Spit in my Left Eye

We try.... we grind. We cry .... despair. ... each day a plea..... God help us this world's aflame - Humanity rots before our eyes We pray We plead We despair hope flickers falters falters fades We try Grind cry despair Lord, exterminate this scourge. (C) Jambiya "The power of words".

Zimbabwe 1984 - I was a young girl who had a relatively easy and privileged upbringing in a middle class suburb in South Africa. We walked into a water crises - a system shocker. We bathed in each others water - whites, blacks, Indian. The team. We represented various nations of the world - the Zimbabwian rifles did not enjoy our presence - I was introduced to political strife as one regime positioned itself to overthrow another. It was my introduction to war outside of my own countries borders. We were hated and I didn't understand why, because our message was one of love. I sat with a "man-servant" (as they were called then), and heard his dry mouthed anxiety for the future - bread and butter; His next job; unwittingly a victim of a socio-economic alcatraz. A little blonde-haired girl crawled onto my lap and asked why I had such curly hair - Amongst my black sisters my hair was "white". Indians embraced me more because they saw my gra

When I come face to face with desolation; naked trauma caused by absent fathers my head and heart screams - it screams in anger and frustration - I want to use uninvented expletives because my pen must translate the pain and anger your absence has caused. Hollow Contemptible candy ass impotent grey matter, wretched scrotum sac. Preachers, pastors ministers I don't care how called you are - tend to your children - and no! Not the ones who call you "papa or daddy" and give you a spiritual ego-rise and a backstroke; but the ones you fathered with your blood. Mr executive, effervescent maestro  jelly bean businessman or trying tycoon You are a dangerous speciman of seminal vesicles when finance replaces your footprint. You leave broken children wallowing in torment and affliction; craving affirmation and value; prey for poachers. I'm sick and tired of crying with those who mourn your absence yet not your death. your rejection of your own would give

 A Nigerian Pastor We have a human instinct to curry favour with "big, popular names", we support and engage them - we use our energies to be where they are and to get them to where we are - we desire the connection. Often in doing so we miss the truly big names who are silently going about the business they've been called to do. We converse but little do we realise where theyve been, what they've done, what they're doing and how God will use them to take us closer to His purpose. We have no idea of the greats amongst us. It makes me think of a few years ago, when a Nigerian pastor treated me like a princess and carried my bags, served me tea - booked me /us into a hotel - he wanted to spoil us missionaries -   he was so humble,  simply dressed, humorous and soft spoken; unassuming - then I heard the receptionist address him, "welcome Dr.......".  The pastor was a physicist - a well known genius 😃 of course, that would not have registered in