Why is this situation the way it is?

For many things we must change about ourselves we will realise that the why in question is usually based on our behavioural traits. For our situations however, we shall find that there are a great many things that are out of our control and the only thing we can do is respect the process as we try to facilitate change.

Respecting the process sounds easy, it’s not. It sounds like it might be fun, it’s not always. If you’re anything like me (a curious mind and an overthinker) you’ll find yourself asking the question why a whole lot. I’ll let you in on a little secret though, it gets easier to answer the whys when you understand two things.

The first being that you’re responsible for your emotions, and the second that you’re responsible for your actions (in other words how you respond to things). So rather than just asking yourself why? Ask ‘Why do I feel this way about this?’ This in turn helps you react to whatever the situation is accordingly.

When you realise that the action required to change yourself into the ‘new you’ rests solely on your shoulders and that whatever you feel with regards to that change is your responsibility, then you can begin the real work of change and deal with the question of ‘how?.’

How do I achieve the change I seek?

It is vital to remember, however, that it’s unlikely that you’ll get all the answers you seek when you want them. In order to change you might have to do quite a lot of unlearning, but you’ll be one step closer when you start to ask the right questions.

 

*Pics courtesy of the www.

x

 

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Dear 21st Century African Girl

Dear 21st Century African Girl,

This is an open letter, just to remind you that it’s ok to be who you are.  I know it’s a cruel world but you’re doing great, don’t give up just yet, (actually don’t give up ever, if I say yet you might think that it’s ok to.)

Hey African girl, I’m here to tell you that it’s ok to like what you like. Read all the books, watch that anime, listening to that indie rock, all the banging tunes so you can have stories to tell. Embrace your inner nerd because she saves you, especially on all those days when it seems she can’t serve you.

Remember it’s ok to be an afro-punk creative with goth undertones, yes even on our “dark continent.” Embrace what makes you you and let go of the box society tells you to cling to. It’s ok to redefine yourself.

Listen, it’s ok to a Feminist.  To fight for what you believe in. Smash the patriarchy anyway you can and make the world a better place for you. Make it a better place for everyone coming behind you. You need to stop being afraid of creating new paths.

Dear 21st Century African Girl, you need to start. Start making that change and having those important conversations. Start where you are, with what you have. Someone is watching and someone is listening. Even if there’s only one person in your audience you can still change your world so work at it.

Hey African girl its ok to be a naturalista. I pray your fro grows and your face glows. achieve your length goals, don’t forget to deep condition, moisturize and love your crown. If it brings you happiness keep it. If you need to cut it all off for a new start, know that it’s your hair and it’s ok for you to get that fresh cut. Loc it if you want to, it’s yours flaunt it anyway you’ve got to.

Dear 21st Century Africa Girl, be proud of your country and your continent. You were birthed in diversity for a reason. And though it may seem that you were destined to struggle understand that you’re doing the best you can. In a world where you are set up to fail you’re allowed to thrive. As a Woman. As an African.

Don’t forget your self-care and to make time for yourself. Feed your soul and remember that you need to take care of you too. In a world where you’re taught how to take care of everyone else, remember that you matter too.

So wrap that wear that chitenge (African print) out loud and embrace your heritage. They can’t take that away from you not matter how hard they try. the African soil was made for you so shape it into whatever brings your happiness.

 

COFFE DIARIES: Sausage & Chips and Eclairs.

Hello there! It’s coffee time again. Maybe I should start calling it tea time, but then that would mean telling you a juicy story all the time and that’s too much pressure. So do sit down, let’s have coffee.

If I was having coffee with you today, I’d so that thing I usually do where I order tea as I tell you about my favorite traditional foods. Now I use the term ‘traditional’ very loosely here. This is not a blog post about nshima, delele or vishashi, (nor anything with ground nuts for that matter), so if that’s what you’re expecting, shem! (Yes shem! Not shame.)

Firstly, there are a few things you must understand. I love food and I am African. And as a typical child when I had a favorite food, I’d order it all the time whenever we went anywhere. And that food for me is sausage and chips. To date I’ll say that this is my favorite traditional food.

I like those chunky home made chips, too. (You know the fat ones that have character).  Also please, let the sausage be hungarian (praise hands!!) it’s the only sausage I can recognize to truly make the union of Sausage and Chips what it is. (It worked hard for that position, let no boerewors try and put asunder please.) I kid you not. For me the chicken and chips era came far much later, nothing holds a candle to sausage and chips. The love for this meal was so real, that when we first went abroad my sister and I would only order that from the hotel menu the first week of being there (Maybe because it was all we knew), this was only punctuated by occasional orders of egg fried rice and some wonderful beef stew situation (all the yum, yes I remember even though I was only 6).

I would tell you that my favorite traditional drink is Fanta. I was raised in an era when growing up African meant you drank Fanta at every event. Fanta (from the bottle), is for the children and elderly aunts it seems.

If you’re African you will know that Fanta has supernatural powers. I shall explain. Fanta is how my dad would bribe me to stay home and not cry for him to take me to work with him.

Dad: I’ll bring you fanta.

Me: *Yaaaaassss*

Fanta is also how my mum would ensure that I stayed put after she called a photographer to take pictures of me for the millionth time! (A lack of Fanta could be the reason why I’m frowning on all my childhood photos now that I think about it).

If we were having coffee I would also tell you that one of my all time favorite candies are Cadbury’s eclairs and those bubble gums that came packaged like sweets (in that blue, white, yellow and pink wrapper). I remember at some point that’s how we’d know my uncle is home, when you’d see the eclairs making rounds. Sometimes we’d get them handed to us when we went to the gate to pokelela (receive) him after his day at work. He  was always dedicated to our cause.

Anyway, I still love eclairs. In fact, you could probably win me over with a bucket of eclairs (Dear whoever, note that when you do this you must also be ready to bear the cost of my visit to the dentist), a giant plate of sausage and chips (my brother will not approve at the lack of ‘healthy eats’ in this post) and a giant orange Fanta. I long ago moved on to Sprite and other yummy things but you can never really go too wrong with a Fanta, not in Africa.

 

images courtesy of the world wide web.

COFFEE DIARIES: I DON’ WANNA ADULT

If I were having coffee with you I would beam at you a leisurely self-assured smile, because this time you would find me waiting.

I would ask you how you’ve been, with a joking, “Well, what took you so long?” You would laugh and settle down to make your order. If we were having coffee together, you would probably ask me when, on these dates, I would ever actually order a cup of coffee.

I would tell you that what I drink on these dates doesn’t matter, because my taste in warm beverages is as eclectic as my taste in just about anything. Not to say I’m flighty but rather that once I find a new obsession I go all in, but ‘adulting’ takes up so much of my time these days.

“Let’s be honest for a minute,” I’d say.

“Ignore my cheery disposition just for a moment because I have a confession. I don’ wanna.’

You’d probably look at me slightly quizzically then understanding would fill your face.

“Why, that’s understandable,” you’d exclaim, “You have Monday blues.”

Slightly exasperated I would explain to you that my Blues have nothing to do with Monday thank you very much and that all I want to do sometimes is climb back into bed and not have to get into the hang of this thing they call adulthood.

Lets all be honest for a moment here. We have ALL thought about cashing in our adult card and letting someone else take care of the bills, the work, the decisions, really we have. I’ll let you in on a little secret. It happens to the best of us.

In case you were waiting for something sweet or a pick me up, I’m sorry to say that is isn’t that kind of post. =) (we’re all struggling lol). The best I can say is that you’re not alone and that a lot of us “fail to even” with the adult life at the best of times. I do believe though that one day we’ll get it right (if ever there is such a thing).

 

*memes courtesy of the great world wide adult base called the web. lol.

BLOGTEMBER: GROWING UP AFRICAN

A lot of people who have never been to Africa, it goes without saying, have such a warped perception of it that’s borderline crazy. I spent 4 of my formative years (is that what they call them?) in the UK and quite frankly I was appalled and fascinated by how little people knew about Africa as a continent and even more so how much less they knew about my country, Zambia.

When I was due to come back to Zambia, I obviously had to tell the school I was at then, and my class of course and say my farewells. So they put together a cute little purple card of manila paper (I wish I still had a picture of it) with lots of stickers on it of animals such as tigers, elephants, snakes etc.

At this point you’d think that I’d heard all of the ridiculous questions but I was wrong. One of the questions I got was “Do you have tigers in your backyard?”

I was dumbfounded. How do you crush a 10year old’s dream and tell him that there aren’t any wild tigers walking around the back yard that i ride everyday to school and back? 

Another great question I got asked growing up was about my hair. I have thick, jet black, 4C natural hair (Currently dyed, but that’s neither here nor there). And so, I would get it braided in all manner of style box braid mostly and what I suppose the world now calls African threading.  My hair dresser (mummy dearest) would try all sorts of elaborate styles. I remember this particular one she did which looked like I had a greenhouse on my head (lol).

Anyway one of my classmates, Alice (she was half Japanese and half British), asked me if I had to shave off the hair where the parts were done. *facepalm* and she was a very smart girl, brilliant at Math….but….well I don’t know where she got the question from.

This question came from a girl who would do pigtails but just couldn’t somehow grasp that it was the same concept with African hair too. (Still makes me chuckle)

My childhood was filled with many things, games outside with the neighbors, exploratory walks and one of my favorite past times; CLIMBING TREES!! That’s something I loved dearly even though I was constantly told how it was unladylike. (I have the scars to prove it).

The lanes of my childhood memories are filled with visions of climbing guava trees with my brother to see who would be the first to spot mom coming back from work and scrambling down hurriedly to go greet her. Other slides show my brother attempting to teach me stealth by showing me how to catch dragonflies. My memories are filled with flavors of ice-cream, chocolate eclairs and bubblegum. With the smell of roasting mango, groundnuts and cassava, and boiling milk tea.

Childhood was interesting; filled with many lessons, because indeed Africans take the whole it “takes a whole village to build a man” thing very literally and very seriously. So you almost always grow up with a hoard of aunties and uncles and cousins that aren’t related to you by blood but are family all the same.

Growing up African is an experience like no other. Indeed I haven’t gown up any other way so maybe I can’t say for certain; but I hail from a land of strong people and carry my heritage with pride.

 

 

 

*pictures courtesy of the world wide web

COFFEE DIARIES: WELCOME TO BlogTember!

If you were having coffee with me I’d ask you to bear with me. Apparently I tripped and landed into another writers’ challenge.

As you may, or may not know (I don’t know how badass your stalking levels are, so I’ll hush…) a few months ago I embarked on a 60day Micropoetry challenge with a few friends. I’m proud to report that most of us actually wrote 60+ poems; everyday for 60 days. Yaaaaaay!

This time, apparently, thanks to Beaton I’m to blog every day on this month. As we can see this clearly isn’t going so great I’m already four days late. I can’t promise to blog everyday of the month but I shall try to write more.

If I was having coffee with you this is the part where I would have to reveal my goals for partaking on this challenge and all that jazz. So here goes;

My reasons are simple. I’m looking for growth, as a writer and as a person and you know what they say; “practice makes perfect.” It’s really that simple. As a writer often, we struggle to identify wholly as a singular entity because as F. Scott Fitzgerald said we really are a lot of people wrapped into one. I hope at the end of this journey we’ll be able to see the different Mes that make me up. (Is that sentence even English? – I think i just made the grammar nazi in me cringe)

I could also tell you that this is about getting the African story out there, to give people a glimpse of my country and blah blah blah. In essence it will come about in a round about way I’m sure, but personal growth this my current endeavor.

 

So lets clink our mugs and hope for the best! Here’s to BlogTember

Bless!

 

OTAKU NAKAMA

You are the Hana to My Alice,
I would search everywhere for Yuda!
Your friendship is Papa Coo’s arm;
A most prized possession.
Together may we see the great dragon in the sky,
even when it rains.
May our friendship keep regenerating like Araragi-kun
from loner to K-Pop Star.
May our Loyalty be like that of Hanekawa,
even in days of Cencoroll doom.