Of 5 Things About Zimbabwe

Five things i wish you knew about Zimbabwe:

Things I wish you knew about Zimbabwe

  1. It is not a jungle.

Believe it or not I have been asked several times, if I see wild animals when I look outside the window.

If you want to see to see wildlife, you go to the a national park, you wont be disappointed. Once upon a time someone even asked me how I was on the internet….. Zimbabwe is a developing country, yes it has some areas more developed than others but we are not in the dark ages. I cringe when I watch a movie and they reference it as a some place it really not; we don’t live in trees and yes we have internet.

Trees in Africa unity Square Harare

Africa Unity Square trees

  1. Our hearts are warm as the tea brewed from our heart-shaped country
A teapot shaped country south of africa

A teapot shaped country

The economy might be free falling, cash is in short supply and you will wait for a long time at the bank to get the daily minimum, but amidst all the trials our hearts are in the right place on the left side like they should be. We are a nation of kind, tolerant and peace-loving people, with a humorous nature we laugh at the lemons life throws. The capital city of Zimbabwe, Harare is known as the Sunshine City.

harare sunshine city

Sunshine City

 

the Jacaranda trees in bloom Harare

The Jacaranda Trees in bloom

 

  1. We are not our president nor our first lady.

Don’t judge us by the actions of our president, and we are not our president’s keeper too. Please don’t ask me when we are going to vote him out or why we still keep him in power. If you have questions for him,  you can ask him yourself.

  1. We are a nation of educated people

Don’t be fooled by the jobs we are willing to do to put bread on the table, you would be quite shocked to find that the person who hands you a flyer advertising something at the traffic lights is a university  graduate.

amber

At some point our country we might have the highest literacy rate in Africa, last time i checked according to UNESCO we were just shy of making it in to the top ten list.

Also don’t ask me how for a nation of such educated beings we managed to let our country get into a such state……

  1. The Victoria Falls is in Zimbabwe.

Victoria falls mosi oa tunya

Well my Zambian friends might have some say in that….. but hey the Victoria Falls boarders Zimbabwe and Zambia so its both there and here.

The Victoria falls is a breath-taking site, locals call it Mosi oa Tunya , meaning The Smoke that Thunders…..  its the largest body of falling water by volume and something one just has to see fro themselves even attempt to bungee jump or dare the Devil’s Pool.

~B

 

Visit Zimbabwe some time I promise you wont regret it maybe we might even hang out and have a real cup of coffee together……

 

 

photo Credit Victoria Falls

City of Harare photos view from Africa Unity Square courtesy of Tendai

Advertisements

Of Sadza Over A Cup of Coffee

If you were having coffee with me, we would be sharing a plate of Sadza.

 

A plate of Sadza Sadza is the staple food of Zimbabwe but growing up I kept asking myself why my dear ancestors could not have come up with a yummier staple food, like pizza or lasagna or something….. Children find Sadza one of the most uninteresting dishes ever created and adults cant live seven days without it, it makes one weak apparently……

Sadza is cooked from mealie meal (upfu) which is like a type of flour made from ground maize. I think it’s similar to what is known as corn flour.

mealie meal upfu

If you were having coffee with me I would tell you that cooking Sadza is almost an  art. The instructions are simple enough

>Boil water

Boiling water in a pot

A watched pot

>add mealie meal

>whisk to mix

whisk to mix

>add more mealie meal

>whisk some more

Whisk some more.jpg

>bring mixture to a boil and leave to simmer (kukwata)

> stir and mix with a wooden cooking stick (mugoti)

>add mealie meal

>stir to Sadza bricking.jpgmix

>add more mealie meal

>stir to mix, when its thick enough and doesnt smell like raw mealie meal it is done.

Sadza served.jpg

serve with a relish of your choice…… from plain vegetables, to a stew….

sadza and relish

Seems easy enough, but there are no precise measurements like how much water to how much of the  mealie meal. You know in the way recipes for rice call for one cup of rice to two parts water. When you are cooking Sadza, you pretty much just eyeball it and your gut tells you when you have added enough mealie meal…..

I confess I struggle with it, sometimes its too thin and sometimes adding that next cup of mealie meal changes it from beingjust right to much too thick like a concrete brick…..  you don’t want this nobody wants that, unless you are builder….

If you are having coffee with me I would tell you that traditionally Sadza is served  for lunch or supper but we are having it for breakfast because we have a long day ahead of us, we might even attend a Harare International Carnival

~B

PS day 8 blog every day challenge

Oh yeah clean all the utensils immediately after, otherwise you will end up having to scrap clean your cooking stick using a knife and possibly break it….. I have done this.

Of The Voice Of Music

What is music? Beats, bars and notes fused together into a rhythm so much more than its sum total.

“One good thing about music, when it hits you, you feel no pain.”

-Bob Marley

The soul of music

I think man has had music in his life from when he could first talk, before that even; when he could not talk only hum and grunt or even way back from that moment when out of curiosity he clapped his hands for the first time…..

Music was our first voice, our first story…..

Here is a free tip: if you want to predict whether a song will be a hit…. Play it for kindergarten toddlers, if they start dancing, without anyone telling them to dance, you have yourself a chart topper……. simple

Music is the first voice you hear, I don’t mean the words to a song but the song and its story in all its entirety; how it all blends in and makes you feel… that voice….. And then we grow up, we start trying to pay more attention to the lyrics, to make sense of them, or the beat and trying to dance to impress, like someone is watching…

Are you surprised, you willalways look back on music from yester-year and say, that’s when they made good music….?

Music is dynamic, music changes but the voice is always the same you grow up and cant hear it anymore.

I remember this old song barely but my sisters loved it, when it played they danced their little hearts out it. I used to pick them up after school and we would walk home and this one day the song was playing loudly from the speakers outside a shop, we stopped and they danced. A small crowd of people gathered, they even threw money…..

Ndochi by Papa Jose…… shamwari tamba iwe (dance my friend)

No party was complete without this song.

Growing up, waiting impatiently for Thursday nights, because that’s when ZBC TV showed the music program, Mvenge Mvenge; Mutinhimira weMimanzi Ezomugidho (translates to The Sound of Music) My brothers recorded the good stuff on the VCR so we could watch again and again.

James Chimombe and John Chibadura were popular favourites. Years later I am all grown up and I realise some of the songs had a weird touch of melancholy they sang about death, heartbreak and loss and we danced to it on Christmas holidays.

As a country I don’t think we have had a particularly distinct music sound that is ours and ours alone,  the most popular genre Sungura started as a spin-off from the popular rhumba ndombolo music from the DRC.

In the late 90s the government instituted a media blanket which only allowed airplay of 100% local content, partly to help boost and encourage the local music and others less benevolent reasons. It left a void for those who loved western type music hip hop, the rhythm and blues, and the gap was filled by a genre of music called Urban Grooves.

Artists who rose to fame then were David Chifunyise and a collection of artists from his Shamiso records studio and the man who did the beats Delani Makhalima

David Chifunyise – Tauya Naye

And then there Pax Afro a group sponsored by the then Minister of information and publicity who was the writer and composer of the songs too, the jingles were catchy though

Let it play – Pax Afro

One of my all time favourite local songs Chidzoka by Rocquie

I will still dance to this.!!!

And today a new genre is talking over inspired by dancehall music from Jamaica. Zim Dancehall to the world, its fast paced, the new youth culture, the new voice of music….Popular Artists  include Soul Jah love, Tocky Vibes, Bounty Lisa, Winky D

I love music by Jah Prayzah, I don’t know what genre his music is but he has various local award and nominations.

Hello – Jah Prayzah

 

And it my list would not be complete if I did not mention Oliver Mtukudzi, he has been churning out hits from before I was born… and still going strong, now that is legendary!!!

Oliver Mtukudzi

We are born loving music and dancing,…..then innocence is lost

 

~B

PS How could I forget to mention this song, I really loved it and I was gravely crashed while looking it up to find out that’s it’s a cover….

Rusike Brothers – Cecelia

Day 7 Blog Everyday Challenge

photo Credit Oliver Mtukudzi

Of A Day Not Easily Forgotten

Once in your life, you must attend a concert, properly. Not sneaking out and telling lies to your parents that you are going to an all night prayer or a study session and constantly looking over your shoulder to see if any suspiciously parental guidance people are not looking for you.

A concert everyone knows you are going to, whom you going with and how you are coming back home; cause these events have a misleading habit of having posters that say till late but late is usually around two or three in the morning and not a taxi in sight….. And if you love to dance, I recommend a rhumba concert.

I remember the first one I want to. A rhumba outfit that hails from DRC had come to perform their act in Masvingo for the first time, at Charles Austin Theater.

Extra Musica of the Etat Major hit song

Although this is the first concert I admit to going, I confess experience had taught me that beverages at concerts tend to be ridiculously overpriced and they usually wont let you bring your own. So prudence would dictate you imbibe in your beverage of choice before you go and then you only buy one of the outrageously priced ones and sip on that all night, unless of course you come from money…..

being young wild and free

If it’s a concert you planned to go ahead of time, buy your tickets in advance they are usually cheaper and getting in will be easier than trying to pay at the gate or door. It will save you a world of grief and possibly getting robbed at the pressure to get in. Also only carry money that you intend to spend anyway, so if you do get pickpocketed its inconvenient but not the end of the world, and you might want to live your phone behind…..  but who will take the awesome pictures???

Take mental pictures, a phone is a distraction really.

Rhumba music has this vibe, the music plays and you just have to dance, you don’t even know the words but you dance anyway…. There is something primal about the rhythm… and then they perform your favourite song:

Dance like no one is watching

Dance like no one is watching

I don’t how, I don’t know when, but suddenly I found myself on the stage dancing, doing the same routine as the dance ensemble…. It was crazy.

I was Fire, I mean fire is my totem, but  I was on Fire, or as they call it these days LIT, and everyone was cheering. The song was repeated, again not once, not twice but three times….. When I got back into the crowd people thought I was surprise guest performer, I didn’t confirm but I certainly didn’t deny it. I greeted people in badly pronounced French and they thought I was a foreigner….  It was a nightly I can barely remember with people I can hardly forget. .

Going back home was a slight bit of drama since I couldn’t find my particulars and I came quite close to being deported as I tried to explain that I really wasn’t a foreigner until my brother came to the rescue, he had my wallet and ID in his safekeeping, I don’t remember if he said or didn’t say the words “I am my brother’s keeper” or maybe….. it wass only in my head?

Family Rocks.

What was the first concert you went to?

~B

PS That night I had complimentary drinks served to me for being a good sport, and recently I shared part of this story on my twitter feed and it earned me first prize on #GoldenPilsenerGo4Gold share a crazy story challenge hosted by @DannythatGuy

….. Good memories have a habit of staying great.

Day 6 of the blog everyday challenge

Of A WordPress WordCamp

 

The WordPress local community helps host monthly meetups which culminate into a WordCamp annual event, in countries across the globe. The WordCamp event is gaining ground in Africa, its been held in the following African countries and their respective cities: South Africa (Johannesburg, Cape Town); Kenya (Nairobi), Zimbabwe(Harare).

What is A WordCamp?

Have you ever heard of one, a WordCamp? I was not aware of them until late 2016, when I came across a link on my twitter feed. It was an invitation to attend the first Wordcamp held in Zimbabwe; Harare.  I searched it up on the internet and I was instantly fascinated.

A WordCamp, is a local WordPress Conference for people from all walks of WordPress. The event is usually scheduled into various Speaker Sessions with interactive question and answer segments at the end of each session.

Who and why should you attend?

The WordCamp conference caters for everyone, from web developers, designers and various professionals to even the occasional blogger…..you get to learn first hand from real people talking about the things they are doing, things you are doing or thinking of doing too…..

There is always something for everyone.

Even outside of the Speaker Sessions, the networking opportunities are priceless, you really never know who you will meet there, or what inspiring idea you will pick up.

And there is always Swag, you can truly say I been there I done that, I got the T-shirt……..

beaton Wordcamp harare 2016 tshirt

Also There Is AN After Party!!! You know what they say about All  work and no play. WordCamps usually conclude with an after party……..

My Experience at one

It was an awesome fun-filled event filled with lots of learning…. you can read my highlights from WordCamp Harare 2016 here

If you get a chance to attend one, do!!!

When and where?

Cape Town, South Africa; The River Club 22-23 0ctober 2017 #WCCT2017

Harare, Zimbabwe; Hellenic Academy 4 November 2017  WordCampHarare2017

Nairobi, Kenya; Michael Joseph Center 4-5 November WordCampNairobi2017

~B

PS If you are attending WordCamp Harare; you just might see me there.

A few pics from WordCamp Harare 2016

WordCamp Harare 2016

 

WordCamp Harare 2016

 

 

Of Tomorrow: A Place A day Away

Tomorrow comes, when tomorrow comes……

tomorrow loading button

I dream of tomorrow a place better than today and then I wake up tomorrow is today, tomorrow never comes……

The future is filled with tomorrows that become today, a day at a time.

Life is a poetry of possibilities,

Fused with expectations and uncertainties.

Tomorrow comes. And how often can a man say that? “Every night, because tomorrow always comes everyday, after every night”

I live in a world where planning ahead is hard. Our economy is burning, hard cash in hand is worth more than money in the bank, and everybody is running a hustle. In 2008 a bank apocalypse happened; savings and pensions eroded in value to nothing; overnight, and everyday feels like a day away from the same thing happening all over again…..

Tomorrow comes when tomorrow comes.

Tomorrow never waits.

By the time my parents were my age,

they had:

three children,

 two cars,

 one house

and a dog named Bingo…..

I loved that dog, a German Shepard big and mean looking but gentle as kitten, unless it felt we were threatened, strangers, suspicious characters, the odd postman. Today I cant afford to keep a pet, I cannot even afford to feed myself three square meals plus snacks, the kind of diets we had growing up.

My parents had this life thing on track, they had life policies, invested in shares and those pension plans which pay out a windfall 25+ odd years later. The economy crashed and all that turned to a little less than pocket change.

Today I found a dividend cheque in the mail, it should have been paying my mum a neat little windfall back in the original economy…. but today it pays out USD$1.40

Dividend.jpg

Cheque.jpg

And I ask myself where do I even begin to plan for my retirement, one day I would like to do something really nice for my mum, like by her car to replace the one I know she sold to send us all to school but never told us about… maybe tomorrow I will.

Next year we have elections… the ruling party candidate is the current president, he has been president all my life, he turns 93 in February. Zimbabwe will decide and it seems everything awaits that; what comes after…? Politics in Africa is a messy affair.

And still I dream of tomorrow, a place not like today, or yesterday… a place where things are better…

~B

Day 5 of my blog everyday challenge

 

Of Trapped In The (Water) Closet

I hate to ask, for directions, advice, help……. I am probably on my way to my destiny right now and I am lost or trapped somewhere, but I will get there…..

When you visit someone one of the things you must casually find out is, where the bathroom is located, if it works, and any special procedures you might need to be aware of… and also the Wi-Fi password.

Not all bathrooms are the same, some have no running water and you may need to go fetch by way of a bucket, maybe it must not be flushed, not ever, and special quirks you really ought to be aware of…….

Its awkward conversation to have but believe me, but it will save you from death by embarrassment, unless of course you plan on not using any other bathroom but your own. Good luck with that.

There I was visiting a friend, conversation was great and the effects of the large mug of tea, we were enjoying started kicking in. I excused myself for a quick bathroom break. I took a wrong turn or two, saw things I shouldn’t have, but that is neither here nor there. I may have poured some gin into my cup of tea, to break the ice, which is why, I was all zen and calm as if I open wrong doors all the time; you mumble apologies and walk away….

I located the water closet and locked the door, the key was there in the door’s ignition. I even checked the handle to make sure the door was locked, it was. I am a private person I value my privacy. Even if I had gone into the toilet to just spit, the gin was giving me a touch of nausea, I would have still locked the door.

Finding the bathroom was easy enough, getting out, not so much.  The key wouldn’t turn and so I tried jiggling the door handle around… and it came right off and I heard the distinct sound of something falling, on the other side of the door. ……. It meant only one thing TRAPPED.

trapped clip art

I laughed, because sometimes if you don’t laugh, you will freak out. Don’t Panic, I learnt that from The Hitch Hiker’s Guide To The Galaxy. I tried not to panic,and put on my Rose Coloured glasses, I assessed my situation:

Door out of order

Door Dead.jpg

 

windows barred

Window copy.jpg I had left my phone on the table, in the lounge, next to my cup of gin and tea tonic, so I couldn’t call anyone for an emergency evacuation…..

I knocked on the door softly, too soft, no one could have heard it. I couldn’t bring myself to actually shout for help, and decided at some point someone is either going to come to use the bathroom or  start looking for me after, figuring out I have been gone for far to long. If I had carried my phone I would have had something to do, instead I busied myself reading instructions on the detergents…

domestosmutlipurpose  Bleach

Who knew this is multipurpose ….. you learn something anywhere if you put your mind to it…..I even hummed R Kelly’s Trapped In The Closet quietly to myself, the man has his issues but he knows his music….

After what felt like forever, who knows how long it was, my phone tells me the time, and I didnt have it; eventually help arrived. I had been “missing” for far too long and a search party was calling my name. Am I the only one who finds it odd, to respond from the bathroom when someone calls your name? So I stayed silent yet hopeful. By deductive elimination, they figured out I was the one trapped in the bathroom.

Someone knocked on the door.

Yes” I responded sheepishly

“But you are not to lock the door, nobody does, the key has issues.”

“How was I supposed to know?”

You should have asked…..”

The End

~B

Obviously I got out…. eventually, they had to remove the door by hinges, it was like an episode of Prison Break……..

 

PS This Day Four of my blog everyday challenge

 

 

image credit Clip Art Panda

 

Of Being Me

Hello my name is Beaton but by now you should know to call me just B. no other letters, and you don’t pronounce the just. Sometimes I like to tell people that my name is pronounced, you know how in French some letters are silent like the  S in Paris is silent, well all the letters in my name are silent too except for the B……

B.jpg

I am ~B and this is day three of my blog everyday challenge

People are funny creatures, you tell someone to call you B. and next time they call you, they presume to know your name. I have been called Brighton, Brilliant, Beacon, even Brian. I mean Brian? How even? But if there is anything that grinds my gears more than my name being assumed wrong, it’s when I tell someone my name and they pronounce it badly, even when I repeat it…. And I eventually say please just call me B (and save me the drama of hearing my name being mangled) but that other part stays in my head…

Where I come from people tend to give babies names with meaning but I guess most people do to a fashion, like Tawanda (meaning we are many) Tafara (meaning we are happy) Shuvai (meaning Hope) Navelani (also meaning Hope). Most names used here, when you hear them, you understand them, you can define them, you can even find them in the dictionary.

My name is uncommon, I have only “met” one person with it, as a first name, we are Facebook friends… if you are reading this post Hi Beaton!!!!

Beaton

Beaton

When I am asked what my name means sometimes I say, “I cannot be defined because my name is not in the dictionary.” But that’s not completely true I looked up my name it means:

“From the warrior’s estate”

From the warrior’s estate wow… do not mess with me. You see, I am a descendant from a line of warriors that leads back to Shaka The Zulu. Shaka reigned in Southern Africa and consolidated a formidable empire in the late 1700s to early 1800s.

Shaka The Zulu

I don’t think my parents had this in mind when they named me, it was in honour to an uncle….  (hmmmm maybe my grandaparents when they named my uncle….)

In Zimbabwe family kin identify each other by their totems, people of the same clan have the same totem (known as mutupo in Shona language) It’s a patron or spirit animal for your people, you respect it and you are not supposed to eat it. When you have done good, when someone is thanking you or beseeching you or down right flattering you, they can invoke your totem in a clan praise name…….

My mother’s totem is heart (moyo). My father’s totem is fire (moto, mlilo)

My totem is Fire. You become your father’s people…..

 

Again this is uncommon as most, if not all have animals or organic totems. Lion (shumba, murambwi), elephant(zhou ndlovu), monkey(shoko), zebra(dube) heart(moyo) and many other totems. The people who came up with this totem thing were clever not to pick animals like chicken, cow or pig because folk would have been in trouble. Eating your totem is said to cause a host of misfortune including droughts until you appease your ancestors.

My Totem is fire…..

There is nothing I don’t eat, my ancestors “discovered” fire and I pay homage to them in a barbecue.

fire BBQ

Hello my name is Beaton and my spirit animal will barbecue your spirit animal…..

My totem is fire and I was born to be uncommon.

Mlilo, Chauke

~B

PS You can read about my how my ancestors “discovered” fire HERE

 

Shaka Zulu Image credit Source

Of Coffee grown from a teapot shaped country

If you were having coffee with me, I would tell you tell you that, it feels like I spoke too soon when I announced Spring is here yesterday because today is a cold day like we rewound time to the middle of winter. But everything works out perfectly, we wont need an excuse to light a fire and drink a liquid hug in a mug…..

My friend Josh, left a comment on my last post that had me thinking, my country is teapot shaped and that is not a bad thing, it could be anything really; Oneta mentioned her state looks like a pan handle… what is your country or state shaped like?

A teapot shaped country south of africa

A teapot shaped country

Today is day 2 of my blog everyday challenge; and if you were having coffee with me I would tell you to allow me to pour you tales grown from my teapot shaped country.

I am the second born child in a family of five siblings (and now we are 4). I grew up in an extremely large family because my dad rest his soul had a heart of gold and if any relation needed a place to stay he would agree quickly without a second thought.

The family.jpg

We didn’t have rules any rules in the house; if we did they we less than ten and they weren’t really rules they were more like I would rather you didnts

If there was one rule we had, it was that the word cousin never be used, we had no cousins, we had brothers and sisters. In our culture my uncles (my father’s brothers) are my fathers and my aunts (my mum’s sisters) are my mothers and so their children are my siblings. It’s a great way to keep the family united and when my dad passed away although I missed him I never felt the void of missing a father figure.

Every school holiday we went visiting, either the paternal or the maternal grandparents alternating each time..

grandmaGranma

That one was not a rule that was a commandment. It helped to keep us grounded, we knew where we came from.

Grandfather and grandchild

My Grandad and I

All the stories told, suddenly years later I realise they are so much more than stories and this is why I too am a storyteller, keeping wisdom alive in the embers of a story.

If you were having coffee with me; I would tell you I was born to tell stories

Baby Beaton

 

I could speak before I could walk, and I walked before I could stand. I am told people found that highly disturbing I wouldn’t know I don’t remember…. What I do remember is that once upon a time my dad and I snuck out the house to go to a barbecue with the guys, I was made to swear not to reveal where we had gone, what we had done and whom we had done it with and was bribed with an insane amount of soft drinks, kebabs, ice creams and sweets. As soon as I got out home the first words out of my mouth to my mum were:

I am not telling you that I am not supposed to tell you that I was given sweets to not tell you that…..

I am sure my dad was not amused at all.

I am a fairly decent cook and I am super modest about it, you might even find my picture right under the definition of Modesty. Growing up my mum didn’t differentiate chores for the boys and girls she would just suggest, I would rather you didn’t leave dirty dishes in the sink, I would rather you all helped each other cook….

African parents are known for their heavy handed justice but I never got beat up, ,maybe we were model children and growing up without a father we were forced to be mature kids we never needed disciplining or rules…..

Family

already reading newspapers, helping “kids” with homework

My older brother was off at boarding school and so suddenly  I become “the responsible child”

Prefect

The Prefect

I was a prefect in primary school, a dorm prefect in junior high, a table leader at the the dining and a senior prefect in high school…. I never became a government minister though…..😂😂

what was your childhood like?

#MyAfricaMyWords

~B

 

PS a rare picture of my mum and dad way before The Kids

A rare photo.jpg

A rare picture of me being a baby

me .jpg

 

 

 

Of September Blog Everyday Challenge

Hello September

Today marks the anniversary of my first blog post, a dedication to my sister moonI deleted that particular post; but it’s been four years since I created this WordPress blog.

Today is also Day One of my blog everyday challenge(s) during the month of September.

My name is Beaton but you can call me ~B.. everyone does.

beaton

My blog is titled Becoming The Muse; but to be honest the meaning of that changes everyday; there is no one truth. Yesterday I wanted you to be my muse, today I want you to be mused by me, and tomorrow maybe you shall muse yourse…… in musing you, I (a)muse myself…..

I hail from a teapot shaped country south of the continent of Africa; Zimbabwe.

A teapot shaped country south of africa

A teapot shaped country

NOTE: The map is drawn not to scale, superimposed Zimbabwe to its relative position to bring out the shape

It’s the first day of spring today but we basically have two seasons, summer and winter, and it doesn’t snow, not ever. I wouldn’t be surprised that our winters are warmer than some people’s summer. Basically our seasons are hot dry season, hot wet season, cold wet season, cold dry season…. Repeat.

My blog has shifted a lot from when I first started, when it was basically a digital diary of all the stories I wanted to eventually tell and I posted at a frequency of once a very long time *hides*

Dear diary

Now my blog has become a place; alive all by its self, a place I make friends and learn and teach a thing or two… who would have thought it?

I have had a blog for years now and still I confess I never think of myself as a blogger; I am a writer who happens to  have a blog:

 

If I am somewhere and they say we need a blogger here, the way they say *somebody call a doctor* in the movies….. 

I would be looking around as well, looking for the blogger being called for……. 

And here I am, a part of not just one blogging challenge but two …. #BlogTemberChallenge and #30DayAfriBlogger both are aligned with sharing the African Narrative…

Its official; September is Africa month at least on this blog it will be….

#MyAfricaMyWords

~B

PS I am curious if you could let me know where you are, its weird how you never really think about where the person on the other side of the screen is and sometimes you assume, even wrongly too ^_^