Black Lives Matter

Being black is not a crime we are neither inferior nor superior. What then are we? 1652 marks the year slavery crept its way into South Africa at the hands of Colonialism, to date that’s 364 years. A document signed and approved in 1996 did not rewrite history that cannot be done. One cannot simply rape a child then take it back with an, I’m sorry. The painful scars of enslavement run in our blood. Many are free raised by slaves so like a  lion raised by a lamb we do not know who we are. So we fight not truly understanding what we are fighting. We protest proudly and for what?

The movement entitled Black Lives Matter to me it is not to say that other races don’t matter but, that black people are humans too, we too do matter. For many years, the value placed on black lives has been astonishing. The painful reality is that black people themselves do not see the value that they carry. This does not exempt me when seeing a white person begging my heart is tugged more, yet I have the audacity to roll up my window at the black kid begging as if to say that could never have been me. Something is wrong with the way I think.  No one taught me to love the skin I have, I have heard of and seen on media of dolls representing people of colour yet I cannot recall touching on with my own hands. My hair is coiled, rough and thick it my natural hair yet even black people still ask ‘when are you going to get your hair done?’ enlighten me what is wrong with it?

I am thankful for what was done to afford me the opportunities that I have today, yet I am not satisfied, we have come this far we need to move forward. The how is what circles my mind because I do not really understand what needs fixing. With an aching stomach I can always go to a medical doctor; without any reservation take his word at what I need to do in order to heal. So with an aching nation where will we choose to go?

Racism, discrimination and segregation is still real it’s the love child we want to ignore, but that child is acting out to be seen and reality is that child cannot be ignored any longer. We say we want equality but, how do we measure that scale. Who dictates the rules?

Being a victim of circumstances is the life story of a black man and woman… it’s what we know. We were given a paper that said we are free but, no one put a roof over our heads, clothes on our bodies, educated our minds; we did get something, enough to allow us to merely exist. There are privileges handed to people just because of the colour of their skin, it sucks being the spectator. Keeping silent and acting like nothing is erroneous I seem to do horribly.

I do not hold any resentment towards any human who is not Black, just like me you did not choose which race to be born into those cards were just dealt into your hands. You suffer, struggle hurt and cry just like me. We were birth from a woman, both breath the same air, are allowed to walk on the same planet, yet my friend we are not the same.

I do not have any answers or solutions but, I do want to be part of them. Not through violence, human degradation or ignorance, history has taught me better.

So I started here, I asked a question to Black(B) and Non-Black(NB) people to sum up in one sentence their life experience being the race they were. Below is what I got: 

B- Black since birth its melanin that runs in my roots, am living proof, blessed and been through institutes but always been colonised by greater institutes.
 #blacklivesmatter

NB- My experience as a white person: it's been blessed, privilege and full of options and being brought up with a sense of this being my rightfull place and at the same time a sense of discomfort in realising the injustice around me, knowing something must change.... hope thats ok it sums up my journey as a white person over the period of my short life so far in a sentence

NB- I long to see a nation where ethnicity is celebrated, for we are all people an \d we are children of the same Africa.

B- Being a black young woman I feel undermined by my male peers (of both caucasian and black descent) in my field of study because I am delving into their professional playground whereby only few women apply or even succeed..

NB- I am the embodiment of the rainbow nation; my genetics are from a broad range of races. Being a dark in complexion mixed race or rather classified as "coloured" individual has its challenges in society. Everyday I get mistake for a different race, the most common is Indian, followed by black, then coloured & even Latino. My experience in life is that I have to work hard to be taken serious on an average day of being considered Indian, coloured or Latino - and I have to work even harder on the days that I'm consider black.

B- Colour Blind, that's how I grew up,being the "black kid on the block" jealously always came my way but love from another race taught me to just be colour blind!

 Now I ask you that very question to:

In one sentence, how is it like to be the race that you are?

This is the face of a Black life that matters #blacklivesmatter

Skin deep

What is it like to wear your skin?

Wearing my own skin is something I know well

I have done it for 22 years

 wearing your skin, I know nothing about 

I never grew up with your parents

Well, unless you are Lloyd or Floyd

 your joys and sorrows

I never share shared 

 in your shoes, I have never walked

they would be too big or too small

 through your days at school, I was never there

I don’t know your story

but, I know that you have one

and I know

it is as real to you as mine is to me.

So what is it like to wear your skin?

What makes you cry?

What make you laugh?

How many times have you mended

your broken heart?

How many times have you stepped on a scale

and felt your stomach turn?

What make you cry most

the fact that your father is not around

or that your mother doesn’t get you?

Do you always feel like a failure

or does that come and go?

Do you regret getting married?

Do you wish you could carry your child’s illness?

Do you ever smile?

Who hurt you?

Why the anger?

Does the name calling ever get to you?

Does anyone ever look you in the eye?

Do you have a friend?

Are you afraid of what the future holds?

Are you tired of answering, I’m fine

every time someone asks how are you?

Who knows your story?

Who has heard your pain?

Are you okay like, really are you okay?

So what is it like to wear your skin?

What is it like to wear my skin?

Painful at times yet the scars are healing well

Lonely at times but, the silence can be beautiful

Scary at times yet I have come out stronger

I know this to be true

I have seen the sun come up in the morning

And down in the evening

Some days I wished to end sooner

others never at all

but, all I got was 24 hours

Which come and went.

As much as we can relate

I will never know what it means to wear your skin.

So what is it like?

St. Valentine the old Romantic fool

Born in Rome 14^th February Lupercalia, was a product of a Roman fertility rite; which entailed his father to pick a name from an urn and mate with a stranger till a child was born. Under the leadership of Pope Gelasius the circumstances surrounding his birth were deemed an un-Christian act and was forced to change his name to Valentine. As he grow he learnt that in England and France his birthday coincided with the mating of birds, he thought that to be romantic. With such a fate of love on his life he thought it noble that he bring love birds together, so he became a priest. In his time of service he befriended two men in the Catholic Church who too were named Valentine but, were sadly martyred.

He continued his quest to bring love birds together yet Emperor Claudius II disagreed; he needed focused soldiers and unmarried soldier were the best kind. In all him power the Emperor prohibited the marriage of young people. In all secrecy St. Valentine continued to bring young birds together. The Emperor however found out and locked him away to never see day light again. St. Valentine’s jailer had a blind daughter, Julia whom he grew fond of, he prayed with her everyday till her sight was restored. A love grew between the too, but to his heart's demise the love would never blossom for he was to be executed. In his last days he wrote a letter to his love, dear Julia, signed From Your Valentine. St. Valentine was executed on the 14^th of February and buried in the Church of Praxedes in Rome; out of love Julia planted red roses by a tree near his grave.

To keep her loves memory alive she had cards made and told friends to share them with a love one. A tradition grew, by her death every 14^th of February celebrated her first love. Today Valentine’s day is the second most popular card-sending holiday after Christmas grossing 15 million cards exchanged annually.

The actual history of Valentine’s Day is a mystery, the day itself is beautiful and tragic…

….however yours may go Happy Valentine’s Day.

I am a Vessel

I can only be filled from a limitless river

My content is what gives me worth

Not the beauty that I do carry on the

outside

I have been broken before

and all my content spilt out

but, slowly through different processes

my Creator put me back together again

I never lost my beauty when he put me together again

I went back to the overflowing river

and was filled.

I am a vessel

What I carry on the inside is what gives me my depth.

What I carry inside is who I am.

What I carry inside reveals the true nature of my creator.

I am a vessel

I have learned to stay in the presence of my ever flowing source.

I no longer have to worry about being empty

because I am constantly overflowing

When I overflow I fill the other vessels,

Vessels which still need to be filled

When I look around at the empty vessels

they all remind me of me

When I was stuck with the dilemma:

WHO AM I?

Then I realised…

the only way I could ever know

why I was made?

was to ask my CREATOR

and I did

then I learned  I was born to be filled

and to overflow

so that I that I can fill

I am a vessel

I may look like an ordinary object

Overflowing with some kind of content

but, if you come a little closer

You will realise

That I am one of the most extraordinary

Creations ever created

I AM VESSEL