Ramblings for My Son...

As I sat with you on the veranda this afternoon several things came to mind. There are so many things I want to tell you. You are two and a half years old now and many of these nuggets you probably wont understand so I've decided to pencil this down in the hope that one day you will read...

When you fall, get up.
You were born to rise and rise you shall.
Higher than my or your greatest expectations.

When you tire, keep going.
The strength you have within you is far greater than your aches and pains.

When you hurt, feel.
Never be afraid of your emotions, they are yours.
Own them and understand them. 
Allow yourself to be, to heal.

When you succeed, and I promise you you will;
Make sure to stop,
Stop and give yourself credit.
You deserve it.
Celebrate yourself. 
And then, then is when it is important for you to keep going.
Never Stagnate.

Open yourself up.
Open yourself up to love and to be loved.
Remember to love yourself but also most importantly to love those around you.

Do not forget to give.
Everything you are is because someone else gave.
So be sure to give, generously!
So many before have been generous to you.

When you are afraid, be brave.
Be brave enough to confront your fears.
Do not allow the things you fear to take ownership of you.
Many times you will find those things are not as overbearing as they seem.

Refuse to be silenced.
Stand up and speak about the things that are important to you.
Fight for the things you believe in,
That warrior spirit flows within your blood.

Most importantly remember;
You were born to Live, 

And with each passing day Embrace Life.

xoxo

Chido Dziva Chikwari

I write for him a lot. I started writing for him before he was born and even then I had so much I wanted to tell him. Sooo soo much and so I wrote. I wrote and wrote and wrote and wrote. Then when he was born I had less time to write and we spoke. I've often been stopped by people in supermarkets who jokingly say to me, "Ndanga ndichitofunga kuti pane mumwe munhu wamurikukurukura naye." ("I actually thought there was someone else you were speaking to") We talk a lot. Or rather I talk to him a lot. We take walks most Sundays now and I talk and talk and talk (i love to talk) and now he's talking too so sometimes he has something to say back to me like "Why" and "Yes" or "No". It's mostly one word responses for now but I'm really looking forward to the day when we will have full blown conversations about life and such. 

Absent

“The last time we spoke I thought about how it would be easier to tell our son that his father was dead because as it stands I have no explanation as to why his father is alive somewhere but has never come to see him”

ABSENT: Not present in a place, at an occasion or as part of something.

Sharing this post took a lot of courage for me because it is something that is very real and when I think about it, brings tears to my eyes. It is not representative of retrospective healing where after I have learnt a lesson and found the answer to a life question I write. It is ongoing and although I have come to terms with a lot of things in this regard this is not one of them. A few weeks ago I penciled something in my diary and it is remembrance of that which pushed me to write this post… I wrote, “Be Honest and True to Yourself.” So here I am…

The text in red is actually a message I almost sent to “you know who” with tears in my eyes on a very emotional night. I didn’t end up sending the message but halfway through realized that I can’t be the only woman going through this. The term “single mother” is routinely used all over and when I started to think beyond myself I identified several women who are close to me who have raised their children alone (alone is another term I don’t like using. Truthfully speaking I am not raising my son alone but that is a blog post for another day. I also identified many ‘children’, some who are now mothers or fathers in their own right who have grown up or are growing up with absent fathers.

My question, the one that I do not have the answer to is, “Why are you not here?” Granted life is very complicated and often there are several contributing factors that lead to undesirable circumstances BUT why are you not here?

Why do we have so many absent fathers in our societies?

And I use the word absent very loosely because I know that in many homes we have fathers who are ‘present’ but in actual fact are absent. Fathers who although they are physically in the home never truly connect with their children.

Why are you not here?

Is it that men find it more difficult to connect than women do? Is it that you did not have to carry your offspring in your womb for 9 months? Is it that you did not feel him turn and kick within you as he grew? Is it that you never felt the pain of labor or the suckling of a new-born that you gave life to?

Is that the reason you are not here?

Is that the reason why you can so easily disconnect from your own flesh and blood?

Why are you not here?

Is it that men feel differently than women do?

It will take hell and high water to separate me from my son. My son is the one person I know I would willingly give my life for. He is the one person in the world who I would do anything for and yet for you I feel that you feel differently. Why is that so?

Why are you not here?

I know I may never get ‘the answer’ but my prayer is that my baby never feels unloved, unimportant or inadequate or that it is his fault. So my question is in two parts. To all those fathers who are absent from their children’s lives be it physically, emotionally or both, why is that so? And to all those women who have had to deal with raising children whose fathers are absent but alive somewhere how have you dealt with this? What do I tell my son on the day that he asks me why is father is not here?

xoxo

Chido Dziva Chikwari

Thank you to my special friend who I shared all this with pre-posting. You are a strong and wise woman and so is the woman who raised you.

Love and Marriage: Living through the Pain?

"The problem is you don't really know how to be a good wife" he said,

So casually as if I was supposed to accept.

To accept living through the pain.

To accept and expect broken promises and infidelity.

Was that what it meant to be good?

To be a wife?

"The problem is you've never really been in love" he said,

So casually as if I was supposed to accept.

To accept that love meant living through the pain.

To accept that I must hold on and endure despite broken promises and infidelity.

Is that what it means to be in love?

To be loved?

"I'd rather be alone" I said,

So casually because I had accepted,

Accepted that I deserved better than living through the pain.

Than holding on to being "good" where "love" no longer lived.

I refuse to accept broken promises, they are no good.

Infidelity is not love,

That is not what it means.

xoxo
Chido Dziva Chikwari

A friend of mine said to me that I do not know how to be a good wife. He said this because I had expressed that I would not be okay with my future husband seeing other women. Another male colleague said to me that I did not know what it meant to be in love when I asked why his wife had taken him back after she found out that he had, for years, been having an extra marital affair.

Now I acknowledge that I may be idealistic. I acknowledge that in life it may be easier said than done to walk away from a cheating spouse or partner. I appreciate that, however, I am against the notion that living through that betrayal and holding on despite that is an indication that you are "a good wife" or "in love".

Why have we made this acceptable and labeled it as such to the extent that I, a young woman,

am expected to not only accept but expect that my future husband will see other women? Why is it that I, despite the pain it may cause me day in and day out, am expected to be the one to "fight for my marriage" as if I am the one who has broken promises. For generations our mothers have lived through the pain. And likewise for generations our fathers have praised them for being good wives in the face of their infidelity. Why have we as societies allowed ourselves to get away with believing and doing this?

When faced with the concept or idea of marriage I am often afraid. I am afraid that one day I will have to live through that pain in the name of loving someone or being a good wife. I am so afraid that more often I have said to myself that I would rather be alone. It's a kind of heart ache I fear I will not be able to handle especially so from someone I love. Someone I have committed to and built a life with. It may be because I have been heartbroken before and know how that can shatter you even when you haven't made a commitment as big as marriage before your friends, family AND God.

I'm not sure if overall this is a situation that can be helped but for myself and my future husband (should that come to pass) I pray for better.

“Last night I wept. I wept because the process by which I have become woman was painful. I wept because I was no longer a child with a child's blind faith. I wept because my eyes were opened to reality....I wept because I could not believe anymore and I love to believe. I can still love passionately without believing. That means I love humanly. I wept because I have lost my pain and I am not yet accustomed to its absence.” 

Anaïs Nin, Henry and June

Keep Shining!