Spring

Just last week the grass around me was brown. This week its green carpets everywhere.Every morning I look at the plants and trees in the park and yards between home and work and there's always something new. I think I probably kno more abt each plant in each yard I pass than the owners do. Trees are budding, squirrels hoping everywhere,birds chirping the whole array of spring flowers, tulips daffodils and hyacinths, lilies of all kinds - love them all.Most interesting flower to me is the hyacinth, don kno why I love that one so much, and don even want to miss a moment of its growth.By the way how did I end up in the healthcare field- not that I'm complaining but at some point I thought I'd grow up to be an environmentalist or do something in horticulture. Guess I still can as a hobby though , prob. is there's so much I love to do.

Spring is a great season, as the world around us springs into new life maybe it would be wise to take account of our lives and maybe start over or better yet revise our goals for the year or even recommit to our year's resolutions. So much positive energy around.

Downfall to spring though, I suffer terribly from allergies.You should hear me talk let alone sing.

Venting cont'd ... more of ma frustrations.

Ha sengizazengibhowe, but this really helps me feel a lot better.

So Tuesday evening was Mardi Gras Pub Night at work. Had a great time, even though ngangilokhe ngivuvuke ngokuzonda from the doc's earlier on that day.Drinks of the day were the Cat's Pee, and our inhouse concoction -Avondale Hurricane.Music was great took me down to all those kuduncan days with Mrs Henderson the Music Teacher at Khumalo, my goodness , asilakutebha to tunes like You are my sunshine, This train, and my favourite was It's a long way to Tiperary ( not too sure of the spelling).

Everyone left at abt 8pm , leaving me to deal with all the mess. Knocked of at 11pm, ain't being paid for it. Sumtimes I wonder why I even do it, but guess I love ma job and the ol' folks, and because its their home , somebody just had to restore the order.

Nothing major on Wednesday, weather was gorgeus, helped uplift ma spirits and I seem to have started some friendship with a police officer. I meet him everyday as I walk/run/jog to work.

Last night was ok. We had a staff meeting, but were not paid for it. Well we got paid sort of, in kind. Payment was dinner, and I for one aint complaining, saved me a lot.Then after dinner was the meeting, and seems like every1 is frustrated, just coz of one person who ain't doing their job.
Abejwabu lethu didn't want to talk coz they felt they were snitching on a brotha rather broda, but in the end they just had to. hope things will improve.

Namuhla work was just work. It was ma off day but here I was working coz boss screwed up. After work, I called frendado to check on her and told her I would be in her area for fish and chips, at this lil joint we like.Called her later, only to find out she didn't get the fish and chips - reason was they ran out of fish, last time we were there guy tuned he had turned off and cleaned his equipment so he couldn't fulfill the order. Mina, being the loudmouth just told the guy off, went on to say how that was unacceptable and told him ukuthi I'd come all the way from Downtown for Inhlanzi yakhe.Told the Guy I aint leaving til I get wat I want, wat do you kno guy prepared our meal, and had 2 happy customers.

So yimi lo, trek all the way to bhururu's place, rap on the door and no answer. Me thinks bhururu is taking a shower , ngime. Rap again on the door, from peephole can tell lights are on. Ngiqoqode njalo , okwepolisa manje, still zwi.Me starts to panic coz she just broke up with her obsessive b/f and all the wat ifs run thru my head. Pull out my makhale and call her, her's straight to voicemail. Ok sengidideka manje wat if he strangled her, wat if this , wat if that, wat if....I call makhale again, and again with the hope yokuthi izadojwa , but nah so I leave a message, hang around a lil , then tell maself its getting late lemme head back home. Manje, the wat ifs have been erased ekhanda, ib.p isisemlonyeni, so not only don't I get me fish and chips that I've been craving for since Noah landed , but ngibuyele amahumpty dumpty, ok and ibus fare yami ke?I want to turn ma cell off, kodwa , think ukuthi ok wat if its an emergency and she really needs to get to me.

Sengisebhasini on my way to the subway station, phone rings , and its her, ngenzeni manje, ngikidnowe, or ngidobhe? choice!!I pick up the phone and she tells me iphone ichitsheke eskhwameni.Asks where I am ngithi sengisesubway station , then she says wothi ngibuye ngizokuthatha, mina nah, coz ngilokhe ngivuvukile ngokuzonda.Gal sezs ah ngisuke ngaphuma . But mina am just determined to go home, and take ma shower and jump to bed, forget the craving for inhlanzi , lost ma appetite kudala, will drown ma self in chips and chocolate.

Am I too emotional? Maybe, remember I am a woman. Am I spoilt ? Maybe, but don blame me, blame the parents, I got almost everything I wanted and things went the way I wanted them to , and I guess I hope to get the same out of life, then again who am I fooling this aint the princess and the pea story, yimpilo.

Venting 01

Wow , sure been a while since I've posted something. Hope y'all are ready for my frustrations.

Here we go.Had a great Easter, took out the braids, and bless the souls of all those who offered to help take them out , but a sista just had to pass on the offers. Had someone take out 4 braids , and I had to say, "Sis , yehl' es'hlahleni." Mean just from 4 braids being pulled out , had a headache, kambe shuwa !! Some of us are blessed/cursed to have kinky mfushwa hair- on this occasion it was a curse.

Am singing next week at church, the second time I'm ever doing that. So I asked a coupla pple to back me up. Practise was to be on Easter Sunday , and I promised dinner and a movie afterwards. So sistagal gets busy buying all sorts of groceries and had a hard time carrying them , then we get to the cooking before Sunday Services which was suming , l mean l can cook , just hate doing so . I mean I hardly do major groceries coz I don cook, then only 3 pple pitch up. Honestly, wat happened to honoring promises. Ok wat abt all this food, I don have a Poppy or Rex to give it to.

Get to work on Monday boss, says I was supposed to have worked on Good Friday. So mina, I tell he's the one who screwed up he told me to take the day off. Tells me I will be paid for the day and have to work on a day when l am to be off.Doesn't want to write an explanation to Head Office xplaining the whole scenario, so much for trying to look Good.

Tuesday, had a Doc's appointment. Met with the surgeon , for my preop. consultation.Appt was at 11.30, sistagal , decided to step out of the 'always late because I am African' syndrome and gets there at 11.Doctor saw me at 1.30 pm and Miss me had to be at work 1pm.The receptionist was just one whore from hell, cranky and taking out all her frustrations on every1, thank heavens my friend was there to keep me sane, or else ngangiyatshiya ngichaye amathumbu.

Stay tuned more frustrations to come.

Avondale - Mardi Gras Pub Night

Had a crazy day at work today, managed to staple ma finger.

So, everyone seems to be stressed and low at work, and we've been pushing for a Beach Party. In about 2 weeks we will have a Mardi Gras Pub Night,this will for the residents and also a welcome for our new Administrator.We got to discuss about the drinks that will be served that night.

Some of the names mentioned were Fat Bastard which got a few come agains, but top of the class was a New Zealand wine called Cat's Pee on a Gooseberry Bush.This got a lot of people in stitches then followed by a whole lot of ewwwws.

Mina, being a non- alcohol drinker started wondering what it is that get's a person to pick a bottle of wine.Is it where it hails from , wat foods its goes with, the occasion or the shape of the bottle, the description or the name.

If l drank wine l would surely go for maybe Fat Bastard, and wouldn't settle for the Cat's Pee.Part of the description of Cat's Pee, goes like so, "...warm summer days and cool evenings have produced a wine with very strong gooseberry aromas and gentle hints of cat..."Again based on description I would pass, not so fond of cats, I hate them.

Then we go to the bottle , bottle is an ordinary wine bottle, just green, making the contents look like bile , and that still wouldn't capture ma heart.Looks like the cat that peed on the gooseberry bush was sick.For some reason though l find the name quite fascinating , and maybe that would be a good enuff reason for me to but a bottle.

The most logical reason(s) as to why l would find myself purchasing a bottle would be as a present for someone who enjoys it and/or there is a lil circle that says, "Helping the OSPCA to provide creature comfort.", so my buck will go towards a good cause as well.

At the end of the day, we decided that if indeed it was Cat's Pee , we would be in good business. Okay here goes ma business plan. We would plant some gooseberry bushes on the 3rd floor terrace, and seeing we have 2 residents with cats , put the cats on a strict liquid diet and just call the cats, "Here kitty, kitty!! come and pee on this gooseberry bush", Collect and bottle everything and sell it, and I ma frenz would be in business.

Case of mistaken identity( or is it really?)

Yesterday I missed church coz l forgot to change my clock and woke up quite late for the service.Later on during the day l called a friend to find out how church was and one of the first things she told me was that a fellow church member , umuntu oqamuka kwelakithi was in church , but she had come alone. Her son was at home recovering from an attack , and son is almost half blind in one eye.
Got a lil bit lost and asked the frendado to chachisisa.She said the cops had mistaken her son for someone else and they beat him up so bad that he hardly had any sight left in the one eye.The son, is just a quiet person who is all serious abt his studies and just an upright person trying to make it empilweni.
Just before I started doing this blog , I read wat a fellow sister had written, and it got me thinking.Firstly I hope the fellow who was a beaten will be fine, secondly shame on all u parents who teach kids how to be racists then when in public yell at the kid for exposing what u r really made of - u need to check yourselves, and stop being hypocrites
Back to my story , was it really a case of mistaken identity or just another black guy that seemed vulnerable and could easily be pounced on, and don tell me all black pple look alike coz u and I both kno that's a bunch of bulls***.Sengathi wona amaChinese or any other group of Asians abafani.Wat eva happened to asking for ID, and since when did amapolisa have the right to ukutshaya abantu?Yet if it happened in Zim, it would be called violation of human rights, and then poor country will be slapped ngamasanctions, lapha ke, kwenz'wani?
This ma friends happened in Canada, where we r told that there is no racism, a country said to have a strong belief in human rights, one of the most multicultural places that l've ever been to.
Racism exists and countries like Canada and England may try to sugar coat everything and make things seem normal yet who r they fooling really.Now if we get practical, why should the black man suffer, coz of the colour of his skin? whose fault is it anyways, did he ever chose to be black?Then u look at the Muslim or the Jew, oppressed coz of their religion, yet these are the same countries that tell u u have freedom of choice and that u have the right to whatever religion u choose to believe in.

We maybe hated kodwa we r the same race that pple will get out of their way to try to imitate.Ayisibo abelungu who go abt getting tans just to be darker skinned, and yet they hate us.Then again they do such things as breast augmentation, and u name the lists of all the yahoos they do just to be as curvy as the black woman. They get all these face lifts just coz they marvel at the black woman who ages with a few if not no wrinkles at all.Then as though its not enuff ukuthi inwele zethu azikhuli , they will still splash iz'mali ezishisile just to keep up with the fashionable hair styles of the black woman. It seems to me umlungu is quite uncomfy in his own skin

Then u ask y does the black person suffer , answer is simple abelungu ngamahater , they kno ukuthi bangaze bazame njani ukufana lathi they cannot , and as such they want to bring us down , and that is y we get all these racial slurs.Imagine the world without the black person and his inventions like the drum , mbira, marimba , and contributions to society.

lts abt time we realized that there is more to a human being than the colour of their skin.

Last night.....

...I spoke to another cousin of mine who lives in Vancouver. Yena her whole conversation was in English , mina ngitshaya ngolimi lwethu.I was hoping she would switch and tune in to ulimi lwethu oluhle but she didn't, then I got to understand why ma dad would get ticked off if all we did was converse in English, it was nothing personal towards the English lingo, guess old man feared one day our beautiful lingo would follow the dino and dodo to extinction.

Ever realize that the pple who don even kno isikhiwa sang'khona yibo abasithandayo. Not to say I am an English expert but am just comfy with the little I kno.

After the whole conversation, l had to play the rewind button to my life and ngapaka to when l was at Secondary School, back to the 3C classroom with u"Skindi" our english teacher.Skindi used to say,"Abanye benu isikhiwa liyasephula lisithi phaqa!!" and he was very right.He was a very good teacher, learnt a lot from him, and lets just say u would count your lucky stars if u managed to scrape a mere 30 % in his class.

One time when asked to write some essays, some gal decided she was going to impress the teacher. Nangu umntwana ebhala, '... birds of the same feather xhibit(to be pronounced as zhibit) within the same proximity...', and another guy wrote,'...he made he hold a stone...' (Direct translation of 'wangibambisa ilitshe')Ayisikho lakuqaqeka on that day, by the end of the term the gal's nickname changed from 'one metre' to 'xhibit'(no reference or relation to the rapper/actor )

We seem to forget that in the process of communicating , our ultimate goal is to convey a message that is to be understood , so we get feedback.So why not keep it simple, achieve your goal and save yourself from being called 'xhibit', and if that don work tune to olwakithi , and u'll neva go wrong , besides u'll get to use some expressions u can neva translate to the English Lingo.

Please don get me wrong, it is good to learn other languages, but remember to be proud of yours too its a great part of who u r.