Of Mental Health

mental health awareness

Mental health is a mostly avoided and greatly misunderstood topic in African countries. Some of the beliefs are steeped in years of cultural practices that make opening up difficult, when you read and hear the stories people have to share, you realise people struggle by themselves.

Generally speaking, when you speak of mental health it is assumed you are referring to the kind of mental illness which leads to one being committed to a mental asylum under heavy sedatives or roaming the streets in ragged clothes in deep conversations with the unseen. Word on the street is this caused by anything from genetics, stress, taking drugs, committing murder or adultery, witchcraft, as a sacrifice in a money making ritual or forsaking  your ancestral kin.

If you randomly ask someone about their mental health they will look at you as if you just asked them if they are crazy……..

We all have that or have heard of that uncle or aunt whom nobody really talks about who occasionally gets whisked away to get treatment and medication, when the moon is a certain way. I remember reading something a long time ago about how the moon affects lunatics not exactly quite unlike the way of werewolves.

They say Lunatics comes from Lunar…. (The lunar lunacy effect)

Moon howling

Even William Shakespeare had something to say about this in Othello:

“It is the very error of the moon.
She comes more near the earth
than she was wont. And makes
men mad.”

Othello Act 5 scene 2

I have an uncle, he taught me Latin when I was six years old, I thought we were speaking gibberish and I indulged him because as I understood it he got headaches. I only discovered when I went to a Catholic boarding school that I could recite the Lord’s prayer in Latin. He is a genius, he studied at a university abroad, on some scholarship in the 70s, smoked some weird stuff and never got quite got back to himself.

The last time I saw him, he was trying to build a resonance machine, which would vibrate your brain cells at the natural frequency of a genius mind and if you had not studied mathematics at high school level your brain would blow up, leaving a world of only intellects…….

Conversations with him are always intriguing, I understand what he is talking about sometimes, maybe because I know how resonance works; someone else just listens and decides he speaks gibberish, when he actually speaks fluent German. No one quite talks about it, I don’t even know what he studied. Sometimes I worry I have those genes, a crazy genius who might take a bad trip and never come back?

Then we have the silent killer Clinical depression which has a list symptoms indistinguishable from what people generally call being moody, sad even lazy and yet battling darkness at their core. Its easy to look happy, when everyone wears a mask. I have seen people who refuse to accept that depression is an actual medical condition and not some made up excuse to be sad

Smiling Mask Sad Face beneath

No one seems to take it seriously right up until the time someone ends their life. Then suddenly people are trying to understand when you got such dark thoughts or how they didn’t realise that the extent of your depression was not just sadness but something deeper darker…..Needed treatment/therapy not just telling some one to man up or be positive or simply try harder

Unfortunately no one ever really knows whats going on inside you, the case of The Strong Silent Man.

It’s Ok to say “I am sad and I don’t know why”……… nothing to be ashamed about. You could even write it down, it’s a form of therapy, some of the best writers are really tortured spirits and paper was the only friend that listened and offered no judgement.


Day 14 of my blog everyday challenge

if you are in Zimbabwe and need to contact someone you can try The Samaritans.

Samaritans – Bulawayo
PO Box 806
Contact by: Face to Face – Phone – Letter:
Hotline: (9) 650 00
24 Hour service:

Harare Samaritans
PO Box UA 267
Union Avenue
Contact by: Face to Face – Phone – Letter:
Hotline: (4) 726 468 – (4) 722 000
Hotline: Toll-free: 080 12 333 333
24 Hour service:

The Samaritans
Hotline: (20) 635 59

Or Find other free organisations in the post by The Quarter Wife

If you know of any other please add them……. What are your experiences with mental health like?


Of Coffee and Edible Water after Easter on Independence Day


If you were having coffee with me I would say hello to you hope you had happy Easter holidays. Did you do anything interesting, visit family, hunt for eggs with the Easter Bunny, or go to church and celebrate The Risen Lord. Regardless of your beliefs and faith on Easter I find you hope you never get swayed by the corporate monster, out there to make a quick buck, commercializing every single reason we have to buy a gift or anything really for any occasion clouding up everything till you find you cant go home until you have bought a mother’s day or father’s day, valentine’s day or anniversary gift, cake, presents, Christmas trees, hot cross buns, Easter eggs, spending hard  earned money on meaningless trinkets and  meaningless gestures. Ok, fine maybe that was a bit harsh, its not meaningless and there is nothing wrong with gifts and gestures, and I for one wouldn’t mind getting a gift; even for no reason, actually especially for no reason but they must come from the heart and not because some big corporate splurged a lot of money in advertising and marketing and it’s all inception and subliminal messaging for you To Buy Buy Buy Buy Buy.

But hey the corporate monster just like progress is a multi-headed beast that needs to be constantly fed with innovation.

If you were having coffee with me I would ask you if you saw the April Full Moon, also known as The Pink Moon. I don’t know why it is called The Pink Moon, it was most certainly full but not pink in colour. Here is a fun fact, Easter Sunday falls on the first Sunday following the first full moon after the vernal equinox. (which occurs March 20)

It still feels like the weekend today, Sunday to be precise but its Tuesday, that’s because today’s another public holiday, it’s been a holiday studded past five days whoop whoop…

Today is Independence Day for Zimbabwe.

Happy 37 years of…… sovereignity.

They call us the Born Free generation because we are fortunate to never have witnessed oppression at the hands of colonial overlords or the blood price that was paid for our sovereignity. Sovereignity is a tree just like liberty it needs constant watering, with blood of patriots and traitors alike. I would like to believe no leader ever sets out to rule with iron words, firm fists and tyranny but the old adage holds true power corrupts and absolute power, well absolutely…. and here we are 37 years later and sovereignity feels a lot like oppression  simply changed skin colour.

If you were having coffee with me I would ask you if you have taken a walk outside and thought to yourself someone should do something about this and then kept walking….. Yeah I do that. Just the other day I was looking for a bin to throw litter in, while walking in the city, I noticed all the different kinds of bottles littering the street thinking yeah people need to recycle or something….. and I kept walking.

Everybody expects somebody to do something and in the end nobody does anything

Fun Fact; Empties is really a word, it means a glass bottle empty of its contents. You might be familiar with bottles that come with a deposit refundable when you return the ‘empties’ or those who wont sell you takeaway beverages without an empty to exchange with. I had always wondered who came up with that word or if it was just street lingo but had never looked it up not until yesterday. When your bottle has a deposit you are less likely to just toss it away without a second thought.

If you were having coffee with me I would ask you what you think of edible water bottles. I would watch you look at me trying to wrap your head around the idea of an edible water edible. I know I have crazy ideas but fortunately that one isn’t mine.


A company called Skipping Rocks Labs has introduced water, packaged in water drop shaped bottles that are get this Edible… made from some organic algae, dipped in ice. How cool is that?  The idea is quite an interesting and innovative take on that recycling and littering problem I mentioned earlier, especially for those who want water on the go…(hello jogging #teamfitness I see you) I don’t know about the practicalities though like you cant have your water and drink it too hahahaha. What do you think

Thanks for dropping by and have an awesome week


PS If you are a Christian you must live each day as if Christ rose today and is coming.  Amen

Photocredit Designboom

Of Coffee With Angels


If you were having coffee with me we would be trying out this herbal infusion, it kinda looks like weeds but smells like a combination of thyme with a hint of mint. It’s called Zumbani Tea from the Fever Tea Tree (Lippia javanica if you want to be all scientific about it, so you know I didn’t make it up) Do grab a cup, herbal tea is served in the delightful coffee mug labelled orange.


If we were having coffee I would tell you that my phone is broken that is why I haven’t been replying your messages. The way my phone is behaving you would think its possessed, it swipes the unlock pattern and uninstalls applications, deletes stuff then opens messages and sends texts to my contacts all by itself, it even makes calls too, so now I have to keep it without credit to prevent accidental calls, and when I try to type up something it totally ignores me and proceeds to write what it feels like, its got a mind of its own or its possessed. I haven’t decided if I should take it to an exorcist or repair man. Before you ask, yes I tried switching it off and switching it on again, I even took out the battery looked heavenward and prayed to the phone Gods. Being The Fixer that I am I even took it apart and tried to see if I could understand the finer workings of the circuitry of a phone. I searched for YouTube tutorials and ended up wasting two hours of my life watching videos of cute lil kittens. I need a new phone and its not even my birthday and Christmas is still six months away.

If you were having coffee with me I would tell you how, as I was walking minding my own business, thinking ‘normal’ thoughts, well normal enough for me anyway. This random guy walked up to me and said “Happy Father’s day” and then he walked away. This got me quite stumped I tell you, since I have no kids of my own, (as far as I know) and this gentleman was older than too. So the only way he could be my son is if in the future I manage to build a time travel machine, which I read about, in my diary, which I wrote. My time travelling son wished me happy father’s day and walked away before I could say “Thanks son but tell me whom your mom is, is it? is it……?”  I barely managed to sneak in a nod.

Is there internet in heaven? So I can wish Happy Father’s day to my dad, any man can be a father, but to be a dad…takes a special kind of man. Can he read my blog I wonder? Does he smile and point out to his angel buddies “That is my son.” I would like to think he does.

If you were having coffee with me we would be binge watching super heroes movies Batman Vs Superman: Dawn of Justice, Captain America: Civil War, X-men: Apocalypse and Dead Pool. If you had a super power what would you wish for, I would wish that I could use my totem like say Flame On and start throwing fireballs, or go super nova, just like the sun….  that is why I am hot.

So… Batman vs Superman if you cancel out the kryptonite, Superman would totally whoop Batman’s pointy lil ears. But Batman, Batman has heart and that’s why sometimes when the moon (like tonite) is full,  I dress up as batman, and go out to howl at the moon….. Think about it have you ever seen me and Batman in the same room?

B is For Batman.

Not all heroes wear capes, some simply hold the door and others well they break down doors awoooah.

Thanks for visiting;  Happy father’s day and have an awesome week


PS if I ever build a bomb, all the wires would be the same colour none of this blue wire, red wire, green wire.

PPS hope you enjoyed the Zumbani tea



Of Coffee moonlit nights and regrets


If you were having coffee with me we would be having a cup of coffee hotter than the winter sun. It is winter this side of the world. You can have hot chocolate if you prefer.

If you were having coffee with me I would ask you if you saw the full moon last night, I did, I always circle the calendar on the days that have moonlit nights, I feel an urge to howl at the moon if this were a moon howling world.


If you did not know it by now I love the moon …..It looks like a diamond on the black velvet of night.

If you were having coffee with me I would tell you I submitted an article for possible consideration as a columnist for some online publication and I spent weeks anxiously waiting for a response, the details stated that only short-listed candidates would be contacted. Don’t you just hate it when they do that? How long must you wait before you decide you were not shortlisted, I think it’s just cruel and unusual torture, how hard is it to have an email template you can copy paste all unfortunate candidates put them out of their misery. I hope they make loads of money from all the money they save by sending emails to only short-listed candidates.

Sometime during the past week, while checking my email I found I had been a short-listed candidate and received the second half of instructions. They wanted to know my twitter handle, the horror *ghostie emoji*

Imagine a potential employer having a look at your Twitter Timeline and you desperately trying to remember if you tweeted anything that’s Not Suitable For Work. I had half a mind to start a new twitter profile for business and people I do not like, people whom I have to tell I don’t do twitter *Poker face emoji* but apparently they (employers) consider your follower count to see your potential reach or influence. They also wanted me to write an imaginary review about an imaginary startup company which I would pull out of my imagination and also highlight why this company would consequently fail, I was definitely out of my depth, and these guys were out for blood. Bye Bye Boss.

Imagine my surprise when I was called in for an interview. It was going great until they said that they would pay me with exposure. Does one eat exposure? And it turns out I have far more twitter followers than they isn’t that ironic… oh how much more exposure would I benefit from them, its exploitation that’s what it is, say NO to slavery. Writers gotta eat too. I guess they didn’t take my response all too kindly because………..

If you having coffee with me or hot chocolate or whatever rocks your boat, its water that rocks boats by the way, I would ask you, your thoughts on regret letters, you know the ones you get from potential employers saying we regret to inform you will not be joining our organization or publishing your manuscript. I think they should state that either in the ref or first line of the email so you do no waste time finishing reading it. Sugar coating it telling by telling you what an awesome candidate you were and how they were thrilled you were interested in joining their company or publication services *blah* *blah* *blah* but then hidden somewhere in the last line almost like a forgotten Post Script oh yeah by the way we regret to say……. *Sigh*

If you were having with me, I would tell you, I recently had an epiphany, on three things.

  • Number 1 is that I have really brilliant ideas in my head, about life the universe and everything and my writing.
  • Number 2 is I really need to remember to write in my journal or something to capture all these thoughts so I can get back to them and polish them up for all they are worth.
  • Number 3…. I don’t remember but that brings me back to number 2

If you were having coffee with me I would say thank you for the visit how has your past week been, whats good whats really good, whats really really good. Here is to a brilliant new week.

If you were having coffee with me I would show you this picture of my niece, A baby on a motor bike Vroom vroom.



Of Castles in the Sand

Fireside Tales

Fireside Tales

The moon shone brightly as would a freshly minted silver coin, polished and valuable. He could feel the many pairs of eyes on him their silent plea almost palpable. He stoked the fire they were all gathered around, then cleared his throat as if he was about to speak but settled back into his ancient rocking chair. The chair creaked like a dying creature of the night. “Please sir” a little voice piped ‘Tell us a story” another chimed in. He looked around at the heads all nodding in agreement. This was part of the ritual on nights like this, he told stories, sometimes they had meaning, the value of a story without meaning you ask, why that’s the best kind of story, told simply for the telling.
“Very well” he finally acquiesced he took a long deep breath and let it out slowly “I will tell you the story of the day I died.” There was a collective gasp and a young voice asked “But grampa, if you died how come you are here with us?” He laughed then replied “Well maybe I am a ghost, anyhoo, I am the storyteller and the storyteller reshapes the tale but never lies.”
“Where to begin, where to begin” he muttered almost to himself. “Start at the beginning” someone yelled “The beginning is always a good place to start” another agreed.
“Very well, let me start at the beginning. On a moonless night, unlike this one I was born__” A voice cut him off just then, “But grandpa isn’t that too far back? Ma says we mustn’t stay up too late and you mustn’t tell us scary stories some of the youngins are scared of the dark.” “Child are you not afraid? You should be, witches are abroad this very hour” “Grandpa you mean the witches are overseas? Did they fly by aeroplane?” The old man laughed then replied “Remind me to never send you to law school.”
“I was born at precisely midnight on a moonless night unlike this one many moons ago. I was delivered by a half blind midwife in a hut without lights on the darkest night of the year. They tell me I never cried, not until sunrise and some said it was an omen that the darkness walked among us as man that day, marking souls to reap. I grew up knowing that the night was simply a shadow of the day and the time would come when I had to face the one who walks in the shadows, planted in the desert sand just like a root___”
“That’s when you died grampa, am I right?” a voice cut in again “No silly, he didn’t really die gramps was being metaflolyric” another answered.
“The word is metaphoric, now hush, as any man, I cared not much for darkness or being planted, so I went to see an old man, who knew many secrets, and is said to see more kneeling down than someone standing on his tiptoes on top of the highest mountain and that is metaphorically speaking. He told me, this man, that my destiny was to walk and find the secret at the heart of the desert. Many men attempted this journey, never to be heard of again but I knew I was different, was I not born on a dark night feared by wise man. I set out with only the clothes on my back, some sensible shoes and not much of common sense, because after what seemed an eternity of walking, I grew thirsty and had no water. I asked myself if anything could possibly get any worse, the desert accepted the challenge and conjured up a sand storm. Sand blown all over the place, howling as if the gate keepers of the beyond had come for me. I kept walking, by then rather, I think I was crawling up and down the massive dunes that seemed to pop up from nowhere. The storm passed, as all things do, nothing lasts forever, not even the bad things more so the good, the irony of balance.”
“After the storm, I had sand in my eyes, my clothes, sand in places you do not even want to know” Some giggling broke out, he waited for silence. “I was at my lowest my dreams crushed, lost and waiting to die, the desert does that, destroy dreams and kills flowers, it is a desert after all.” He paused to stoke the fire and to shift his position, the chair he sat on groaned as if in sympathy. “That is when I saw it, the oasis. A perfect island of lush green on a sea of sand….. and a castle. A castle in the desert, with a fountain in its courtyard I could almost taste the water that sparkled more precious than diamonds, diamonds to a man in the desert mean nothing but water, is life, and here was a fountain full of it, life. I descended from atop the dune tumbling, crawling and clawing my way with a purpose of singular intent, water. I dived into the fountain and that’s the last thing I clearly remember. I am told that I must have gotten lost and went round in circles till I ended up diving into the ancient well next to the old man’s house. I was found days later, dead they thought but miraculously I was still alive and recovered. They say castles in the desert are simply sand dunes and mirages of thirst addled brains but I know what I saw, now off to bed all of you us old ones never sleep because the story never ends, that’s immortality for you. When everyone was gone, he was the only one left, such as it is with all things. From underneath his tunic he brought a bottle on a silver chain, with water that sparkled beneath the silver moon, poured a drop on the ground and took a small sip.
The End.

On a whim I decided to dabble in a #blogbattle hosted by Rachael Ritchey and the theme: Oasis. This feels like my first night at Fight Club 🙂