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Prayer Is Not a Policy

Earlier this week, the Ministry of Youth and Gender Affairs launched what it called a “groundbreaking initiative”. The National Week of Prayer Against Gender-Based Violence under the theme  “United in Prayer, Solidarity Against GBV.”   I know right? And look, we’ll get to women in positions of power upholding misogynistic and patriarchal values another day. Or maybe later today.  One crisis at a time, neh?  So here’s the thing. Botswana is facing a relentless and escalating epidemic of GBV. From child rape to domestic homicide, survivors are left with shattered lives, limited access to justice, and an insufficient social support system. With churches, religious groups, and communities being called to unite in spiritual solidarity against a national crisis, this initiative was painted as a hopeful, healing intervention. But let’s be brutally honest: this is  not   what change looks like. A man was able to walk into a university and take a woman’s life as she...

Life’s Frustrations

Sometimes—if not most times—life can feel overwhelming. And in those moments, you don’t always know who to turn to. A few weeks ago, I was really going through it and told my girls that I wished I had an older friend—specifically, an older woman. I needed the comfort and guidance of someone who could be a safe space. I emphasize  safe space  because it’s not like I lack older women in my life—I actually know quite a few. But I’m also familiar with how many of them think, how they act, or how they’d deliver their advice.  Honestly, that delivery just doesn’t sit well with me. Unfortunately, many in the older generation are champions of endurance and perseverance—even in situations where, deep down, you know it’s time to let go, move on, or accept that something isn’t right for you. More recently, I’ve found myself feeling incredibly hopeless. You know when you’re looking for the light at the end of the tunnel and it’s just… still pitch black? Yeah. It’s been a tearful week...

Everyone wants a village…

But not everyone wants to be a villager. The first time I heard those words, I had to snap my fingers like I’d just heard some soul-crushing poetry. It’s true, though. Everyone wants community, but very rarely do people show up—at least in this day and age. Certain things are starting to feel like a lost art when they’re not transactional. People long for support, for others to be there during their hardest moments, but how often do they extend that same presence to others? We talk about community as something we want to receive, but not enough about what it means to build one—to put in the work, to give, to show up when it’s inconvenient, when no one is watching, when there’s nothing to gain. I was having a conversation today and had to pause for a minute to keep my thoughts to myself because—why is everything so transactional these days? Friendships, romantic relationships, even familial relationships… people love to apply this you scratch my back and I’ll scratch yours mentality to ...

Another Trauma Dump

I’m not a good person. At least I don’t think I am, and that’s okay. I’m not disparaging myself or anything. I’m also notoriously bad at picking friends—we know this. I promise there’s a point to this. I just celebrated my 25th birthday a couple of weeks ago, and I’ve been replaying the night in my head ever since. I never used to celebrate my birthday—not because I didn’t want to, just that as a child it’s up to your parents or caregivers to make that day special for you. When I started living on my own, I started celebrating with close friends. Mind you, I love a theme. For my 21st, I made everyone dress like me. For my 22nd, I made everyone dress like Taylor Swift. You get the gist. For my 25th birthday, I made everyone give a speech about me. You must be wondering just how far my vanity goes, and I’ll keep it real with you—it doesn’t go very far. But I did have the epiphany that I have one day in the whole entire year to make everything about me. My insecurities take a back seat ju...

I wanted you to know that you hurt me.

I was desperate, really. Many years ago I learned to suppress my feelings, my anger, my hurt. I kept pushing and pushing and pushing—down, down, down. I can’t say that the floodgates broke with you. It was crack every now and then, and little by little, water came seeping through. No amount of duct tape could put together what you broke inside of me. Before you, I thought I knew devastation, I thought I knew betrayal—but boy, did I find out. Since that fateful day, it feels like I’ve been watching life pass me by. Like I’ve taken a back seat in my subconscious. Because of you, I knew what it was to die. To feel my heart break over and over and over again during sleepless nights. To think that it would’ve been easier to mourn you than to ever feel what I feel and what I would continue to feel. You killed me with no remorse. No care for my tears. No care for the pain you’ve inflicted upon me. I’ll never forget the callousness in your voice when you reminded me that you could actually be ...

To my daughter

[7/5/2025, 3:11:42 PM] Scarlet Witch ❤️ A Wanda W No Vision: What has been the best thing about being a mom for you? [7/5/2025, 3:21:09 PM] Ntswaki: The funny thing is, this answer has changed every month, but after a year I think it’s the fact that it’s been everything I thought it would be and more. I never had any delusions about how difficult this would be—especially the kind of parent I want to be—and I think that’s because I like to be prepared for hardship, if that makes sense. So I never made any room for the good, and oh my goodness! So much of the good are things so small that you never really think about until your baby is asleep and you miss them. To my daughter, This is going to be corny and maybe emotional—I’m not sure yet. I wonder if the version of me writing this will align with the version of me that exists as you read this. I’m suddenly at a loss for words. It’s currently 10:29 p.m., and we’re in bed. You had 2 ounces of chamomile tea, and it knocked you right out. Y...

People Who Don’t Keep Their Word

  There was a time in history when keeping your word meant something. Now we’re surrounded by disappointments and unreliable people. Unfortunately, I am a very literal person. I didn’t even realize how literally I take things until it became a whole diagnosis. That being said, I never quite understood the deep frustration and, for lack of a better word, the  displeasure  I feel when someone says they’ll do something… and then they just don’t. My cousin once told me to expect disappointment because that’s all people are going to offer. But I didn’t think it would be  this  bad. And you know what sucks about people who are often unreliable? They ask those annoying questions like,  Am I unreliable? Am I a disappointment? They’ll go on, talking so negatively about themselves, fishing for you to step in and tell them what they want to hear. Basically begging you to lie to their face. I think, to some extent, we all know what we’re capable of. Whether you think y...