ABOUT CROP TOPS, MINI SKIRTS, LOW RISE JEANS, IMMORAL DRESS AND SWAZILAND

I was going to write an article on Swaziland's recent decision to enforce the 1889 law that bans "immoral dressing". But I figure if you've read SLUT WALKS and you know how I feel about women being told how to dress. But I feel it is my duty to share with you a certain young lady I love and adore's article on it. I was going to ask her to write something on it as soon as I came back from my holiday because she is actually from Swaziland  well, half way. But anyway, she beat me to the punch because she doesn't holiday, and here is a link to my soul mate Siyanda Mohutsiwa blog SiyandaWrites.

About The Author

Siyanda is a 19-year-old BSc undergraduate studying Mathematics/Statistics at the University of Botswana. She lives for mathematics, literature and laughing loudly at her own jokes. She has a particularly inexplicable passion for feminism, pan-Africanism and a growing interest in the socio-economic landscape of her country. She also has a border-line psychopathic love for dead African heroes. She refuses to reveal more on that issue.

Her sometimes indiscernible cries to her imaginary audience can be found on Twitter (@siyandawrites). If you happen to be in the country you can find her articles in the award-winning Sunday Standard’s The Telegraph. If you aren’t, a quick browse through the Sunday Standard website will land you in her articles.

Email siyandawrites@gmail.com for inquiries regarding freelance writing and editing.

P.S I am glad I don't live in a country that subjects me to so much. They're still too many women out there in such situations. allow me to say it but too many of our women down in the field. But at least i know a lot of women whose skill and passion is strong enough to pull the rest out. My Christmas wish is that more of them are born and none of them are afraid to fight the war. 

When I grow Up I Want to be Pope

I don’t really want to be pope when I grow up, but I imagine there is a little girl somewhere in this world kneeling in a Roman Catholic Church praying she gets to be Pope one day, so this one is for that little girl. I’m not a very religious person. By religious of course I mean I don’t belong to a particular church. I’m not atheist either because I use Rollo Reese May’s definition of an atheist,  “call it confidence in the universe, trust in God, and belief in one’s fellow men or what not, the essence of religion is the belief that something matters- the presumption that life has meaning. So the religious person is one who has found meaning in life. And an atheist is one who cannot, or has not found it.” I have found my own meaning. I don’t think my issue is with religion, or God. Although I've been told there is a special place for me in hell, that’s not my issue. I think my issue is with institutions in general. I don’t like institutions, religious or not. I simply do not want to be institutionalized. 

Albert Einstein apparently said “Imagination is more important than Knowledge.” How true would you say this statement was? How important is innovation in any field? The thing with institutions is they slowly murder your ability to be imaginative. Like, Harper Lee said, “The book to read is not the one that thinks for you, but the one that forces you to think.” You know what the problem with being institutionalized is? The problem with being institutionalized is we have a bunch of rules dictating what you can and cannot do. You know what the sad part is, you have a billion people in the world walking around thinking they’re special. In the words of Dash Incredible, “saying everyone is special in their own way is just a nice way of saying no one is special.”

 Do you remember in primary? There was a stage where you learnt that little speech. “My name is Tshepo. I am 7 years old. When I grow up I want to be a Insert Teacher’s choice.” that sentence is the first step into being institutionalized  Fire-fighter, soldier, teacher, doctor all of these careers these teachers picked for you are that first step. Of course unless your parents are “baby boomers” they've also been institutionalized  No teacher picked I want to be “a broke poet travelling through Europe appreciating art eating French croissants, and bar-tending for a little bit of money.”

I mean my baby sister came home the other day and told me she wanted to be a doctor. She is seven. When I was her age I wanted to be a princess. So I’m thinking she is either really smart and has figured out her older sister is a flop, ( I've decided I want to write for a living and be an activist I’m typing this in the hope that it will save me the conversation with my mom. Hi mom.) and her parents need something to be proud of. Or I've been screwed from day one. Anyway back to institutionalization.

We live in a world where we’re fed mixed singles. On one hand you’re told you’re unique, be yourself, you’re special, on the other you’re fed mass everything. Mass education, Mass religion, Mass clothing, even be unique is becoming a mass message. So here we are humans, who are brought up in homes with individualistic believes then taken to institutions with mass believes. Imagine if my family had been catholic, I’ve spent my whole life with my parents telling me I can do anything I want, I can be anything I want. Imagine then that I came home from Sunday school and told my mom, hey mom guess what I've decided I want to be pope. I’m imagining my mother has to tell me why I can’t be pope, which from the research I've done stems down to me being a girl. I’m imagining telling your child they can’t be something because they’re not allowed to must be traumatizing.

So I don’t like institutions. I don’t like schools. I didn't like reception. I didn't like primary, middle school or high school. Unfortunately varsity has changed nothing. I like education. I like knowledge. I have an undying thirsting desire for knowledge. I’d rather read my text books at home than sit in class. But I would also rather sit on Google and find ways to prove those text books wrong. I’m probably just anti social but truth told I don’t think I even like the institution of a country or a government rather. I've read this blog post over so many times and feel it makes no sense. But let us see how this will work out. I have no reason for hating institutional-ism other than that I am also a sad result of it. I wish I wasn't  because maybe then I would believe my dad when he said I should be Botswana’s first female president. But unfortunately the institutions tell me I won’t be, because Botswana’s Political institutions do not foster female presidents or even politicians. So I’m sorry, I’m sorry to all the Catholic little girls that will never get to be pope.

BEAUTY AND THE BEAST

The title of this post is the title of a newspaper I read this morning. One I’m typing this sitting next to, distraught. I haven’t had anything to say for months, which is rare because I always have something to say, so perhaps I should say I had nothing worth listening to. But I've been caught up in my own world for a bit now so I again apologize. I however find my heart in turmoil and somber moods this morning, and felt a need to share with you why. In case you have not picked up this week’s, The Midweek Sun you probably should. This week’s headline “Beauty and the beast”a story that describes how, Thabo Masilo a 21 year old Botho College student raped, robbed and murdered 17 year old Tshepang Motlhabane. I have a lot of things to say, but my hearts to heavy to say all of them.

I’m not writing this so I can call Thabo names or call him possessed by demons, or ugly, or a beast because truth is so many women get raped, robbed and murdered so often you’re more likely as a woman to get raped than graduate school in some countries. I’m writing this because of some of the things I read in the article that raised flags for me. I’m not looking for someone to blame, I’m just highlighting what went through my head as i read this article, which for lack of better information is my only source of light as to what happened in that sad home on that day.

“The stranger was 21 year old Thabo Masilo, a botho collage student. It later turned out the assailant is a serial thief and rapist on the police wanted list.”_The Midweek Sun I don’t understand. So we know where this boy goes to school, he has been on a wanted list and they still couldn't find him? We have a population of about 2 million. In the whole country, how is it not possible to find these people on “the wanted list”? How? The police have a show on BTV, have you seen the wanted list? I want to see it. So I can know. So I can put it up on this blog and you guys can call them when you see these guys walk down a street. Because you see them, you walk past them every day. That is an extremely scary thought. That I probably walked past this guy a billion times in game city, maybe he even hit on me since Botho College boys are always hitting on me in Game City.

Then the MP Ntuane’s radical statements on how the security guards should have allowed the people to assault the criminal. I don’t know man, you’re going to solve the crime in your constituency by encouraging a different crime? Like really that’s your plan? Instead of commending the security guards for responding immediately and not allowing the perpetrator to escape while they waited for the police, you’re going to ridicule them. Call out the police for not being first on the scene.

“He told us he came under the pretense of inquiring about a servant’s quarters to rent. Then he asked for water to drink at which point he followed the girl inside the house, locked it, and proceeded to rape, rob and stab her repeatedly”_ mother (The Midweek Sun)

I live in a village on the outskirts of Gaborone. Villages are quite, wholesome, one big family, but my neighbors will all tell you I do not open my gate for anyone. I stand inside, you stand outside we communicate through a wall. It’s a simple safety and security thing. Something we take for granted. I've therefore put together a list of simple things to do to ensure your safety as a woman. Maybe not ensure but improve your safety..

GOING OUT

• ·         Turn down drinks bought and poured when you’re not present, for the simple reason that they’re more likely to be spiked. This applies to both alcoholic and none. Roofies knows no boundaries.
• ·         Random rides home? Cabs are not the safest. But they’re safer than a random person you met in the club after a couple of drinks. Opt for cabs with home offices or centers like smiley cabs, hello cabs etc. As compared to the individual cabby.
• ·         The buddy system. Try to share cabs with your friends rather than each taking their own cab or ride home. That way you can make sure you’re safe.
• ·         Also watch your friends and who they’re with, the assumption is they’re doing the same for you. Culprits are intimidated by a lurking friend that will not be separated from her friend. They’re less likely to act if a pack of females sticks together.
• ·         If you’re drinking. Drink responsibly. Blacking out in a car, floor, bathroom is not sexy neither is it safe.
• ·         Opt to take cycles being the “designated driver” even if no one is actually driving. It makes sense to have at least one of you sober enough to be the brain of the group.

AT HOME

• ·         Follow your instincts. You are not obliged to open a door for any one you do not know. Neither are you obliged to even answer a door. Even if it’s the police. ( I ignore them at my gate all the time)
• ·         If you are home alone, do not disclose this information. Try to give the impression that someone is in the house with you. Call out a random name or something if you feel uncomfortable with someone inquiring.
• ·         Double check locked doors as well as locked gates and closed windows.
• ·         Refrain from watching TV or listening to music at high volumes as this impairs your capability to hear what is going on outside. That does not mean go outside if you hear something.

WHEN DRIVING

• ·         Keep your handbag, laptop bag other valuables in the boot of the car or in a place they cannot be seen.
• ·         Have your windows installed with a shatter proof film, it can both protect you from the sun as well as impair someone’s view of what’s in the car. It can prevent injury if your window is smashed in a smash and grab.
• ·         Do not pick up hitch hikers, stop for break downs, etc
• ·         Make sure your car has good maintenance to avoid having a break down in a dangerous place.
• ·         Learn how to change tyres. A flat tyre can be changed within 45 minutes, less of a security risk than waiting for 2 hours for your knight in shining armor to come save you.
• ·         Avoid back roads and unlit roads after dark.

Other tips

• ·         Avoid elevators. No building in Botswana is that high you cannot take the stairs. You do not want to be stuck in an elevator with a person that scares you.
• ·         Heels make for very good weapons; if you find yourself in a bad situation use them.

If there are anymore tips you’d like to add. Do post them in the comments box. J

My condolences to the family of that young girl and may her soul rest in peace.

Super Hero Stunts

Let’s talk feminism. I imagine you’ve been reading this blog for a while and have come to the conclusion that it’s written by a female for females. You’ve also probably also come to the conclusion that I’m “politicking my outrageous, wild, provocative shit” as one of my twitter followers @PRLBeekstar put it. You’ve seen the Feminism tag. If you know me personally, you’ve probably even heard me say “In my spare time (which is disappearing with every passing day) I run my feminist BlogSpot.” If you know me personally you probably know that I fight very few wars. One of which happens to be the war for women’s rights. This is how I view myself, Human before Woman, Woman before African, African before Writer, and Writer before poet. These are also the order of my wars. I fight for humanity, then women, followed by Africans, Writing then poetry. But you should also know that even though I’m very judgemental I accept people for whom and what they are. Which is what I feel a lot of women need to start doing.

This semester I’m taking a lot of classes that seem to continue to bring up the feminism issue. Which is weird right? I mean considering my majors. So I’m in class opening my mouth (because it just has a brain of its own) and having to encounter such strong opposition. On Monday(13 August) in my contemporary Africa class we were discussing how colonialism had a strong influence in cementing the patriarchal systems of Africa by making them law. For example the known custom that the first born male inherited everything was now a law. It further fuelled patriarchy in that it allowed men to be the bread winners in the family by sending them off to earn income in fields or mines, leaving the women as temporary head of households. So I being me of course decided to ask my lecturer if he thought that colonialism could be blamed for the degrading and disregard of women in today’s African society. I went on to further elaborate that by this I meant that did he think that before colonialism; before Africans had laid their eyes on the “white man” did he have any prior knowledge to them having lived as equals (women and men)? I wasn’t asking to be controversial. I was asking simply because I assumed he might share a writing or text he had read about Pre-colonial African History. I’ve read a few internet sites on how women were viewed as goddesses back in the day. But I was hoping for an academic source.  Either way my intentions aside, the class headed into a discussion and I was again misunderstood.

A student argued that our chief ideology still carried patriarchy as they were no women. I argued that when I said equality I didn’t mean we’re the same. I meant a mutual understanding and respect for each other. I went further on to say that people need to understand that when tribes went to war, chiefs led the troops. It only made sense to send a man. Another argued that the initiation that women’s clitorises were cut off to increase a man’s pleasure during sex. I argued that men had circumcisions performed at their versions of these ceremonies. Furthermore they were probably unaware of the pleasure nerves located in a clitoris. My favourite answer however was by a gentleman in my class from Uganda. His theory consisted of a thing I call the male ego (I intend to write a paper or thesis on this one day). According to him, “men probably lived with a mutual respect and harmony with their women. Maybe even viewed them as sacred and goddesses. However when slavery came, two things happened, men were stripped of their title as protector and they were beaten into submission. They reacted as any man who prides himself would; they looked for the next thing to assert power over, something weaker than them, Women. Maybe this was the answer I was looking for. Maybe it was an excuse I wanted to give African men to at least have a little faith in them. But I was content with this answer.

Then Today (15 August 2012) I again went of blasting. We were discussing recruitment methods in Personnel Management 306, when the topic of blood tests came up. Our lecturer mentioned that in certain sections of the working economy a pregnancy test is required. He went on to further mention that in the BDF for example, even two years after admission for training or a job getting pregnant is an offence. But doesn’t this question the labour laws that protect women from gender discrimination in the work force? Doesn’t it go against all my principles? As the voice of women in my class went on to get dramatic and touched over this. Sighing out loud and protesting to my lecture as if he’d made the policy, I fell into Human. Remember I’m human before female? My first objective is to preserve human life. My lecture required I give my opinion on this and my answer was,      

       “I’m a feminist. My definition of feminism of course is simply my belief that being a woman should not pose as an advantage or disadvantage anywhere in my life. But the fact of the matter is as a woman you have a responsibility to your child before yourself. If you’re going to work in a radioactive environment save us the law suits and use birth control. If you’re going to join the army don’t be dumb enough to think you’re going to war and not risk losing your child. Quite frankly women need to accept they’re women and stop being so dramatic.”

I didn’t tell you these two stories just so you know what I’m doing in my classes. I told them to you because they have one common denominator here even though they’re so completely different discussions. In the first story, my question is misunderstood to mean that I think women and men are equal, while in the second one the women show an urge to want to be equal. Women and Men the gender equality movement, I’m over that. I’ve BEEN over that. I’m not about that life. In fact I’ve never been about it. That’s not my war. That’s not what this blog is about. And if you thought it was I suggest you leave now because it is about to get ugly.

I refused to celebrate Woman’s day this year because I’m a woman every day of my life. I once asked a homosexual acquaintance why gays wore their sexuality so out there. He said “it’s a title we’ve been given, a label. We have to wear it proudly so it loses its power to hurt us.”  What does that mean? I’m not a transgender little boy hidden in a woman’s body, I am a woman. I don’t need to be told I’m a woman. I don’t need to be reminded or taught how to become a woman. I’m a woman that is it. I know where my responsibilities lie. I know what I’m supposed to do. I feel like a woman. Now these myths that women and men are equal screw it. Fuck it. I’m not about that. We have roles. We’re like lock and key. We’re an oiled machine that works well or at least worked well at one point. The truth is if we’re going to be honest as women it’s going to hurt.

I mean let’s put aside the jobs we have. Let’s put aside our egos. Let’s put aside this feminism concept. What do you want? What do you need? Is it protection? Maybe it is safety? Respect is an option. That’s what I want for all women; Respect. I don’t want to sit here and tell you a lie. Half truths like you can do anything a man can do when you put your mind to it. Truth is let’s stop with the super hero stunts. Let’s pack away the capes. You can’t go and be a soldier and be pregnant. That’s why you have options, Birth control, Condoms. I mean you even have abortions as an option. It’s your body. It’s your life. It’s your dreams. You make the choices, you make the decisions. You’re not a man. Truth is unless you’re planning on having a sex change you probably will never be. It’s fine. It really is. You’re a woman. That’s fine as well. Accept it. You’re not going to be equal to a man; neither will you be inferior or superior. You’re one with him, a team. You’re a human before a woman. All you need is respect.

Guest Writer: Lydia Kasese; Decisions

It seems this Guest Writer thing might become a monthly show. August's guest writer is a Miss Lydia Kasese. You should know I like her. Very much. so here you go... (UnEdited)

GUEST WRITER; LYDIA KASESE'S DECISION

Today, I decided I will not get into a relationship until I get my first degree. My friends' reaction to this over lunch was, “can I take note of this so I can remind you next week when you decide to start dating?”, we laughed about it and spoke about all the other things we had said we would not do but ended up doing the following week.

Just to put it out there I am not doing this because I want to focus on my academics and boys will be a major distraction because I am a firm believer in fun. I came to this conclusion because it dawned on me that I am worth so much more than what guys at this university are willing to offer. I'm worth more than sweaty nights gyrating on guys dicks in a club, sneaking into their residents late at night and sneaking out at 5am so their friends wont know that i'm the “hoe” he hooked up with. I am worth so much more than being a side-chick to a “boy” I know wont ever learn to love me right but because I am lonely I will stick with him. And I call them “boys” because men are so scarce nowadays, but its not just the boys, decent girls are even more scarce.

If I come off sounding bitter then you caught me. I'm not bitter from my own experiences, but because I have seen girls degrade themselves to a door mat and let boys wipe their dirty feet all over their hearts. I have seen girls trade their self dignity for the sake of not being lonely. I have seen girls trade their name for the title “bitch” just so they could be popular amongst the guys. Heck my friends have bent over backwards , leaned over side ways and cried and begged for a boy that threw away what they thought was “love”.


In all honesty, I do not know much about love. I thought I was in love once but turns out I wasn't. My best friend told me “you will know you are in love when you are willing to die for someone”. I have never loved anyone to be willing to give my life for them, my family yes, but not anyone else. But that is not the point. The point is, I do not know much about love but I have an idea of what it should be like. I think love should be like stripping off your clothes and standing in front of an audience you do not know knowing they will see your imperfections but knowing that they will love your imperfect bits anyway. Love should feel like those moments after the honey-moon phase when you find out that I snore like a pig but you still love me for that. Love should be you not being able to sleep because you went a whole day without talking to me.

This kind of love is hard to find in a place where everyone comes to shag and have the “time of their lives”. You cant find it in a place where boys are driven by peer pressure into seeing how many girls they can date at one time without being caught. You cant get this in a place where talk of commitment is as rare as virgins. True, there may be exceptions out there. There maybe boys out there that are willing to settle down and want something more than a quick shag, but lets be realistic how many of these guys are there? Five? Fifteen? And how many of these already have girls? Three quarters of them? All of them?  I don't know, I really don't know.

Let us be realistic ladies. We all know that boys dream of coming to varsity not for a degree but for all the “babes” that the Hollywood has painted exist. Boys are coming to varsity to have the time of their lives, get high and get laid. Getting committed to you is probably the last thing on his mind. But then again I do not know much about boys and relationships either so I will leave it at that. But this is my decision and my choice, who knows, I may change my mind about this decision next week, 2 months from now or even right before I get my degree. I really dont know, i'm human and my head has the tendency to deceive me sometimes. Who knows I just may come across a guy who actually wants to settle and “make love” once in a while and not just shag. I may even find a guy who loves spending time with me not because he knows there's sex coming his way but because being with me makes him happy. Until then, this is me riding solo, piloting my own plane and enjoying the view from above.

BIO;

My name is Lydia Kasese. I'm a student at Rhodes University. I dabble in poetry, I love the arts and music. I love reading, writing. I'm open minded about a lot of things and still unsure about a lot more. I'm not sure of who I am yet but i'm absorbing what society and the media has to offer me and picking out what I find fit in creating myself as a woman. Feel free to follow me on twitter @Ms_Lilly_Py or on my email address nykasese@yahoo.com

Still On "Your Fuck A N*gger Tip"?

"Still On Your "Fuck A N*gger Tip"?"

My best friend just asked me this. 

So I find myself in another situation were I'm trying to reason why I'm the single 18 year old that "supposedly" hates men. I don't hate men. I adore them. I'm team gender equality for males too, Team Where is the boy child?, Team cook for your husband. But my best friend has come to the conclusion that I hate men or the male species as I like to call them. She says my face falls into a grimace when any one of our friends mentions a boyfriend or a crush. Followed by the statement, "boys are such idiots".

 I'm what the African-american black community refer to as an "Angry Bitter Black Woman." But i'm just African. We don't have "Angry Bitter Black women". Further more if we do, I'm sorry to say I cannot be counted among them. "Angry Bitter Black Women"usually have something to be angry and bitter about; A baby daddy that wont pay child support, a white woman stealing her man, not being able to find a job. I'm an 18 year old girl, no baby ( hence no baby daddy), no man ( hence no white woman stealing my man), and I'm currently typing this from my 4digit paying part time job ( hence no unemployment). 

So how did I, end up in the "Angry Bitter Black Women"Category? I decided to land here. Or maybe they put me here. I mean if I can be categorized as one I must be giving of all the right vibes right.

• Feminist? CHECK
• Single? CHECK

So of course I must hate men. Wrong! I hate relationships. BINGO! That's why I grimace at the mention of boyfriends and crushes. Is it too much to ask to go through a girl's night or lunch without listening to anyone sulk about what an ass their boyfriend is? really? That is all I'm asking. To not be involved anyone's relationship. To not have to look at BBM ( Black Berry messenger) Display Pictures of people making out( that is disgusting why are you taking pictures while kissing), or endure the tears of a friend after a break up? I don't know what to say when this happens. I don't know how to react when you tell me what a fool he is. Truth told by the second minute into the conversation I've stopped listening and I'm trying to think of what to say to make you feel better. I feel horrible the whole time because I now feel like I am such a bad friend. Then on top of it... You're allowed to call your boyfriend a fool but I'm not. Even when he is a fool. 

Not only do I hate other people's relationships ( except for the occasional "nxawww aren't they cute") I pretty much despise the idea of me being in one. I'm 18 for Pete's sake!!! *insert me singing  Young, Wild and Free _ Snoop Dog ft Wiz Khalifa * I read a tweet the other day, "if by this age you haven't realized your parents were right about a lot of things you A. are not growing up, or B. didn't have very good parents" So I'm happy to say I have very good parents and I'm growing up because * sighs* MY MOM WAS RIGHT ABOUT BOYS. Yes, she was. In fact she is. No not the "boys just want to get into your pants talk"( that's my daddy's thing). My mother's reason for not dating at a young age was one and only one, "Relationships will hold you back from achieving what you want to.". That is it really. That's why I'm single. 

I'm single because I have dreams, ambitions and plans that don't allow for me to have a boyfriend. At least not now. Relationships are about compromise. They're about work, time and effort. Love doesn't build a relationship. I wish it did because I believe in love so much.  Trust doesn't build a relationship. Time and effort does. I don't have the time and effort to spare. My plate is full. I have a full time  (9 to 5) job. That I'm hoping will become part time as I go back to being a full time 3rd year student ( double majoring in politics and administration) this august. I run two of my blogs, ( check out my new poetry/photography blogspot Scribbles). I'm also now Brand Manager for my cousin's DJ group HouseNerds. I'm an Amway consultant. Manage my own poetry career. and For Pete's sake I'm trying to get a novel published.

I don't like to report to anyone. I don't like to discuss my ideas before I go for it. I just go for it. I'm too independent for all that. Even questions "like were are you?""who are you with?" I don't have the energy for the drama. Or for the emotional commitment of a relationship, Sure they're boys I like, boy's i'd take home and show my parents but I know I wont give them 100% . They deserve 100%. Everyone does. But at this point in my life, Tshepo Jamillah Moyo deserves 100% more than anybody else. I'm so filled with myself and my ambition that quite frankly there is not a thing any man out there can offer me that I don't already have. I have so much love filling my heart from my family and friends that a life partner wont change anything. besides, before you can be with or love someone you have to be comfortable with yourself. To define yourself, because otherwise you mesh together and become an ugly mess. So until i have the time and effort to spare.. I am Single and Happy with it.

CHEERS TO BEING SINGLE

I also wanted to include a BBM a male friend of mine sent me on his opinion as to why I'm single it made me smile. :)

Our Guest Writer: THE TRUTH ABOUT HEAVEN AND HELL!!! by Mbi Chengeta

There are an estimated 6 billion people in the world, that’s 6,000,000,000 people! The average life expectancy of a person is estimated to be around 70 years of age. With all the natural disasters, people smoking, the global aids epidemic, terrorism, drug overdoses, liquor related deaths, accidents, murders, war, etc. I’m sure the average life expectancy is much lower. 

Test my statement by visiting a cemetery sometime and you’ll be surprised how many people have died at a much younger age. Nevertheless, let’s suppose that the average person lives to be 70 years old. 6,000,000,000 divided by 70 equals 85,714,285. This means that 85,000,000 people, on average, die every year. If we divide 85,000,000 by 365 days in a year, this means that an average of 232,876 people are dying every day in this world. Are you shocked yet? You'd never think from the censored daily news that so many were dying. 

I’ve never heard anything like this regularly on radio or TV, but it's a fact. Every day in this world, 232,000 people fulfill their appointment with death. Could you imagine reading the front page of a newspaper and seeing something like... “232,000 PEOPLE DEAD!”? It happens every single day my friend! The reason you’ll never see something like this is because it isn’t glamorous. People like to hear about the one person who was shot to death, or the CEO that jumped out of his office window. 

The news media isn’t interested in how many people are dying around the world. There are natural deaths occurring all over the earth every second, 24 hours a day, but we never hear of them. Deaths resulting from crime, war, disaster, sickness, injury, poison, disease and starvation are seldom heard of from other countries. We only hear of the tip of the ice-berg! 

You can’t disagree with the math! 6,000,000,000 people will all be dead in 100 years! (ok, maybe 99.9%). 

How many people live to be 100? NOT MANY! By dividing 70 into 6,000,000,000, we found that 85,000,000 humans will die every year on average (more or less from year to year, but all will be dead in approximately 70 years). We also found that dividing 365 days into 85,000,000 means that an average of 232,000 humans die every day.

Now, let’s say that one in ten people are genuine born-again Believers. We are clearly told in Matthew 7:14 that few people ever make it to heaven!, “Because straight is the gate, and narrow is the way, which leadeth unto life, AND FEW THERE BE THAT FIND IT” (Matthew 7:14; Luke 13:23,24). [quoting a relative stance among religions]. How tragic! How horrible! Honestly, I would be very surprised if more than one out of every hundred people are truly saved and on their way to Heaven!

Consider the billion people in China who know not the Lord Jesus Christ! Consider the countless hundreds of millions of Arabs (Islamic Muslims) who worship Allah and the prophet Mohammed. Consider the billion Catholics around the world that worship Mary and are trying to earn their way into Heaven through the keeping of the Seven-Sacraments and good works. 

''A philosopher is not a great philosopher if He does not question another philosopher......!!!'' 

On and on, religion and more religion! Countless billions of people are trusting in their religion to save them instead of questioning each other to share an undiscovered common salvation. Surely, nine out of ten people in this wicked world are bound for a Godless, eternal hell. So I have no doubts whatsoever that 90% of the people in this world are going to Hell. Why? For one simple reason, there is only one true religion, and to know it is a roll of the dice. See you on the other side!

About the author

Mbi Chengeta is an abstract artist living in Gaborone Botswana. He is best known for his tattoo's at GC Tattoo parlor, Artistic Drawings and contemporary written work.

find him on facebook at "Raven Mbi Chronicles" or suggest to join his facebook group Limited Edition Script where his work can be found.

#NOWREADING; Coconut By Kopano Matlwa

 "Tshepo, have you read Coconut by Kopano Matlwa?",  Lesego said.
"Nope, I haven't read much African literature.", I responded.
 "oh you must read it Tshepo. You'll love it."


 So Lesego brings me Coconut By Kopano Matlwa, I read it and Here we are...I want you to read this book for yourself. so we're not going to discuss story lines. I'm not going to tell you about it. I'm going to discuss how I personally relate to "Coconut". Shall we keep it short and sweet? That's how book reviews should be anyway. This is the first one I have written so here goes....


 If you're an African girl that has not been called a coconut, well then I envy you. But then again you've probably been referred to as a "koko ya Setswana" meaning Tswana Chicken. As an African child I feel we carry so many burdens. An uncorrected political rivalry that no longer even concerns us. We're the casualties. Not the children that died in Soweto Riots of 1976 or the slaves of the 1619s. Cause they knew who they were. I'm not sure I do. How do I draw the boundary between being civilized or educated and being a coconut, brown on the outside, white on the inside?


Coconut is a story about an issue that many young African children today face. How do they relate? How do they go from their posh, English speaking schools and homes to their dusty mother-tongue speaking villages? How do they associate? I'm Tswana. My setswana is bearable but its not something I'm proud of. I cant read or write it. I spent my childhood being told "nare tshepo o bua sekgowa ka dinko", an expression in my home language that means you speak English like a white child. So I relate to Ofilwe, a character in the book. Who faces a difficulty fitting in. Not only in the home village set up, but in the posh school set up as well. Its like you go home and you're not black enough but you go to school and you're not white enough. Its a scary prospect not to be able to find a place of belonging. Its difficult. Because we all want to belong, somewhere, to someone. We want to be reminded that we're not alone. Someone is on our team. Because then we cant blame ourselves for our failure. Its a team thing write?


I don't know. Maybe I'm weird. Maybe. But I've come to accept this is a one woman mission. I'm not completely okay with not fitting in. Sometimes it bothers me. Sometimes I wish I had been good at playing "suna baby"and "batho safe"but I wasn't. I tried. I got laughed at. So I stopped trying. I found a place where I fit in. I found it in fictional characters, poetry and writing. Were I could write and the white kids couldn't correct my accent. I still have one you know. This book is brilliant because it reminded me that I'm not alone. a number of African children are faced with the dilemma of identity crisis.


For a further Book Review and About the Author Click Here.

Guest Writer

hello,
I recently got a Job. :( So I don't seem to be able to find enough time to write something worth your attention. So I thought we would have a little fun with this. We're going to have a competition.
What's the prize? You get to have your blog post up on 1thirdofawoman :)

This is how it's going to work.
 Email me an attachment of your article or writing that you would like to have my audience read.
Please use the subject, Guest Writer. Your email must also include a high resolution head and shoulder shot, as well as a short biography not more than 100 words. Try to include contact details that my audience can use to reach you.

I will be editing your articles if i find it necessary, you will however receive the edited version for your okay. You may write about anything pertaining to African Women, as i do not believe in artistic constraints.
Top 3 articles will be posted. thank you for your participation. :)
COMPETITION DEADLINE IS FRIDAY 29JUNE

Tshepo Jamillah Moyo
jamillahmoyo@yahoo.com

Slut Walks

I picked up on this topic a little too late, perhaps a lot too late. But I however felt the need to inform you guys, or rather discuss the wave of Slut Walks that hit Canada and other countries in the beginning of 2011 (told you I was late). So what are slut walks? I’m absolutely sure that the African media just did not give this enough coverage for all of you to be aware of it.  And I am an African blogger.

The Slut Walks started in Canada. They are a protest against the legal system, as well as society’s concept of what a proper lady should be. They consist of women all over the world taking to the streets dressed as sluts. The protest was triggered when a detective (not even a rapist) defended a rapists saying that some women were dressed as sluts so he was not surprised that they were raped. This wasn’t a private statement. This was public at a press conference.

Let’s start with the concept of the word Slut. It’s a dirty word isn’t it, nasty. I’m certain it tastes bitter in your mouth. The word slut belongs amongst the other derogatory words used to describe a woman. I googled the word slut: a woman who is promiscuous, a person who lacks ability to exercise sexual restraint, a saucy girl (really?), a prostitute, a girl that is provocative in her dressing and behaviour. The list is endless. The saucy one really surprised me though. Personally I’m very conservative. I flinch a bit when I see butt cracks, or cleavages or thighs.  My friends are annoyed by my obsessive need to cover up their bras, or pull up their pants. But I wouldn’t call them sluts. I wouldn’t call any woman dressed provocatively a slut.

For a man to rape a woman, then stand in court and have his lawyer argue that she was dressed as a “slut”, absolutely disgusts me. Really? She wore a short skirt so you raped her? You shoved her in a bush, stripped her naked, and raped her. You didn’t care that she cried and screamed and kicked. You just raped her. You took her gift and made it yours, stole her right to pick when and how. And then you stand there and call her a slut. Such men are pathetic. They really are, but even more pathetic is the “justice” system that allows these men to use that ridiculous excuse.  

I was going to give you facts. I was going to write to inform. This blog post was me telling a story. It was supposed to be me evaluating the effects that the slut walks have on the systems, on women. But I can’t. I’m too emotional a creature for that. I got angry as I did my research I got upset. So I can’t be objective. I would ask you to forgive me but the reason you read my blog is because I’m opinionated and emotional. So I have to call out the men that abuse and rape women. I have to tell you guys that they are not men they are creatures. But they are not the danger to our society. They aren’t. Not even in the tiniest bit. The danger to our society is the men and women who are friends with these creatures. The ones that do nothing; that defends them like that detective in Canada. Or even me.

Me? Yes even I have played a role in women abuse. I have a story to tell you guys. About a boy, I don’t know if I can say names or the whole truth. I want to. I want to post his picture here so I can protect all the girls in Botswana from him. But it would be termed cyber bullying or defamation of character. Anyway, back to my story. I know a boy who hits girls. He hits his girlfriends. I don’t associate with him. I cut all ties with him when I realised how abusive he is. But I did the worst thing after that. I kept quiet. Even when one of my friends started dating him I kept quiet. I thought she would think I was bitter. Like most girls in Botswana would. But that is no excuse I kept quiet and he abused her for 11months, almost a year. I knew nothing about it then of course.

Silence is the death of all women out there. Saying something to my friend wouldn’t have put him in jail but it would have saved her 11months of pain. That is what speaking out is about. His friends know he is abusive. They say nothing, they laugh when he cracks jokes about “disciplining women”. They are cowards when he is pulling her by her hair outside BnB. People like this are what is wrong with our society. People like me, who blog about him without saying his name cause they are scared of petty laws. We are the problem here because we have the power to stop these monsters. Yet we stand on the side lines and say “she was dressed like a slut.” Or “she aggravated him”. Or even worse we say nothing at all. We give them power. We supply the victims.

So I beg you don’t stay silent. Warn your friends. Defend them. Don’t be a coward like me. Because it sucks to hear your friend’s horror stories and know you could have saved them. You can’t help the monsters but you can help the victims, by saying something. So thank you to the women who participated in the slut walks and said something.

In the words of Mam’Ruby of generations, “you could be naked, and no man has the right to touch you”.