I was watching Private Sessions on The History Channel featuring Seal. During the interview, Seal was asked about whether he was surprised by the success of his first album. He, very modestly and without any arrogance, responded that he wasn’t. He proceeded to explain that he had long visualised that moment from the time he decided he was going to be a musician. At age 11, his teacher had asked him to sing a Johhny Nash classic, I Can See Clearly, at a school assembly. He says he sang with eyes closed, trembling inside but in the end there was applause. From that day on, he began to visualise himself as a successful musician. Not visualising it in the sense of forcing it to happen as some books seem to suggest, but simply believing that he could be it and visualising it as if it already was. He used the word ‘birth right’ several times to describe why he should be successful.

The next day, I watched the very opposite mindset in The Firing Line, a documentary on freelance news cameramen who risk their lives bringing us stories that often make a difference by alerting us to atrocities taking place the world over. Firstly, of course, one celebrates the courage of these men and women who follow the same strong dream that Seal describes in getting the story. Juxtaposed with this, however, are the stark stories they expose from the bombing of a UN school in Gaza, the conflict in the DRC, Orphans in Burma, conflict in South Ossetia to children branded as witches in Nigeria. The documentary features cameramen such as Rory Peck Award winners Kazbek Basayev, and Joost Van der Valk. There is a common thread of despair in the subjects being filmed that remind one of Maupassant’s characters. There is a woeful hopelessness in the documentaries. In one of the inserts, we witness an Afghan father selling off his son to a wealthy woman to save his other children from starvation. It is the second son he is selling. In Van Der Valk’s insert, it is the harrowing story of children branded as witches in the Niger Delta. Though the filming of these scenes raises public awareness, which leads to action being taken as a result of public pressure, one cannot help but wonder how many more societies are locked in the vicious cycle of conflict, poverty and ignorance far from the intervening eyes of determined cameramen. At a personal level, how many individuals are trapped in personal circumstances they would rather not be in? What is their birth right?

What is your birth right? Have you sat down and decided what you rightly deserve from life or are you, at best, a victim of circumstance? I was a guest speaker on Thursday last week at the Students in Free Enterprise (SIFE) national leadership training workshop in Johannesburg. I spoke to about 200 students from South African universities and their faculty advisors and told them about people like William Kamkwamba, who at 14 years old defied his dire circumstances to determine his destiny by building a windmill at his parents’ home in his village in Malawi. He simply acted upon his sense of choice and changed his life completely. Google him! Is everyone destined for greatness? Not in the materialistic sense of the word, I think not. However, I am of the belief that everyone can act upon their circumstances and move, even if it is for an inch, to step away from hopelessness. That one step, invariably leads to another which may or may not end up in success. Greatness is not in the outcome though. Rather, it is in the ability to and the act of making that effort to step out of the shadows. When you do that, you will find you are ‘lighting a candle, instead of cursing the darkness.’ It is all in the mind. It always has.

No government has the right to tell its citizens when or whom to love. The only queer people are those who don’t love anybody.
~ Rita Mae Brown, speech, 28 August 1982

Condemn the victimisation of Ugandan gays and lesbians.

Writing on her blog Ramona Vijeyarasa quotes the Civil Society Coalition on Human Rights and Constitutional Law who said that this Bill is an attempt to “wish away core human rights principles of dignity, equality and non-discrimination, and all Ugandans will pay a heavy price if this bill is enacted.”

Speak out and sign the online petition here.

In Zimbabwe we have too few straight talkers and far too many appeasers. I went to a rhino benefit on Friday night. It was a really well supported fabulous event. But at no time did any of the presenters  or organisers directly address the reasons for rhino poaching in Zimbabwe, and who is behind it. Poachers are armed and they find international markets for the rhino horn. The rhino don’t just drop down dead – they are killed. Like the ones slaughtered at Imire Ranch in November 2007.

It’s time we stopped beating around the bush and come out, name names and shame the people enriching themselves at the expense of our country.

One of Zimbabwe’s straight talkers is Tsitsi Dangarembga. We featured her recently on Kubatana.net and I read an interesting article on The Zimbo Jam in which Tsitsi spoke out about the unacceptable levels of violence against women in this country. Check out what she had to say here.

Poetic Journey is the story of Zimbabwe told through poetry and mbira music. A young man refuses to celebrate the GNU because he can’t afford electricity, water and a host of other necessities. He realises that whilst he lives in poverty; the leadership is living in the lap of luxury.

The play was scheduled to premiere on the 25th of November and run from 26-27 November @ Amakhosi Theatre Upstairs.

The premier went very well on the 25th, with the audience interacting with the writer/director  and the cast after the show.

Trouble began after the performance on the 26th. After the show we walked into town; two members of the cast and I. We went our separate ways when we got into town. I decided to go into one of the smaller supermarkets along Leopold Takawira Avenue. As I was standing by the fridges, a guy in his late thirties approached me and asked a seemingly innocent question about the price of yoghurt in US dollars.

After buying what I wanted I walked to 6th Avenue to look for transport. The guy I had met in the supermakert was there and I immediately bacame suspicious and got into the nearest combi. He got in as well and sat next to me.

Speaking in shona,  he said, “you getting too clever”, and he left.

The next morning I received a lot phone calls from people who were saying they had been “advised” not to attend my show.

On the 27th I met the cast for our final show at Amakhosi. Two guys showed up around 6.30 pm. They pulled me asside and said my show wasn’t in the spirit of the GNU and I needed to stop the nonsense or else. They refused to identify themselves, but I recognised one as a police officer based at Queenspark.

I wanted the show to go on since it had not been officially BANNED but the cast members except one, were too scared to perform.

We had to turn people away and close the show.

All stories are true
Even those that didn’t happen
Once upon a time.

cairo airport.
she looks like mary stuart masterson
all blonde and manic eyed.
orders red wine. asks if the prices are US$
fingers flicking together.
the waiter engages my Lover and i in small talk.
“i don’t believe you, Zimbabwe!
there are only black people there.
if there are more women like you in your country i will come.”
the margaritas are bad. the conversation is interesting
only because time needs to be killed.
i’ve found a barman in Cairo who has
worked in the Ministry of Sound,
in London.
there’s a 5 hour wait until flight MS 839 is called.
in between
there are glasses of white wine
four lamb chops, a cappuccino and a chocolate pastry
because i like his smile.