uMwizerwa wa Ngoboka

Part 1, My opinion I studied advanced level (grade 10-12) at an all-girls science and tech school, Gashora Girls Academy of Science and Technology (GGAST). It is assumed by people who know the school that everyone who studies at GGAST is a feminist. I proudly consider myself a feminist, however I don’t believe in labels; so most time I would rather not be called feminist. Feminism to me is the need for gender equity. The bottom line is; women should be considered human above all. In most systems of oppression, the oppressed is first treated as the other, lesser human. This makes it easier for the oppressor to do the oppressing while suppressing their conscience that condemns the actions. One day, on my way to a debate camp, I argued with a guy on feminism. I don’t like arguing by nature, but I can’t let anyone bully me into accepting their beliefs. For two hours we argued that some things are meant to be done by women and others are not. He talked about female anatomy and...

This is to celebrate the man of my life- my father. Just recently I started naming my blogs and social media uMwizerwa wa Ngoboka, Mwizerwa being my name that means trustworthy and Ngoboka my father’s name that loosely translates into “help me” A friend of mine once asked me why I don’t write about my father or talk a lot about him- I was at a loss of words. I couldn’t explain to him the relationship I have with my father, no words can. If I believed in role models, he would be mine- but I don’t- so he is just someone I admire and would love to grow up to be as successful as he is. One of my childhood memories with my father was when he would pick me up and I almost touched the ceiling. I would freak out every time he did it, my fear of heights is from way back, but I loved it nevertheless. My father is the reason why I love reading and writing. When I was a tender child of less than five years old, he brought home books for us to read. I didn’t know how to read and I woul...

I recently bought a journal called my dysfunctions, and it is the most amazing purchase I have made so far. It states that everyone has a certain level of insanity, and that recognising it is the highest level of self awareness. The first prompt was “ Sanity is a cozy lie” and the prompt I love the most is “statistics say that 1 in 3 americans has mental illness, look at your two best friends, if they are okay, then you are the crazy one. I guess my friends are lucky that I am the crazy one, as they don’t have to worry about being crazy. Below, I am going to write some of the most hilariously crazy stuff I have done. I was going to take my medication. I had a bottle of water and a bottle of nail polish remover, instead of drinking the water, I drank the nail polish remover. #worst experience ever. I went to recitation with my phone, was feeling a little bit tired, but I had essays to write, so I rushed to Hayden, the library. Once I was at the entrance, I couldn’t find my phone....

Tok! Tok! Tok! TOK! TOK! TOK! TOK! TOK! TOK! The knocking only got louder, I could tell it was not the GRT, Andras. It was a monday evening, and I had spent 10 days without leaving my room, without eating or doing any hygienic activities. I barely drank water, usually in the dead of the night when everyone was asleep. MIT is a school that never sleeps, so it was quite hard to find that time when everyone was asleep, but I had mastered that art. I hadn’t checked my emails since the wednesday before because I knew the GRT, S^3, and my professors would reach out. I did not want to see that people were worried about me, this would make my situation real and more distressing. I knew things were bad when my dad called and I did not take it. I watched the phone ring, and then closed my eyes wishing it to stop. The only person I usually talked to, my little sister, was so desperate she sent me an email- she doesn’t usually use email. Tok! Tok! Tok! TOK! TOK! TOK! TOK! TO...

Dear little one, I love you.  I love you so much it hurts. I love you so much i will give you what my parents never gave to me, not existing. People might argue that I am being selfish by not letting you into this world, but I digress. There’s a reason why when a child is born cries. Seeing you cry as you take your first breath would break my heart in pieces. Crying should not be the natural order of things- smiling should. If a baby laughed first time it’s born, maybe I would have considered letting you come into the world. Oh little one, in all honesty, the pain of existing is too much and I won’t have you go through it. Everytime I wake up, I have to remind myself why I am doing this thing called life. The reasons vary with time. Sometimes, it is my sister who was my light at the end of the tunnel or my parents who sacrificed so much for me to be where I am today other times it’s the opportunities I have been given. Yet on other occasions it is just because I’ve gon...