tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22288549547530487342024-03-13T05:14:32.865-07:00Nyiko Speaks...Nyiko J Khozahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18191337290656458525noreply@blogger.comBlogger33125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2228854954753048734.post-37153347429571046682017-11-07T05:10:00.001-08:002017-11-07T05:10:08.885-08:00Same WhatsApp Group?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Hello….hello…anyone out there who
is in the same WhatsApp group as me?<o:p></o:p></div>
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When you buy a car, you are given
a user manual so that just in case you don’t know what that button on the steering
wheel does you can find out on page 8 of the manual. When you buy a phone you
get a user manual just in case you don’t know how to activate the Wi-Fi, you
can find the answer on page 10. When you buy a TV, you get a manual, so that
just in case you want to know how to change the channel, you turn to page 15 of
the manual to find the answer. When you buy a fridge, you get a manual that
will answer all your questions about how to command your fridge to make crushed
ice. I mean, for crying out loud even when you buy the simplest kettle, you get
a manual that tells you on page 1, how to switch it on!<o:p></o:p></div>
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User manuals really make life so
easy, even though most of us never read them; it’s comforting to know that
should you get stuck with any of your gadgets you can always refer to the
manual and have your issue sorted out by a set of easy instructions! Navigating
life though, I find that I am in desperate need of a user manual for one
specific area …. D-A-T-I-N-G!<o:p></o:p></div>
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Don’t you just wish that
relationships came with a user manual or an app? A <i>specific, bespoke </i>user manual though, not just a general one that
can apply to all relationships across the board. This manual would guide you
through every step of the way and give you critical pointers that guarantee success
and address issues such as:<o:p></o:p></div>
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<li>·<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span><span style="text-indent: -18pt;">When can we move past first name basis and start referring to each with terms of endearment?</span></li>
<li>·<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span><span style="text-indent: -18pt;">Are there any terms of endearment that are too cliché
and should be avoided, like “bae”?</span></li>
<li>·<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span><span style="text-indent: -18pt;">Is it OK to assume, from day one that this new person
is now your official +1 to all social events and vice versa?</span></li>
<li>·<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span><span style="text-indent: -18pt;">Is it ever too early to suggest coordinated
outfits for the above social engagements? I mean we’ve all seen those coordinated
his and hers modern African inspired outfits on Instagram with hashtags like
#matchingoutfits </span><span style="text-indent: -18pt;"> </span><span style="text-indent: -18pt;">#matchingbaetoday
#matchingbaeswag</span></li>
<li>·<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span><span style="text-indent: -18pt;">Speaking of hashtags, is there like a probationary
period before one can suggest going on a #baecation?</span></li>
<li>·<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span><span style="text-indent: -18pt;">And now that I think about it, are there terms
of reference or limitations of where the first #baecation ought to be? Like,
would it be more advisable to go to #BelaBela or #Thailand on the first getaway
or would the latter be considered overzealous for now?</span></li>
<li>·<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span><span style="text-indent: -18pt;">If we have been dating for all of 5 minutes, and
the next thing I get a flat tyre in the middle of the night on the N1, can I call
</span><i style="text-indent: -18pt;">him</i><span style="text-indent: -18pt;"> or should I rather call First for
Women to assist?</span></li>
<li>·<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span><span style="text-indent: -18pt;">Speaking of cars, should I continue to take my car to the car wash up the road, or can one handover the task to him?</span></li>
<li>·<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span><span style="text-indent: -18pt;">And finally, for now, is it ever OK to keep a
calendar of all the significant dates and milestones (such as the first time he
wore a blue shirt, the first time we ate ice-cream, the first time we almost
had an argument) or would it be better to keep that in the secret compartment
in my head and only share it with my closest (and craziest) friends on our WhatsApp
group where we can share celebratory GIFS and have cake thereafter? #justasking</span></li>
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The questions above may seem trivial,
but trust me, they are anything but!! </div>
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<br /></div>
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These are critical things, things that
one has to navigate successfully if they are to succeed in this relationship terrain,
particularly, if like me, you did not pay sufficient attention to this human
aspect of socialisation when you were much younger and still had the benefit of
time, youth and naivety on your side!! </div>
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The challenge now, is at this stage in
my life, I am expected to know these things, I should have earned my stripes
and perhaps even be a veteran now! <o:p></o:p></div>
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I ask again, is anyone in the same boat as me? <o:p></o:p></div>
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Nyiko J Khozahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18191337290656458525noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2228854954753048734.post-88216054898385352272017-11-07T05:06:00.001-08:002017-11-07T05:06:14.472-08:00Thinking Out Loud<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<h3>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "noteworthy"; font-size: 18px; font-weight: normal; line-height: 24px;">From the many conversations that one has had with friends over lunches, dinners, holidays , spa days etc., I feel the urge to put most of these conversations on paper. More often than not these conversations are humorous as we tackle subjects such as #WFMA (waiting for my Adam), "the prototype", "DHL it or leave it?", "weapons of war" etc... Please lest I be misinterpreted and quoted out of context, my lady friends and I discuss other more important things such as: women empowerment, the role that nuclear energy can play in addressing Africa's energy crisis, the impact of globalization on development, the role of the youth in Africa's development and of course, the nexus between peace and development, and of course the age old philosophical question: what is the meaning of life?</span></h3>
<h3>
<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "noteworthy"; font-size: 18px; line-height: 24px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "noteworthy"; font-size: 18px; line-height: 24px;">In light of the foregoing, I feel that it is only right that I use this platform to bring these discussions to light. In order to protect the identities of those involved and to confuse the enemy, I will employ the use of pseudonyms. I must say for some reason over the last six months or so there have been so many interesting things happening to me, all of which in one way or another relate to my current status. I mean just the other day, I was on a call regarding an insurance quotation and this is how the conversation went between myself and the consultant (male) on the other end:</span>.....<br />Consultant: Are you married?<br />Me: No.<br />Consultant: Are you engaged?<br />Me: No.<br />Consultant: Are you living with someone?<br />Me: No.<br />Consultant: Are you lobolad?<br />Me: No.<br />Consultant: Heh? Mara why what's wrong? </span></h3>
<h3>
<span style="font-weight: normal;"><br />There was such alarm and perhaps even concern in the tone of the male consultant on the other side. He seemed rather taken aback at how on earth it is possible that to all of the questions he posed, I answered in the negative. I couldn't not help but be amused and merely laugh at the concern of this stranger. There are so many stories of this nature that I could cite right now, but I will save those for later posts.</span></h3>
<h3>
<span style="font-weight: normal;"><br />This will be a platform where, I will share many similar anecdotes and at times I will use this platform to think out loud and sometimes share the stories that play out in the theater that is my mind. </span></h3>
<h3>
<span style="font-weight: normal;"><br />My ladies, welcome to the largest and longest slumber party yet. Get your drink of choice ready (I'll have a vanilla milkshake followed by a mojito - hmm I was once told that the best mojitos are the ones made on Long Street in Cape Town) ... that too is a story for another day... *winks*</span></h3>
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This is going to be fun!</div>
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Nyiko J Khozahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18191337290656458525noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2228854954753048734.post-963802399631884922017-06-15T00:53:00.002-07:002017-06-15T04:34:16.700-07:00THE COAT<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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My goodness, why though? <o:p></o:p></div>
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Why do we like to hold on to
things even well past their sell-by dates? <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Or is it just me? <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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This is rather strange because
when it comes to food, if anything is within two or even three days of its
sell-by date (note I said <i>sell-by </i>date,
not even <i>expiry date</i>), I do not touch
it. I am that girl you will see at the supermarket always reaching for the
bread, milk or veggies that are at the back of the shelf! What’s worse, even my
mother will tell you that if a box of milk is due to expire say on the 10<sup>th</sup>
of June, should the digital clock on my nightstand hit 00:01 on the morning of
the 10<sup>th</sup>, I would not hesitate to throw my blankets aside, march to
the fridge and throw out that box of milk out before someone decides to have
cereal the next morning. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Why then is it that in some
instances (maybe one in particular) have I not extended the same risk rating
that I have given to expired milk to some situations (or one situation in
particular)? <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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It all started with a coat, not
just any coat – a coat that <i>had</i> great
value. Here I use the past tense because
I no longer have the coat; I had to let the coat go. Wherever it is, I hope
that it’s in good hands; it’s safe, clean and happy. I gifted myself with the
coat on one of my travels and soon thereafter I happened to forget it (well to
tell you the truth I am not sure whether I forgot it, whether I deliberately
left it or whether I had assumed that I would be reunited with it on my next
trip to the place where I had left it). However for now let’s agree to say I forgot
it. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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With every passing winter, it
became clearer that I would never see the coat again, but I refused to accept
that! All my friends knew about the coat and its whereabouts, shucks if it was possible,
they would have probably made posters and called the missing coat hotline just
to shut me up! But being the good friends that they are, on one of our weekend
getaways to a location that will remain undisclosed in order to protect the
identity of the individual who has custody of my coat, they offered to escort me
to rescue my beloved coat. Needless to say, we went, we saw, we even took
selfies against the beautiful ocean background…but I can’t say we conquered. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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As I enter the fourth winter
without said coat, I have now been forced to read the writing on the milk
bottle: LET THE COAT GO. I must say though, with a great deal of bravado that I
am quite happy and ready to let it go. Its time, in fact, the coat situation is
waaaay past its expiry date. If the coat were not an inanimate object I’m sure
it would write me a note, something along the lines of: HI NYIKO, I KNOW YOU
REALLY LIKED ME BECAUSE I HAD A CERTAIN JE NE SAIS QUOI. I KNOW YOU DID NOT
MEAN TO FORGET ME IN THAT DARK CLOSET, IT’S OK. GO ON, GO ON, I KNOW THAT THERE ARE MANY OTHER COATS THAT
WOULD SUIT YOU JUST AS WELL, IF NOT BETTER, XOXO THE COAT.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Now that I think about it, if I go
all “Dr Phil meets Oprah” on myself it’s highly likely that the coat was a metaphor,
it represented something beyond a mere garment. There came a time where, I decided,
with the help of time of course, that this garment situation was well past its
expiry date. Holding on to the coat would be tantamount to keeping an expired
box of milk in the fridge until it turns into Inkomazi (sour cream). Now that’s
not a good look, not at all. So coat, in response to your kind note, here’s my
reply: HI COAT, BE GOOD, XOXO. <o:p></o:p></div>
</div>
Nyiko J Khozahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18191337290656458525noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2228854954753048734.post-70056260295310626282016-03-26T14:47:00.002-07:002016-03-26T14:47:26.952-07:00Yes! The (my) YBP is real!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
So at some point in 2015 I believe it must have been, I birthed a term over a pizza date with my buddies Lusanda and Akhona. The term soon gained uber popularity as I introduced it to my other friendship circles. Now, since then I have been wanting to blog about it....but I lacked adequate material so I held back. It took me a whole 12 months to actually meet someone who actually fit the profile of the term that I had coined. Yes granted the term in itself is not entirely new, but the context within which I coined it and further developed it with my girls is what gives it its originality in a way that only my girls and I appreciate.<br />
<br />
Young Black Professional. YBP. That's the term. So you see I consider myself to be a YBP ... a young black professional who is upwardly mobile. A highly ambitious, assertive and purpose driven someone... So in my humble opinion the only match for me would be someone in the very same league...I believe that only makes sense! I'm all for that "power couple lets take the world by storm" kind of vibes. You know, the Oprah and Stedman kind of vibes, the Jay Zee and Beyonce vibes, and perhaps lets bring it a touch closer to home, the Basetsana and Romeo type of vibes... you catch my flow?<br />
<br />
Well the gods must have been smiling in my direction because I happened to come across and engage a real life, real time, real homie YBP with the most beautiful heart, the deepest sense of being, and an incredibly high state of consciousness. Like I'm talking about a real human being who encompasses all of the critical indicators to qualify as a YBP: charismatic, smart, driven, bright, conversational, incredibly funny, and all about black excellence. Easy on the eye too, and heavens those brown eyes would make any individual break out into a rendition of India Arie's Brown Eyes.....<br />
<br />
That relatively short encounter with the real life, real time YBP actually made me realise that hey hold up... these kind of people, although rare, do exist, they are out there!<br />
<br />
Ladies and gentlemen, friends and fellow country men, I do believe that I have found my prototype, my architectural standard, my blue print going forward. On a more serious note though, I strongly enjoy interactions with people that leave you better, wealthier and teach you certain things that you had not even thought about.<br />
<br />
Cheers to you, Mr unassuming YBP, you have just raised the stakes in a major way.<br />
<br /></div>
Nyiko J Khozahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18191337290656458525noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2228854954753048734.post-41430739134090140392016-03-15T21:50:00.000-07:002016-03-17T09:46:14.076-07:00#Mozgetaway<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I have been meaning to write about this awesome experience since the day that we arrived in Mozambique several days ago. But I suppose 4 days into the holiday is the most opportune time to sit down, reflect, recall and most importantly be grateful. I could not think of a better place to do this than on the beach, at 06:17 whilst l look out into the crisp blue ocean listening to the waves crashing into each other.<br />
<br />
So, precisely 12 weeks ago I began toying with the idea of going away with my most trusted allies, my closest friends to mark my 30th birthday. The plan came to together in the most fascinating way and I could not have asked for a better group of people to spend 5 spectacular days with. Since leaving RSA 4 days ago, our time has been nothing short of mad, crazy and stupendous fun. We have had deep conversations, silly conversations, hilarious conversations, shared meals together, taken walks on the beach, played games, swam in the ocean or rather some of us got manhandled by the Goliath waves!<br />
<br />
I am truly grateful for this entire experience and highly prize each of the people who have made this experience what it is. Old friendships have been solidified, new ones have been formed, and family ties have been solidified. In fact I feel like sending a shout out to each of these homies.<br />
<br />
Lusanda and Akhona: we have been at this since high school days and we are still at it. These girls are forever bubbly, full of life and man are we crazy and more often than not we tend to live in our own imaginary world.<br />
<br />
Anza and Lehakoe: my lady friends, who would have thought that our initial interactions at Children's Church all those years ago would blossom into what we have today? Together, we do life, we are each other's cheerleaders and I love the way in which you are firmly grounded in the Word. Oh yes, and you too have had the opportunity of listening to my crazy stories which for the most part exist in my alternative universe.<br />
<br />
Siblings (Thoby) : my sister.... you are always there! I could not have asked for a better additional sister who is also a friend! I must say we have come a long way since our days of playing five cards and crazy 8 non-stop!<br />
<br />
Moeketsi: Cousin.... you have added that certain je ne sais qoi to this entire thing. Thank you for taking the initiative to come on board. After years and years of talking we finally pulled it off and I lift my glass to the many more holidays that we will take!<br />
<br />
Ashley: Guy, that laugh of yours is the future!! Full of life, full of insight, adventurous you are with the biggest and most beautiful heart. Thanks for being that guy who was willing to get into a bus with practically 10 strangers and head off to a foreign country!<br />
<br />
Hlatsy: In the short 4 months that we have known each other, you have definitely come to the party in a big way hahaha. Thanks buddy for being that guy! And PS: you are incredibly sweet!<br />
<br />
Austin: or should I rather say Antwan... (with an American accent)... We make a good team in that cards game! Thanks for coming through and man you make me laugh!<br />
<br />
Zothando and Nkuli: Congratulations on your marriage guys. We only met on the night of departure and have now known each other for a grand total of 4 days but you would swear that we have all been friends since way back when!<br />
<br />
<br />
To "every people" MUITO OBRIGADO!!!<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
Nyiko J Khozahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18191337290656458525noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2228854954753048734.post-35587571754502746482016-02-17T03:02:00.001-08:002016-02-17T03:10:56.212-08:00Old School Kinda Gal<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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You see, I’m an old school kind
of girl. You see I have, for the longest time, held on to the notion of boy
meets girl. Boy likes girl. And the then boy asks girl out and they live
happily ever after. And by boy asks girl out I literally mean that boy is supposed
to stick to the script and say these very words without any deviation: “girl
will you be my girlfriend”. You see I think that works out well and has several
advantages, for example as girl who keep a meticulous record of anything and
everything, you will have the exact date, time, location (perhaps even dress
code) of when you started dating. That will enable you to know exactly your one
week, two week, one month; three month anniversary is you see. So more than
anything the concept of <i>shelling</i>
(formally asking a girl out in kasi lingo) is important for ensuring that
everyone is on the same page, there are no misunderstandings, no confusion and once
again it allows one to keep an admissible record of things.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Hmmm, there has however been,
over the years this nagging suspicion that times have changed, people have evolved
and so have practices of old. I fear that the art and practice of <i>shelling </i>like the rhino is facing
extinction, or worse still like the dodo whose pictures we now only see in encyclopedia,
is already extinct! (Oh my, do people still make use of encyclopedias these
days – there we go again, old school girl). <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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In order to test my hypothesis, I
decided to call a friend. A friend that, by virtue of his gender, may be able
to give me illuminating insights about this scarce phenomenon. In great detail he
explained that the art has changed, it’s no longer as obvious, it’s more
subtle, and as such one would need to know how to interpret the signs when they
present themselves. Phew, like I’m wondering when did all of this happen, when
did the memo go out that things no longer work as per the old ‘analogue’ system,
things have gone ‘digital’! Did I sleep through this revolution? Had I taken sabbatical
from societal developments? Had I accepted a special assignment to Mars to see
if indeed signs that life can be sustained on that planet are true? Had I been
in some kind of utopia induced coma since say, political parties were unbanned
in South Africa? <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Clearly, nothing logically
explains how I missed these signs, or perhaps I did not miss them per se, but rather
I have stubbornly held onto this old school version of boy meets girl. Well, I can
hope for two things since my discovery. First, that someone publishes a short
book titled “BOY MEETS GIRL 101 - THINGS YOU MAY HAVE MISSED WHILE YOU WERE
AWAY LIVING UNDER A ROCK”<i>.</i> Pretty long
title but I’m sure that could work. Second, hopefully after having received a
crash course on these issues from my dear kind friend, I too will be able to
read and interpret the signs, heaven forbid I miss them! </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
...Until then though, I am
still an old school kinda gal...<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
xoxo<o:p></o:p></div>
</div>
Nyiko J Khozahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18191337290656458525noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2228854954753048734.post-17212385892807532072015-10-19T13:49:00.000-07:002015-10-19T13:49:15.976-07:00When June 1976 comes knocking...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">What a day, what a day, a day
that the history books will remember. A day that, I have no doubt has moved us
closer to the realisation of the ideals of the Revolution. Who was it that once
said that each generation must discover its mission, fulfil it or betray it? I believe
that those must have been the words of Afro-Caribbean psychiatrist, philosopher
and revolutionary whose works are influential in the fields of post-colonial
studies and Marxism: <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Frantz Fanon.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">As a keen follower of student
politics (given that I myself am a student) across South Africa, I have
followed with devout commitment the developments as they unfolded regarding the
#RhodesMustFall Movement as well as other developments as they relate to “decolonising”
our national spaces, in particular institutions of higher learning. The call
for genuine transformation is long overdue. The pace of transformation,
particularly in the space of higher education has, for the most part been sluggish.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I unequivocally believe that it
is an affront, an insult, a slap in the face to the heroes of yesteryear who
fought to the bone for the liberation of this country that the black African
child from a working class family STILL after 21 years, finds themselves excluded
and systematically marginalised when it comes to having access to opportunities
that can only be found within the lecture halls of universities. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our heroes of yesteryear would be shocked to
learn that the depth of one’s pocket is what determines ones access to quality
education! The question that burns in my mouth is this: what kind of South Africa
are we building when the average black child (who has no wealthy relatives and
no trust fund) is denied an education based on affordability? We talk about
freedom, but I ask with tears in my eyes, what is the value of freedom if that
freedom cannot yield tangible and accessible opportunities for the people of
this country? We talk about “born-frees”, is that just a fancy title that has
no substance? What is the point if one is classified as born-free and yet they
cannot even describe what freedom looks like and feels like? What use is being
a born-free if one is shackled by the chains of the constant threat of
financial exclusion?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The #WitsFeesMustFall campaign,
has gained momentum and the winds of change are blowing to other institutions
of higher learning across the country. It is a bitter truth that change is seldom,
if ever, handed to one on a silver platter, especially if you are fighting
against an established system, and you happen to be the “weaker” opponent. Change
has to be demanded. Change has to be fought for. Systems must be rattled and
shaken to the core before change can result. That is what, as a student of
political science, many revolutionary struggles around the globe have taught
me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Today, 19 October 2015, I happened,
through a series of divine coincidences, happened to find myself at the right
place, at the right time. I felt as though June 16, 1976 had knocked at my door
and I had no option but to open the door and follow the dictates of my revolutionary
conscious. I decided that to be an arm-chair supporter of the cause was not enough;
I too wanted to be counted amongst those who actively joined the campaign, the
revolution. As a Witsie myself, the child of black African working class parents,
and as one who desires that the frontiers of higher education be expanded for
all I put all my plans for the day on hold and joined the movement. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">At around 15:30, I was standing
outside the Great Hall and was on a call, I then heard chanting, singing and what
could only be my fellow students approaching. I very swiftly, told the person
on the other side of the call that the revolution was approaching and that I would
call them back later. The crowd of students exited the Great Hall and in less
than 60 seconds, I had been swallowed and had joined the protesting masses. I inadvertently
became part of the front line and we began marching forward. At that point I had
no idea where we were going, but that was not an issue as I had already made
the conscious decision that forward I shall advance until we reach our
destination. We then marched out of campus in song, slogan after slogan, onto Jorissen
Street, we headed towards the Yale Road entrance of Wits University where we
camped. Yes, traffic was disrupted, yes, it was brought to a standstill, yes,
people were inconvenienced and yes, for that period that part of Johannesburg
was brought to a grinding halt as we the students stood united and made our
cause known to all and sundry. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">We were camped peacefully, some
standing others sitting on the road surface, when some crazy driver decided to
mow through the crowd with his vehicle, not a care in the world that his
actions might seriously injure protesting students. It did not end well for the
driver, and dare I say he will never again dare to disregard black students. I wonder
whether in his mind he saw black students or he just saw a group of unruly Africans
whose lives are so cheap that he can mow them down and kill them? This is the
kind of attitude that irks me! The kind of attitude that has been termed white
arrogance. The kind of attitude that one encounters ever so often in this land,
the kind of attitude that my parents and the peers had to face day in and day
out! The kind of attitude that needs to be addressed without fear or favour! The
kind of attitude that convinced that driver that he could manoeuvre his way
through all the other cars that were patiently waiting for the protesters to
disperse and to speed over the bodies of lack students in his white bakkie?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">What was even more striking after
this incident was that Metro Police started loading their guns with rubber
bullets and advancing towards the crowd of us as if we cattle that needed to be
rounded up and taken to the<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>slaughterhouse. One of the cops was even heard asking: “how many rounds
of ammunition do we have? We will need more”. Thank heavens that no shooting
ensued, but in my mind’s eye all I could think of was how the peaceful student
protestors of June 1976 were shot by the police and chaos ensued. But I must
say, when I heard the cocking of a police gun behind us, this emboldened us
because we knew that we were fighting for a just cause and would not be
intimidated.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Phambili with the Revolution! Forward
we go and backward never!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">We will not turn back, not even
to gain momentum! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I will end of this post with a
few lines from Tracey Chapman’s Revolution, which by some stroke of prophetic
coincidence happened to be today’s power jam on Power Talk with Iman Rappetti
on Power FM:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Poor people gonna rise up and get
their share<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Poor people gonna rise up and take
what’s theirs<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Don’t you know<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">You better run, run, run…..<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Finally the tables are starting
to turn <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Talkin’ bout a revolution<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
Nyiko J Khozahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18191337290656458525noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2228854954753048734.post-72284636979558438902015-09-25T23:02:00.005-07:002015-09-25T23:02:19.642-07:00Road Trip!!!!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">This is one of those rare and prized moments when I am
travelling with my aunts and uncles to my cousin Rhulani’s wedding celebration –
or rather part 2 thereof– in Thohoyandou, Venda. The first instalment of the
wedding was last week, on the 19<sup>th</sup> of September 2015 and what a beautiful
day that was! We are on the road as I write this, driving through scenic routes,
with a village or a township appearing here and there. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We are a party of six: my mom, my two uncles,
my two aunts and I and since my uncle is the resident DJ and co-pilot on this
road trip, there is a Shangaan music blaring in the background. <o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I must say that the iconic and rhythmic instruments together
with the simple yet creative lyrics invoke a sense of nostalgia. For some
reason or the other it reminds of years gone by, at my grandparent’s home in
Chiawelo, Soweto. On any given day outside, you could hear this kind of music
playing somewhere a few houses down the road. The sweet melodies of Thomas
Chauke-like music would be carried by the wind into Imha’s (that’s what we used
to call my grandma, in my view that sounded a whole lot cooler than Kokwani!) kitchen
while she went about her business either making porridge getting ready to feed my
cousin, Musa and I. I must really love food, because the most enduring memories
that I have as a kid of around 4 years at Imha’s house involve food, cooking, being
fed or a combination thereof!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">My aunt Rose and aunt Dudu are having a whale of a chat in
the backseat, my mom and my two uncles are discussing a myriad of things that
include politics, the philosophy of life vis-à-vis material wealth, an anecdote
here and there about some policeman in some village and his encounter with a gang
of criminals, oh yes and in true Malume Harry style, he just shared a quote by
the Dalai Lama about the meaning of life. (As a side bar, if you are ever looking
for a quote about anything, and I mean ANYTHING, from life, marriage, trees,
cows, the sun, tv, shoes, mountains, ask him and he will not disappoint!).<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I must say, what a blessing family is. This road-trip has
made me stop and smell the roses. It has made me consciously appreciate each
family unit as well as enjoy their company. My prayer is that as a family we
continue from generation to generation to build on these strong family ties. Ok
back to the road-trip, Malume Don our pilot has got this.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Cheers for now.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
</div>
Nyiko J Khozahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18191337290656458525noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2228854954753048734.post-54280163705811110382015-09-25T23:02:00.001-07:002015-09-25T23:02:01.591-07:00Road Trip!!!!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">This is one of those rare and prized moments when I am
travelling with my aunts and uncles to my cousin Rhulani’s wedding celebration –
or rather part 2 thereof– in Thohoyandou, Venda. The first instalment of the
wedding was last week, on the 19<sup>th</sup> of September 2015 and what a beautiful
day that was! We are on the road as I write this, driving through scenic routes,
with a village or a township appearing here and there. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We are a party of six: my mom, my two uncles,
my two aunts and I and since my uncle is the resident DJ and co-pilot on this
road trip, there is a Shangaan music blaring in the background. <o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I must say that the iconic and rhythmic instruments together
with the simple yet creative lyrics invoke a sense of nostalgia. For some
reason or the other it reminds of years gone by, at my grandparent’s home in
Chiawelo, Soweto. On any given day outside, you could hear this kind of music
playing somewhere a few houses down the road. The sweet melodies of Thomas
Chauke-like music would be carried by the wind into Imha’s (that’s what we used
to call my grandma, in my view that sounded a whole lot cooler than Kokwani!) kitchen
while she went about her business either making porridge getting ready to feed my
cousin, Musa and I. I must really love food, because the most enduring memories
that I have as a kid of around 4 years at Imha’s house involve food, cooking, being
fed or a combination thereof!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">My aunt Rose and aunt Dudu are having a whale of a chat in
the backseat, my mom and my two uncles are discussing a myriad of things that
include politics, the philosophy of life vis-à-vis material wealth, an anecdote
here and there about some policeman in some village and his encounter with a gang
of criminals, oh yes and in true Malume Harry style, he just shared a quote by
the Dalai Lama about the meaning of life. (As a side bar, if you are ever looking
for a quote about anything, and I mean ANYTHING, from life, marriage, trees,
cows, the sun, tv, shoes, mountains, ask him and he will not disappoint!).<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I must say, what a blessing family is. This road-trip has
made me stop and smell the roses. It has made me consciously appreciate each
family unit as well as enjoy their company. My prayer is that as a family we
continue from generation to generation to build on these strong family ties. Ok
back to the road-trip, Malume Don our pilot has got this.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Cheers for now.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
</div>
Nyiko J Khozahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18191337290656458525noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2228854954753048734.post-49520905609528364342015-07-11T12:12:00.000-07:002015-07-11T12:13:28.037-07:00Dancing to the music of the stars<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Sometimes, she catches her mind wandering.
Wandering into worlds that she had told herself were no more. Worlds that she
had told herself no longer exist. Those worlds used to be beautiful places,
places of serenity, and places of dreams. But she soon realised that what had
made those worlds magical, was because he was there. In those worlds they had
co-existed, in those worlds they had breathed the same air; they had lived
under the same skies. Beautiful blue skies with no clouds in sight, the sun
shone brightly. By night, the sky was a perfect black, with a big full radiant
night ball suspended in the atmosphere. If that moon could sing it would have
looked down upon them and render a celebratory song in an unknown language that
their ears could not make sense of, but their hearts could understand
perfectly.<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Then, as though suddenly, clouds began to gather.
They gathered as though responding to the sound of a mighty horn calling all
soldiers to report for duty, for a battle that was about to begin. Perhaps the
clouds had always been there, high up in the sky playing a game of hide and
seek. Waiting for the perfect moment to shed themselves of the excess baggage
that they carried. It began to rain. It rained. It poured. It flooded. She
found herself, sending out a dove from the ark that she had found shelter in,
only for it to return for it had not found any dry land...<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
At last, when she awoke from what seemed like
centuries of slumber, the flood waters had receded. She ventured out, looked up
at the sky. The sky greeted her. The warm rays of the sun kissed her face. This
new world seemed different. She looked up once again and saw a rainbow and she hoped
with all her being until it hurt, that this was a sign that her world would
never again be swallowed by floods so vicious in nature. <o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Now when she looks at the sky, she smiles. She
smiles because she remembers the days before the flood. She remembers that
there was once a world gone by, where they once co-existed where the sweet
melodies of the moon served as the soundtrack to their existence. Although that
world no longer exists, there are many other worlds and galaxies where the
moons and stars will make sweet symphony music and she will dance again.<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Yes, she will dance again. She will dance again. Her
feet will learn the new rhythm to which she should move. <o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
She will dance again she owes it to the universe
and to herself.<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<o:p> </o:p></div>
</div>
Nyiko J Khozahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18191337290656458525noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2228854954753048734.post-84268177128966107382015-06-24T03:00:00.001-07:002015-06-24T03:02:49.384-07:00"Let's Get It On" - <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Isn't it just strange how on a random day, a song starts playing on the radio and that song evokes a certain memory? Yeah, I'm sure sure we can all identify with that. For me, it actually goes beyond music evoking memories of days gone by. In fact it's quit bizarre, and I think that as an antidote, perhaps if I write these down, it will serve some kind of therapeutic purpose. It's funny how a lot of these random things take one back to a specific time in history. But hey, don't they say that when the world gives you lemons, you make lemonade? Well, in that case here's to making lemonade - cheers to the memories of days gone by. Oh yes, let's not forget that each time we make lemonade, we ought to make double sure that the bitter seeds have been removed. So if you are reading this, fill your glass to the brim and enjoy my sweet (seed-free, figuratively speaking) lemonade.<br />
<br />
In some instances, I may offer a bit more detail regarding what I have termed the "memory evokers" and in other instances I shall be silent regarding the "memory evoker". However, given your affinity to me, you may be able to make the link, and if you do, then lift that glass of lemonade and CHEERS! 3,2,1 here goes!<br />
<br />
1) Mmalo-We by Jabu Khanyile<br />
2) Ntyilo Ntyilo...<br />
3) Caramel Popocorn: I can't help but laugh here. Sorry.<br />
4) Mugg & Bean Breakfasts. Just the other day, I went for a quick coffee at M&B and as soon as I walked in, it was like I was transported to days gone by!<br />
5) One thing does beat the M&B breakfasts though: homemade breakfast of scrambled eggs, cottage cheese and avo.<br />
6) Ice cream: Magnum and Woolies Tin Roof to be precise.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
My my, I'm seeing a pattern here....you got me, I'm a #foodie</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
7) The strong scent of black coffee<br />
8) Monkeys: the cute "animal-children" kind<br />
9) Crazy 8<br />
10) 30 seconds<br />
11) Vorsprung Durch Technik<br />
12) Foot massages: the best I ever had, Soulstice and Life Day Spa could sure take notes<br />
12) Ben Okri Literature: one book in particular where protagonist is a guy named Omovo.<br />
13) Mojitos.... I hear that the best ones are made at a place somewhere on Long Street in Cape Town<br />
14) Isibaya.... Not cattle kraal but rather the tv series... </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
15) Nomkhi. Enough said. Thank you. Bye.<br />
<br />
Ok that's enough for now.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
Ok so, the title of this post? Why did I choose to name after a song? Well, I once read abook by Fred Khumalo, titled Bitches Brew. The book is basically comprised of a series of letters that the two protagonists write to one another. Each letter that Zakes writes to Lettie is named after a song that in his view evokes certain memories. So, I too found it fitting, to, like Zakes, title this post after a song by Marvin Gaye that was there from the beginning...</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
CHEERS!</div>
</div>
Nyiko J Khozahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18191337290656458525noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2228854954753048734.post-88906068839174813112015-06-14T08:42:00.001-07:002015-06-14T09:38:33.456-07:00Sometimes, you need to stand still in order to move forward<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.09375); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px;">Sometimes, you need to stand still in order to move forward. <div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The other day I was traveling from Johannesburg to Cape Town. The flight duration is normally just under two hours on a good day, on this particular day the flight left Johannesburg and halfway towards our destination the Captain announces that we are making good progress on the trip and all conditions (weather etc) are in order and a such we should reach our destination 15 minutes earlier than scheduled! Now for me it's always great news when a flight lands much earlier than expected, because that just means that one can get on the business of the day without delay. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
As I'm having a mini victory dance (in my head of course), I'm thinking "this is great, it will give me a head start in collecting my luggage, getting my rental car and generally sorting out all the necessary logistics and I will get to my meeting early, yippee..." </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
About thirty minutes later, the speakers come on, interrupting my reverie, and naturally I am expecting to hear a voice that tells us that we will be landing in 10 minutes, to put our seats in the upright position, fold our tray tables, stow our hand luggage under our seats or in the overhead compartments above us blah blah blah (lol, i can almost hear the SAA lady making that announcement as I write this!). To my surprise, it's the Captain again, and instead he says: "<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0898438); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);">dear passengers, we have just received a message from the control centre, there is an aircraft ahead of us, on our path, that is experiencing some difficulties and as such we cannot proceed to land and as such have been requested to enter a holding pattern (in essence this is flight jargon for a maneuver designed to delay an aircraft already in flight while keeping it in a specified airspace). In other words, this means that the aircraft remains in motion but makes no progress towards its destination until it is released and it's safe to do so.</span></div>
<div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0898438); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);">So indeed as instructed, the pilots kept the flight stationary -in mid air- whilst waiting for the green light to proceed with landing. In that ten minutes of standing still, heaven knows how many miles in the air, an interesting thought was delivered to me. And the thought was this: "As is the current case with this aircraft, sometimes it is necessary, in life, to stand still in order to move forward". Now I don't know if it was my phyisical proximity to the heavens (seeing that I was in an aircraft and suspended in the clouds) that inpired this epiphany- this moment of sudden revelation and insight?! Lol, probably not. I'm sure it was just my natural flair, perceptive prowess, analytical outlook and creativity that birthed that thought. Ok kidding once again. I digress. Back to the point. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0898438); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);">This moment got me thinking, thatst times as human beings we are always on the move. We set goals, targets with timeframes and we are just on the fast lane chasing that next target, chasing whatever dreams motivate us to wake up everyday. It may be different things that we are chasing, for some of us, it's career growth, promotion, the next deal, the next job. For others it may be chasing personal goals such having their own OPW, kids, or something. For others still it may be about chasing abstract and elusive concepts such as happiness, success, peace, fulfillment etc. Or perhaps if you are like me,it's about moving towards the realization of a combination of the above-mentioned and more!</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0898438); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);">As human beings, naturally, we are born to want to achieve more, break boundaries, push, succeed and that is absolutely ok. Equally, it is also absolutely ok to, at certain levels, stand still, take stock, amend your plans if need be, and then move forward to your "landing strip".</span></div>
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Nyiko J Khozahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18191337290656458525noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2228854954753048734.post-90777630205764112652015-06-08T08:53:00.001-07:002015-06-08T08:53:13.720-07:00The DREAM<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Several days ago I had a dream. A dream that left me feeling in awe, feeling excited., feeling an inexpressible joy. Throughout that day I told anyone who cared to listen about this dream!!!</div>
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Well, so here goes. So it seemed like any other ordinary day...until I heard the news! Not sure whether it was e news or SABC, but either way the news anchor reported that, now wait for it......she tells the nation that Jesus is coming back!!! Now of course He is coming back, I know that. What was so striking in this dream was that they were reporting it as though it was already happening! The news anchor further stated that when Jesus arrives, He will start in Soweto (lol, I'm pretty sure that this has something to do with our Good Friday celebration at Orlando Stadium) and make His way through the country. I was so excited, and couldn't wait to meet my Saviour, my Redeemer face to face!! </div>
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What a dream. It left me feeling all sorts of happy and joyous and calm and excited and ready for eternity!!!</div>
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Nyiko J Khozahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18191337290656458525noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2228854954753048734.post-15881205242376646862015-02-23T07:21:00.001-08:002015-03-05T00:17:54.275-08:00The life and times of the G 4 <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
What a good laugh I had with my girl Dee last week Friday, me in Pretoria and her in Beijing! It has become a habit that now and again (probably too often in Dee's view), I call or send her a WhatsApp message and re-live the good times that we have had in the past, in particular our all-inclusive, all expenses paid, green braclet holiday in Zanzibar in 2012!<br />
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We then progress to recalling everything from how we "won"the holiday in the first place, our journey there, time spent in transit in Nairobi, our arrival in Zanzibar and how in our excitement we got into the first car that we saw without even first ascertaining that the driver was actually taking us to the correct resort. We talk about the food we ate, the sandbank in the middle of the ocean, rowing in the ocean and at some point being the only natives on the beach.<br />
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We then noted that we cannot talk about Zanzibar without going back to our time in the DRC in 2011. That was another epic experience, Che*, Dee and I - we ran that town! The three of us were comrades in arms. That was a great three weeks of work and fun. Daily lunches at either Nandos or Mama Colonel with pap, spinach and chicken; how we always had a deck of cards on hand, playing Crazy 8 like we were addicted; driving around Kinshasa with our dear driver Landry. (For my own reputation I will deliberately forget to mention one specific moment, it shall suffice to just mention a few words: taxi, window, me, shouting, ministerial convoy, che). And how I could ever forget my rendition of Marvin Gaye's Lets Get It On, at karaoke night? Of course I will never live that performance down, NEVER. Just this morning one member of the G4 called me to remind me of that night, FOUR YEARS AGO!! <br />
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November 2011 was yet another good month worth remembering. Good memories indeed, in fact now that I think about it, this was the only instance that the G 4 was fully constituted!! Dee had decided that she wanted to go away for her birthday weekend, and as the loyal friend that I am, I was readily in support of that plan. So off to Mpumalanga we went, the four of us, Dee, Che, Sankara* and I - ROADTRIP!!!! I can't even contain my laughter as I recall all the events that preceded our departure.<br />
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On Friday, 4 November 2011 we got to work, all clad in our summer dresses, and had planned to depart at 10am. We asked one particular colleague to drop us off our the designated departure spot somewhere in Hatfield. We waited for a few minutes for the other half of the G4 to arrive and off we were to our weekend destination.<br />
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About 2 hours into the drive we had already begun to build rapport and gel as the G4. This was our litmus test and I must say that we passed it with flying colours. During our phone call Dee and I laughed so hard as we remembered the guy who insisted on taking "same time photos", the good conversation that we had over dinner to the sounds of wildlife, playing 30 seconds (although we did not really move even past the first round), playing cards (Crazy 8 of course), going to gods window, the three rondavels, Jabulani the elephant that was more comfortable with people than his own fellow elephants, Bongani the cheetah, Stolichnaya and the self-appointed mixologist, the list is endless. It was on this particular trip that the ever famous phrase "feelings don't lie"was born [Refer to very first blog post of August 2012 of the same title]. And of course our sound track for the weekend was, yes you guessed it, Lets Get It On - hence when the DRC trip came up that song was still fresh our ears! <br />
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Oh the life and times of the G 4. The G4 as we once knew it has since been disbanded, or rather, it no longer exists in the shape and form that we once knew it. It is now most probably the G 2+1+1 or something along those lines. But one thing remains for sure: I have got nothing but love for most of the members of the G 4... (lol...ok for all of them).<br />
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*Not their real names, in order to protect their identities - I do not want any lawsuits to come my way!! What happens in Mpumalanga stays in Mpumalanga!!!</div>
Nyiko J Khozahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18191337290656458525noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2228854954753048734.post-60982990082560702492015-01-28T02:19:00.003-08:002015-01-28T02:51:42.244-08:00Madam Speaker Marks Another Year ...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
The 21st of January 2015.
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What an amazing day I had. I wonder what accounts for the feeling of excitement and happiness on one’s birthday. Perhaps it’s the knowledge of knowing that you have completed yet another 360 degree revolution – metaphorically speaking, perhaps it’s all the pressies that you know are coming your way? Well I guess different people have different reasons why they find their birthdays significant, different from the other 364 days in the year.
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This year, I wanted to take in every moment of the 24 hours of my birthday. I wanted to deliberately live out each of those 1440 minutes of my birthday. Well, I can’t really explain why this would be the case this year, but either way that’s what I did.
When the clock struck 00:00 on the 21st of January I was actually still prancing around the house, in and out of my parent’s room and in and out of the lounge busy chatting about all sorts of things to my mom and dad. Earlier the previous day I had collected my African inspired outfit from the guy that makes my clothes so I was busy parading the outfit and deciding what accessories I should pair it with, for my “surprise” birthday lunch that my girl Dee was organising for the weekend. I digress –back to the main story…
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The first thing that I wanted to do in the first few minutes of my birthday was to approach the throne of my Creator, the Lord of Heaven’s Armies, the one who knew me before He formed me to thank Him for yet another year; to thank Him for his abundant grace and, to praise Him and proclaim His greatness. I did just that and my heart was at peace and secure in the knowledge that as I start yet another revolution, I know that He will be with me to guide, protect, bless and correct me no matter what. I then went to bed.
In the morning my mom came into my room, and as is customary we prayed together. <br />
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I spent the rest of the day being pampered and hanging out with my sister. A complete style makeover; hair, courtesy of my mom, manicure and pedicure courtesy of my sister.
When I got home that evening, my dad handed me a birthday card (signed by him, my mom….and yes, Zorro and Karibu…our two dogs). Inside the birthday card, was a CD. This was not just any CD, it was a CD that my dad had singlehandedly put together, titled: “African Music”. The CD is a mix of different songs from the continent, from my Africa. I love it, and so much thought went into it. That’s a CD that will stay with me forever; I should probably even duplicate it and place the original in a safe / capsule of sorts to preserve it – along with his original copy of the Freedom Charter that is now in my possession.<br />
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I found this to be so significant! My dad and I share a love for the same things, and the music of Africa is one of those.
On our way to a family dinner, with my sister, brother, nieces and parents, I played that CD and that music takes me back, back to my childhood. One particular song, is my all-time favourite (well I guess it’s an all-time Khoza family favourite). <br />
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The song is Shauri Yako performed by Orchestra Super Mazembe¸ a band that is considered as the best groups in the golden era of Kenyan Lingala music. Their biggest hit was Shauri Yako a song originally performed by Nguashi Ntimbo and Festival Du Zaire. This song reminds me of my childhood, all the braai’s that my parents would host for family, friends and neighbours. Our house was the party house, with Bra Jimmy and Sis Margaret (as they are affectionately known in our old neighbourhood in Protea North, Soweto. The CD is filled with other great hits that are right up my alley!!<br />
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Thank you God, family and friends for making my birthday spectacular!!!!
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Nyiko J Khozahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18191337290656458525noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2228854954753048734.post-46127402232967330302014-08-28T04:03:00.003-07:002014-08-28T04:03:56.275-07:00My Sister, my Superhero
I feel like I must have won top prize when God was handing out older sisters. I feel like I won the jackpot in the sister lotto!!
I really could not asked for a better sister!!!
Five years my senior, she plays the older sister role very well..I really don't know what would have become of me without her...no I'm serious I mean that lol. Like all that she is and all the the things she does with such zeal and love is really beyond me!
Where would I even start? Or maybe let start me with how she bowled me over today and then I will see what other stories I can manage to fit into this blog entry. Ok so as we speak (or is it as is write?) well anyway... I am on a flight to New York. I had such a busy day. I had planned to leave the office early at about midday, go to the shops quickly, go home and start packing. I eventually only managed to leave the office at 4pm...that did not leave me anytime to go via the shops so I had made peace with the fact that I would just head home and see to finish and make it onetime for my flight.
Then Super-Sister, yes my sister is a superhero, so much so that she deserves her own clothing range with the name Nkateko embroidered on a super-woman kind of top. Anyway back to my story. So my sister calls to ask how I'm doing time-wise and if she can get me anything at the shops and she will drop it off at home. So I simply name three items: a cardigan, black pants and a pair of pumps.
So I get home and start packing and lo and behold my sister walks into the house, comes into my room and all I see is plastic after plastic and in a second there is a large spread on my bed!! Two sweaters, two cardigans, the black pants, and three pairs of pumps!! That's my sister for you...always going far and beyond what you would expect!!
To top it all off, she says she will take me to the airport, together with my parents (I must say that's my dad and moms favorite pastime : taking me to the airport whether I'm flying to a local destination like Bloemfontein or whether it's a long haul flight. Pardon me, I digress that will be the topic of my next blog post) and my two princesses in tow, in their pink pyjamas and fluffy gowns taking their Nani to the airport to get on iBanoyi.
Upon arrival at the airport my super sister insists that we sit and have drinks albeit for ten minutes. So milkshake for Honey, Angel and I, chai tea for super sister and soft drinks for mom and dad. Good family times!! Yeah my sister knows how to make a family occasion out of anything!!
There are innumerable other occasions that I can cite, let me same a few:
- I can show up anytime at her house and I can be guaranteed that I will have a dinner plate with my name on it (or maybe she just knows that I spend like 80 percent of my time there so she better be prepared)
- She always makes me such awesome skaftin, like three course skaftin I tell you
- She is my events planner (she threw a whopper of a 28th birthday party for me!)
- She is always has fun and creative things to do!
- She makes the best food ( on this point I have decided to use her as my benchmark: one day one day when one gets married I'll just request that she tells me what she's cooking for dinner and I will just replicate.... Why reinvent the wheel huh?)
There is not enough room to write about all that my sister is. But today,I just had to out pen to paper (or finger to IPad) and pen down what I have always known: my sister rocks!
Dear Father in Heaven, thank you for my jackpot of a sister (I wonder if this sister-sister relationship is beneficially mutual, in seem to be the taker taker taker in this relationship lol!!). Bless her abundantly, may divine favour chase her and inform everything she does. May she always be the head and never the tail. Always going up and never going down! And may we live to be old old (but still fabulous of course) in Jesus name!
AMENI
PS: funny story. After I had written the above blogpost my niece confirmed the fact that my sister is indeed a superhero. Last week my sister, in an effort to add style and a certain jenais se quoi other outfit, tied a cardigan around her shoulders. My niece then looked at her mom strangely, and whispered to her dad :" Diddi, why is uMama wearing into ka Superman?" Loosely translated, dad, why is mom wearing Superman's cape?
I REST MY CASE
24 July 2014
Nyiko J Khozahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18191337290656458525noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2228854954753048734.post-5427163943014592102014-06-16T11:21:00.000-07:002014-06-16T11:21:59.066-07:00Take a bow Class of 76Freedom.
The word carries so much meaning, especially in societies that have have waged war in the name of Freedom. My beloved South Africa is no different. Just like any other country, South Africa has experienced decades and decades of colonialism as is conventionally understood. The country also experienced a colonialism of a "special" kind in the form of apartheid, with the coming to power of the National Party in 1948.
Many men and women, most notably from the largest NGO in South Africa, the African National Congress sacrificed a lot to contribute to the concerted effort to topple the inhumane and unjust system that saw the majority of the peoples of this land treated like the scum of the earth. Both those who had gone into exile and those that had remained to fight the system from within deserve a special bow.
Today, we celebrate the youth of 1976. We salute the class of 1976 for having the courage to challenge the unjust system,that saw the African child receive an inferior quality of education. Theirs also added to the greater assignment of brining a new dawn to South Africa.
In his book titled Matigari, Ngugi writes "There is no night so long that doesn't end with dawn". Indeed, in 1994 a new dawn had come over the country. Twenty years on, since the dawn of democracy I remember, I reflect,I pay homage to the faithful comrades who contributed to a South Africa where the colour of my skin is not a disadvantage and where my heritage is not an impediment. Of course, a journey of a thousand miles begins with one step, and as a country I believe we still have a long way to go - Yinde Lendlela - in order to effectively eradicate the legacies of the past. But one thing is for sure, we will get there, because the price that was paid for our freedom is too high for us to abandon the ideals of the National Democratic Revolution.
I am sometimes dismayed when I look at the youth of today. As the youth of today, we are reaping the fruits of our predecessors. However, when I look at today's body of youth and how they relate to this priceless Freedom, I am dismayed. Why is it that we have a sense of entitlement, why is it that we are content with drinking our youth away, why is that we don't value education much, why is that we are not interested about current affairs, why is it that are not really abreast of developments on our content?
Of course the questions I pose above, are generalizations, in my life I have met many many of my fellow youth who are actually on top of their game as it relates to the above. Youth who understand the price and value of our Freedom and are committed to taking the baton from our predecessors and continuing the good fight.
I thoroughly enjoyed my Youth Day, today. I spent it in the company of someone that I admire a great deal. Someone who, at the age of 18 left the country and went into exile and returned to SA about 20 odd years later. Our conversation was about life in exile, the ideals that they were working towards,the sacrifices that were made.
I have always believed that had I been born during the height of apartheid, I have no doubt in my mind that I would have gone into exile and received training from the armed wing of the ANC, Umkhonto Wesizwe. If I had chosen to stay, I probably would have been arrested numerous times or placed under house arrest for various altercations in apartheid South Africa.
One thing is for sure...let's step up as today's youth and not betray the Freedom that was so hard won...
Nyiko J Khozahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18191337290656458525noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2228854954753048734.post-37157545817306407992014-05-15T00:48:00.001-07:002014-05-15T00:48:17.160-07:00Pork Legs....and good friends
A few weeks ago, I received a watsapp message from a very good friend of mine telling me that her aunt had passed on to glory. Even though I had never met her, I knew about her and what a big role she had played in my friend, Dimakasto's upbringing and life in general.
I met Dimakatso in 2008, where we were both interns at the same department. We hit if off immediately. I have a pretty good idea why we hit the ground running! Dima, as I call her, is woman of faith, a daughter of the Most High God. So when our paths crossed, I knew that I had found a sister in Christ! Over the years that we have known each other, there have been extended periods of time where we have not seen each other, but the fact that we share the very same foundation, has kept our friendship alive!
After the service, on 20 April 2014, I met her siblings and other family members and it actually felt like I had known these people for as long as I had know Dima. Such a warm family. I ended up spending the afternoon, chilling 'kasi-style' with Dima, her family and their friends. My dear friend insisted that it would be a crime, to come all the way to Atteridgeville and not eat the local delicacy of pork legs, with spice and Worcester sauce.
It was an epic afternoon, as we both sat outside, pork leg in each of our hands and caught up with developments in each others lives over the past four years! It was great to meet her future hubby and some of her future in-laws!!
Dima, I look forward sharing in some of the milestones that lie ahead. I look forward to your housewarming (congratulations to you and Pontsho on the new house!!), I look forward to your wedding, I look forward to welcoming your beautiful future children with Pontsho!!!
Those pork legs were outa this world!!!!!
(I really have been blessed with awesome friends, all of them rock).
Nyiko J Khozahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18191337290656458525noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2228854954753048734.post-35837678545501408102013-12-10T02:17:00.000-08:002013-12-10T02:17:58.344-08:00The Mighty BaobabThe Mighty Baobab has fallen.
I can say with a great degree of certainty that I speak for most South Africans when I say what a blessing it has been to have had a giant walk amongst us. The giant, the mighty Baobab: Nelson Mandela. I can think of no other man who has had such a profound impact on, not only South Africans, but humanity as a whole.
This mighty Baobab, lived to the ripe mold age of 95! I always say that somehow after spending all those years in prison, God had to make it up him by ensuring that he lives past the age of 80! However, even though He was old and had fulfilled his God-given mandate it was still a shock when I was told, on the morning of the 6th of December that the great hero had gone gently into the eternity the night before.
A sense of numbness and bewilderment and perhaps even disorientation overcame me. As I flipped through the various tv channels, both national and international, all I saw was Madiba coverage. As I drove to work that Friday morning, the sky was overcast and threatened rain. It was as though, nature too, was in mourning. On the other hand, in African culture, rain symbolizes blessings, and if it rains before a big event it means that that occasion is surely blessed by the showers from the heavens. So perhaps in a way the overcast sky could have been a symbol of nature's sadness, but the rain, a symbol that indeed we have been blessed to get an opportunity to live in the same lifetime as that of Madiba's.
Only Madiba, can get Cuba and the USA to share a stage. Only Madiba can get Zimbabwe and Britain to share a stage. This is indeed a true reflection of the person that Madiba was, an individual who in death, as in life, is able to bring people from opposite ends of the spectrum to unite for a common cause!
The passing of the Mighty Baobab has affected millions of people. Listening tote radio I have heard many people calling in to share their stories and memories of the Mighty Baobab. And yesterday I was reminded of my own story about Madiba. Even though I have never met him in person, this is my story:
It was 1994. I was 8 years old. I lived in Soweto, Protea North. It was in those days when multiracial schools had just opened their doors to black children. I had just come home from school and when my parents came home from work, I confessed to them and told them that although I know that a persons vote is a secret, I had encouraged all the children in my combi that they should tell their parents that they should vote for the ANC in the upcoming elections so that Nelson Mandela can become President.
In the days leading up to the elections, I remember rallying up all the neighborhood kids and conducting my own version of "voter education for kids" encouraging them to do the right thing and put that X next to the ANC Emblem!!
As I look back, what fascinates me and my parents about this story is that as an 8year old, I had never been "schooled" in politics, no grown up had ever sat me down and explained that in 1994 the first ever democratic elections would be held in SA. Furthermore, for some reason I seemed to have an understanding of our country's electoral system : that one votes for a political party and not an actual individual candidate. Hence, little 8 year old me was able to make the connection that a vote for the ANC was indeed a vote for Nelson Mandela!!!
This points to no other fact,other than that I was born an activist! And have been conducting door to door campaigns since the tender age of 8!
Nelson Mandela, you have bequeathed upon us a legacy of forgiveness, justice, peace, humility and integrity. My prayer is that as South Africans we will continue to strive to create a better life for all, based on the values that you have shown us.
Christ Jesus, had to first die so that we can live. I am by no means comparing you to the Saviour of the world because that would be sacrilegious. But just as through the death of Christ (and ocourse His reassurection) there came life, we pray that your passing will ensure a new dawn for South Africa. May this land of ours never go back, but move forward to bring to life the ideals that you and many that have gone before you have fought for!!!!
I can only imagine, the heroes welcome you received when you walked through the pearly gates into eternity. What a thunderous applause you must have received as our late heroes such as Oliver Tambo, Chris Hani, Walter Sisulu, Steve Biko, Kwame Nkrumah, Thomas Sankara, Samora Mâchel, stood to salute you!!!!Nyiko J Khozahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18191337290656458525noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2228854954753048734.post-29410354126193031522013-12-09T07:01:00.001-08:002013-12-09T07:01:40.717-08:00In Christ!In Christ, there is restoration.
As people, we are on a journey. We may not be of the world, but yet we live in the world. The world can be a pretty hostile place to find yourself in, especially if you are not of it. The Bible tells us that although we live in the world, we ought not to live as people of the world. We are children of the light, citizens of heaven, and ambassadors of heaven on earth.
Despite, this truth that I have just mentioned above, at times we may find ourselves – even the most vigilant people- having temporarily blurred the line between ‘citizens of the world’ and ‘citizens of heaven’. But the good thing is that that internal compass that always points to our eternal home is forever on. That internal compass will forever and continually point us in the direction of home. So no matter how much or how long we may lived between the blurred lines, that compass will always speak to us to remind us of our actual citizenship in the Kingdom of God.
Okay, I think I’m speaking in riddles here, but what I am trying to say is that as people, we may sometimes falter, lose our way, take the wrong turn away from the path that God has set before us. The path that God wants us, as His children to walk is one that is based on principles and obedience to His Word. All of this is for our good, for God knows the plans He has for us, plans to prosper us and not to harm us, plans to give us hope and a future.
Now, what I truly love about this God, is that not only does HE love us – but HE IS LOVE! When we come to him he is quick to forgive, He doesn’t hold our shortcomings against us. Isaiah 44:21-22 reads as follows: Israel, I created you, and you are my servant. I won’t forget you. Turn back to me! I have rescued you and swept away your sins as though they were clouds.
Therefore, we can have confidence that when we approach His throne we can be sure that HE will restore whatever has been lost, broken or stolen from us (even if it has been our fault!). He is the God of new beginnings. He is the God of restoration! And when God restores, He makes our situations even better than before!! This is captured so well in the book of Isaiah: " Instead of bronze I will bring gold; instead of iron I will bring silver; instead of wood, bronze; and instead of stones, iron. I will make peace your governor and righteousness your taskmaster."
So be bot discouraged, there is hope and restoration at the throne of the Most High, the Lord of Heaven's Armies!
Nyiko J Khozahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18191337290656458525noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2228854954753048734.post-29679066388844175672013-12-02T07:37:00.003-08:002013-12-02T07:37:42.681-08:00MFP Manifestation It was just over a year ago, when Gugu and I launched MFP (Mega Faith Project). It was on a Tuesday after cell group and we were just having a wild conversations about some of our aspirations and dreams that would be fueled by mega faith and work!
Well, God being God has surely delivered, a few short months after the launch of MFP, Gugu was proposed to and that was the beginning of the manifestation of what we were were ( and still are) believing God for!! The year has flown by at great speed and in just five short days, 7 December 2013, Gugu will walk down the aisle and marry her man, Mzwandile.
My MFP partner, I wish you all of the very best as you prepare for your wedding day and your marriage!! I pray that God will bless you and Mzwandile as you build your home on the foundation and Rock that is Christ Jesus! May you both continue to prosper!
I look forward to Saturday, and am speechless at your request for me to co-MC your wedding!Screaming inside with utter excitement!!! But I promise that I will not be speechless on the big day!!!!
I look forward to the next leg of MFP!
See you Friday MRS Mathebula!!!
Forward always with MFP!
PS: Even though we fell asleep rather quickly, I thoroughly enjoyed our 'last' sleepover!! Nyiko J Khozahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18191337290656458525noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2228854954753048734.post-18539720886745613452013-12-01T08:48:00.003-08:002013-12-01T08:48:44.051-08:00More than a day job!
Every time I do my job, I thank God for my job!!
Truly, it feels like its more than an 8-16:30 kind of thing. Of course it has it's challenges like any other job/career I guess, but for the most part this is what I was born to do. This career is absolutely me!!
For as long as I can remember I have had this deep interest in all things that are to do with my continent, I am proud to have been born on this continent! I am passionate about Africa, about her advancement, about her development. The diverse people, the cultures, the way of life....all of it just grips me!
For as long as I can remember I have wanted to travel, to travel within in Africa specifically! And man I feel blessed because my job entails exactly that!
I work on issues that speak directly to Africa's development and as such I get to couple two of my passions : AFRICA and traveling.
Each time I touch down in a different African city- Addis Ababa, Nairobi, Johannesburg, Lagos, Accra, Monrovia, Dakar - in cannot help but feel a wave of something that I cannot accurately describe; not because I lack enough vocabulary to capture and articulate the feeling, but because I believe there are not enough words to accurately describe this feeling!!
Well only my Creator, my God could have had a hand in this! Big up to Him!
This is only the beginning, as in my own way I endevour to make a modest contribution to this, our Africa. I continue to be inspired by African greats, past and present, such as Nkrumah, Nyerere, Sankara, Madiba, Mbeki.Nyiko J Khozahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18191337290656458525noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2228854954753048734.post-81324313444219653452013-12-01T08:45:00.004-08:002013-12-01T08:45:20.254-08:00Monrovia to Accra: Conversations What a strange thing it is when two souls collide. Okay, thats a bit of an exaggeration, but that is how I feel anyway. Let me start at the beginning.
So, it's the morning of 4 October 2013 and I'm at Roberts International Airport in Liberia. I've checked in, the flight is delayed and so we I am sitting at the Protocol Lounge. The flight eventually arrives and I'm led to the the waiting area. As I'm sitting in the lounge, there's this captivating lady that I just can't stop staring at. Theres just something that draws me to her. I decide to stop staring In case she thinks I'm some kind of stalker.
So we leave the lounge and I make peace with the fact that I did not have an opportunity to strike up conversation. She heads out gets on the bus to the flight and I get on a different car to the plane.
By the time I get on the flight, it's full and so I make my way to my seat, 16 C. But when I get to my designated seat, there's a huge guy who looks like an igwe (this is a flight to Lagos by the way ) there already. So I decide to take the seat on the other side of the aisle, 16 D. And to my surprise, the lady in 16 E is the very same lady I had so wanted to strike up a casual conversation with inside the airport!!!!!!!!
To cut a long story short, we start talking. That was such a pleasant conversation. In the 90 minutes that we had from Liberia to Ghana she basically told me her life story: growing up in Liberia, living in Guinea as a refugee because of the civil war, how she met her husband, her daughter, her life in the States. She may only be 30 but she has he wisdom and the soul of someone way much older. Her story was captivating, enthralling!!!
Sometimes God communicates with us using random strangers, I believe that there are certain things that I was meant to take away from that divine meeting and conversation. And indeed there are certain things that I have learnt and will pass on to others.
We arrived in Accra and she had to disembark, as I write this, I'm continuing to Lagos. I normally read or sleep during flights, but she was great company. Small world this, who knows, Choco and I may meet again....
(Okay, now I'm sitting next to some random guy who is snoring terribly, not sure what I'm meant to take away from that, lol. Oh boy this is gonna be a looooong flight to Lagos!! )Nyiko J Khozahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18191337290656458525noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2228854954753048734.post-29163203817063352652013-08-12T03:16:00.001-07:002013-08-12T03:16:16.593-07:00J-O-Y
If someone were to ask me what song would best serve as the soundtrack of my life at this point, it would have to be ‘Joy’ by the group, The Soil. This is because inexpressible joy seems to be oozing out of every part of my being! There is this “feeling” deep inside my soul, inside my being, that I cannot not even begin to describe because I think that I would not do justice to it! The best I can do is to call it what it is, and that is J-O-Y!
I am very deliberate in the choice of word I am deciding to call this state of being that I am in. I do not refer to it as a feeling, because feelings are fleeting, but a state of being is more solid, it more fixed, it is more permanent. I am not referring to it as happiness, because in my view happiness is more often than not linked to a set of circumstances whereas joy is something that you can possess regardless of your circumstances, whether they be good or bad! Joy may have an element of happiness but the two terms are not, well in my view anyway, synonymous.
It is as though I went to bed one evening harbouring the world’s worries in my heart and carrying all its challenges on my shoulders, and woke up the next morning a completely refreshed being. A being whose burdens have been taken away, a soul whose anxieties have been allayed!
It is not to say that one no longer faces challenges or no longer grapples with certain issues, but despite these challenges and issues, I have joy in my heart! I think that I am beginning to know, truly know the meaning of the verse in the book of Philippians that calls on us to Rejoice in the Lord. I say it again Rejoice in the Lord! This peace that I have in my heart, this joy that I possess could only can from my God, who supplies all my needs! He has given me what I needed most: peace and joy.
I have this joy, in the Lord; for I know that no weapon formed against me shall prosper. I know that my God has got my back (this is what I have been teaching my Children’s Church Class)! I know that what my God has planned for my life is beyond what I could even expect in my wildest dreams for He said in His Word that no ear has heard, no eye has seen and no mind has conceived the good things that God has prepared for those who love him. I am further convinced that my God is faithful and what He says about me shall come to be, in His perfect timing He shall expedite it! Though it linger, it shall certainly come. It shall not delay!
I’ve got joy in my heart and I know its wonderful feeling followed by a sense of healing….*Singing, Singing*
Signed,
One Joyful Lady!
Nyiko J Khozahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18191337290656458525noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2228854954753048734.post-85176514482502248202013-08-08T00:44:00.000-07:002013-08-08T00:44:16.823-07:00Finally; We Did ItFinally we did it, Musa and Rhulani!! (I just hope we can sustain it)
For some unexplainable reason we always seem to find ourselves dwindling our fingers during the festive season, wondering why on earth we did not plan to do something exciting like get out of Joburg and go on holiday! I recall countless post-December 25 occasions when it has suddenly dawned on us that “hang on we have made no plans for New Years Eve and New Years Day”!!
You know, when we were younger and had no choice but to go where our parents go during the festive season that was fine, it was acceptable because hey a) we had no money, b) we had no cars and whatever else is needed to go on vacation! So back in the day our festive season comprised of being at an uncle/aunts home, chill with the other kids – our cousins- who might I add are at least ten years our juniors. We also knew that our responsibility was to wash the dishes after the Christmas meal, the New Years Eve braai and the New Years Day lunch. Musa, you always preferred to wash the dishes, Rhulani you jumped at the opportunity of packing the dishes (I must say, what a smart choice, that’s the least amount of work!) and I was stuck / chose to dry the dishes (in hindsight that wasn’t such a smart decision because drying dishes is such a daunting task). After that task we would sit and plan our futures and made pacts that one day we will break free hahahaha!
But hey we had no issues with that, because we were caught in between a rock and a hard place: not young enough to chill with and go running around the yard and playing touches with our younger cousins (although I’m pretty sure we did do that) and not old enough to determine our own December itinerary. But hey, those were good times, enjoyable!
Hmmm, I remember that first year when we decided to set our own agenda for the festive season, it was 2009/10 if I’m not mistaken. We decided that we would all sleep at my house and wake up early in the morning and head to Sun City on New Year’s Day (since as you would know my house is closer to Suncity *serious face*). The night before we packed, got ready and planned our departure set for 8am. Then the unimaginable happened!!! We woke up to see on the news that the Suncity general workers were on strike, they were blocking the road to Suncity in protest!! Man were we disappointed!! So we said bye bye to our Suncity Dream ----it was a dream deferred! Our very first attempt was diffused faster than hot butter melts on a stove, faster than you can say Hapeeeeee Hapeeee!!
From then onwards man we fumbled at making future Festive Season plans. We went from one disaster to the next. I remember the New Years Day spent at Gold Reef City Theme Park (well at least we got to go on the anaconda multiple times since the theme wasn’t that full – all the people that usually go there during the year had actually made other plans. I mean really, who goes to a theme park on the 1st day of the year when they can go all year round? I mean if it was Disney Land that would have been a different story. Then there was the New Years Day we spent at the movies!! Really watching a movie at Ster-Kinekor on the 1st day of the year???? I’m not even going to comment on the loser-status of that activity on New Year’s Day. Then there was that New Years Day that we spent at a restaurant at the buffet table. Wow it would seem we had mastered the technique of starting every year on an anti-climax! Then when would could go no deeper in this deep barrel of our disappointing Festive Seasons, we would actually google “things to do on New Year’s Day”….that in itself did not yield any results we could follow through.
But then our fortune changed! We ended 2012 with a bang and entered into 2013 in a way that we had been dreaming about since we were 16!! For the first time we managed to successfully organize a December getaway – we had moved from mere rhetoric to action!! (Although I must say it’s thanks to Tercia otherwise would have still been wallowing in our despair and on our lack of action). On December 27, 2013 we planned to assemble at a central spot. We had our bags packed, we decided that we would wake up at 3am and hit the road at 4am! I appointed myself as the timekeeper and sure enough in the wee hours of the early morning at around 4:15am we were all in the car and ready to hit the road!! I must say that our parents and cousins couldn’t believe that we had eventually broken the proverbial yolk and that we would be ending the year with a bang, in our own way!!! I must say that I too could not believe that we had actually done it until I saw the sign that read: Welcome to eThekwini!!
That was an awesome week, spent relaxing, going out and doing exactly what we wanted to do when we wanted to do it! The best day I must say was New Years Day ----we spent the entire day in bed, ordered pizza, watched movies, walked back and forth between our adjoining rooms—basically recovering from the dancing we had done the on New Year’s Eve on the roof of some building, with an awesome view of the Durban skyline by moonlight! Much as we spent the day in bed, it was one of the best times!!!!
Now, ladies we have set ourselves a challenge. We can’t disappoint ourselves this year….we need to start planning lest we find ourselves relegated to the league of washing, drying and packing the dishes after the Festive Season meals!
Nyiko J Khozahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18191337290656458525noreply@blogger.com0