Quote of the day: 2011-10-31(Confessions)

Words words words! My friend of course, but not even i really understand how this friend of mine can be so powerful at times. A common word from my mouth can have so much impact when released straight from the mouth of another. It does not take the hands of a scientist to switch you into stupid mode! At most its always the choice of words and expression that reveal just how stupid and immature a person is. The confessions of the mouth really are just an existence of their own. We all go through this stage, nothing new right but i for one have had to really consider what i say because i have such a strong power with words and how i manipulate them that i could just easy violate and destroy someone through words. This has been a process of many years now and it is one that is very important to me because:

“The confession of the mouth builds worlds, a habitation of character and hope. If i am to speak without concern you would find that in my confession lies the greatest enemy of good change and that is immaturity. I cannot speak like common man because my tongue and hands hold key to one of the  greatest weapons in existence. I would rather embrace silence for now the confession of my mouth builds worlds in which other people enter and are influenced.” #Russell Mazonde

Finding Corey: Chapter 5(…………Shutdown)

Talking to my friends had always been an everyday thing, text messages flying about and phone calls crowding the airwaves but I got to a state where even talking to my friends was just too heavy. I didn’t want to talk, I wanted to be left alone because what possibly could one say that would make the situation better? Empty words had always been one thing I hated because they brought no edification. I would speak to Adrian occasionally, with his constant question “How are you holding up Shade?” Adrian called me Shade, which at times made me realize what I was to people. He knew I could not answer that; I couldn’t put into words emotions that did not want to talk. I visited Belana’s Face Book page frequently thinking I would see a post from her but such a delusion that was. I constantly shifted through videos of her; self contemplated torture it now seems. I had stopped going to church completely, what was the point really? I have never been one to be shy about what I do not like and in this moment God was not high on my list. All that was within me was angry with him, I could not lie to him and act like everything was alright. I could not come into church, jump up and down like a hydraulic jack and lift my hands in a heightened spectacle of lip service. I did not want his comfort, I did not want anything from him, I was just too broken and he had become the focal point of everything. As day by day went past I became much like the character I had totally evicted from my being, not because of anything else except me not refusing to be otherwise. My friends tried to reach out to me, to drag me back into the boat but I preferred to sink, sink deep into the deeps never to come out again. No one knew what was really going on with me; no one had the slightest idea because I became a closed book that didn’t want to be read. I knew my friends meant well, and I never doubted their love for me but people can only go so far for you and I was not willing to meet them halfway.

As I went through Belana’s pictures one night I saw her face with a look I only knew her to do so well. Her eye brows would come together in a frown and she would point at you with a serious face that had laughter written all over it. Eyes trying to dig through the truth of things! I sat there and something really struck me and sent chills down my spine. I remembered the night that she fell sick; I was at home sleeping like any normal human being. However just after midnight I was abruptly woken up because my body was seriously heating up. I was not sick and I knew it but nothing could explain the heat. It was not a hot night and I was puzzled at what could be wrong, what could it possibly mean! I never thought it could have been one of my friends in trouble. I share uncommon bonds with my friends and at times not often I can tell when they are in trouble because I can see tear stains on their cheeks even after they have dried or I can feel and get direct exposure to their emotions. I sat there with my hands covering my mouth, I couldn’t believe it. How could I have known, really how could I have known who to call? I tried to find reason, reason to doubt, reason to not believe but that moment crushed me to my deepest bone. I felt it, I felt it as it happened but I didn’t know what to do! I pushed my chair away from my computer and turned away to look at the wall. “I failed, I failed you Belana. That was you, that was you and I didn’t come to help you. How could I have known, how could I have known!” I knew that at that moment the final blow had been struck, I had gotten to the stage where I now had plausible reason to blame myself for everything, blame myself for losing my friend! I lived and still live through a very strict set of boundaries and definitions built at preserving a character that is not destructive to anything around me but at that time I let go of everything, in a sense it didn’t matter at all. I began to shut down inside, defense after defense, character block after character block, emotional block after emotional block until all that was left in me was a beating heart and a brain competent enough to cope with simple thought.

Word reached me of the memorial service for Belana three weeks after the burial. It was to be held on a fast approaching Saturday morning at her house. I thought of not going, seriously I did because I am supposed to seem better there than look worse. After much deliberation the day arrived and I found myself with Gabby and a few acquaintances at the memorial service. Relatives gathered as well as the family which was coming from laying fresh flowers at Belana’s grave. People began sharing, trying to encourage Belana’s family who looked all but alive in my view! We got to a stage where any of Belana’s friends were called and this time I could not dodge as I was chosen. I stood up and walked to the front where I could address everyone in full view. I almost stammered but I knew I couldn’t do it here!

“Good morning all. I am Corey Adams. Belana was my closest friend and thus I stand before you today.” As I spoke I saw her mother nod her head, she seemed to have wanted to hear what I had to say but failed to get the opportunity. “In January of 2004 a band of young people myself included started a Christian fellowship group at the school Belana learnt. We started off and went through the years but in 2008 Belana became our leader and there has never been a leader like her. Her compassion for people has changed the hearts of people. Everyone knows her for what she does and that’s loving people. She was loved by everyone, caretaker and student alike and it is shattering to think that she is not with us now. She was my closest friend. Mom I think you know that Belana was the person I spoke to about everything in my life. She was my rock, my friend, my help and my friend and no one had my trust like she did.” Belana’s mother nodded, she knew all of this to be true! “I remember the day I got the call that she passed away, I did not believe it, even when I saw her body I still did not believe it. I only believed it when I stood outside that gate and understood she would never walk out of this gate again. That is when I finally realized she was gone and after fourteen years I finally cried again. Mom, I am no parent and I can never fully understand the depths of your pain. But please know that I am also in pain, I am in unbelievable pain. I understand the pain because this has touched where it hurts the most. Ndinoziva mhamha kuti zvirikurwadza, ndozviziva mhamha (I know this hurts mom, I know mom)! Don’t think you are alone, both of you should not think that you are alone because we are here with you. We are here because the burden is great and you cannot lift it alone. In memory of her I brought you DVD’s I took of Belana at a recent event where she performed. This is the only copy in existence and it is fitting that you should have it so that in all times you can remember her for the love she had.” I had brought DVD’s for an event hosted by this Christian fellowship group or Scripture Union as it is called. I had recorded the proceedings and I had not the composure to watch it through so I felt it was time to pass it on. Bobo received the discs and took them into the house as I went to sit down. That had taken too much of me, too much to even start to mention. The memorial proceeded and time went past with people sharing and singing in her memory. Lunch time came and everyone was served with a bite to eat. Gabby exchanged lighter moments as we joked and Bobo joined us. More relatives arrived and I felt the need to leave so that relatives could have their time. We excused ourselves and made our separate ways home. As I walked home I thought lightly with a bit of annoyance, “Juniper Trinity Rose Miles, considering all that Belana did for you in helping you turn your life, I thought you would have at least attended her funeral.” Juniper was really a wreck once upon a time, addicted to partying drinking and wild sex rampages Belana had stuck out on a limb to pull her from the dark life she had walked through. Belana lacking strength called on my help and I put all on the line for Juniper so that she could know of a better life. Through thick and thin I stayed with her but in the passing of her hero she never found time to shed a tear. I didn’t know why the thought had occurred in my head, I had no reason to judge and even if I had a reason I still had no right! I shifted my mind to think of Belana’s mother and felt sorrow and pity. No parent deserves to bury their child, let alone two of them! I nodded my head in acknowledgement of the burden she was facing; it was not something I would survive. I seriously never did figure out how mothers cope after such situations, what gaping hole is left in the heart after such an event? I shifted around in my thoughts with every step until I got home. Weeks passed while I refused to have much contact with the outside world except a few of my closest friends. I was in a state where I did not want my friends to see me. I always wanted to be strong for them, to be someone they always counted on but never did I want them to be there for me because I was afraid of being a burden. However not having them around made me face things that were unbearable. My past has the most annoying habit of wanting to come back time and time again. Nights were the worst as I always had to endure the snide comments and remarks of a certain character that simply wanted to consume me again. No matter how angry I was, no matter how lost and destroyed I was one thing that did not change in me was the conviction that I was never going to choose to go back to my past. In my past I was no stranger to alcohol abuse, anger management issues, strange bipolar behaviors and not being able to be nice to people. I had tasted freedom and no matter how many of my emotional and mental systems were off at the moment, the one that made me realize what the future had brought for me refused to switch off. Perhaps it was the hand of God but in that moment I did not want to entertain that at all. I had known him as all powerful, as my Rock and if he couldn’t have stopped my friend from dying like a dog then to me he had effectively defeated my entire confidence in him.

The beat of life came back into me quite hurriedly; life does not wait for the inconvenience of death for long. I had to get back to work and to get back to living my life. But how could I really? How does one live past such misery? I couldn’t call her now when I needed advise. I also didn’t want to burden my friends even though I knew they cared! All I could do was wear a stern face, bulldoze through every day as it came, and try not to have moments of emotional weakness and hope that the burden would get lighter with time. Word of her death had now reached every ear that knew her and having to endure people’s requests for an explanation of how she died almost drove me mad really. Every question either infuriated me or almost made me cry. I had never had my heart so crushed that I was always so close to tears. I hated being weak all the time now; not being able to help anyone anymore and it was an everyday state of mind I had to live with. A few months went by and I wrote to Adrian on Facebook. It was a simple message just telling him I was going to visit Belana’s grave. He responded asking for the date and time so that he could tag along as well. I cleared with Belana’s mother first who didn’t mind if we want to go anytime we wanted. I chose one Wednesday that was unbearably hot. We made our way to the cemetery using public transport. It didn’t matter to me at all, as we rolled down the road I remembered the day we buried her so well it drove me to silence. Adrian figured this was a very troublesome moment and just remained quiet. We were dropped off a bit away from the cemetery and we walked the rest of the way. I fought hard with each step to think of what to say, was that all she had amounted to now, just words and a bunch of flowers on her grave? We finally arrived at the cemetery and made our way through the various paths to a common area we all remembered. A problem came about where we had forgotten to copy the grave number. This made it very difficult as the care takers had their own ideas of where the grave was. After much deliberation Adrian and I we almost stuck! I had never been so short sighted and it really bothered me that I had forgotten such a simple detail. Calls to Bobo wielded no fruits. As I stood with well over one hundred graves in front of me I got into a moment where my memory kicked in. I saw a picture buried in my memory, it was Belana’s grave but I could not see the grave number. However I saw a green house quite far from the cemetery. I noticed that he house was at about a forty five degree angle to the grave from just by plain sight. I shifted my attention to the direction and saw the house but I was standing directly in its line of sight, I needed to be at an angle. I moved to the left and deeper into the graves until I got to a position which looked similar to the one in the picture from my memory. I looked at the house and nodded my head and shifted to look at the graves in front of me and three rows behind the one immediately in front of me there was her grave just as we had left it, lawn growing on top with covering the grave slopes. I turned and waved at Adrian who came to me quite speedily. I pointed to the grave and we both approached it quite slowly and calmly. To me it looked like we were burying her again! There were Good-Bye cards and roses on the grave as well and I remembered the rose I threw into the grave before it was filled. Adrian offered to give me some time alone with her but I refused, I would most likely have cried had I been alone there. We stood there for a moment looking at the grave, maybe it was still disbelief or finally acceptance but we all shared the same sentiment. “Hi Belana, it’s been a while ha? Sorry we didn’t come to visit you earlier; it’s hard to think you are now here. I for one never imagined it would come to this. Everyone is fine and everyone misses you. I miss you and I know you are in a better place now. We just came here to say hi, see how you are doing. Don’t be a stranger now and no strange visits in my dreams ok, that’s just creepy!” Adrian laughed at my last statement as he added “rest easy dear girl, rest easy!” Belana had appeared in some of my dreams and the creepiest was where I was sitting on a bench and she was sitting next to me gripping my right hand with her chin resting on my shoulder as she spoke, “I came to you because I know you will understand; you wouldn’t push me away. Someone did what they did but now I shall have my revenge. I just wanted you to know.” I remember waking up with my heart racing like it was on fire as it was just too real for me to handle. As I thought of the dream, we were already walking away from the cemetery back to find transport to make our way home. Luckily we found transport and as I sat in the taxi I remember quite vividly breathing out because had I not been with Adrian I seriously would have never left that place without shedding tears. I felt all the sorrow, anger, hurt and misery so clearly at that moment and I could not wish it away. We parted ways with Adrian in the city center as I had to get a taxi to take me home while he waited for his father to pick him up. I had always faced hard situations in my life but I had never faced anything like I had faced that day. Even strong people cry!

A request to you all

I know a lot of you are reading Finding Corey as i am writing it. Some might be anxious for the next chapter, i wouldn’t blame you! The thing is this is a very very very emotional story i am writing and i often have to get into a very calm state to capture everything as it happened. This at times happens fast but at times it’s really slow. A very good example of this were the 2 chapters, Deja-Vous and Deep roads. which really explain in great detail the emotional turmoil that went through all the characters involved in this story. I want this to be a perfect tribute to my friend in whose memory i am writing this story.

All said i will finish it and publish it. And you are walking with me all the way, one step at a time. Thank you!

Quote of the day: 2011-10-28(Honor)

Yes the word we hear in a lot of medieval movies like Lord of the Rings and Troy. There is something about the ideal of Honor. I say ideal because it is something not all of us do but hope to do because it does something to our state of mind with respect to how we interact and deal with people. People no matter what size and weakness contribute something to another persons life. Now us being selfish beings at times we are simply stuck on the give me button and never see what other people really do in our lives, how they go out of their way and sacrifice to see a better page in our page called life. I have personally seen this in my friends and my family where they have really twisted an arm and a leg to make me become a better person. I am in general not a selfish person, i love people and i love appreciating people. It was not like so 5 to 10 years down the line where i hated all manner of people in general. But because of such people who endured my brutality against them i became like them; loving, kind and compassionate. Though a lot of people see me as a pillar of strength, one thing they do not realize is that in essence they are my greatest heroes. After gaining much wisdom i said this a few years back

“Celebrate all people, all your heroes! Those who stand for you and those who stand with you. Let them remember you while they still live for in the silence of the grave no memory holds substance except the regret of the living” #Russell Mazonde

Finding Corey: Chapter 4(Déjà- Vous)

That night was a very cold one for me. Not much of a titan at the game called sleep; I failed to catch a whisker of it and drifted from side to side as the night passed by. I ended up just sitting in bed reliving the day that had just passed me. There existed a thought inside me that I had failed my friend in her time of need and it was not wavering in its footprint on my mind. This had been a day I never wanted to face in my lifetime. Life after death so to speak was a concept I never thought one day I would have to live through. I felt rotten inside, as if I was eternally useless! For a greater length of my life after great change I had always done one thing and that was believe in a greater being, the God of heaven and earth. He was a focal point from which much balance emotionally and mentally had been established but that night nothing spared me in my misery to the point of cracking. Tears rolled down my cheeks as I sat in the dark, trying to make sense of things but deep down inside I felt wronged. I opened my lips enough to whisper out a sentence, “God how could you let her die?” A deep anger was starting to corrupt every fiber of my moral being. It felt all too familiar; I had been in this place before. I felt my blood coursing with rage as the tears continued to trickle down my cheeks. Like a broken record I was stuck on the last image of her I saw. I could feel a war inside me, there was so much good in me now but I could feel it franticly fighting to keep an evil nature that had dominated me for most of my life. My blood was racing with this rage, I felt as if I was being crushed and reformed from the sand. I didn’t fight it; I didn’t fight it at all. The amount of loss I felt at that time made me feel as if all the good things I had accumulated into my character were worthless. After some time every breath I took became heavier, I felt something near me and I could very much tell what it was. Its presence was cold, void of any warmth and affection! A whisper broke through my misery and imposed its cold touch straight onto my mind, “You shall know fear and endless death!” I didn’t panic, I had been there before. At most I was not even moved because I knew exactly who it was! A memory pierced from the darkness and came straight into the brightness of my mind. Belana had written me a letter, not too long ago when I was leaving the country for a few months. I got out of my bed and switched on the light. I had buried it deep into the pocket of a jacket I didn’t wear anymore. I reached into the pocket and felt the letter, and remembered the day she gave it to me. Rushing to class she just grabbed my hand, stashed the latter into my hand and dashed off waving her hand. I took the letter out, and opened it; black ink in her curly handwriting spanning from top to bottom on the green paper. A two paged letter had struck me as excessive at the time she gave me the letter but now I had hoped she had written more. I read the first line and the letter read:

Dear Corey

Today is the 12th of June 2009, and only a couple of days before you leave. It feels so unreal but alas it is the reality of life. It feels like only yesterday when I started talking to you as a girl who was confused and on the verge of losing it. Today, I’ve emerged a woman I only dreamt I would be and its all thanks to you, God and Adrian.

I know I am one to write letters containing a thousand words but this is one of the hardest letters I’ve had to write. Why you may ask but it’s because you’ve become a big part of my life. I wonder who is going to interpret my dreams for me; or who am I going to ask for advice, or who is going to call me and ask for stories. Strange at first I was afraid of you but now you have become a friend.

Thank you Corey Adams because you have had a positive impact on my life and for that I truly am grateful. But then sometimes to grow you need to leave the limiting environment you have grown into saturation. I pray where you are going will be all you want it to be. I know that you will make an impact so there’s no question or doubt ‘bout this. 

Corey, Corey, Corey, can’t believe that you’re now evaporating and you haven’t bought me weed to put in my hair or given me the recipe for that fridge tart you always tell me about. I’ma miss you so much and I’m not even going to lie about that. Life will be quite ordinary without you. If I think about all the stuff that you’ve helped me through I can’t help but laugh, smile and get lost in wonder. It’s all strange but completely true, thank you Corey for everything. I will write more when I can but now I’m drained. So much to write but so little words. Thank-you, thank-you! May God continue to bless you abundantly and that may you remain the strong person you are. Emerging from Disturbia couldn’t have been easy but you did it with God as your strength.

Take care of yourself and ‘till we meet again.

Stay blessed and loved forever.

Lots of love


She signed off at the bottom of the letter with her signature which I could recognize a mile away. I held the letter and thought of her as she would have been writing this letter, smile across her face with a not so complicated face shone with joy as she pilled word after word onto the letter. I folded the letter but a better half of me wanted to tear it but the more sensible part acknowledged that this was the last thing I had received from her and put it back into the jacket. I sat on my bed and pondered away, thinking of all the things I should have said before she passed away. It was too late now, dead man tell no tales and dead man heed not to the words of the living. I tried beyond measure that night to not develop fault lines in my heart and mind but I was too angry, too enraged to even attempt to retain some form of reasoning. I started talking, “How could you just let her perish like that? How could you! How could you simply let someone I loved perish like a common house hold pest?” I was seriously angry with God; I thought it all to be his fault. I struggled with myself, fighting between tears that wouldn’t stop and emotions that wanted some form of revenge, some form of retribution. It had always been a part of me that I fought hard, the need to deal a blow with a blow and the moment never felt riper. But what could I do? The pain was mine to feel and the misery mine to behold! Looking around me I saw my table and on it was my pad with a pen next to it. I fixed my eyes on it and felt a thought creep into me, “Its time I write her a letter!” So meaningless now but I felt I would have one more chance to talk to her, maybe she would hear me, maybe she would listen, maybe I would hear her voice one more time.

Dear Belana

You know I am nt gud with letters but tday I hve to try for you. Ok short hand is not working so yah! I remember talking to you just before my sister came and now you are gone. Express to me what you would have me feel for I have fallen apart.

Your voice echoes in my head, maybe that’s my scar for life. I can’t believe you are gone! I was thinking of going out with you, Adrian and Michelle. Now I can’t pick you up considering where you are. Emotions are not my strength; I am just about to cry as I write this. I have fought so hard to keep them in but even I have my limits.

You left so fast, like the turning of a page you were gone. Even in my vast understanding I fell like a fool. Many things went unsaid and now lateness seals the lock to unsaid words. I looked at your picture on my phone; I never thought you would leave me, not you Belana, not you! My dearest of friends, my special person, no one spoke to me the way you did. You were my shoulder my dear friend, a part of me. I am at times thinking this is a nasty prank and that I will be cross with you for your sense of humor but I guess the joke is on me. How can you leave me dear? Why leave me alone, with a gaping hole where you once stood. Tell me how to feel, I am lost! I am terrified of life without you!

I am such a fool, I lost you! My fear of a weakness has been my undoing for in the end the suffering rests on my lone shoulders. Tell me what to feel, I am so lonely in my heart. Not so soon dear, not so soon! You just can’t leave me, who will take your place? Who will listen to me like you did? Who will not fear me like you did? Who will not judge me like you did? Don’t you dare tell me I have Michelle, Liandra, Josephine and Adrian because I need all of you! You were the last part of me; the never aging rock of my affection and now you are just gone, no! I have been broken and destroyed, left aside like a rotting corpse. It took me 18 years to have a friend like you and now I must suffer? Words evade me like racing cars; leave me in a state of denial. Oh gosh, not you Belana, not you! I can’t accept that you are dead, I can’t accept it! Even if I die of old age, to me you are alive and with me because if I lose you at all I am undone.

You of all people know what I am and what I was. You will never condone me to lose all sense of myself for in the end I become destructive. I can’t Belana, I am sorry no I cannot do this. I will create a home for you in my mind. For as long as a strand of you is in me I have not lost your love and I am not defeated. Leave me not, dwell in my thoughts, and make my mind your home for I cannot put you in the soil. I still need you in my life.


I signed off at the end of the letter, trembling with all form of confusion and pain. I reached for my phone and tried to look at her picture but couldn’t get it to even unlock. Frustrated I gripped my phone hard until it began to crack and lose shape. I almost threw it into the wall before I simply just lacked strength. I loosened my grip and it fell to the floor as bit by bit I started losing all my resolve, all sense of who I was and drowned in my own tears. If insanity knocked at my door it would have found a new home that day. Everything raced in my mind and I watched not being able to stop it, bring a sense of order. I could hear voices of my head, Michelle, Adrian, Liandra and Josephine all racing around me crying with tears lining their cheeks. I sat down on the floor and held my head trying to calm down but I purely was entering a mental state I had never experienced. I crawled onto my bed and covered my head with a pillow trying frantically to race off to dream land. Dawn found me lying on my bed, insanity having dissipated. I got out of bed and walked to the table. I knelt down to pick up my cell phone and attempted to send a message. I entered in the number by head **** 367046 but failed to write a message. I had never been so blank in my life, so out of words and thoughts that I simply could not do simple things. I was so surrounded by fear that crippled my confidence in anything yet at the same time I was so angry I could not feel anything good inside me. Daybreak found me in cold silence sitting on my bed thinking but with no definite thought to grab a hold off. I had never experienced such confusion and fear in my life, I felt really abandoned and discarded. I spent most of the day without many words with anyone at home. I had never been the one you could talk to and offer counsel if you did not understand what I was going through. At the peak of the day I switched on my computer and started watching videos I had taken not so long ago. Belana was in all of them, leaving her mark on my memory like an unpaid bill. She was singing, dancing, shouting and I could see myself with her in the videos. At that moment I wished I could have gone back into time, lived a day with her over and over and over and over. Every image of her that passed through my mind, every video made me relive every moment with such unimaginable intensity. I stopped halfway through the last video, the pain and misery was now too much. Her voice was now alive in my head so much I could literally hear her as if she was standing right next to me. In the midst of all of this my cell phone vibrated, it was Michelle! “Hey, we are going to see Belana’s mom tomorrow. Wanna come?” Michelle had never been one who asks a question that does not merely tell you what she is thinking. She already knew my response, “Sure, let’s all meet at school and go together then.” I threw the cell phone away and dragged my chair to the window. By now nighttime was settling in and I wanted to look out of the window, into space and wander off where nobody returns from. Over the years the only reason I would drag my chair to my window was when I wanted to talk to God but I didn’t want to talk to him now, didn’t even want to hear about him. I thought of someone in all the time I spent at that window, Josephine! By now news of Belana’s death would have found her. She had left the country and relocated to South Africa not too far back. Dear to Belana, how was she handling all of this? I wish I could be with her, talk and go through this together. One of the few people I confided in, Josephine had time and time again proven to be reliable and trustworthy. But what was I to do, we were thousands of kilometers apart yet I knew grief was a common share between us. I could have sent her a text message but what could I say? Blinded by my own anger and grief I could not have been objective in bearing someone else’s tears. I realized I could not be there for any of my friends, like I had promised to all of them. I was just too weak to be of any help, just useless! Time progressed and it was getting close to midnight when something caught my attention. A voice came from behind me and it was a voice I had known for such a long time it needed no formal introduction. “Corey, Corey, Corey! You could not wander away from me forever, are you forgetting that I am you?” I turned my chair to meet his gaze as he sat on my bed, legs crossed with a devilish smile cutting across his face. It was him, the representation of what I was, and the polar opposite of what I was now. “I have not seen you since, hmmm the days of Disturbia. Fancy meeting you now, what brings you here?” I knew why he was here though I asked; I had driven myself into a state where my anger had consumed all that was warm inside me. I had gone back to the state of my life where I was a black home; a dark star that consumed all that was around it. His name like me was Corey, a part of myself so long ago that enjoyed hurting people and destroyed every sense of moral fiber that existed inside me. “Come now Corey; is that a way to greet me? I see death has visited your doorstep. What is that I see, that anger, hatred, need for revenge?” I turned my chair around so that I didn’t have to look at him. I knew why he was here, he wanted in again! If ever someone thought split personalities did not exist then they would have loved to meet me at the time I struggled with this guy. He drove me onto destructive paths; no one loved me because all I touched died. I had kept him away for such a long time now, because I had changed my life, learnt to love, respect and appreciate other people. All this was hanging in the balance and I guess he thought it was time to visit the old house again. Without much effort I cut his presence completely as he thrived in my imagination, a place I had now managed to grab a hold of completely. I knew it would not be the last of him but I certainly didn’t have the resolve for his maneuvering on that day. I spent much of the night gazing out my window, only catching some sleep in the early hours of the morning. I woke up to a familiar morning routine, shower, brush teeth, breakfast out the door! Of course others would argue the logic of brushing my teeth before I eat but I stopped trying to figure out why I do it that way. By nine o’clock I was waiting for Michelle and the gang at school. Of course they took their time, arriving one after the other like delegates to a party. I didn’t have time to fuss about it like I usually did what would it matter anyway! Soon all the people who were going were gathered and we made our way. Being a small crowd we boarded an omnibus taxi. The journey seemed short as the others whispered away at some form of conversation. We were dropped down the road from Belana’s house and we made our way slowly. Michelle walked close to me with Gabby not too far. Adrian was not with us but I take it wherever he was he had stuff going on in his mind as well. We arrived at the house, greeted by a cold chilling silence that clearly told that death had passed through recently. We walked in slowly and got to the front door where we were greeted by a relative. The relative led us in and we sat on the sofa’s as Belana’s mother had to be called. I looked around, the house had been so vibrant and full of life not so long ago when we were celebrating Belana’s eighteenth birthday but now so cold and quiet. I hoped to see her in the kitchen baking her heart away, or her rushing through the passage door straight for me with a huge open hug but there was nothing. Her mother walked in after some time and we all stood to greet her. I had never seen the woman so broken, torn and without hope. She had always been a soft spoken person but she had a hope of the future written all over her face, which now was completely gone. She sat down and extended to us to join her. One by one we spoke to her, trying I guess to bring a calmer sense to her agony. I didn’t want to speak but again so much was expected of me because of the kind of person I am. I came in last with just a formal introduction. Others had really insisted on God being a force of comfort in this time but I completely dodged that aspect. I reassured her that she was not alone in her pain, that we all felt it, I felt it and explained to her that us as her children as well needed her to be strong. Tears lined her cheeks and I literally just started tearing inside. Never again in my life do I ever want to see such a thing happening to a person whether friend or foe it was too much to bear. No one deserves to live through such pain.

Conversation faded with time and we asked her if anything needed doing around the house. She just asked us to clean the lounge of which we did. Michelle being a kind soul had me doing all the heavy lifting for her! As we finished cleaning up, Belana’s mother came to us and requested something of us, “Take care of Bobo, he is the only one I have left.” That was such a heavy request coming from a grieving mother and we all agreed to honor it for her sake. Time passed and we said our goodbyes. I remember looking at the house as we walked away thinking what it was all coming too now. I knew the brother Bobo who had always lived in Belana’s shadow. Belana was the favorite, the one were all the hope lied on. Bobo would have to live in the shadow as he proved to be more radical than Belana. Would he ever be good enough not to be compared to a page in the past, time would be a story teller there. I dropped off along the way and made my way home, slowly pondering with each and every step. A few words slipped out of my mouth, “God how could you?”

Quote of the day: 2011-10-26(Desperation)

We are all at times guilty of wanting something to happen with haste. I myself have been a desperate episode to say the least. I am no philosopher, i speak from my own life experiences as i try to make sense of it all. Desperation to me has always been a pitfall because of one thing


“Desperation clouds the seat of good judgement” #Russell Mazonde

Quote of the day: 2011-10-26(Fighters)

People are the most amazing creatures on this planet. There are no bounds to the spirit of a human being. I have always loved how this is shown in movies like Transformers where aliens try to come and take over the planet but these little creatures as small as they are fight back like soldier ants tearing giants just because they wont give up. Though we can drop the sensationalism of Hollywood, it is true in every aspect of a human beings life. Though we fight differently and the levels of courage differ, every human being gets to a point where they have nothing else to do but fight back and that’s where they are most dangerous because even cowards hit where it hurts the most.

I personally knew how to fight for what i wanted since i was a mere child. I do not always want to engage in a battle if there is a far more civilized way of getting to a goal but i am not afraid of fighting to get to the place where i want to go. Put into a corner i will fight to death for what i love and what i want to achieve. If you cannot fight for what you want, what you love and what you desire then i pose one question to you. What are you going to fight for? For the enemy seeks to take all from you and leave you barren. In us all are fighters, individuals who can wage war to get what they want. Smart, shrewd tacticians who can break through enemies and crush under their feet. Again, what will you fight for?

‘If you aren’t ready to fight for your desires and destiny, just know that the enemy fights wars everyday to derail your destiny. “# Russell Mazonde