How We Ink Our Reality!

 

It's a matter of choice to ink the reality we see negatively or positively. However, if you pick to see it negatively be prepared for the consequences that might follow as discouragement might become part of your experience. In the past few months I have been observing  the effect of each train of thought I decide to embrace. Often I have found myself at the receiving end of each thought process like finding courage to soldier on when things seem hazy or completely feel like I have to stop. Which made me see that the principle in Proverbs 23:7 to be true, "As a man thinkth in his heart, so is he..."

This lead to one thing, we have to be careful of the perception we chooses to embrace for they all carry different penalties. Whether we choose to see things in a positive light which will pull you to have stregthen to go on when things are tough or the latter which result in you giving up even when you are at the doorstep of success. So, I would encourage to be able to stand guard of the choose you make and try to see everything from a positive percerption as it will help you to carry on.

Beyond the Cry: The Wars We Wage in Silence

 "Beyond words, we birth stories in innocence

Drumming at the door of life

At the loud bang of an infant cry

Alive, we bleed our DNA to another generation

Fueled to be greater than us

Natured to be tomorrow's shining stars.

Beyond our thoughts, we give life to bravery

Seeing first steps speaking volumes to persistence

Unmasking dreams to be lived into adulthood

Provided we play our role today

For tomorrow history will be on us

When we quench the thirst that had been with us in rearing."

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    There are battles we fight for our kids that are never seen by the world even by the kids themselves as they see it as part of their right. Some of this wars leave parents drained and lost in thoughts as families are sometimes the root cause of those problems. These problems can be birthed by greed and envy of the progress of those parents.  In the my most recent experence made to appreciate even more the role parents play in their kids life. This because  the wars that they fight for the kids on knees scrubbing the floor is unaccountable.

    Being a parent does not mean just giving birth to someone but goes beyond that, which means being there for the children. At the same time it calls for you to sacrifice your sleep and time to ensure that you nature your children to grow well encouraged and inspired. The lack of thereof leads to most problems the society is now facing because if a kid lacks the guidance of their parents they tend make poor desicions. This put emphasis on the parent to play an active role in the upbring of a child as money will not teach your kids to morally strong.

    Here in Africa in most countries the role of the parent have been lacking as we become more advocates of financial security over being really there. Most kids lack the touch of their parents as it is considered to be secondary which is a false narrative. This can be traced to what the media is pushing making us part of the experiment that breaks tomorrows generation spirit in our actions. In Zimbabwe most families have become child headed as parents are seeking greener pastures to provide for their kids back home and some arre raised by maids. This raise a problem for tomorrow as those kids grow up not knowing the role parents play in the upbring of children.

Walking Without a Net

    Answering "How's life?" can feel as challenging as "adulting" itself. Nothing truly prepares you for the sudden storms that come with being an adult. Ironically, I couldn't wait to grow up, unaware of the daily price we pay – the weight of responsibility where everything depends on your actions. Advice that once seemed meaningless transforms into essential wisdom, its value only revealed through lived necessity.

    Now, we stand at the window of reality. Comforting illusions fade, revealing life as it truly is. This unmasking can feel strange and overwhelming, draining the courage we once had to pursue what matters. It's a challenging initiation, one we might wish to forget, yet crucial to remember as the sheltered world of our upbringing shatters against life's harshness. Though it may seem bleak, adulthood is not without its rewards.

    Great decisions can elevate us to new heights. Reaching these heights, however, demands sacrifice and a willingness to learn from our own failures. This is often the hardest part: embracing vulnerability to unlock our potential. Many of us falter here, paralyzed by fear of failure, and settle for a mediocre life because it feels safe. Yet this safety yields little of true value or lasting fulfillment.

    So, how do we make great decisions? The answer is surprisingly simple: learn from others. Absorb their failures as part of your learning curve. Combine this borrowed wisdom with your own reality to make better choices. Yet, learning solely from others isn't enough. We also need to make our own mistakes. These personal stumbles refine available knowledge and drive genuine growth – much like an infant learning to walk. Each fall teaches balance and resilience, shaping us for better actions ahead.

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"When the end is near

Saddling on reality

We settle for an illusion

Pleading for serenity to tangle with us.

Held by the hand of fantasy

We shed off courage

Stuck on questions we never knew

But now, a constant play on our platter.

Fumbling through life's corridors

We gamble our future on split decision

Rolling a dice for an answer

Yet! When the dice stop, we plead for a reroll."

Dollars Over Daughters: The Corruption of Lobola

    What happens when culture begins to feel like a societal curse? Do we still embrace it despite its negative implication or we flee away from it, so as to safeguard one's sanity. In recent years, African culture has been becoming more toxic as it lost the respect for a girl child. This has been in the case of lobola where the bride's family has been seeing the girl child as a get out of poverty free card. Leading to notion of culture becoming more toxic than it used to be. As when the groom's family comes to negotiate on the lobola issue, the bride's family begins to see dollars.

    Strangely this has become the norm of people asking for bridal prices that defile the lobola tradition of joining families into a modern day slavery trade. As is if that is not sufficient the level at which the girl child is educated is now part of the bargaining chip. This ordeal has reduced a girl child to a family transaction that archor the family out of poverty into prosperity. Leaving amillion dollar question behind, "What will you daughter eat/ where will they start life from when you the parents have taken everything. 

    Some of the reason why you will find the grooms family abusing the bride will be because of the bridal price, where they endup feeling entitled. This is a scary phenominal as it reduce the girl child into a slave of atradition that they have no power over it. In some instance the girl will lose the one they love because the family will peg their bridal price so high that the groom family simply walk away from the negotiating table. In turn the girl is the one who is left to pay the price of the family conduct, which sometimes leads to the girl eloping to her lover. 

    To wind the nuts to this article, we aught to reflect back on culture and really retrace the purpose for lobola. By doing so we will be able to unite families together with that token and not making it a scheme to get out of poverty, For at the end of the day it is your daughter who gets affected by that act and also the society might also be rob of the talent they were to see. This will be because when the lady is once married, the man will tell her not to work because he will be seeing her as his property and not life partner. If only we could redress this culture to become meaning full and not shameful as it stands currently

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"There is a story best forgotten but not entirely

A story birthed in greedy yet deemed noble

A story that has an origination in family ties

Now abused in one's enrichment.

There is a story that was once for culture

Now a game for vultures

As it's pen got dipped in counterculture

Birthing anew the story perfect tale in subculture.

Tarnished to applauding hands

That once stood as a sign of mutual respect

Now a ghost town of envy at day dawn

Masked in fake smiles plotted revenge.

As this story was for family esteeming

Given a tradition by those of the old

One's craftsmanship as the exchange of token

Now buried in greedy tendency of enrichment lost to culture."

Torn in Black

    We barely see clearly the cost we have to pay due to global warming, though in recent times the impact has been getting stronger and stronger. Yet we keep justifying our lose as gain to the economy while our grounds become arid lands and our crops wilt. Thrown in a climate conundrum birthed in legacy of other nations, Africa has been paying the price of their actions with rapidly shifting weather patterns making it difficult to plan for farming. Africa is increasingly becoming a basket case as long dry spell a becoming normal occurrence.

    Given this regard and having the knowledge of how most African economies a subsidies by agriculture produce to boost their Gross Domestic Product (GDP). There is need for us to be vocal on the need for the world to change their ways of production and encourage practice that reduce ozone layer depliction. These practices might be to change how we view nature and the importance of it in the balancing of the ecology. Because in recent times where I leave people are chopping down trees replacing them with slubs.

    With our desire to belong we have helped to accelerate the problem further as some of us chop trees in the name of them littering their yards. While others do so to find source of fuel to power their stoves, to which in some case is justified. However by doing so, we have destroyed rainforests that used to help maintain moisture and the ground.

"At harsh reality kiss

We swing in tears of motherland

Drafted into a war far from our deeds

& yet close to our hearts and foot

Axing our tree with scars.

Bidding our silence in shame

We shed tears without the desire to stand up

Out of voice due to our fear

We pledge to play a part in the war

Though ignorant to the role.

Rolled under with greed

We join the train to declare war

Motherland as the price to pay

We endorse the vultures to our tears

Straight into chiming black."

Beyond the Scent on the Sheets

    Once upon a time love used to be a true storyteller of emotions and feelings. For the phrase "I love you!" would not simply slip-out of someone's mouth without carrying any weight.  This was before we decided to cosmetically redress the phrase into meaning something totally different.  In those days,  love meant the honest people's heart which they used to express pure intention with actions.  Nowadays, those actions mean sliding under someone's skin for the purpose of pleasure while taking part of them for fun.

    This has become the gospel deemed normal and when one preserve themselves for marriage is now regarded as a shameful act. Growing up a woman was celebrate for keeping her self for marriage and this used to bring pride to the brides family. However, due to globalization we have discarded that celebration as old fashioned. As we now embrace a push that does not encourage families but celebrate individualism. Which is strange as individualism does not yield any progress in whatever sense we may want to take it.

    There is a shona proverb that say "Rume rimwe harikombe churu." which means that a single man cannot dig up an anthill alone. With this brings me to the next point, we need to restore love to what it was and what it meant. This is because if we do so, we will not define making love as love and would not allow our eyes to teach us the wrong definition of love. That is, our current definition of love has been defined by the media which now celebrate something wrong as right. To add to the fire social media has also added some seasoning to this pandemic, as love is now defined in seconds with really intention masked.

    With the seconds rule in play, we now have a lot divorces due to the actions of things we have experienced prior. Because we have given our body as an act of love too many people, when we get married we cannot remain there because we will not be satisfied with what we got. Hence many issues may emerge to break families of which does not just affect the couple but trickle down to the offsprings of that couple. Birthing a generation that is growing in broken homes due to our own foolishness and desire for short pleasure.

    In short, we need to restore the meaning of love and abandon the new notion about love. Thereby we can help build strong relationships and family bonds that are true.

Rhythm Scripts

    Hey there! Welcome to my Friday discourse of reality pages snapping, kicking off some shoes in search of a perfect groove to wind the week. If anyone would have told me the week will just vanish before my eyes, I would have told them that they kidding. But here I am, in celebration of the little I have managed to win and looking forward for the weekend chilled vibes. Drawn to the beat that define my existence in this cradle of creation continent dawn-dusk relationship. Scripting the perfect vibe for Saturday celebration.

    Sober to the art of words, pulled asunder into reflection zone of grooving beats, to the global celebration of the beuatiful art sculpted form the motherland. A term we have oftenly heard from those who have grown outside the continent, as for some of us it is just home. Our pride is found in the songs we sing  to allow others to understand who we are. That said, the music we find ourselves singing shape who we are and the weekends are a perfect construct to our character. Not down playing other factors, we are a construct of all those but music swiftly does the most right before our eyes but without a clue.

    Drawn to justifying ourselves we usually deny the influence of the rythm in our ears because we claim its harmless effect to our soul. Yet we act out those lyrics everyday playing the dump card to trump the reality we give birth to. Scoring on culture, we blame everything else before we even point out the major danger of our ears engulfing toxix vibes and depression on beat. Beatup to the soul, we keep singing hoping those who listen to us won't pick it up and point it out. While the pureness of the groove the ancients used drum the earth to have been morphed to parade a society over sexualized.

    Women values eroded at the behest of men eyes and what we perceive to be our right. Mostly done through our ears, we have become societal monsters in the making. Celebrating ills as gains to freedom, yet wearing more shackles in dark alleys.

    Winding down the tempo, lets stand guard of what we choose our ears to entertain for the price is greater than we imagine. Let us embrace edifying sounds to reasonate in the hallways of our mind brought through the ear.

Keyboard Smelting

    It's crazy how the keyboard of our imagination has been grafted into a prompt that end up trying to generate our feelings. Lost of words that feel strange yet easy to put on paper, we have become lazy to express our history in the ink that stains our finger tips. The golden era of authentic discourse has disappeared as we let a defined logic do our part in writing what we are experiencing. In that regard, we have embraced a distant truth that helped understand the past in the stories that were written by legends of the past.

    Take a look at Charles Dickens work in "Hard Times" we got to learn of the Victorian Era without being forced to study history. Even the works of Shakespeares we got to understand the discourse of the past  hidden openly between the lines of entertainment, with a promise of learning from the past. This problem have transcended into business practise, where the computer now decide for us on what works on us. Thereby making us slaves to clicks and logarithm, which has become our flute blower to sounding strange. Even the culture of hard work has been replaced with play with the computer and it will come up with perfect slogan.

    Don't get me wrong here, AI is a beauty piece of hardware we can integrate to our daily routines. However, the over realiant on it is killing us slowly as we become less and less innovative. We have become addicts to soft life which in reality is a ghost that we keep seeing upon the mirror reflection. though we chose not to believe in its existence we trod the ground in the hope that with work becoming soft we have ample time to learn new things. But the real question is are we learning anything new or we lazying around the keys to dish us answers we need.

    Not spared to this problem, Africa has also been affected by the over reliant on the computer to generate our history in words using the data that is available online. Which leaves the biggest question of all times; "Who is responsible for the machine learning and what are the parameters guarding it in its arguement?" This make us to lose the plot of storytelling of our stories in a convinencing way as we have began to sound the same. If AI could used to give an outline to line of thoughts it will be better. Instead of allowing it to be our train of thoughts, driving our imagation with a few prompt words to become our words.

    In conclusion, we need to learn to use AI to help refine what we create sparingly while allowing our true intention to be kept within the words. And not to bury our true intention behind an assumed perferct storyteller that rob us of getting to know you on personal level. Also to point, AI isn't as perfect as we imagine too. It still require to be sharpened and have it trained on African logic too instead of the East and Weastearn logic only.