Poke YOUR Nose into this: The Rotaract Club of Harare West get dirty as they lend a hand in Domboshava!

Not many people have the foggiest of ideas of what Rotaract is or what it’s about or if anyone in it is bone-able. Being a recently inducted Rotaractor and lover of all things interactive I have been asked to explain it numerous times but after this past weekend I can safely say, you need to be in it to get it. That is get knee deep into the selfless action oriented bit (the part that matters) get to have a jam and socialize (the part that also matters *wink*), network and be schooled in thoughts that never crossed your mental server (the reward that comes with the knee deep stuff) and much more I’m probably yet to experience! In simple words its helping other people take care of themselves, its feeding the hungry with a loaf of bread, its teaching them to farm the darn wheat (wheat not weed PEOPLE!), its keeping strangers warm during these cold winter nights; its turning a ‘shamble’ into a walled and floored Home.

That’s precisely what we ‘Wild Wild Westerners’ got up to on an almost early Saturday morning. I say almost because like most things in life we met a few of life’s *EHEM!*, obstacles; road blocks, ‘almost’ flat tyres, not-so-morning-people, possible overloading and transport woes to mention a few!

But with the resilience of 5year olds on a scavenger hunt we pulled through and made it out to the outskirts deep in Domboshava, so deep we made the rest of the trek on foot to a tattered place called home to Baba naMai Passmore; the couple we have been assisting for a little close to a while.

This couple has six children (yes you read right), two girls; Chiedza (1 ½ yrs), the adorable Maude (5yrs) and four boys; Passmore (roughly 16yrs), Goodmore (12yrs), Titus (9yrs) and the both mischievous and timid Joshua (7yrs). Of the bunch only Titus and Goodmore are attending school while Joshua is yet to step into a classroom due to funding. Maude is due for Pre School as well but unfortunately the chorus of funding is certainly sung in the highest note under these circumstances. Stationery, school uniforms, day to day nutritional requirements, a secure roof over their heads, a cement and not dirt floor as well as actual windows lengthen the list of what, not only the family needs BUT what these children deserve as a human right to ‘be’.

The Rotaract Club of Harare West have and continue to do what they can to fill in the blanks where resources can; a blanket here, a pair of previously love clothes here and there, etc

That’s where YOU come in… YOU’RE the missing link… no effort is too small… no donation is irrelevant in cash, kind, time or expertise. At the risk of sounding like a chain message here; take a moment (no, seriously just a minute!), and think of what you have to offer to this family or to the Harare West Rotaractors Club as a member….*moment of silence for your thoughts*

Now Grab this guy's contacts and get involved;

Rotaract Club of Harare West, President Elect :
Victor:victormabika@gmail.com

 I can’t promise won’t love it though.
 YOU have been warned! #TSKC

I Love My Family

 This will be a relatively short and emotion filled, soggy as a damp tea dunked biscuit post.  Guys …I love my family. I know you’re thinking duh! Of course you do but you don’t get it …

I have taken a look back in time and there is one thing that is largely consistently my family… we have lost a few good soldiers on our way of course but… we have managed to dust ourselves up as we go. Chanting optimistic war-cries!

 Drinking to our fill, glasses half full of empathy, sacrifice and the type of love God Himself created. Agape.  

Not all are blessed with that amount of love and companionship BUT we all have some kind of family… The most important aspect is NOT to take for granted the actions and emotions experienced by those that give a damn about you.

It is always tempting to go trampling over their opinions, advice and smothering.

These people will NOT always be around.

I would take a bullet for them … YES I would! (Only if the situation demanded it OBVIOUSLY! )

Spent a little time…show you love and appreciate them because being YOUR family is free. I myself am on the road to recovery, working on treating them better and saying I Love You more often. You can come along too there’s enough room for the both of us ;-) .

#TSKC

The Supernatural Love Complex

Not that SUPERNATURAL....

Adulthood means absolutely nothing until you become a parent. Until then we are childlike still self absorbed, narcissistic and selfish with our heads up our rear ends. True maturity begins when you bring something living into this world. Not your creation but Gods’. You count for very little until you can feel the very livelihood of another human as being dependent on your own, until you can be last or even skip a turn purely for the joy of your own. There lies the factual challenge.

Getting Parenthood right however is an entire book plus three sequels or so I have heard.

I wouldn’t know of course, I am yet to qualify for this heavenly responsibility. This is purely from observation and the accounts of well matured parents, my own included. 

My Claim to PARENTHOOD

I can relate in that when I think about my niece and nephews; I may have not been pregnant with either of them but to my credit have watched them grow, changed their nuclear bomb like nappies, read them their most favourite and yet painfully tedious bedtime stories, fed them mush and wiped it off me once they have regurgitated it onto my favourite t-shirts, the works.

Fire...

Listen to FIRE here..

Pen to recycled paper under the shadowy candlelight

I think of things I would rather do in the wax scented air, you and me body to body

I’d rather be on top in control of every stroke as we rock

For you I will surrender my independence

Lower myself to your peasant when you starve me of the good taste,

That loving you bring me

Your sex is on fire undoubtedly,

My heart nearly expires at the slightest caress of your fingers

You know where…

That paradise of explosion you know so well as you charter me there first class

Erotic eruptions, don’t change the linen, your essence rouses my loins

Back arched, I become a contortionist for you, reaching for the ceiling

Voices hoarse

The walls ringing with panted echoes of our names

Seeing the very galaxies from a view so high then a drop so sharp

I choke back tears I’ve lost all fears

The bed, cold floor and dirty bathroom is our sanctuary

Swapping much more than just bodily fluids

Let a part of you grow within me

A bigger entity intertwined

Oh so spiritually

Legs wrapped, heart, mind, and soul combined out of control just on a roll

The insatiable hunger hits me like a fever…

Fire…

One look at me is beyond ecstatic, somersaults and acrobatics in my mind running through my nerves…the surface of my skin trembling…hearts resounding the same song as you slip off my thong

Murmuring sweetness…

I am NOT in love…

I am willingly completely sexually domesticated

Are you?

This is the Fire that resides in my desire for you.

I Like Big Trees& I Cannot Lie?!

Sitting outside the here on my own, drifting between day dream and 14hour travel fatigue-sleep, I realise what I ‘really’ missed about Zimbabwe when I was/ am in Namibia.(family and friends please don’t be offended) I look up and feel the streams of little bits of sunlight filtering through the trees! Yes! TREES!! Greenery, lush shrubs and most importantly grass! I imagine how ridiculous it must sound to hear someone refer to missing ‘grass’ and ’green’ who’s not remotely referring to drugs but believe me when I say I mean it (the vegetation that is…well maybe both?!) there’s something about vegetation, it’s a symbol of hope, fertility, promise, opportunity, life. Don’t get me wrong though there is grass in Namibia, for the minority who can foot the expense of maintaining kickass landscaping and erhm the government parks of course. I would camp at the park but I’m not homeless, I would go to sit in the park and read a book every other day but , although I may not be homeless I still am a student who can’t afford to indulge such longings(unless alcohol related) at wrong times of the month. Back to the point, I love you Zimbabwe and I missed your ass, I meant grass, I missed your grass.