uMwizerwa wa Ngoboka

Today, I met a girl we went to school together five years ago, she was with another one we studied together in primary eight years ago. I recognized them and they recognized me, but that’s where it ended. If we had tried to talk to each other it would have been some shushed awkward small talk. This made me wonder what makes friendships last. What keeps the light going. And this is something I can only speculate about as I have no super long term friendships. By super long friendships I mean those that last more then five years. The friends I had then we’re either estranged or I follow them on social media or we have small talks every other year. In the past years I have learned a bit of what makes friendships stronger. One, it is to has to be a two way friendship, if both parties are not interested in making it last then it will dwindle into nothingness. The second and most important thing I learned is to give space your friends. Nobody wants a clingy friend no matter how good...

Trigger warning: may contain strong imagery and upsetting language. PS: this is a true story, the experience of someone who was and is still hurting but wanted to remain anonymous. I needed closure, and I found it in the String. May 01, 2016; 11:30PM I am laying in my bed, holding a metal string around my neck. In the darkness it feels cold and stifling, but I had made my mind. I pulled harder, and then harder. My breath halted; bitterness filled my mouth; my tongue felt like it was coming out. I felt like my head was expanding and then it would explode into a zillion little pieces. I started getting weaker, and my hands could no longer pull on the string. As a young girl, I have always been shy- unable to break out of my shell. Every time I saw a group of people I distanced myself from them. Even if it was my classmates. As I grew up my shyness dissolved, but my fear to engage with people did not. I was my own person, and I depended on no one else but me. Starting grad...

Two weeks, five roommates When I first arrived in the hospital, it was November 24 Saturday.  My very first roommate was Jaala. Jaala told me I am beautiful when she first saw me. This boosted my ego, made me feel good. I never saw her in the room though; they probably moved her to the room she was in the rest of her stay here. She is an amazing person. Even though she talked about being old, she looked young and hip. She would get very invested in things. On walks, she collected pines and moss and tree bark for Christmas decorations. She made a very beautiful something, and I’ll always remember her by it. Two days later, I was moved west, and my roommate was called Jisca. Jisca has beautiful hair, it is long and smooth. I was surprised because she seemed to me like someone who would have shorter hair. I think she was brave. She would say no when she didn’t want to do stuff; this was very impressive for me. Selfishly I thought she was in a much worse shape than I was and ...

Success is defined as accomplishment of an aim or purpose. So successful people are those who accomplish what they aim for. What happens after we succeed we don’t tell. What happened before succeeding we don’t say. There are a humongous number of self help books about how to be successful, this won’t be about it. This is about what it means to succeed, how it feels. what we do with it and what happens when we lose it. For most of my life, I considered myself successful. I focused on what I knew I was good at and put in all my effort. What I was good at was academics. I was first in class most of the time, and I ended up being valedictorian in high school. However focusing on what I was good at, I forgot there was more in life like having friends, doing fun things, indulging in guilty pleasures and more. So the moment I ended being the best academically I had nothing else to act as a buffer. I fell and fell hard. This ain’t a pity story though, it’s all part of reflections....

My body and I have a weird relationship. I tried to love it, but it did not love me back. In my tender age, it had the appearance and size of that of a grown woman. And I loathed it. Just recently, as I was complaining about body shaming, a friend of mine hinted that I might have self hate. He was not completely wrong. In high school, we used to play a game, one would name 3 body parts they loved the most. I could only name one- my nails. It is very easy to hate the voluptuousness of my figure. To look in the mirror and see the 36 inch waist, the 52 inch hips, the 5ft2 height that coupled with weight makes my BMI way off. However, I would be ignoring the joy I find in watching my shadow. The beauty of my lips layered with black lipstick. The sexiness of my bosom. The dark and uniqueness of my nails. If I focus on what's wrong with me, I will be driven to loathe the one thing I am stuck with, the one thing layered with so many beautiful things It would be so easy...

As the year ends, people start with the “new year new me” sayings. Something I’ve never understood. It is just the next day with a different date and in a different year. If I was to take last year as an example, it would show all this is a farce- in my reflections. December 31, 2017 was a cold and dark wintry day. I had not set foot outside in a week, had not eaten in slightly less than that time; but this is beside the point. On that day ( honestly during that period) I was a confused human being. One would say I was having an existential crisis. The first thing that perplexed me was my choice of major. Decisions weren’t due until mid April, but it felt like a dark cloud hovering on top of me. About the choice of majors, I wanted to do Mechanical engineering. Deep down, I knew it was the logical choice. However, I had doubts. What if I wanted it because it seemed to be the right path to take, what if people’s suggestions had muddled and morphed into mine? Fast forward, D...

Disclaimer: just wanna share my experience, some whining and lots of complaining will be included. Not gonna say it’s the worst experience in the world, but it’s my worst experience so far. Dec 15, 1:00 am : my alarm just went off, I don’t really want to wake up so I give myself 30 extra minutes. I still have food to eat, final stuff to pack, a shower to take and other knick knacks. 2:30 am : I just finished checking out, tears are threatening to fall. To think I won’t be back in nine months or more. I called a Lyft and I’m surprised to find it’s 2 min away. I bring down my bags painstakingly, all three of them. The lady driver is very nice. 3:30 am : We’ve beeen going in circles, the gps was trash so we relied on just the signs. Luckily we just pulled over, I’m a little bit panicked. I get a cart, one I have to pay for. It was an amazing investment but one that left me at the blink of tears. 3:40 am : I’m confused. I’m at terminal E where Qatar Airways operates but it’s ...