If We Were Having Coffee | Home

If we were having coffee, I will tell you that during this week I have been drifting in and out of depression, alienation, home-sickness, unfulfillment, happiness, laughter, hopelessness, sadness, love, sadness, hopelessness, laughter, happiness, unfulfillment, homesickness, alienation, depression… have you felt like that before, I’ll ask?

If we were having coffee, I’ll tell you how winter is slowly creeping in here in Cape Town, how it’s so cold at night especially where I live, close to the beach. So you can imagine how cold it gets especially when the tide is high. At night we can hear the sound of the waves crashing on the beach. It is a soothing sound as well as scary. I ask you how people who live where it actually snows survive. I wonder if I would!

If we were having coffee, I would tell you that last week and this has been awesome in my blogosphere world! I attended my first blog party at Suzie81 Speaks and made a lot of new friends and one of my new friends nominated me for the Liebster award. I got nominated, can you imagine that! And, one of my post ‘One day. Maybe got featured on Lifetitudes blog- that was the icing on the cake. All sorts of warm nice feeling going through me just remembering!

If we were having coffee, I will tell you about the xenophobic attacks in South Africa and how blessed I am that it’s not happening in Cape Town but in Johannesburg and Durban but that doesn’t make me feel any better because sometimes I am scared and also lives are being butchered because people are just plain wicked. I will tell you about how people I haven’t heard from in 10 years or in months have been reaching out to me to find out if I’m safe and I tell them that I am, I live in Cape Town. Oh and yeah, that I live among ‘white’ people. I know right! Living among ‘white’ people is such a comfort at times like this. I reached out to friends of mine yesterday who live in Johannesburg worried about their safety. Guess what they told me? Hey, we live in an all ‘white’ dominated suburb so we’re safe!

Can you imagine, that now living among ‘white’ people is a kind of protection against people who have the same color of skin as yours but just because you are a foreigner in their own country you are somewhat different and in danger? 

I don’t even want to go into details about the why’s and the what’s. About why I wonder why they are not attacking the white foreigners too. I don’t even read the news about the xenophobic attacks anymore. The images disturb me. I don’t think I was built to feel and take that much pain. I break into pieces. I am afraid that my heart would be filled with hate. Hate for ‘black’ South Africans. I’m seriously slipping into it so I try not to read about what wickedness they have been up to recently… but then if I hate, how am I different from them? Those people who are killing my people and other black African foreigners? How? Grouping every ‘black’ South Africans among the wicked ones just like the wicked ‘black’ South Africans have grouped all ‘black’ foreigners into a box of those who allegedly take their jobs, sell drugs and other alleged crimes? You see this does not make ‘hate’ and ‘killing’ acceptable. I remind myself that I have met wonderful ‘black’ South Africans. It is a constant battle not to let my heart be filled with hate. I want to hate. I seriously don’t know how Jesus does it, all that love even when we don’t deserve it? I duff my hat to Him today.

I miss home terribly at this moment. 

If only it was that easy to pack up and leave. What about those who can’t leave? Who come from war-torn countries? Where am I going to start from if I go home now and yes, I am now used to this country even though it was here that I realized that I was black! Seriously! It was a rude shock!! This place has become my home in the last 6 years. I’ve fallen in love with this place, the mountains, the beach close to my home, the weather that has mood swings like a troubled woman, the first time I conquered my fear of heights and climbed Lions Head which is 2,195 ft above sea level (I’ll never try that again!), first place I ever saw penguins (I kept looking for Mumble and hoping I’ll see him do the happy feet dance!) and I also discovered the love for running and cycling.

If we were having coffee, I would tell you how this very moment I really, really miss home. The saying “there’s no place like home” makes so much sense right now.

If We Were Having Coffee‘, a weekly ‘Weekend Coffee Share’ and link up hosted by Part-Time Monster.

One day. Maybe.

One day maybe you’ll ask me to stay 
a little longer when I tell you, I have to go…

One day maybe you’ll call me on the phone
and tell me you miss me, and ask to see me…

One day maybe you’ll ask me out
for a cup of coffee, a movie or just go sit in the park…

One day maybe you’ll take my hand
slide your fingers through mine, just because…

One day maybe you’ll kiss me, look into my eyes
and tell me that I’m the best thing that has ever happened to you…

One day. 


Marilyn Monroe’s crimson lips and not giving up on life

Sometime ago, Marilyn Monroe’s siren red lips was voted the most iconic beauty trend of all time.

The Hollywood star sported the striking bright pout during the 1950s and 1960s – most famously in the 1955 film, The Seven Year Itch – and MAC Cosmetics even created a lipstick range in her honor.


I couldn’t stop looking at her pictures! She was so BEAUTIFUL! I can understand all those men who chased after her and her fans who adored her. Her look of innocence was so alluring, captivating and radiated when she smiled- If only they knew how much sadness it was covering.

This post was supposed to be about how her crimson lips was voted the most iconic trend of all time but going through her pictures kinda made me sad. I don’t really know her full story. Mostly what I know is from watching Smash.

It just made me aware of how depression affects our lives and sometimes we don’t do anything about it till it’s too late. Depression is like a well (like the one you draw water from), a deep dark well. Each stage of depression takes you further, deeper into that well till you can’t see a single ray of light. When you’ve reached rock bottom is when there’s going to be serious trouble. You grope around the well, looking for something to hold on to, to climb out, but you can’t. It’s too dark and the walls are slippery. You try and try, but then fatigue creeps in and you can’t find the strength anymore to fight, to live… and then, you give up…

One of the secrets to dealing with depression especially when you feel yourself falling deep into that well, is to PLEASE speak to somebody close to you, that you love, a friend, a mentor, somebody, ANYBODY, because you don’t want to get to the bottom of that well. It’s frightening, dark and lonely down there and it’s really hard to come out when you’ve reached the bottom. I know…

You are beautiful, gorgeous, special, someone’s best friend, mother, daughter, sister, wife, aunty. You mean so much to lots of people and there are also quite a number of people’s destiny’s that are tied to yours. If you give up, so will that one person you would have offered a job, that child you would have brought forth to the world, that man whose life will change because of your love, that person who was about to commit suicide but changed her mind when you smiled and hugged her…

DON’T DIE! DON’T GIVE UP YET! Just one more day… One more step…

Remember: When the world says, “Give up, “Hope whispers, “Try it one more time.”

For Norma Jeane Mortenson (Marilyn Monroe) 1926 – 1962.

marilyn-marilyn-monroe 2

She is… was… really beautiful… 


guest post first featured on jagabeauty blog

Good Old Fashioned Writing


Sometime ago, I decided to start a journey, a journey to finding myself, finding love, my purpose on earth, discovering what I am supposed to be doing with my life and how to get there.

I was depressed and felt so lost so I went to the bookshop to see if I could get a book that could help me at that point. So I bought:

⇒ The Audacity of Hope by Barrack Obama

⇒ Life: The American Journey of Barack Obama

⇒ And a Journal! And I wrote! When I was happy, confused, I wrote, good old fashioned writing with a pen!

This was 29th June 2009.

It’s been a while I really wrote, before I discovered blogging and the pressure of writing and crafting words to suit an audience. I used to really enjoy buying journals and writing, good old fashion writing with a pen. Over the years I seem to have lost that thing…the writing thing, just for writing sake.

So I decided that I would type out what I had written in my journals over the years and maybe I would find that thing… just write- Just because.