* SPEAK
What if we spoke up and emptied our hearts of those deep dark thoughts? The so-called “too- dark” ones, that creep up almost out of nowhere all the time? . . . seemingly just to eat away at our peace of mind!
What if we speak up and dealt with issues that our cultures have designated as ‘PG’? The issues that are only confided in our parents and other adults . . . peeping through from private places that are hidden from public eyes to see. Hidden away in homes with lawns so full of grass, maintained with such objectivity.
Their true reality kicked to the curb, with hormones of the present- past controlling the thought processes of the future generations. In an era where love is so stingily given, so much such that you wonder what the ailing old neighbor is talking about when he says your parents are kind.
What if couples were a little more honest with each other? Maybe Africa wouldn’t be tackling issues that are preventable by the mere use of a rubber, problems that can be solved through open mindedness . . . instead each day half of the countries budget goes to buying ARV (Antiretroviral) medication and designating more public land for burial sites to the fallen.
Even as the wife buries the husband she will still throw an accusing eye towards the possibly infected “side dishes” who apparently bore him kids too. . . but she will claim its witch craft and that will be that. Under hushed tones all surrounding knew it was because she chose not to speak! She chose to honor her matrimonial vows and forgot that she too will be next to him six feet under. The devoted wife forgetting that her last born child is sickly . . . knowing witchcraft had nothing to do with the virus or her late husbands secrets.
What if she told him in advance that she, yes a female, was a sex addict? That he didn’t have to pretend that he too wasn’t one. That they had the same disease and maybe just maybe in life one can find a cure; fighting fire with fire, she feeding his addiction and him feeding hers. No one speaks though, they just keep treating each like cravings, appetizer first, main course at home and then seek desserts elsewhere. No one wants to be the weirdo! We are Africans, “Sex-holism” is un-African.
What if we all just speak up and share the burden? What if “ujamaa” really meant carrying each others cross without stigmatization? What if we stopped hiding behind religion and go for that test? Faith without action is simply dead momentum. What if these pastors stopped preaching faith and preached action?
Preached Honesty . . . ?
Preached Protection . . . ?
Preached Birth -control . . .?
What if we stopped circumcising body parts but instead circumcised the defeated African mentality, where a cold beer solves all problems and where the females pay for the man’s sins! The boy- child can no longer grow into a man, feminists arguing for equality, while a single mother can never raise a man, she will only raise a girl in trousers . . . forever being introduced to “new uncles” each weekend.
Men, they plant generously! Maize ,beans and cocoa…they help in weeding, then when its harvest time, they have moved on already to another rainy part of the village…planting! Then when she puts on a mini skirt to hunt and gather for her newborn and self, she is undoubtedly labelled as immoral.
She cannot speak up because you steal her pride, you steal her humanity, she, the facilitator of life, being forced to stay home to watch the fruit of her womb wither away, but you still maintain that “its not our culture”.
What then is our culture? Here is the formula as it stands; silence, death…six feet under, silence, death…denial. Let us speak up! How can we live in such a beautiful country, so large, so glorious and yet still have a population so small in heart, just because we cannot speak up!
Written by Black-Kwacha
