Motive

Yesterday on Facebook I posed a question to husbands asking their motive for doing things for their wives (cooking, cleaning, helping with the kids etc), if they even do. Is it actuated by obligation or because they want something in return or is it actuated by love? I only got two responses (from wives). One wife saying she believes her husband does what he does out of love and she thinks her submission to him has something to do with it. The other said her husband does it to lessen her burden and she believes it comes from his love for her. Now this was not meant as some kind of competition between their love or obligation,  but merely coming from a point of wanting to understand motive and why it is people have the motive they do.

The initial starting point, as I said on Facebook, was from a conversation some friends and my husband were having where our husbands were adamant that they DO cook. It got me thinking of the reason why they cooked. But in a broader context my question stemmed from some experiences some women have had and these made me think that we are the way we are because of how we have been brought up. Please understand that I'm not saying we are void of the ability to make our own choices, but read on and you will see what I mean.

I grew up in a township and the way I saw guys treat women I told myself that I would never have a relationship with such a man, let alone marry one as such. Women were just things to be used and thrown away until the next best one came along. They were just good enough to get your house (or outside room) cleaned and your belly filled and then discarded. Now please, this is not to say EVERY guy from the township is like this. No. There are some gems. But in general (and only from my perspective back then) this is what I saw.  Where did they learn this behaviour from? I mean if you wanted to be treated well or taken out or have doors opened for you they'd tell you this is not a movie. So you can imagine what shapes them to be like that and what their words were shaping me and other ladies to be like in thinking of ourselves. Sometimes I don't get surprised when black women have such low expectations for themselves and they will tolerate the most terrible relationships. They've seen and heard such bad behaviour and words that that's what they believe and they don't know that there is something better. Now this opens up a huge can of worms and I could write so much just based on this last sentence but I will stick to this topic.

To some, love is waking up to an empty sink.

I was reminded of some women who were telling me that they were so sick that they were bed-ridden and the husbands (separate husbands for separate women... just to make sure we're on the same page here) came to them to ask what's for supper  or what they're going to eat. Moments later the kids came to ask the same thing. I mean come on! Is there no bread? If the husbands can't or won't cook could they not have at least made sandwiches and tea or cooldrink? I mean the women were sick in bed and yet were still expected to get up and prepare a meal. And can you see how the children have followed the footsteps of their fathers? Chances are that when they grow up the boys will expect that of their wives and the girls will think that's just the way things are and won't know that there are men out there who actually care for their wellbeing.

Now juxtapose this last paragraph to a 14 year old boy in the states whose mom was sick and he cooked a whole meal for his family, including his dad. This to me says he was taught to cook and that he must have seen his dad taking care of his mom and so he was moved to play his part and help out by doing something he didn't have to do as a kid, but he knew how to do it and he knew that it would help his mom while she's sick. See the difference? This good deed or good behaviour was modeled to him and so he followed suit. This was a black kid. But what do black kids this side of the world see? Now this is not to say that white or colored people don't mistreat their wives, it's just that the people around me are predominantly black and South African so this is what I've seen. So we essentially perpetuate the behaviour that has been modeled to us.

If black South African guys are taught that they are men and should never be caught dead in the kitchen or changing diapers or the likes, then that's what they grow up believing and that's what they grow up being, unless they choose to change. And if they won't even do those things, you can forget about getting the car or any other door opened or getting help carrying things or generally being treated like a lady. You are a woman and you must do the duties of a woman and that's that. Sadly for many women this is a reality.

So those of us who have loving husbands who treat us like the queens that we are, or at least they try their best to, we should be really grateful coz other women have it really bad. And you know, when we experience love from our husbands, things like submission and respect are second nature to us. They just flow so easily from us and we love to do them without even realising we're doing them because they are just part of us. Sadly, other men demand respect and submission and yet they show no love and protection for their wives. Their wives don't feel secure in them or their suppposed love for them.

I hope one day we will all have role models that we may learn to love, honor, cherish and respect one another and in turn be those role models. But while we still have men being taught to change from one woman to another and abusing the "place" or role of women in society, we will continue to have sisters doing it for themselves, women who would rather have careers than raise a family and making a home, women who want to to break free from the so-called stronghold of marriage all because they are mistreated. By the looks of things we have a long way to go. But I have hope, and I believe that when we have good homes then we can have good communities.

So check your motive. Why do you do what you do? Why don't you do what you should do? Is it right? Are you willing to change for the better? I hope so...

Blue Monday

Why is it that anything that can go wrong will go wrong on a Monday? It's as though Monday says "Oh you had a good weekend huh? Well enough of dreaming, come back to reality!" And then continues to slap you in the face with every moomish that he (or maybe it's a she given the mood swings) has up her sleeve. But we humans are resilient. No matter what Monday throws at us, we find a way to move on and eventually Monday is over and we'll have survived. I'm sure you all have your blue Monday stories... Here's mine:

The day started off well: I wrote, completed and published a blog, which is something I haven't done in a long time. It felt great. And then Mzo (my son) woke up and I thought ok let's do this... only to find out he peed on himself so his pj's, sheet and mattress were wet. So I had to wash all that after having changed the bedding just last week. Fabulous. As we were outside Mzo was picking the tomatoes and throwing and kicking them coz to him they're balls. And so I decided let's just pick all the ones that are ready and put them in the fridge. Everything seemed fine after that.

Fast forward to the afternoon. I really didn't want to go outside so I decided to do an activity with Mzo. I'd seen an activity in his old Sabbath School lesson books on making stars. I thought this would be a great idea... only the book doesn't tell you HOW to make them. So I improvised. Cut out some star shapes from newspaper  stuck it together so the stars are a bit thicker. Then I thought let's make our own paint with flour, water and salt. I was sure I had orange food coloring in my cupboard. Alas! It was orange essence. Big difference! But we continued and painted our stars with our flour paint. That will make them nice and sturdy.  I showed Mzo how to use the paint brush to paint and he was doing great. Well, that is until he decided this paint brush thing was just not working for him. He decided he was going to use his hands. And that he did. So there went the goo from hand to star.  I guess he found the squishiness quite fascinating coz after that he forgot about the stars and smeared the flour mixture all over his hands. Lovely! More cleaning for me on top of the sink full of dishes and the dusty floors before having to start on supper. 





Nap time was filled with screaming, but that's an everyday thing so nothing new. So as he started dozing off I lay beside him and the next thing I knew,  I was waking up. Wait a minute! What?! Yep, I fell asleep for a whole hour and a half. The time now was 16:33 and I had done absolutely nothing on the house. But I guess the nap helped because I got everything done in no time and supper was just 30min late, but still delicious.

After all that drama, guess what... Monday was gone... but she'll be back next week. Don't let her get you down with her tricks. Just carry on because soon a new day will come, filled with its own interesting surprises. It helps to know that all things work together for good to them who love the Lord. Sometimes it doesn't feel like it, but I don't have to feel it to know that it's true.

Hair Again

So after the whole thing with itshanda (bold spot)... wait did I tell you about that? Let me tell you about it quickly:

I went to do cornrows (as usual) at this other salon. Now this is usually a super quick exercise but not on this particular day. See, on this fateful day my stylist kept leaving me undone to go and cook pap on request by her husband or kids... I'm not sure. She left me so many times that I'd been there for a couple of hours now and getting so irritated. When she came back she would try do my hair faster than usual but this caused her to make mistakes.

Some hair from one cornrow would be stuck under hair from another cornrow and this caused so much pain (I'm sure fellow cornrowers know what I'm talking about). I told her about this and she said she would fix it. Gullable me thought she did fix it until I got home and realised she didn't as I was now in extreme pain. All the way down my neck and across my shoulders.  After three nights of not being able to sleep (even after taking pain killers) I did the sensible thing: I took a pair of scissors and started cutting the pain away (I.e. cutting the hair that was stuck). What relief! Well... until...

When I took the cornrows out I realised I'd actually cut the root of my hair not the top, and so as the cornrow came loose, so did chunks and chunks of my hair. The result? A huge bold spot at the back of my head. Why didn't I just take out the cornrows you ask? You mean you want me to undo all that hair after all that time I sat there having it done? You mean you're asking me to go back and sit there AGAIN? You mean you want me to pay more money on top of what I'd already paid? No thanks... So there I sat with the bold spot. Yes, yes it's my own fault I know, let's move on from there. 

Fast forward and we're at the beginning of this blog. So now that you know the story I sat with the problem because my dear husband refused that I cut my hair. Luckily my other hair was long enough to cover the spot but that meant I had to tie my hair all the time and tie it at the bottom of my head... no upstyles. I struggled with this a lot and after some time of talking and explaining and begging and and and, we came to the conclusion that I could at least braid my hair. Oh Victory! The relief...

So I sat having it done (opted for a different style to what I wanted initially because of time) and I remembered why I vowed NEVER to braid my hair ever again... the PAIN! YHO! I wanted to die. I wanted to just be finished. What is it about hair pain that makes one so... cheeky-angry of sorts? My goodness! Suffer for beauty for what? For who? I NEEDED this nightmare to be over... and eventually it was.

There are literally two people who understand my hair and the super sensitivity of my scalp: my friend Jane and my former hairstylist Eve. With these two, braiding was quick and painless. Unfortunately I live so far from them that they can't do my hair anymore... shame for me... but you know I was thinking, we feel this excrutiating pain and yet we go back over and over again for the same pain. For me once the braids have settled and the pain is gone I love the convenience I enjoy. Hair is really stressful and time-consuming and so sometimes I'd rather endure a few days of pain knowing it will be worth a few months of freedom. Why do you go back?

Now that I've started with braiding, I need to continue so that boldy back there can grow then maybe I can ease up on the braids. But until then, bring them braids on... pain and all...