And so I became a ho (Part 1)

One day I realised that for way too many of the wrong years I wasn’t having sex but I’d been raped most of the time. It sucks. I was so shocked, I was feeling like maybe I should just die.

I couldn’t believe that I consider myself a person after people had just violated my body and raped me like I’m not a whole person to say no and be left alone. I wanted to die. I still feel that way sometimes, like I should just die because every day, everywhere I exist – not everywhere I go but wherever I dare to take up some space and exist – people rape me.

I grew up being made to feel like if I express my explicit desire to fuck, I’m gross. I’m wrong, I’m not doing what ladies do. Makes me wonder if that means ladies must be raped and never have sex?

I had q’wuestions.

I started to wonder what the fuck kind of fucked up shit is this? After all that time I’d spent being violated. I thought that the way “sex” happens is that someone kinda forces me to do it, that’s what they mean when they say that we shouldn’t come out right and want to fuck. I stopped hanging out with rapists a long time ago; I stopped chilling out and talking to men like they’re not some kind of “psycho” who’s just plotting to rape me eventually.

That previous sentence isn’t even a lie. Every time a nigga steps to me I think he’s just trying to buy time before he can rape me. Then people want to talk shit and be insensitive about rape like we’re talking about someone breaking your windscreen – a whole human life being treated like some fuck thing from a bin?

I am angry, I’m angry and bitter as fuck! And whenever a dude is trying to talk to me about MY body and what to do with MY self?! As if it is not my very existence the reason that I’m being raped – not that I was drunk out of my mind and wearing tight clothes.


This is about weaponised sex

I used to be a nymphomaniac because subspace was the only way I could live through my depression.

What do I become after an assault on my being?

Recently someone who raped me came up as a suggested connection on my LinkedIn profile and I was very upset by that. But the anger/annoyance/whatever-that-feeling-was-that-I’ve-been-avoiding-all-my-(post rape)-life was quickly replaced by confusion.

Am I a victim? 

As far as I [was] concerned, I was a victim during the rape. Right? Aren’t we all victims of a crime for the duration of said crime, and after that we go back to being who we [are] because the crime is over and we shouldn’t hold onto to it as though the crime inflicted upon us is the end of life as we know it. Isn’t that how it happens?

Shouldn’t I become a survivor now?

To come back (from hell) stronger. To be like society (all of you), unbothered by what has happened – move and get over it. To tell myself everyday that shit happens and not wonder about how I might have been different had that man not fucked me against my will? I mean, other things could’ve happened to create the person I am today, right? Why should I be holding on to some rape situation like that’s the defining moment of my life?

I don’t identify with either of these labels. I don’t. 

I didn’t lose to a rapist because for that moment all my autonomy was gone, my humanity disregarded, my existence nothing but a tool. I didn’t lose, I’m not a loser and he has not defeated me.

And I sure as hell am not moving on like it’s something to simply just “get over”. 


It’s okay to be hurt and traumatised and angry and not let it go.

I’ll never not be angry, and sad. I refuse to feel weak even though that’s what happened – I was weak, I couldn’t protect myself. 


Maybe someone else feels like this and we can make it normal to be neither victim nor survivor. To be angry black women who want to #KillAllMen.

So I have this problem, right?

This has been a great year for me, btw.

I’ve decided to take the #KillAllMen approach of feminism, which I will explain to you in the future. But first I should tell you about this problem I have which led me to join the #KillAllMen battalion of the feminist army.

I have learned that all oppressors and people in privileged positions know exactly what is going on, and therefore I need not waste my energy educating anyone about their oppressive ways, nor about the advantages they enjoy at the expense of everyone else. THEY KNOWWWW BETTER. This started when racism became a thing to me (Only after I moved to South Africa  did I see white people treating indigenous citizens as though the latter’s presence in their own home is a disturbance to the former’s life..) Anyway, I surfed twittersphere to get a feel of racism from people who’ve been living consciously with it much longer than I have. 

Silent tweeting, twatching, scrolling and getting lost in this world I saw some very interesting people and I found exactly what i was looking for – critical discussions about race, call out culture on fleek and Black Twitter getting racists fired from their jobs. So many insights and leads for me to follow to find great writings on the race situation in the world. It was great. When I was satisfied, I had to find out how these spaces behaved around feminist conversation. 

Okay, so the problems now. Confusion. Self doubt. WTF-ness all around.

When I saw these women’s liberation conversations happen, I noticed something strange. That the same people who don’t want to be racisted want to sexist women.

Hau? Guys?

Weren’t we fighting for everyone to be free?

When did it become a fight for your freedom alone? 

I was doubting myself. Is feminism really a thing that is necessary? Maybe they’re right, I’m trying to break up the black family so that I run away with a white man and enjoy the economic benefits he reaps from [my] black man’s sweat. Maybe feministing is just another tool of white racism to divide and conquer the black community. Maybe feministing is just another route away from my culture, the way things should be. I’m running farther and farther away from my roots. Maybe through feministing I have lost my way… 

That is how the black man made me feel about wanting to be released from under his foot – that I was betraying my blackness. That was my problem.

BYE BYE 2014

Hi there, it’s been a really great year for me and it just got better! But I’m not writing this here post to floss about my good life, I just have a few unrelated things to tell you about because my 2015 is beginning soon & I’m making this an official New Year’s resolutions post.

Welcome to my amazing life. 

I’ve been unfortunate enough to have intimate interactions with ignorant people, and it was life testing my commitment to growing myself and spreading the gospel – but one tires of giving lectures instead of engaging in conversations. There’s accepting different opinions and then there is over-exposing self to unnecessary nonsense.

Disease: IDIOTITIS. Causes the brain to shut down and the mouth to keep talking. Thousands affected. Might be contagious. Best Defense: Slap & Run

The encounters exposed to me that I indeed have grown this year. I have become more patient, less judgmental but too accommodating of bullshit. I learned that I hang on too long to the hope that people will grow/change for the better even when it is very evident that they seem to be comfortable in their ignorance and stupid opinions (totally a judgmental thing to say, but whatever, I said it).

I’ve been blessed with absolutely marvelous people as well, and luckily they outnumber the exposure to agents of idiotitis in my life this year.

There is Emma, such a brilliant writer. (I love her a lot). She inspires me in so many ways to embrace things like my awesomeness and (grumpily) the unkind facts of life.

There’s Jaja, super-super cool gentleman. His blog is a necessity in my life. And he’s been a kind and supportive energy and I’ve learned from him that patience is what makes everything okay. And DETACHMENT! OH MY GOD that is the deepest life hack – KNOW WHEN TO LET GO! Thanks J

There’s my mother, who’s become a little too nice this year. Maybe it is what parents do as I (or they?) grow older. But she’s been very great and supportive of my efforts to greatness. I just wanna give her a special shout out like this is a radio show: “Ke dumedisa mama ko satafrikha, le bo nnake” Yeah. Thank you.

There’s also my sisters (weirdos.) and my friends who remain my friends despite my selfish approach to friendships. They still text me back when I occasionally get over myself and acknowledge their existence, thanks guys. 

Okay, the resolutions now

I did start to read more this year! I really did and I am very proud of myself, I started late in the year but I did!!!! I hope with the new year I will be able to express my personal socio-political opinions like someone who actually knows what she is talking about. That’s really why I made my blog, so I could write about what I believe in and how it could be real for a lot of people.. …how I live it. 

I Will.

Other things were regular exercise (hahahaha, you know you didn’t either) and getting a job (I’m formally employed now, twice). AND I’m taking responsibility for my future and actually doing my school work, so it’s been a good year.

2015 for me begins next month, I’ll be book-worming and initiating a new attempt to incorporate regular exercise into my lifestyle.

“Be Your Self”

This may be cliche, but it’s true. That sentence is also cliched. The best advice I have ever received is “Be your self”. Why? Because it got me thinking, about my self & everything around me.

1. Who or What is this Self I Am supposed to be?

This is the most difficult question I will ever ask myself in the history of questions. It would take less energy to answer infinite WHYs that it does to answer this one WHO. Who am I? I know my name, age, where  I live, etc. I also know that I am funny; intelligent, beautiful on the inside, compassionate & other things like impatient & cruel. I know that I like to write and I love chocolate and unsweetened tea.. so, who am i?

a) A tea-drinking, chocolate-loving masturbator

b) A dork of a sister and misbehaving (I think my folks use disrespectful, ungrateful, etc) daughter

c) A person who has trouble talking to people who don’t listen

So many questions come from the WHO part of being WHO I AM. It is even more complicated by the fact of this ‘globalization’ thing. I see too many people being what I like and maybe want to be, but my immediate environment does not allow for that. Is who I am not determined or influenced by where I am?

Who am I?

I am different with the seasons. I am happy in the rainy season, irritable in the summer and very impatient in the winter. Sometimes I forget that I change like that and I become a little surprised at my behavior when it changes.

the difference between who you are & who you want to be, is what you do ~ Unknown

That got me thinking some more, is who I am defined by what I do? Should my identity be the one to determine my actions? All this is confusing, or maybe I am complicating it.

What I do know is that I will be the me I feel I am in the current season and if I don’t like being impatient because of the winter – I’ll work at changing that. I find it so difficult to identify who I am, I still have no idea what it means to be who I Am. I’m fine with that, because i can change it when ever I feel like I want to feel differently, or be another me.

SADE – The Love of my Life

For Day 7 of the Writer’s Boot Camp we were prompted to write about an art(iste) who inspires self. I have three words for you: Helen Folasade Adu

I think my introduction should be who she is, what she does & why she does it before I tell you why she inspires me. She is the leader of a band named after her – Sade – a jazz band whose music is so soulful in lyric & instruments. When a Sade song is flowing through the speakers you have to sit still & feel your soul dancing in every inch of your body.. You have to experience it.
I fell in-love with the band when my heart broke, (I was 16y/o and completely sure that he & I were to spend the rest of our lives together). The theme song to my heartache is Is it a Crime
I played this song over & over & over for almost two years while I struggled to figure out why I was so bad and why I loved him despite his being so unkind, and cruel to me. Until this one day when I started to sing-a-long the way I always did, in tears, but the tears didn’t fall. I was over it. My heart was mended.


They became my Soulmate. I found a new love who would never let me down.

During the two years that my heart was being repaired by her soul & the jazz band, I discovered more & more of their music. My heart only grew bigger, I needed more love to pour out of me for the sake of loving them enough. I looked her up on the internet, the gorgeous Helen – I see her alone as Helen, something about the name matches her face so well – to find a lengthy interview where she would pour her heart out and tell me why she knows my pain so well.
The longest one I found is about 21 minutes long and she is in it more than what I could’ve imagined her to be. Her energy is serenity. She is peace. She is Sade. MY favorite thing she said in this interview, and when she said it she said this directly to my heart – “…No, never give up on Love…”
Sade inspired me to believe in love. After she said that I stopped thinking of Love as related only to romance or sex, Love means so much more than that to me. Love means appreciating anything which makes my heart want to grow bigger, to create more heart-space to let love in.

I’m kind enough to share this interview with you.

As she sang in Hang on to Your Love:
“So if you want it to get stronger you gotta not let go/
You gotta hold on longer if you want your love to grow”