khayadlanga khayadlanga

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khaya dlanga  Leader of the People's Army Against Typo Nazis. Author of Alan Paton Prize shortlisted book, To Quote Myself. Johannesburg, South Africa 🇿🇦

Ran into Cara yesterday and I remembered experiencing men are trash with her. We worked for the same ad agency and we were in Cape Town for Design Indaba.
I was out partying in the early hours of the morning when I felt my phone vibrating. I reached into my pocket. Cara’s name was flashing across the screen.
I answered, she was in a state. She told me she tried to call several people but no one answered. ”What’s wrong?” I asked. ”There are guys outside my door and they keep knocking. They’ve been knocking and telling me to open the door for 30 minutes. I am so scared.” The fear and panic in her voice were unmistakable.

I asked her to text her room number. I hailed a cab. This was B.U. (Before Uber). I got to the hotel and got to reception to see if I could get someone to walk up with me. There was no one there.
I walked up the stairs, and I heard knocking. I saw four massive guys. They were part of a visiting Argentine varsity rugby team. ”What’s going on here?” I said.
They turned when they heard my voice as I walked up the stairs, I tried to sound as I unintimidated as possible. Those guys could have wholly kicked my butt and beat me senseless.
I saw a sudden panic in them. ”We are looking for our friend.” They said. ”Well, your friend is not in this room. Why do you keep knocking for thirty minutes? Try the next room.” I said as I pointed to the only other room.
When Cara heard my voice, she opened the door. I could see the complete horror and fear on her face. ”Go on, knock next door maybe your friend is there,” I said as I became increasingly confident because they suddenly didn't know what to do. They just stood there sheepishly. ”I suggest you leave if you won’t knock there.” I went into Cara’s room, and she locked it. She was so scared I ended up sleeping on the couch because she felt unsafe.

I woke up the next morning to go to my room and showered.
We as men have to stop making women unsafe. Intoxication is not an excuse because they stopped as soon as I arrived.
We have to stop being trash. We are entitled to nothing. Women should need no protection, their world should be safe from us.

I’ll just leave this here 😂🤣😂😂

Pencil sharpeners remind me of a snitch. I went to a school called Little Flower after my mother removed me from the village school. When I got there as a nine-year-old soon to be ten, I couldn’t speak English. The extent of my English was, “My name is...” The school was run by an Austrian nun who was a strict disciplinarian. We were all given three months to speak English without lacing our sentences with Xhosa words. If you were caught speaking complete Xhosa sentences you would be punished. For those of us in boarding school, they would cover your mouth with tell-tale for three hours, if your three hours fell between meals, tough luck, you wouldn't eat.
Unfortunately for one boy, Thobile, it took him a really long time to learn to speak in English.

One day, he needed to sharpen his pencil. Another boy was already standing over the dustbin sharpening his pencil. He was the smallest boy in the class and constantly seeking the teacher’s approval. I saw him hand a sharpener to Thobile and then approach the teacher. ‘Thobile just spoke Xhosa, Miss,’ he whispered to her, just loud enough for the rest of the class to hear, but faking discretion at the same time. We all looked up from their books in horror. He did what? We were all thinking it. ‘What did he say?’ she asked.
‘He said, “Khawuthi umshini ndithishwele-shwele.”’ (‘Give me the sharp- ener so that I can just, quick, quick.’) Upon hearing this horror – a child speaking his mother tongue in class – she summoned him.

She made him lift his hand and began hitting him on his palm with a stick.
‘What did I say, Thobile?’ she asked as she struck him.
‘Did you say Miss!’
’Did you say Miss!’ Thobile tried in his best English while screaming from the pain.
‘What did I say, Thobile?’ she asked him again as her stick repeatedly came down on his hand.
‘Did you say Miss! Did you say Miss!’ Thobile failed again to respond in appropriate English.
Back then it was amusing but when I thought about it years later, I was bothered that we were somehow made to feel ashamed of speaking our mother tongue.
Anyway, I will never look at a sharpener and not think of, ’Did you say Miss!’

Someone asked me a very interesting question a while ago. "What's your secret to always being happy?" The first thing I asked myself, "Am I actually always happy?" The truth is I am happy a lot of the time, but I am not always happy. I get sad, upset, angry but not long enough for those emotions to ruin my day.
Sometimes it feels like we are not supposed to say we are happy or show that we are.
In high school, this beautiful girl walked past me frowning, and said, ”Why are you always smiling?” after that, whenever I caught myself smiling, I would stop. But that only lasted a few days, I forgot and got back to spilling.
1: I think happiness is not some feeling you only feel inside. It has a lot to do with being actively getting rid of negative energies.
2: I don't hold grudges. If you hold grudges, you are actively participating in your unhappiness. (but boy, can I be petty 😂, which is not the same thing as a grudge)
3: I don't spend time thinking about what could have been. It's gone, no use thinking about it.
4: I don't take myself too seriously. People who take themselves too seriously spend too much time telling themselves what they are not supposed to do. This restricting truly living.

5: I try not to be more concerned about appearances rather than the satisfaction of my soul.
6: I try as much as I can not to deny my soul.
7: I do not control others. If you try to control someone else, there is something profoundly unhappy and insecure in you.
8: I give people around me the freedom to be themselves because I also want them to be comfortable with me being me.
9: I don't spend too much time wondering what people think of me.
10: I am perfectly happy being silly and living a childlike existence. This is why I think it's essential to act your personality because it is a link to your soul.

11: I am more interested in what I think is cool rather than what others think is.
I say ’I try’ because I am not always successful.

My 93-year-old great aunt was about to wash dishes when I surprised her. She smothered me with kisses and then started admonishing me for only seeing her once last year. She has every right. Promised to see her next month. When I see her, I will talk to her about her secret of a long and active life.

The earliest memory I have of my uncle is of him doing that thing all children love; holding you under the armpits and then throwing you into the air and then catching you again.

He suffered from a stroke a few years ago and fought back hard. He has been a source of inspiration even if I was observing from a distance. Some of us are fortunate to have members of our family we can look up to and show you what’s possible.
I remember hearing a story of how instrumental in he was in stopping the hostel violence in the in 90s. And how he almost got killed while doing it.
I asked how he survived. He had gone to a hostel and he was kidnapped by hostel dwellers because he is Xhosa and they told him they were going to kill him. He told them to wait for him to pray first and then they were free to kill him. He prayed, by the time he was done, and opened his eyes, there was not a dry eye.
When I asked what he prayed. He said he has no idea and he had resigned himself to dying.
They decided not to kill him and wanted to listen to what he had come to say to them.
After that, he was given free passage to talk peace in hostels.
He told me that one of the most effective ways he employed to stop the fighting was by asking them one simple question. He would turn to the Zulus and ask, “Who amongst you has had his land stolen by the Xhosas?” There would be no answer. Then he would turn to the Xhosas and ask, “Who amongst you has had his land stolen from him by a Zulu?” Again, there would be no answer.

And then he would say, “You should not be fighting each other, but you should be uniting and fighting against those who stole your land. This is what they want you to do, to fight each other instead.” (Also, I would find it disturbing when I would see girls salivating over him. A whole bishop guys 😂🤣😂)

My great aunt is on my case again about getting married. It’s her gospel every time she sees me 😂
I feel like she’s been saying she 93 for the last two years 🤔

“The fault dear Brutus, is not in our stars, but in ourselves.” William Shakespeare.
I have known people who remained through to their character regardless of what was going on around them. They may have moved up slower, but their slow steady pace has somehow helped them.
I have seen some who have gone with whatever Jo’burg winds there may be. They soared, flew close to the sun, then were bruised, beaten, broken and learned, got stronger. And there are others who remained broken.
I have heard the deepest sermons from the so-called slay-queens and marveled at the judgement of some church-goers.
Nobody is one thing. And no one is only the thing you dislike.
Like Jo’burg. It is not one thing. You will find anything you’re looking for but don’t get lost in the process. To be fair, Jo’burg breaks nobody, you break yourself against Jo’burg.
P.s. the screenshot is a quote from my book, To Quote Myself.

Looks like @olwe2lesh is not the only person who does not respect me. @thembisamdoda has join the chorus of the disrespectful 😭😂🤣😂

This was my room when I lived in a digs in Pinelands. Just behind me is the most expensive item I had ever spent money on at the time. The CD player radio was R550; I couldn't believe I had spent that much on a single item. My rent was R450. Linda, Caroline, Patrick, Simon, Russell, were my generous housemates.
The room was super tiny. I needed a single step from the table to my bed. I had a single bed, the one without springs but planks. It had a simple sponge mattress. If you jumped on the bed, you'd probably break it.
I had two jobs. I was a waiter and my second one didn't pay. If I had a day shift at the restaurant, I would go to the office where we were trying to build a magazine for teenagers. If I worked evenings, in the day time I would call up principals of schools all over the Western Cape and ask them to permit me to address the school assembly so that I would tell them about the magazine, which was free but they had to subscribe.
In this picture, I was inputting the details of the kids who had subscribed. It was painstaking and time consuming work. I addressed just under 120 schools. The Seven 11 packet is a pack full of subscriptions from a single school. I must have spoken to over 100 000 kids in the Western Cape in a year.

The second picture is of me addressing one of the many schools, Pinelands High. A lot of the white schools had never been addressed by a black person. I went to the richest and poorest schools in the province.
I couldn’t drive so one of my colleagues would drive me a school. Brendan, Sean and Susanna, were my drivers.
Chloe, our fearless leader at the magazine made sure that I addressed these schools and the principals. Sometimes she would come with me to address the schools and then pray for the principals too 😂

An aside here: I was being shown around one school before assembly by a teacher. When we got to the hall, the old apartheid flag was still hanging. It was an Afrikaans school. I was whisked away quickly out of the hall. When I addressed the school, the old apartheid flag had mysteriously vanished and was replaced by the new flag.
I was 21/22 at the time. I even had a business card for a job which had no salary 😂

An #MCM Who does Miss World lean on when she is not strong? Lord Bae, also reigning Mr. Heaven of course. 🤣

Even in Heaven he won MCM of the millennium.

Won best dressed man and woman at @drmusamthombeni’s #BigDzaddysPjParty
One Onesie to rule them all

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