Finding my feet

I saw an advert for a bank the other day that said '' Once you find you feet, reward them with shoes''. How does one find their feet, i mean hello, i was born with these two feet and there aren't more coming?

Finding your feet is a term widely used to describe ''when one is learning what to do and becoming more comfortable in an environment, new job,new home, new country, new baby. It is getting to know the robes, or settlelling in.

For the most part of the few years i have roamed the earth, i was just a girl from a small village somewhere at the bottom of Africa....a light skinned, chubby girl....i had a name, but i did not quite have an identity, and yes i was just roaming.

Some people might refer to this roaming as 'moving with the crowd', there is nothing wrong with it, the problem here is i moved with ANY crowd, i went wherever they went, agreed with everything they said, laughed at what ever they lauged at (even when i was the joke), i wore what they said was cool and i spoke to please (them), and i am not refering to a specific group here, this happened at school, in my neighbourhood, this 'roaming' followed me to Vasity and allas it made it's way all the way up to my office and my relationships....*big whoah*

Other people's likes and dislikes become mine, their choices became mine, their voice became mine, their feet became mine - so i was a lots child so to say, there where moments where i was myself, but for the most part i was marching on someone else's path...i was just a girl from a small village somewhere at the bottom of Africa....a light skinned. , chubby girl.


*come back soon to read about how i found my feet, my voice and my curves*

Writer's Curse

Writer’s Curse

I am many things at different times
A toggle between ego-full and humble
A careful tip-toe between human and proudly woman
Neither one right nor wrong at any time
I am the many faces that sometimes confuse, even ME

I’m not ‘what’ anyone thinks I ought to be
I am ‘something’ between the world’s conformity nod and the insanity of my pen
Many times over, I have had to edit-out society’s ‘voice’ from my ‘who am I’ story
Re-wrote some words
Bolded some, Deleted some

We can say, I am what the words in my head permit me to be
When they come calling.....
I know not to ignore them
I dance to their buzz and bow to their thud
I have found a home in-between many blank pages

You see, I write to ease the ache of ‘verbs and nouns’ from my conscious
I am a bunch of words longing for some rest
These words hold the keys to the prison for the artist in me
My pain’s end is in MY giving-into their command
JOY rushes in, once my fingers start tapping.....

I am poet, a blogger, a columnist, a novelist, a critic, an avid-reader...a LOVER of words.
At any moment....my ‘I am-ness’ can be defined by my reaction to the words’ call
I walk around with a pen in hand, for I’m forever writing......my OWN story
I write myself into existence
I am who the words SAY I am

I THINK, i am writer

Copywrite : ladyjam productions

If I were Malema, I would have a trust fund too

Picture by Agnes waga Mashao - Courtesy of Ladyjam productions

Let’s say I was the president of the ANC youth league, (minus the chubby cheeks ne’) and I had tenderpreneur wanna-be’s constantly knocking on my door trying to buy political favour from me, let’s not forget that I am a father, in my thirties, earning ‘R20 000’ pm, with a job that has an expiry date (ANCYL policies classifies a ‘youth’ as any individual under the age of 35)…. let us ALSO not forget that I am NOT everybody’s favourite person in South Africa and in Britain of-course– on top of that I also have a love-hate relationship with my boss and the media…..what do you think I would do?

What would YOU do?

One thing I know for sure is that, I would not print and enlarge section 13 of the Prevention and Combatting of Corrupt Activities Act 12 of 2004 and put it on a large frame and display it in my living room.

As a Youth, my aspiration would simply not allow me…. and like many SA youth with an exquisite taste for ‘le-good-life’, a life that a ‘R20 000’ salary cannot afford, I would resort to ‘other’ means to fund the lifestyle of my dreams, the lifestyle like that of children of CEO’s and mine moguls.

But …while the rest of my fellow ‘beeg dreamers’ rush to the banks for yet another credit card – I would simply open my door for the tenderprenuers… invite them for coffee, and we then we would go about discussing a mutually beneficial relationship - the results of which, would be TRUST fund, a ‘charitable’, tax compliant TRUST fund. There would be no violence...just a group of adults extending a helping hand to one another...like ‘borrowing sugar from your neighbour’.

I am glad I am not Malema, I am glad the court has not declared me a ‘public figure’, and I am most certainly happy Ferial Haffajee does not want to publish my financial statements, because low and behold, what an embarrassment it would be – for my lifestyle is purely sustained by my ‘overdrawn’ credit card – I wish I had other means, you know, something like a TRUST FUND.

ladyjam productions