It is a wet and rainy night, as I look over the open space between my desk and the window that separates me from the storm raging outside , I compare the storm raging outside of me with that which rages in me, and wonder which I prefer; memories of childhood comeback; running around in the village while it rained, and my grand mum of blessed memories, screaming her lungs off asking , threatening, and ultimately pleading with us kids- my cousins and siblings to come back in so we don't catch our deaths, oh ! how I love, and miss my childhood, doesn't mean I don't love adulthood, however the complexities, the war is ultimately against life it self, but its the small skirmishes that wear you down; teenage, oh teenage my mind tells me not to even go there, and I wonder as I remember what those years were like; rebellious, reckless, but somehow I managed to keep the boundaries sacrosanct, now I must manage my 3 teenagers; actually 2 and half, the half if you ask me is more an older soul than the first two.
As I sit here listening to Ngibambeni, from Sibongile Khumalo's Immortal Secrets album, I remember the night I had to have the dreaded conversation with my budding daughter; acne, pubescence, cleanliness, boys and sex, it took me weeks of talking to my female friends; mothers and single girls alike, I scoured the net to find appropriate words to say to this child; so exited about breast getting bigger, and saying finally I can have something worthwhile to contribute while we talk in school; for all I had heard over the months preceding this was how she is the oldest by months, and the last waiting for her period, I was filled with pride and joy, that coming forth is a woman, a lady, an individual, and promised myself I must do right by her; by them all.
Anyways, we eventually talked generally, and warmed our way down the road less traveled by a lot of parents; for those mums and dads who venture it, it is discussed such that both the dad/parent and child walk away more confused than convinced, needless to say; a quick short prayer for the right words to explain, and we settled in, et voila! my baby had info, was my discovery, so it turned out to be more a myth buster than talk, though a lot more shared; we delude ourselves that these kids do not know, with the coming of the age of infotech, parents are the worse off, mobile phones with WAP and what you hide from them is a click, and icon away, would you rather play catch up or play along.
A fierce conversation rages still between lightning and thunder, and so rages my internal battles, should I, or should I stew in it some more, as I have come to learn; all answers to life's questions lay deep in us, we only need be still, and ponder to find them, gosh! I love music and the saying that music is an international language- this album says it all, clueless I am about what she croons, however there is here now an eurythymic, I want , no I desire a session of catharsis; mind willing body not ready to deal with the out pouring, what the heck is going on?
I do not see the release happening tonight, I shall pray and look forward to another time and pray I find the release
