Being a consumer in a country where one is spoilt for choice is supposed to be a love affair. Or thats what I thought until I couldn’t find a shoe in my size in about all the shops I went to save for one. Before you make your conclusions, this is not because my size is so on demand and all stores had run out, it is because my size just doesn’t exist for them.

I know you are thinking what size foot I am and going ‘if you are one of those people with ridiculously big feet, then tough luck for you because you are in the minority – God should have had extra pieces and decided it couldn’t hurt to give them to you!”, I am a size 8 and a half. Nothing strange for a woman of my hieght and stature but strange enough not to find the size in stores.

I have complained to friends and most of them only identify with me in sympathy because they are the readily available sizes. But one refered me to a shop that lo and behold had all sizes that feet come in and to top it all they had all fashions one can dream of. I couldn’t wait to lay my hands on two, maybe three gorgeous pairs until i saw the price tag on one of them and I almost fainted. The price was a small fortune and if I was going to get the three pairs then I would be paying a kings ransom (well, maybe not exactly but you do get my drift, right?). So back to square one, damn.

God must have seen my depression when I quickly dropped those pairs of shoes like hot coals before an unwanted sales assistant comes to my side and makes me feel guilty about going into the shop and not buying, because just across the road from the shoe store was a department store which has good quality stuff. I walked to the shoe isle and found lovely and comfortable shoes and they came in a size 9 which was imensely exciting. But alas, my heart beat too soon! Size 9 is a tad too big just like size 8 is a tad too small. Which leaves me with one option, I must be a size 8 and a half.

Agony is when your are a size 8 and a half and no store that is affordable stocks that size. What happened to half sizes and comfortable fits? Once again I am wondering away in wonderland if I am the only one that loves to complain or others have just learnt to ‘make do’…

Not sure if it is only me and three of my friends that think that as black women who want to look beautiful, we are really duped and never spoilt for choice. When I go in the supermarkets the products for black people are alway hidden at the bottom shelf and if I don’t bend over and really look, all I see are products with smiling white women that are obviously not for my kind.

Now the supermarket is only one of them, when you go to specialised beauty stores you find 10 shades of foundation for white people and only three kinds for black people almost like saying we all look the same! I would say white people look the same coulour and I can count the shades they come in on three fingers but get onto us blacks theres all shades of brown, coffee, cappucino, cafe au lait and no black (thank God no black foundation exists!). I am some shade of dark brown and I struggle to find a foundation that suits me, its either too dark or too light but nothing that is my kind of shade.

Winter has come and I go looking for tights and I can’t find a proper colour that is not a) too shiny b) is some hideous greyish colour that borders on ashy; and c) never ever blends with my colour. I look at the white collection and theres plenty and to add salt to injury, a white woman walks by wearing tights that make her legs look so good you want to touch them! Why can’t I find something like that too?? Am I looking in the wrong place…do I have to scrounge through 50 department and specialised stores to finally find what I am looking for? Am I not market enough for them to produce something that will suit me perfectly and advertise it as such? So I settle for the pitch black or navy and try to console myself that it is winter and so dark colours are fine…but all I really want is what suits me, you know like something my colour!!

Anyway enough of my ranting, all this negative energy is not helping me. My next stop is the clinic where I need to have the stitches on my hand removed. As the nurse removes the band-aid from my cut, I notice that it too is a colour that is closer to the white peoples tone. Actually, all band-aids come in the same colour of either ‘nude’ which is a pinkish whitish colour or stark white. All these blend well with white people but on my black hand they are as visible as a beacon and really look ridiculous. Am I thinking a tad too much about this whole black consumerism, me thinks not. My experiences say not.

At least clothes don’t have that label save for the label of size zero which many of my kind can only hope to squeeze their ample hips in. So with this in mind I go looking for some retail therapy to rid me of all the above negative energy. I go to a lingerie shop and marvel at the lacy thingys in their luxurious makes. I look at a bra I really like and when I read the detail on the label, it says the colour is nude and it is exactly the colour of a naked white person, well maybe not exactly but close to and nowhere near my kind. So what is our colour when we are nude if nude refers to a nude white person?

I promise not to try and get anything else that day, lest it is not meant for my kind and depresses me more. As if to provoke me, I see a black woman with her black daughter and she is clutching a white barbie or some other such kind of doll and there goes my thoughts…even dolls are white! Come to think of it, I have never seen a black doll in a store.

In my depressed mood, I go home and settle to watch TV, maybe that will help ease my bad mood, Theres Oprah on TV and at least here is something black that is really good and makes me proud. It is a documentary on the last days of Martin Luther King with excerpts of his famous speech, “I have a dream…”

Martin Luther King’s dream was to see an America where everyone was equal before the law, an America where people were not judged by the colour of their skin but rather by the content of their character. Today he is not there to live his dream but the people of America and the world are living it and in the political arena, it can never get any better than a black (well maybe coloured) man in the white house as the most powerful politician in the world.

But me and my sisters have a long way to go as far as realising our beauty dreams goes, in getting band-aids or plasters that blend in with our colour, find hair colour that is for our kind of hair, find a bra that says ‘nude’ and is closer to our nude colour, see products with black people advertising them and they are not at the bottom shelf. I dream of the day when as a black professional I will be spoiled for choice between top and bottom end products made for my kind.

Don’t know about other people in other regions of the world, but living in South Africa, I am confronted by these issues everyday and it reminds me that our Rite of Passage to become recognised consumers with products that depict us as such, is still a work in progress.

One last thought, why are we refered to as black when we are closer to brown than black? Just wondering away in wonderland…

I got this from a friend and decided it makes life easier for me in understanding why and how we are in this financial mess.

Forget all that investment banking jargon; this is plain explanation of the credit crunch. This is a clear explanation in a layman’s terms.

Linda is the proprietor of a bar. In order to increase sales, she decides to allow her loyal customers – most of whom are unemployed alcoholics – to drink now but pay later. She keeps track of the drinks consumed on a ledger (thereby granting the customers loans).

Word gets around and as a result increasing numbers of customers flood into Linda’s bar. Taking advantage of her customers’ freedom from immediate payment constraints, Linda increases her prices for wine and beer, the most-consumed beverages. Her sales volume increases massively.

A young and dynamic customer service consultant at the local bank recognizes these customer debts as valuable future assets and increases Linda’s borrowing limit. He sees no reason for undue concern since he has the debts of the alcoholics as collateral.

At the bank’s corporate headquarters, expert bankers transform these customer assets into DRINKBONDS, ALKBONDS and PUKEBONDS. These securities are then traded on markets worldwide. No one really understands what these abbreviations mean and how the securities are guaranteed. Nevertheless, as their prices continuously climb, the securities become top-selling items. One day, although the prices are still climbing, a risk manager (subsequently of course fired due to his negativity) of the bank decides that slowly the time has come to demand payment of the debts incurred by the drinkers at Linda’s bar. However they cannot pay back the debts.

Linda cannot fulfill her loan obligations and claims bankruptcy.

DRINKBOND and ALKBOND drop in price by 95 %. PUKEBOND performs better, stabilizing in price after dropping by 80 %.

The suppliers of Linda’s bar, having granted her generous payment due dates and having invested in the securities are faced with a new situation. Her wine supplier claims bankruptcy, her beer supplier is taken over by a competitor. The bank is saved by the Government following dramatic round-the-clock consultation by leaders from the governing political parties (and vested interests).

The funds required for this purpose are obtained by a tax levied on the non-drinkers.

Finally an explanation I understand…

In comemoration of International Women’s day…

I am a woman and I am proud

I am a wife and a mother

At the core of my bieng is to care and nuture those around me

They are not people I know but my instincts say I must

And I do

I suffer at the hands of men who see me as a sex object;

Others believe I am the weaker species;

Yet another takes me as a punching bag and in their hands I suffer;

I, very often, become “the grass that suffers” when men wage war against each other

I work in the fields to bring food to the home

I walk long distance to seek medical health

I prepare my home so that it is always welcoming

I nurture and love my children so they can be better people when adults

I  hurt most and cry most when death strikes my loved ones

I multi-task.

A time has come when I look at myself closely,

Not at my circumstances,

Not at what I did or didn’t do;

Not at how unfair life has been;

I look at myself in all my glory and imperfection

The harsh sun on my back in the fields;

The long walk to make a better life for my family

I have known pain and pleasure;

I have known good and evil;

I have known hate and love;

In glory and pride I say, ” I am a carrier of life and not a channel of death”

But most of all I am a human being

I have my fears and my doubts, but also desires

I crave love and affection.

I look back in sorrow

I look around in worry

But with faith, I look up and say “I have survived!”

What did not kill me has made me stronger.

I am an African woman.

It came as an interesting term when one day when my brother and I were talking about the political situation in Zambia and he ‘matter of factly’ stated that ‘at the moment the country is in autopilot, we have a leader who is only there in name and not in practice’. While I do not disagree with him my interest was mainly in the term ‘Autopilot’ because my immediate thought is that this kind of despcription is reserved for mechanical obejcts such as cars or aeroplanes.

According to the wikipedia ‘autopilot is a mechanical, electrical, or hydraulic system used to guide a vehicle without assistance from a human being.’ If this meaning is to be translated in terms of a nation then it means that the country has been left to run it’s course with no direction from it’s leaders. That being the case, it is a wonder that elections are held at all.

Having visited my beloved country just under two months ago, I fully concur with this description. The state of social services in the country leaves a lot to be desired. Not that it was much better when i left but things had started to improve during the tutelage of Levy Mwanawasa and since his death, it has almost been a down-hill tumble of things moving rapidly from bad to worse. I have had the priviledge of living just down south in South Africa where social services may not be the best in the world but is worlds apart from those that our country can even boast of.

We took a road trip from Cape Town to Lusaka and on the N1 to Joburg, you get signs warning of portholes ahead. We drove for a distance, slowing down in anticipation of the portholes which never materialsed. It soon dawned that the portholes simply did not materialse because our definition of portholes and the South African one is also worlds apart. While we expected to find large holes defacing the smooth road, what we actually found were patches of slightly uneven road.

With this experience, we got to Zambia and found that: a) there were no signs to warn of portholes so you just ran into them and had to be very skilled to avoid bumping the car up and down in a similar manner a horse would jump over a pole; b) the portholes were so large and covered most of the road, the smooth tar of the road is practically non-existent. We also found, to our amazement, that the Livingstone – Lusaka road was still under construction. This was particularly amazing because the road has been under construction for the past 10 years.

A road washed away by the rains in Zambia

Still brimming with excitement at getting to Lusaka, we were not dampened by this revelation. We  got to Lusaka at night and the drive through was smooth and quick, having all main roads in the city tarred and in an acceptable state. However, this was shortlived. In the morning we decide to hit the road early to go and have a go at applying for the newly introduced passports (old ones are being phased out). A distance that would take five minutes drive took an hour. The road is congested and the government attributes this to the high volume of Japanese second hand cars that enter the country everyday, including public holidays. Somehow it does not seem to occur to them that the road network and not the cars is the problem. I found this amusing, I was still just happy to be home, congestion or otherwise.

We finally get to the passport office and it is like a market-place full of people vying for one commodity that is in serious short supply. Just to get to the counter that sells application forms was such a mission, I gave up after an hour. I hate bribery and while the thought came to mind, I dismissed it with the contempt it deserves.

Our next official stop was the Ministry of Lands to enquire on the status of our deed application having bought a property five years ago. With due credit the Ministry seemed to have improved, what with a customer service centre! I was impressed. Seems not all is bad, there is a silver lining afterall. But alas, I spoke too soon and got impressed to quickly. Our application has been at the same level that it was five years ago, only difference being that it was faster to locate the file than it had been then. Reason for the stagnant application – we needed to prove that the first owner of the property was indeed the seller. While this is an easy thing to do in the national press, the fact that they waited five years to tell us this put huge question marks in my head about the credibility and legitimacy of the Ministry and all it’s staff.

So when my brother and I were discussing politics and he mentioned the ‘Autopilot’ state of the country, I couldn’t agree less with him. It is sad that Rupiah Banda, the current president, is already showing signs of failing dismally compared to the former, Mwanawasa. but what is even more sadder is the people that will have to bear the brunt of not having a direction in making things better for them especially that the wishes of the majority during elections pointed to the opposition rather than the ruling party. But as is the trend in Zambian politics since Kaunda’s fall, the ruling party always wins even if they get 20% of the total vote cast!

I think that if the country was a huge machine, it would have fared very well without interferance from human beings the likes of our leaders who do not know how to operate it or even have the interest of doing so except for their own selfish motives. Unfortunately, we are a nation of people who have hopes and desires and want to see a better tommorrow for all and right now this is really bleak.

When i started this blog, my intention was to update it as regularly as possible in light of the many other reponsibilities that I hold. So far, I have not kept up to my resolution of maintaining an online journal, but i have not given up on the thought either – hence this post.

Last year was an interesting year, so many things happened, unlikely candidates became presidents and the world plunged into a recession not seen in decades. While Obama may have been the darling of everyone, Mugabe on the other hand remained the exact opposite.

Last year, i took the challenge and pushed my adventurous streak a bit further than normal. Hubby and i embarked on a drive from Cape Town to Lusaka and we almost reached kitwe but fuel prices in Zambia were not favourable. This is the longest journey I have ever undertaken and it is many times more than anything i would call long. It was an interesting journey, full of adventure and expreinces – some that will forever remain in my heart.

The vist back home was refreshing but in pursuit of happiness, we had to come back albeit on a sad note – Cape Town maybe better but Lusaka is certainly the best.

In the past year, I changed jobs twice and for the first believed that aquarians do not take to a boring life. I moved on to a whole new field, nothing like I have done before and i think this was a sign that i needed to challenge myself further.

This year has come and i still hold the promise that I will update my blog as often as possible but also that i will test myself to the limit and not give up. I started the year on an infectious high, believing that only sucess and nothing else can come out of this year. maybe this will also be the year that we see a lot positives in the poltitical spheres, begining with Obama and probably seeing some change in Zimbabwe. The time for that change has come and it can only happen this year, me thinks.

This year is also the year that I plan to laugh more and cry less, make peace with what I can’t change and work towards that which i can change. At the risk of sounding cliche, I want to be the change i want to see in the world.

Last year was a journey that was not without hurdles and this year may not be much different but the difference is that this year i approach it with a positive attitude, an infectious attitude that says ‘Yes I can’.

Sometime at the end of this year or the begining of next year i will be writing a similar post and i hope the post will be characterised by the energy and optimism that has began this year. It is a new year for me for I have just had my birthday and the age i have become is a milestone age.

I still have longings for thiings which seem to forever be out of reach…I pray that this year my longing and reach will not be in vain.

Before I start a blog posting, I always think of a way to start that is representative of my thoughts but this time is not one of them. I’m fed up and angry at politicians in some African countries and if this thought doesn’t come across right, just goes to show how fed up I am.

Zimbabwe seems to be going no-where slowly with Robert Mugabe sticking to power like his life depended on it (maybe it does but millions of Zimababweans lives might just depend on him leaving and surely we are better off losing one old man than millions in their prime!). Just across the border in Zambia the clearly unpopular president won an election which I will always question the credibility of, and in his first week in office proposes to pardon the former president Frederick Chiluba who was convicted by a London court for abuse of office and gross corruption among others and who the late Levy Mwanawasa had put into ‘confinement’ for seven years for his corrupt practices while he held office.

On the northern side of Zambia, DR Congo’s eastern inhabitants are facing a new wave of fighting, rapes and deaths for crimes they did not commit. Disease such as cholera is also rife here because of the fighting.

Just under a year ago, Kenya saw violent uprising in a widely contested presidential election result which after several weeks of fighting resulted in a Government of National Unity (GNU).

In Sudan, it has become part of daily life to see fighting by the civilians in the war prone regions. This is but some of the countries in Africa with serious political issues to which everyone seems to be turning a blind eye. Well, I suppose in our African culture, it is considered rude to interfere in matters of your neighbors house and that being the case then I forgive our neighbors in various countries for turning a blind eye. But it is also considered weak and un-worthy to allow rubbish to be continously thrown at you. I think it is time we stood up and stopped taking rubbish, put it where it belongs in the bin and demand what is entitled to us, like a president that we choose and not one that is imposed on us!

Without  supporting violence and incting it, I think the violence that happened in kenya was called for and was a wake up call for the politicians and it did finally end in a power sharing deal which everyone was happy with. Increasingly, it seems to me that our leaders take us for granted and it is only when we launch into violent attacks, will they respect that we have freedom of choice and they are accountable to us.

I’m also seeing a disturbing trend in forcing GNUs for those in conflict, the way I see it, doing so only gives the leaders that are not wanted leeway to force themselves on the masses. Here is a scenario: leaders will hold to power for as long as possible (possibly until death); employ election malpractice; oppsition will contest the result and the international community will call for GNU in the name of peace; no one thinks of what the people want; life goes on until the volcano erupts and destroys the little that has been built when the bigwigs are seeking votes.

I’m keeping a close watch for the Uganda situation because I can see the trend extending there and might just be the next example.

I am really, truly sick and tired of selfish politicians.

Chicas at the FTX

Today is the second day of the Feminist Tech Exchange (FTX) and I didn’t talk about it before because there was nothing to say, at least not enough to write home about. The little I had I posted on the FTX blog.

The FTX is a space for feminists (both women and men) to share experiences and knowledge in the use of technology for social justice. The space has different tracks and I’m attending the track that explores social networking tools for social justice.

So far it has been an interesting two days but it has also served to re-inforce my belief that there is too much information available on the internet and rather than being helpful is half the time confusing. However I have picked up a few things that I will use to make my blog look better and have much more visibility.

My other persistent thought has been re-inforced, the internet has a lot of things and if you look at everything, you will get confused so its about choosing what is relevant to your needs.

I will be posting more posts on technology and feminism, be on the look out!

Your chica…

Like everyone I am over the moon about Barack Obama’s victory to become the 44th president of the United States. But my happiness has not overshadowed the many problems I have which if i stopped addressing because I’m celebrating the US presidents victory would mean disaster for me while it means success for him.

Anyway, to show my support, my facebook profile picture is boasting of me in an Obama t-shirt. My friends have obviously seen this and as skeptical as some are, they are asking me if I really think him becoming president of the US will mean any meaningful change.

Dears, you are too many for me to respond to you individually so here you are: YES, Obama has already brought change and that change is in the unprecedented move of a nigger living in the White house as president of one of the most powerful nations in the world. Does this mean good for us? YES it does because it shows strides in as far as the respect of human beings is concerned, regardless of their skin color. It also shows that change can happen when we believe in it and take steps to make it happen. One Martin Luther King had a dream and we are privileged to be witnessing that dream coming into fruition.

Does this mean change for the better for Africa? This I really don’t know, his foreign policy maybe good and beneficial to Africans but ultimately we are responsible for our development as sovereign states.

One thing for sure, he is an inspiration to forge ahead and believe that we can be what we want to be, black, white yellow or blue. And for these reasons I am proud to lend my support.

For now take care and give me a shout if theres anything else you need to know. Happy Baranovember month!

Yes you read right, Yoga is amazing! I can’t believe I was missing out on something so powerfully enriching all my life, I mean I can’t believe how ignorant I was until a few days ago. I’m sure you are dying to hear how it went, right? Ok here we go!

Up until the ‘Yoga’ day I have been trying to find ways to get out of attending this particular session and I would have been successful had I not gotten so busy with work that I forgot to devise a convincing plan that would ensure that I didn’t land into the clutches of Yoga. One of my last attempts was to come in a Yoga unfriendly attire, but that didn’t work.

Hey, you know how things you don’t want have a way of always crossing your path, right? So anyway, my usually quick mind could not come up with a convincing plan and the un-desirable crossed my path with no way of me avoiding it. Actually it didn’t just cross my path, it jumped in front of me in an immovable stance!

Like I explained in my previous post, this session was an all expenses paid opportunity to experience the ancient art of Yoga which is supposed to help us in times of high stress during the huge International Forum that our organisation is holding next month.

So with the idea that this is only work and nothing to be enjoyed, just like work is never enjoyed, I walked into the temporary room set up for the session. Rectangular and colorful Yoga mats are neatly laid out with one side rolled. To be honest, my eyes and mind have been shut to anything that resembles Yoga, I didn’t know what to expect.

The instructor has put his mat in front of us and is facing us. He tells us to sit crossed-legged on the mat. I sit on the laid out bit of the mat and he gently tells me to put my bum on the rolled side so my legs rest on the laid part. ‘Damn’, I think to myself, ‘The first move I make is the wrong one, Will I be able to get through this, let alone learn anything?’ Anyway, my thoughts are interrupted by the instructor and he gives a brief on what Yoga is and what he will do with us in order to help us manage stress. He mentions that he is going to teach us some breathing exercises and i think, there we go again with the breathing!

The first lesson is pretty simple as it involves breathing in and out but holding and exhaling for longer periods that normal with eyes closed. It feels ok and is really simple but the crossed-leg sitting is getting uncomfortable. None of my colleagues seem to be feeling it so I stick it out in the hope that I will get so engrossed in the breathing, I wont feel the uncomfortable stance.

The next lesson totally confuses me and I fail to get it right. It involves breathing and and out and at the same time touching your fingers in a certain sequence or pattern. As if speaking to me, the instructor says to keep trying until ‘you get it right’ and i think ‘yeah, right…easier said than done, if anything this must be even more stressful than the anticipated stress during the Forum!’. Nevertheless, I continue trying and by now the concentration is so much on the pattern and harmony of my fingers and breathing that I don’t feel the uncomfortable position I’m sitting in. Finally I get it right and do it a couple more times before it begins to feel like second nature…you know like breathing! and just when I’m getting the hang of it there is an instruction to stop.

I feel light headed but also very relaxed and calm. It’s a nice feeling and now I begin to understand how the exercises can help me manage stress.

We do a couple more concentration exercises which seem impossible at first but I eventually get them. I’m enjoying myself so much, I don’t want it to end. I forget all the misgivings I had earlier…man I’m having so much fun. The last exercise is really relaxing and is what does it for me…it has some link to the many books I have read on the power of positive thinking. Bingo, now the instructor is talking about something I know and have been desperately trying to practice. Unfortunately, our time is up (at least what was paid for) and the session ends.

But I’m so excited the instructor notices and invites me to join his Yoga studio where they offer a range of Yoga disciplines. I agree immediately and I feel this is the best decision I have made at least this week. Can’t wait to get home and tell hubby about it.

Except in all my excitement, one thought comes to mind, don’t those ‘Power of positive’ thinking books talk about negative attracting negative and positive attracting positive? So how come I have attracted a positive experience even though my thoughts were completely negative?

Well, I’m too relaxed to give this much thought, I guess its a conversation for another day. And like we don’t question the good that happens to us, but always question the bad…a natural progression from one state of mind is happening for me and I can’t be bothered with what’s not hurting me! Ignorance, sometimes, is indeed bliss!