Asking for Donations

Posted: September 9, 2015 in Uncategorized

Girl Granduer Zimbabwe (Bulawayo Chapter) has undertaken an initiative to assist disadvantaged young people who were rehabilitated from the streets into Thuthuka Home in Trenance. Unfortunately some of the young people have gone back to the streets because they are used to the life and are selling their bodies. GGZ Byo has committed itself to sustainably meet the needs if the remaining 5girls and 15boys who face challenges from sanitary wear, undergarments, clothes and even shoes.

Therefore, we are appealing to the Girl Granduer Zimbabwe community to assist us as we gather resources for these young people. We are looking forward to buying reusable pads and educating the young ladies on how to use and even make them for themselves and we are looking forward to providing the young men with panties/briefs. This requires a contribution of about $5 per person once off though any other amount is also welcome. Contributions in cash can be sent through EcoCash to 0774885446 an account belonging to Audrey Murenvi. Clothes are also very welcome as contributions and the drop off point is at BES College which is at the corner of George Silundika and 10th Avenue where you look for Miss T Gwinji.

No amount is too small, lets do our part before the 2nd of October 2015.

The Big Bad Wolf

Posted: July 6, 2015 in Uncategorized

The Written Word by Thandie

Along came Cinderella, or was it Miss riding hood? Aah yes her. The one in the red hood. Stylish at a tender age.

Besides the point though. Along came Little Red Riding hood. Ever thought of how fascinating that tale is? The joys of being a child; your only concern being whether Miss Red will stand the test of time. We all know the big bad wolf was dying to have his share of miss red’s probably 12.4% alcohol wine. And that yummy piece of cheese cake; probably chocolate mousse, in case grandmother had an allergy to eggs or my personal favourite, black forest,  that mother had popped into a basket. Because had he been craving for some Miss Red only, she wouldn’t have made it to her grandmother’s house. I will not get into detail about how it came to be that a wolf wanted cake. That is beyond my IQ…

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you are dreamy like Thor, you punch sends mum to a comma


A note of caution for Father’s Day:

Dear Daddy,

You are my superhero.

You are clever like X-men and you always have a story to cover up your lies.

You can climb walls like Spiderman so that noone knows what time you come home.

You wear a cloak of deceit like Batman and only go out at night so noone can see you.

You are strong like the Incredible Hulk when you throw mum against the wall.

You are like the Invisible Man whenever we need help, we can never find you.

You are handsome like Superman and always fly from mum to your girlfriends.

I don’t know which superhero makes people cry, but maybe that is just your superpower.

When I grow up, dad, I want to be just like you……..

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I have no comment whatsoever

Posted: June 22, 2015 in Uncategorized

The Written Word by Thandie

Cry the beloved country, for your country is a joke! Fall to the ground, wail! Tear your clothes mourn! Safa saphela isizwe esimnyama! For we destroy ourselves single handedly.

Remember the Catholic prayer, Lord gracious hear us. Or Jesus’ prayer, forgive them for they do not know what they are doing? And the now misapplied, misinterpreted words…let the children come to me…and no the average paedophile is not represented by the pronoun.

Let me not throw my tantrum without explanation.

So the Honourable Prosecutor-General Tomana says 16 is an unreasonable age of consent. Hallelujah! A voice of reason at last! He further asserts that it should be lowered to 12. I refuse to comment. The Honourable Prosecutor-General has every right to his opinion and I am not qualified to insult the Honourable one.

Mina zwi. Inini zi hangu

My comment is reserved.

I will not comment until the nation is on…

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When I take it off

Posted: April 9, 2015 in Uncategorized

One thing you have to understand that from the moment I board the kombi on my way back from work, I immediately start stripping it all off. Sitting inside that kombi I begin to get rid of my armor and shield. First its my earrings (lol yes I wear stud earrings), then my necklace and watch.

From then on, I wait for the kombi to drop me off. First of all you have to understand that I stay approximately 300metres away from the bus stop. But this estimate has never bothered me before, because from the moment I drop off, the shoes come off. As I step on the tarred road, my soft feet cringe against the oiled the stones. Well this is also good for my stresses, it is very therapeutic I recommend that you try it. 300metres I walk bare footed. I hardly look at the people, all I can see are the white asbestos of the place I call home. Subconsciously the top part of my cardigan jersey starts to drop from one shoulder, am almost there.

From the moment I walk into the house I change from the “tight”, “sexy”, “stylish” clothes that I have to wear for the world. And I wear my Eveline tracksuit (six years later, I still have it, believe it or not). It has seen its days, the zippers no longer work and the right side is burnt just a little bit. After that I go to the bathroom and wash off the Vaseline I used in the morning. (You have to understand my friends and family read this blog, so I cannot lie and say that I remove all traces of make-up, because everyone knows that I don’t apply make-up”.

So back to my Vaseline, I remove that and go to the couch without shoes, beautiful clothes or make up. This is it, this is the feeling I have been waiting for, all day. The feeling of knowing am safe. Feeling at home, feeling at peace. This is it for me. You have to understand that my measure of success is having a peace of mind. So away from the world, in my torn tracksuit I know I am successful.

Point to this whole blog is that from the moment we wake up, everything we do is in preparation for a fight. We fight the germs in bathing and brushing our teeth. We fight skin diseases and skin cancer by oiling our skin. We fight conservatism and the dirty stares by wearing “decent” clothing. We fight by adding extra “approved” layers of skin with the make-up we use. The world is tough, it is for the fighters, and it is for the hunters it is for the hustlers out there. Just like Little Red riding hood we wear red coats to keep us safe from the weather and also more attractive to the wolf. When we live our little havens we call home, the battle begins. Survival of the fittest and all other clichés that describe the “big bad world”

So to all those that stare when I begin to take it off, listen to me. As the kombi draws nearer to home, I begin to take off my suit and armor, I begin to put down the weapons. I begin to take it off. I do not need it anymore. So do not look at me like I am crazy when I walk, that 300metres barefooted.  I am going home.

Inspired by the Whatsapp message that read, “come over, you do not need to look pretty for us. It’s just us girls chilling”.

And that’s my Thabi Thabi perspective!!!!!!!!!

Said one man to his ego….

Posted: December 5, 2014 in Uncategorized

why on earth would we listen to conscience – she is a woman.


Said one man to his ego….

(A dramatic piece filled with irony and truth.)

Dear Ego,

I am sorry we haven’t spoken for a while and I am sure you are feeling neglected. The thing is I have a bit of a dilemma.

I have been doing amazingly well, sorry my dear Ego, I should say, ‘we’ have been doing amazingly well. Of course we both want to celebrate our achievements and encourage other people to celebrate our achievements as well. We want to post selfies, update our status about all the fabulous places we have visited, update our CV, be seen at all the new bars in town, get complimentary tickets and tweet about how fantastic we are. But, Conscience is being grumpy. Conscience says that you and I are now a little ‘out of control’. She is worried that we are putting ourselves at risk by being so…

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1000 hands filled cake

Posted: November 5, 2014 in Uncategorized

Yesterday I got a chance to experience one of the most beautiful things about Zimbabwe. I got into a space filled with love and appreciation, we did not even need to know each other’s names. All we knew was the cake had to be carried.

My love for the kombi

It’s amazing that I always get inspiration inside a kombi, but I believe that, that is the real Zimbabwe unedited… The small car fit for 15 passengers that always carries 20-22 instead. That is where Zimbabweans become Zimbabweans.

Back to the cake story… sitting at the backseat with her baby and other groceries was an ecstatic woman that had bought her first born a birthday cake. Thing was she could not carry the cake because the infant she was carrying kept hoping she would get a bite of the cream-ish delight before it got home. So that is how the cake began its journey inside the 1000 hands filled with love.

“lethani ngilibambele kodwa ngizayehla kathesi,” was the initial spark..

***I can hold the cake for you but I will be dropping off soon translation

From that moment on the cake began its journey. As one person held the cake they would chat to the ecstatic mother who was so proud of the cake she bought with her last $6.50 to spare. On and on, it exchanged hands as people got off. Cake became the discussion in the kombi. Cake became the borne of contention in the kombi when the driver decided to speed. No longer where we afraid of our lives. All the insults and promises for fists fights where rounded up with, “how dare he almost destroy ‘our’ cake. The cake became part of the community. It united faceless, nameless strangers. The cake made us one. The cake made us all proud for the mother that had decided to use her last $6.50 to make her daughter’s birthday special. The cake brought out hidden emotions such as compassion, love and care that poverty, seems to have robbed us off.

At this moment I still had not held the cake and I was a tad bit disappointed. Lami I wanted my hands to fill that cake with love. So as the old man dropped off, a bus stop just before mine. The cake was handed to me. You should have seen my goofy grin. I would finally become part of the team that had sent words of encouragement to the mother, sent birthday wishes to the child. I was finally part of the hands that “filled the cake with love”. I was part of it all. So to the owner of the cake. Happy birthday.

I still love my kombi rides home.

#Treasuredmoments. And that is my Thaby Thaby perspective!!!!!

Shut Up!

Posted: July 31, 2014 in Uncategorized

beautiful piece.. i love it


Comfort Mussa Comfort Mussa

By Comfort Mussa

Do not discuss me

Like you do war zones:

I am not a basket case.

When you’re done analyzing my body,

Concluding my breasts are ironed and vagina mutilated,

You glance at my brain.

Hmm good relief.

Why bother?

Why see only what ‘covers’ my brain?

Yes, I wear my hair natural –

Now what?

It’s the only part of my body not tampered with,


Even as the rest of me was prepared for you,

For your consumption–


In this constituency, my body, only one vote counts.

I won’t wait for you to shut up

I know better, now.

I’ll listen to me. I have something brighter

I’ll go and have a chat with my sisters.

If our laughter draws you in, feel free to pull a seat outside the window and learn–


This piece was written during the African…

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double digit blogs later and i am a happy girl. it has been a long journey with this blogging business. i remember my first day on this blog page. hahaha like always it crashed and i was left drained and sad because i wouldn’t be able to meet the target that was set. 25 blogs sounded like a lot of work and every one that knows me know that i am lazy

in my blogging journey i have been able to connect with other fellow bloggers

i have been able to have a following. i have enjoyed the compliments that have come from family and friends. talking about the masterpieces i that i post on this blog. i also have had friends and family that have taken up the role of being my editor. thing is  i usually do not proof read my blogs and thanks to this angles they have been able to correct me every time i make a mistake. even though i never say it out loud i am grateful.

i also remember the fights that i have had with the most important people in my life when they do not find time to comment or read my blogs. see i also like it when people compliment me. it is part of my love language. i a

Video  —  Posted: April 16, 2014 in Uncategorized