Life lessons

When I started this blog, my hope was to make an entry every week. But, alas I got side tracked by the happenings of life. But, my hope is that the intervals or time lag between my posts will improve. So here goes:

1. My friend Rose

This past weekend, something happened that made me pause and think about what is really important. On Sunday morning my friend's husband called me to let me know that her brother had passed away. Like a good friends I dropped everything and rushed to her be by her side. When we got there I found my friend "Rose" alone in her room crying her eyes out. The sight of seeing my friend sitting on the floor under her duvet broke my heart. Not only had she lost her brother unexpectedly, she had to mourn with her family over the phone. She was unable to monitor how her mother was coping with having to bury her fourth child. It was at that point I realized how helpless one can feel when living abroad. Though Rose had her new make shift family (i.e. her diaspora friends) around to support her by just saying, "Sorry hako Rose, Sorry hako shamwari yangu" (I am sorry my Rose) it was definitely would not be the same as being around her remaining brothers and sisters.

When I was younger, I nevre really understood why my mother dragged us to funerals where we had to sit on the hard cement floors and watch random women who had just arrived from the ruseva (rural areas) throw her bags on the ground and start waling hysterically from the gate so that everyone sitting in the house knew that that kwazvika munhu anochema (someone who really knows how to cry has arrived). I never appreciated people gathering for days on end before burying someone. Or why at every funeral there was that one woman who was not reverent to the fact that someone had died and cracking jokes was just not appropriate.

However, as I sat with Rose in her bedroom and I could not help but notice how she hard she was trying not to cry, so that I would not feel uncomfortable. While I on the other hand was thinking to myself, "Lord please may one tear, just one tear come out so that I can cry or mourn with my friend, and not seem as though I am being insensitive". It was at that moment that I understood and appreciated how we carried out our funerals back home. I apprecuated the woman who came from the rural areas and cried uncontrolably even though she never really had a relationship with the person who had just passed away. Her theatrical crying gave the grieveing family members the opportunity to cry without feeling awkward and the opportunity dzekupedza shungu dzekuchema. But, in addition the theatrical cryer also helped those like myself who are not really moved to cry on cue, not come across as insensitive.
I also realized that those women veruwadzano, with their ngoma's and hoshos who sang for days on end, played an important part aswell. Their sing for a few moments distracted the grieving family from the pain of their loss. And that irreverant woman she too had a role, it was to fill in those awkward moments of silence that seem never to end when you are alone with someone who is grieving. And even the irreverant woman's jokes not only filled those voids but also lifted people's spirits.

I don't know what I will do the next time I have to go and comfort one of my friends, but maybe if I incorporate a little of all those women I saw growing up I guess it will ease the awakardness.

2. The Days of Gwisai's Life Update

In my last post we learnt that after Gwisai's future "baby mama" had faked her pregnancy and many parellels could be made between real life drama and TV drama. And accordingly the Gwisai Memory scandal continues.

So after being burnt by lady love, Gwisai decided that life away from his mother was really tough. So he decided that at age 28 the best way to recover from this traumatic event was to move back to his mother's home. Now if this was the best move, it really depends who you ask but I say, to each is own. But, I love the drama that surrounds this guy because it gives me something to write about.

So as mentioned earlier Gwisai decided to move out of his to move out of his twon house and move back in with his parents. But, Memory was not going to go down without a fight. She secretly began watching Gwisai's daily moves. When he went to work and when he returned. One day while Gwisai was driving back home, he slowed down to turn into the road that led to his family's home. And waiting at the corner, sure enough was Memory. I figure she had finally mustered up the courage to ask Gwisai to take her back. I assume that when Gwisai saw her he slowed down, rolled down the window and asked her what she wanted. Memory I assume, tried to plead with Gwisai and explain that she was the only one for him. And she would not let her go because what then followed is nothing short of thetrically. Gwisai told her they were not going to get back together, she then jumped into the the back of the Mazda B1600 and refused to get out. Now you may ask why not just pick her up and get her out of the car. Well apparently Memory is a big girl and moving her wpuld not an easy task. And her size was also one of the reasons given why noone had noticed she was not pregnant. In any event after refusing to remove herself from Gwisai's B1600, Gwisai's lawyer instinct told him to drive to the police station and have them deal with her. Upon his arrival at the ZRP (Zimbabwean Republic Police) station, the officers on duty told Gwisai that they were unable to remove Memory from his car, as this was a domestic issue and the best way to handle this was to go kwatete discuss the issue. Well Gwisai knowing his rights, told the police that until they removed the intruder in his car, he would not remove the car from the ZRP parking lot. Unbeknownst to Memory, Gwisai had proceeded to leave the police station and return back home. Memory determined to win Gwisai back decided tospend the night in the back of the open truck. The next morning during the a shift change one of the officer went over to Memory and said "Iwe munhu wawakamirira akaenda nzuro enda kumba." (You the person you are waiting for left yesterday go home). A disappointed Memory picked herself up and went where ever her home was. A few days later she went to the Mupandawana's residence to let Mai Mupandawana that she was pregnant again. And of course it was Gwisai's baby.

3. The lesson Dhedhi taught me


Growing up I always admired dhedhi (daddy)'s ability to acknowledge when he was wrong or had hurt your feelings. No matter how big or small the offence, if dhedhi came to the realization that he was wrong or he had hurt you he always made sure he said "sorri bhabi". Two days ago I had a disagreement with one of my best friends. I felt that she wronged me and in response I said some stuff that was not only unnecessary but mean spirited. I later apologized to her and she graciously accepted my apology, but I knew that it was not my greatest moment. I am fortunate that dhedhi taught me that I should never be ashamed to apologize because if I had not done so I could have lost one of my greatest friends. Thank God for Dhedhi and thank God for gorgiving friends.

Well friends till next time. Happy thanks giving to those of you in the States.

Reflections of 2009

Disclaimer: People, who know me well, are aware that reading and writing have never been my greatest talent. I would rather deal with numbers than write or read anything; and hence that is why I am a bean counter (aka accountant). Such that when sisi suggested I start a blog, I never thought I would succumb to the pressure. So I apologize in advance if at times my writings may seem disorganized or incoherent. Just bear with me and try to get the jist of the blog, lolol.

So hello to you all in blogsville, I hope I find you well. I have been debating on what my first blog should be on. So seeing as 2009 is coming to an end in two months I thought this would take time to reflect on some of the happenings of the year, life changing and random. So here goes:

1. Pregnancy:

So in January I started my accounting career, and granted I was three months pregnant and I should have known that it was probably not the best time to enter a new field. I was working 10 - 12 hour days, and was consistently exhausted. But, I thought that being pregnant would be a breeze, I mean I had heard talk of how lovely the whole pregnancy experience was, and one of my friends' consistently talked about how lovely her pregnancy was and how she would do it all over again in a heartbeat. But I later realized that a lot of this was utter nonsense. Don't get me wrong, the fact that a human being can literally from nothing, shows how amazing our Creator is. But, I really do wish that women would be honest and stop making those of us whose pregnancies are not so enjoyable feel inadequate.

When the day came for me to have my little girl to be cut out of me (C-Section), I told the doctor to give whatever medication was available. I mean really I was not the first person to have a child and therefore there was really nothing for me to prove. So I was wheeled into the operating room and after thirty minutes of tugging and pulling, my daughter was born at 11:59 am. When they brought her to me for the first time I did not bond with her immediately, maybe it was the hormones. I knew she was my child but I really did not feel much of a connection with her. For the next two days people were in and out of my hospital room and I put on a happy face, because in my culture we do not talk about our feelings, for example not feeling like you would do anything for this child or not feeling a deep love for the person who just came out of you.

However, on the third day after everyone had left, that is when it happened. And for some unknown reason when I held her in my arms that night the water works started. I just could not fathom that this was my child and she was so precious and beautiful she. All of a sudden when my husband wanted to take her back to the hospital nursery I felt as though we were abandoning her. It was at that moment that I instantly fell in love with her, and till now I do not understand how it is possible to love someone you just met so deeply.

I ask myself now, would I ever put myself through another nine months of exhaustion, swollen feet and all that jazz. And the answer is yes, because becoming and being a mother is truly a blessing and the "trauma" of pregnancy seems worth it at the end of the day.

2. Murora wangu wechirungu (My white sister-in-law)

Three days before the birth of my daughter, my brother got married. 'Brother' getting married deserves mentioning not just because he is my brother, but because the induction of murora, 'Emma' into our family has really made me a more accepting person.

In the summer of 2006, brother had called me and said there was someone he wanted me to meet. Sezvineyi (Coincidently) sisi was visiting from Zimbabwe and she also shared in my excitement. The day came for us too meet this special lady. I opened the door there she was, Brother's girlfriend, petite, a smile that could melt your heart, and wait; for it she was a MURUNGU (white). My response was one of shock and horror, cause shuwa shuwa 'Brother' kuunza murungu mumhuri (As in seriouusly, for Brother to bring a white person into the family).

Why I responded in this manner still baffles me. I grew up with varungu (white people) since I was a baby. I had gone to school with white people and even had white friends. But, the idea of 'Brother' marrying a white person was a concept that I had a hard time wrapping my mind around.

But, over the years as I have gotten to know Emma more, I too have fallen in love with her. And as cliché and corny as this sounds I can also say "it is not the color of a person's skin that matters but what is inside and don't judge a book by its cover." LOLOL, my murora has brought out the best in 'Brother' and that is really all I could ask for right, a happy brother, lol. And now at Christmas I am guaranteed of receiving lovely presents, because white people are really good at giving good presents.

One of my friends reminded me of a question I once asked her years ago. "Gertrude” I said, “What do your parents think of the fact that your brother is marrying a white person." Her response was “I don't know Mrs. X." Many years later "Gertrude" asked me the same question, my response was simple “I don't know about my parents, but me I love my murora.”

3. My drug of choice

For the past 13 years my drug of choice has been soap operas, and not just any soap opera "Days of our lives". When it comes to "Days of our lives" it has been difficult for me to stop watching, and believe me I have tried. Not because I know that it is a waste of time for me too watch these fictional characters that sometimes get possessed by demons, die six or so times. Sometimes I stop watching because the show is not advancing a plot I want. So this past month after some reflection, mmm. I realized it was time to kick the bucket and stop watching this nonsense. However, this past weekend after talking to mama I realized that Days of our lives is not a fictional concept and it is truly a depiction of real life and if I stopped watching I could lose out on many life lessons portrayed in "Days". Let me validate this statement, please bear with me:

So in December sisi told me of how Gwisai Mupandawana had gotten a girl named 'Memory' pregnant. This initially came as a shock to me, not because he had made a girl pregnant out of wedlock, but, because he had enough game to even attract a girl. For as long as I can remember, Gwisai has always been extremely uncomfortable speaking to girls or even being in the same room as one. And for the most part his mother has always done the seeking of potential girlfriends and has been on a mission to find him a wife whose family has good morals and a good in standing the community.

'Gwisai', being 28 and all decided to try and fly on his own, and by finding a girl without his mother’s assistance. So the story goes as follows:

'Gwisai' meets a girl named Memory, gets Memory pregnant. And Memory meets her potential mother in law. Mother in law hates Memory. Mother in law and who in turn calls up all her friends saying "Zvandaka zoitirwa naGwisai rwendo runo, kundiunzira musikana waakanonga murhodhi" (You won't believe what Gwisai did he brought a girl he met on the road into my home).

The Mother in law came to terms with her disappointment and accepted pregnancy and her new murora. Memory did everything that a responsible pregnant woman would do. She went for her monthly doctor visits, had an ultra sound done. She even returned with ultra sound pictures and wonderful news that Gwisai and her were having a girl, and she would be named Ntha in honor of Mai Mupandawana.

Mai Mupandawana senior travelled to America for a wedding, whilst in America knowing that her new daughter in law's due date was two weeks over due, her friends asked her "komuzukuru haasati azvarwa nanhasi."(Your granddaughter still has not been born?) She responds and saying "No ndofunga akatadza kucalculata due date yake, nekuti haana kungwara." (No, I think she miscalculated her due date, because she is not clever). Mai Mupandawana returned from America with gifts for her soon to arrive muzukuru (grandchild) Ntha junior. Upon her arrival she was told that her murora had the baby, but unfortunately she was still born. Condolences started pouring in from her friends and those of us in the Diaspora who sent emailing expressing how sorry we were that their family had gone through this terrible ordeal.

Weeks later Mai Mupandawana calls her son Gwisai and asks him to come over so she could fully understand what really happened with the birth of her muzukuru. According to Gwisai, he had woken up and gone to work like any other day. When he returned home he found his wife at home as usual. However, while Gwisai was at work, Memory had gone into labor, caught an E.T. (emergency taxi or bus) to the hospital, had the baby, cremated the baby and managed to return home to greet Gwisai after a long day at work. At this point, any logical person would have asked how Memory had managed to do all this while Gwisai was at work and where the baby's death certificate was. But, not Gwisai. Mai Mupandawana, baffled by her son’s explanation instructed him to go and further question his wife and ask her to take him to the doctor who delivered and issued the baby's death certificate. As instructed by his mother Gwisai went home and asked Memory for a death certificate. she quickly began protesting stating that Gwisai's mother is trying to come between them and just as long as they understood each other they were fine. After further interrogation this girl from the road admitted she had pulled a fast one on all of them and had faked NINE MONTHS of pregnancy. How she pulled it off goodness knows, but the girl from the road fooled everyone.

So one might ask, how does this impact my decision not to give up Days of our lives. Well the answer is simple. For the past three months there was a hot storyline on Days similar to this. Nicole a character in Days of our lives has staged a pregnancy in order to stop E.J. from divorcing her. Now Nicole has not been caught, however, the correlation between the Days of our lives storyline and Memory, leads me to believe that Memory may also be an avid follower of Days like myself. And if she was able to obtain the skill set required to successfully fool a clan of people from just watching Days, imagine what I could learn . So I say this Days is a wonderful program and gives us the tools required to make it in our everyday lives. LOLOL

Well I think for a first post I have written more than I should, and I probably should save some stuff for my next post.