Child Marriage

“I feel a sense of panic rise up from within me, as my eyes fill up with unshed tears. Why me? How l wished and prayed this day would never come. l have finally gotten my period and l know that my family will now recognise me as a woman.

A woman, who now has a noose around her neck. I know l shall be forced to marry that lecherous old man, who has been lustily staring at my budding breasts since l was twelve years old. How can l refuse? The money from my lobola will go towards my brother’s education and l will no longer be a burden or curse around my parent’s shoulders but their saviour from poverty.

Time passes so quickly, l never thought that a year ago when l was fifteen that l would be here. The old woman is telling me to push but l have no more strength. I push one more time and there is my blood covered daughter. I am sorry my daughter, l have failed you. I have failed to protect you from this vicious world, that took away my innocence also. I wish l could protect you from the same cycle as me but that choice is not mine to have.”

This is just one of the stories l have encountered and heard of in my community. Child marriages have become the norm in Zimbabwe and people have become so desensitised to this that we no longer blink an eye at such stories. As a young millennial observing this my heart goes out to the young mother and her child but l am ashamed when l secretly feel relieved it is not me in her situation.

I ask myself, did she not have any dreams or goals she wanted to accomplish before she had to be used as a pawn through which her family would lift themselves out of poverty? She had to give birth at home because she could not afford to go to hospital and in the process risking her life to just become another statistic of a high maternal mortality rate in Zimbabwe. I know that she shall continuously give birth until she has a son so as to please her older husbands patriarchal need to prove himself as a man if he has sons and if this does not happen l know he shall beat her brutally just like he did barely a few hours after their daughter’s birth.

The most heart-breaking thing is that as a community our hands are tied; Zimbabwean culture dictates we must not interfere in such matters as they are considered “private marital affairs.” But at what cost, that of a young girl whose future has been robbed and that of her innocent child whose future will likely be the same because that is the norm if society continues to gag and cover such issues?

We should be ashamed! I know l am.

Source: Anonymous( did not want identity revealed)


A baby in a crate

A baby in a crate is a curious thing.

Every Monday,Wednesday and Friday, on my way to school, on a street stewn with litter, l always come across a baby in a red,plastic crate a little way away from her blind mother who begs in the street.

It is a heartbreaking sight, but what has always struck me is the joy that radiates from her little face.She is a bright spot in her mothers otherwise dark world and distressing situation.

l believe she keeps her mother going and maybe when the mother feels like she is unworthy in this world she only has to listen for her baby’s muted giggles on a crowded,urine scented street pavement.

The baby is a support system and sounding board for her mother.As a young person still navigating life l have come to realise that having people who l can come to whenever and who support and guide me through life is a necessity with which l cannot do without.

…and when l feel unworthy and want to give up l only have to listen for their muted echoes of support and prayer.

…and when l feel euphoric and happy about the woman l am evolving into, their chants of celebration are a chorus to a song l can play on loop.

We all have our own versions of a crowded pavement, strewn with litter,some cleaner than others but l hope we can all find and have our own version of a giggling baby in a crate keeping us going.

Thank you mama,daddy,Tanya,Joyce,the friends who have become family and the cheerleaders who always pass my pavement for being my baby in a crate.

…and God for choosing me and finding me worthy of being a giggling baby in a crate for so many others.


I have come to the conclusion that l can never settle for mediocrity.

l am sure the next question would be, why would anyone want to be mediocre in the first place?

Here are some answers l had come up:

  • to appear humble
  • the excitement notoriety would fade after a while
  • but the most telling to me was mediocrity is a comfort and safe zone for many of us.

That is until l got a cold blast of reality… when l came across a group of people who will never settle for mediocrity but whose passion,creativity and uniqueness allowed them to rise on a pedestal at which they cannot help but be noticed.

What l observed is that when you fully embrace yourself and let go of self consciousness and unworthiness, that is a yoke on many of our necks, and choose to not adhere to the status quo; you shine and people gravitate towards the light that is within you.

This was particularly evident to me when l attended an event recently and came across three similar,yet, so distinctly,unique women.

The first, a young woman who in my books has always shunned uniformity and paved her own way, for example she left her full time job to pursue creative design and blogging.l mean who does that in Zim?! Where from birth it is hammered into you that you must get an education (degree,masters,phd) and a white collar 9 to 5 job for people to recognise you have achieved something in life (…anywho that is a topic for another day).But,what struck a chord within me is that in life you have to be brave to be happy and to find fulfillment. This young woman is Natasha Matipano a.k.a TashaMat and it was her first hair blog meet and greet brunch l was attending and it was life changing.

TashaMat and I

The second, a woman who does not need you to announce her arrival but ,exudes it from the top of her shaved head to the tip of her high heeled shoes.She talked about immersing yourself fully in whatever you do and not blurring the lines between situations in life but focusing on the present that you are in. These words were worth their weight in gold because it was a reminder and a strong critique. If you are doing something do it wholeheartedly and not in halves, half baked things have never satisfied anyone and maybe that is why we are never thankful or grateful for what we have or who we are because we want to be someone else or somewhere else instead of immersing ourselves and just being.So next time laugh fully,eat that food,climb that combi and learn a new thing and slay that boring 9-5 or that essay at school.Remember embrace living! The woman that taught me this is none other than Chenesai Mangoma

Lastly, is a woman who really challenged me to embrace my mane of glory a.k.a my natural and kinky african hair.As women of the darker variety of melanin scale we have been subjected to thinking of our hair as something that is to be tamed,burnt and hidden for centuries and asked to settle for what what was deemed okay by the world.But,the time has come for us to embrace and love our hair wholeheartedly in all of its versatile forms and colours it comes in i.e straight,curly,kinky,braided,weaved,locked,bald,etc. Why should you be ashamed of something that God deemed worthy and perfect to be adorned on your head.This lesson l learned from Shingi Ziki

The reason why l didn’t give a background of occupation,family and education of the 3 women is because these titles or things is not what defines them but the substance and wisdom that radiates from within them.Though if you still curious look them up on social media better still reach out to them you never know what you could also learn.

Feel free to comment and share.The rest of the pics you can find on my facebook account under the album name ‘The Hosting Club’.

The Be A Blessing Project

The other day l was sitting in a combi when l noticed towards the front a man in a suit.What caught my attention was his posture,the way he seemed so sure of himself and his place in the world.l envied his confidence.l assumed that he was probably in the combi because his car was being serviced or something.So you can imagine my surprise when l called out my stop and he signalled to the driver to stop.He was in fact the ‘conductor’,for a moment there all l could do was sit there with my mouth open in shock.

As l disembarked, all l could feel was an overwhelming sense of sorrow,for the person l had imagined him to be and the reality of the situation.

l could only imagine what his dreams had been growing up.Was his wearing a suit still an acknowledgement of the dream within him?

You see that is the reality for many,we never get the chance or opportunity to live the dream or we lose sight of it and give up.

This man reminded me of myself in August of 2014 when l decided to start The Be A Blessing Project.The idea behind it was looking for people who had decided to look outside of the box and reach for their dreams and hear their story.

l was 14 years old and had a hunger for inspiration and motivation.l remember the surprise of the people l had decided to interview on meeting me in person their reactions were hilarious.

For one thing,on our initial contact l had come across as someone who was mature beyond my years and some had even thought l was a journalist!

When in fact,l was just a girl who wanted to know more of the people who had in my eyes reached for their dreams and were living the ‘dream‘ so as to know how my generation and l could do that too.

This was the beginning of The Be A Blessing Project a.k.a thebabproject.

to be continued…


Hello, so this is me …

It’s been a while since l have put pencil to paper and dreamt and just breathed and just lived and just dared to have hope.

So to know me, is to know my vision, is to know my dreams, is to know hope but along the way that all kind of got lost in translation and l got confused and stopped believing.

You see acknowledging that you have stopped believing makes start to believe that you are a failure, not worthy and alone.

I believed and believe in God, but for a moment there l couldn’t see the light at the end of the tunnel…l have always been and will always be a person who believes that God has set me here on earth for a plan and purpose that is greater than myself and it is my duty to see it through and make an impact for His glory.

So from a young age, l started to affirm Jeremiah 29:11 without even having read it before and this gave me an unshakeable belief and faith that l could conquer and be whatever l could want and l could succeed.

l succeeded, l walked the talk of the verses l read and people believed in me and so did l.

But, along the teenage way l stopped believing in myself ,however, others still did so l put up a facade so as to keep up with appearances until l couldn’t any longer and just went blank.

So here we are now, starting again.