My friend insomnia

My friend insomnia is back; our friendship has spanned a timeline of ten years. She first became my friend at the age of eleven when we first moved to the suburbs and as I settled into my new surroundings she soon became my distant friend but then she came back when I was in my first year of high school; a horrendous amount of events happened to me that year, firstly I was in a high school where none of my former friends would be, I was the only black person in the entire school, my baby brother drowned and practically died in my arms and my mother passed away six months later.

My friend insomnia sat with me through all the rage and maniac nights, she wasn’t the most comforting of friends but at least she was there. She was there to see my creativity sprout out of my sadness, I wrote countless poems in the silence of night, I cried into my pillow until it was soaking wet and my friend insomnia was there with me. I would stand up and watch as the sun slowly rose from under the earth and when my step-mom would walk in to wake me up I would pretend I had just woken up. 

In the day my friend insomnia was nowhere to be found, I would buy energy drinks and energy bars to keep my body from getting lethargic, my cravings for knowledge in all forms kept me awake in classes but when I got home I would throw myself on the bed and stare at the ceiling, waiting for night to come, waiting for my friend to arrive.

I became a philosopher if I can say so, I wrote many essays ,theories, thesis  and poems Shakespeare would be proud of but still I felt empty, I was mad, I was sad, I was confused. I would sit up in my bed and ask my friend insomnia “Why did my mum leave me without saying goodbye, she died with no one around her, why didn’t she tell me she was sick. Why did God take my baby brother- he was an innocent soul?” Of course insomnia would stare at me like a stupid dog and not answer, she just lay there heavy and cold on my lap.

Every night was the same: I would watch tv until I couldn’t watch it anymore, I would then read my English school books and finish some readings that were supposed to take us weeks to finish, I would then read some books that weren’t part of the school syllabus and then I would write and write and write but still I felt empty. One particular morning the sunrise resembled that of the morning when the news of my baby brother’s death arrived, I could feel my veins draining and my soul dissolving into the ether but then suddenly out of the blue I remembered a Psalm I had learnt when I was nine years old, Psalms 27, I remembered the first four lines. “The Lord is the light and my salvation, whom shall I fear, the Lord is the stronghold of my life, of whom shall I be afraid?’ A sudden lightness came upon me, I could feel my friend insomnia slowly letting go. My eyes were opened, my heart was healed and every night from that night I slept earlier and earlier.

I had forgotten my old friend Jesus in my time of need; instead I had hung onto my dark friend insomnia who took more than she gave. I opened the Bible to bring forth light in my life for where there is light darkness cannot exist even in the night. I felt lighter and newer- God was my light and Jesus my stronghold. How could I have forgotten that?

When I went to university my friend insomnia had but disappeared and plus I met great people with great energies, being around them was like lying close to a slow running stream.

But my friend insomnia is back; it maybe because I am anxious about events in my life I have no control over, it may be that I am being tested. I don’t know but I must keep my faith and not let my old friend insomnia get a hold of my life again. It is 01:48 in the morning. I’m going to try to go to sleep but before I do I’ll read Psalms 27.

The "noor" of my eyes

As my favourite writer says about the wome in his life, here is my "noor" (or light for those of you who don't know) of my eyes. She brings me absolute joy. She was a week old when I heard about my mother's death but holding her tiny body made it all okay, it made me believe even more that there was and is a God- a merciful and loving God. Seven years later and she is still a constant reminder of true love- the unconditional kind. My baby sister is an absolute joy.

She is always jolly, never shuts up and speaks what's on her mind. She reminds me that Jesus is my healer for she fills the sore that was left by mother's death. I love her very much.

She once said to me "Do you know that every time you open the Bible the Devil dies" I'll never forget that she is Godsent.

My dad is like God

My dad is like God in that he is much of an enigma and is hard to understand. He has no divine powers and he has yet to create something as great as the universe.

I remember a few weeks ago my dad came in the house in a jolly mood and asked us what we wanted, I wasn’t in the mood for anything so I asked for nothing, my baby sister still new to pizza asked for a whole pizza for herself; my dad nodded and walked out.

A couple of days passed and still my dad had not returned with my baby sister’s pizza. I laughed as every single night when I dished up supper my baby sister wouldn’t want any food, she would look up at me with her dark eyes filled with innocence and say “My dad is coming with the pizza and I don’t want to be full”.  I would half smile at her unbelievable faith in believing that my dad would still bring the pizza.

Almost a week later my dad came early in the morning with a box of pizza in his hands.
“Give it to your baby sister” he said.
“But what about me? what about my pizza?” I asked suddenly craving the Italian fast food.
“But Nobantu I asked you if you wanted anything and you said you wanted nothing” he said and looked at me as I tried to come up with an explanation. I couldn’t think up of one so he left. I reheated the pizza and gave it my baby sister whose faith had been rewarded.  I moped around the whole day that day mulling over my dad’s weird persona and in the end I came to the conclusion that he is like God and here’s why:

1) My dad is loving man, not the hugs and kisses type but you know when you are in his presence that you are loved.

2) My dad keeps his promises, they maybe a little delayed but in the end you get what he promised. He promised me a car and I’m sure I’ll get one. He promised my brother he would kick him out of the house if he continued to misbehave and he did.

3) He wants the best for his children. He is a strict father, has never drunk a drop of alcohol or experimented with drugs, He warns us of the dangers of narcotics and alcohol. He put us through the best schools. He teaches us the hard way the things that the world would teach us in an even harsher way. He warns us of the consequences of not listening to him.

4) He is a hard worker, he built himself up when his peers where busy playing around- they all wonder how he got to his success. He indulges in resting after a hard six days of working; he did after all create his own empire.

5) He appreciates those who are grateful to him.  A “Thank you” to my dad is not saying those words to him but it is showing it to him- in other words you must live your life to show his impact in your life.

6) Everyone knows how good he is. People I don’t even know come up to me singing the praises of my father of how good he is and how great his achievements are.

6) He hates a lazy person.

7) You get what you ask for so be specific.

8) He is an enigma. In my 21 years of life I have yet to say I full know my dad and in his 48 years of life my grandma is yet to say she fully knows him but even so we love him and accept him, not knowing him to the fullest is what makes him amazing.

I love my father and every day I learn something new about him. I understand God better now because of him, he of course does not compare to the love and greatness of the Lord but every day I learn new aspects about Him and it is all because of him.  

New Beginnings

I have recently turned twenty one and I thought by this age a lot in my life would have changed but I have come to find that it is not so. My turning twenty one has made me look at life in a different way; I've always been a serious person from the age of seven, I guess you could say I have an old soul but I know how to have fun. I know that I can be a fun person but someone new to me might not know that, they may preview my blog and think it's "meh" and so because of my new revelation I have decided to write lighter pieces, they are still going to be innovative and interesting but theyll be more positive. I'm going to post some pics because I love photography. This is still a blog about me wading through the tides and waves of being a Christian.

Prepare yourselves for fun times ahead.

My Freedom Day

I am turning twenty one this year and so are my hundreds of other friends. This means there’ll be a lot of partying and drinking but it also means there’ll be a lot of gift shopping to be done. So yesterday morning I woke up to meet my friends at the mall, we had decided to put our money together and buy our friend an extravagant gift. After almost having a fight with my mother my brother drove me to the mall, on the way I suddenly discovered I had car sickness. I felt so sick that I could not even tell my brother to stop the car. I could feel the vomit lodged in my throat but I kept quiet, kept my composure and when we got to the mall I got out of the car and puked right there. I felt like someone was stirring my insides. I convinced my brother I’d be okay and he left. I walked into the mall and the floor felt skew (darn I was really sick) and walked straight into the bathroom where I puked some more. I breathed, walked out of the bathroom and into Game where I bought a bottle of coke (yes that toxic stuff that helps with a stomach ache) and gulped it down.

After what seemed like eons my friends finally arrived and informed me they were at the other end of the mall. Did I mention this mall is huge? They might as well build an air strip and turn it into an airport. Anyway I walked fast and like the apostle Paul kept my eye on the prize and looked to finish the race or rather get to my friends.

 There’s something about seeing the ones you love that lightens a heavy heart and settles a restless stomach. After getting hugs from them I felt much better and we started our shopping. We had decided we would get her jewellery, she did wear a lot of it and jewellery is like money, one can never have enough of it. This would be easy or so I thought. At our first shop my boy friend and I fell in love with a dragonfly piece, it was beautiful and it had a lot of detail on the wings but my girl friend did not like it so we went to another shop where we found more dragonflies and my boy friend and I fell even more in love with the flying insect much to the dismay of our girl friend.

So we stopped looking at the necklaces and decided we would get her a charm bracelet but we could not agree on what to put on it. We went to another shop and thought we would get her her birthstone until we found out her birthstone was diamond so that was the end of that idea. We went to another store and designed our own charm bracelet for her but then they told us they could not smelt the pieces on the bracelet themselves; we’d have to find another jeweller to do that so that was the end of that. Our girlfriend had to go and my boyfriend and I decided we’d get the first dragonfly we had seen. We asked the young lady to take it out for us and I tried it on and fell in love with it; I now wanted it for myself. As the young lady was wrapping it she came and informed us that the price was actually four times more than what we thought. “Okay put it back” we told her. My boyfriend wanted to buy a gift for a friend of his and he wanted a necklace from a display box, the young lady took it out and gave us a tangled mess of necklaces. “It’s not in my job description to untangle necklaces” she said as she slowly untangled the necklaces. I laughed. My boyfriend helped her untangle the mess and after admiring it he found out it was too expensive. We were at a dead end, where would we find a gift for our friends? We ran, literally ran through the mall to another jewellery store where we bought our friends a necklace and a bracelet.

Thank God we were done with the shopping now I could focus on being sick again. After hugging my friend goodbye I went to a shop to buy food but ended up getting junk food for my baby sister.  I tried calling a friend of mine who lived closed by but she did not answer. I decided to catch a taxi but I got lost in the parking lot and had to ask a security guard. I found a taxi, a beautiful clean taxi, I sighed, I would be home soon I thought but as soon as the taxi took off I felt sick again, this taxi driver would not like it if I puked in his car so I closed my eyes and shut my mouth. I opened my eyes to find I was surrounded by tall buildings, I was in Joburg, this taxi went north and I was supposed to go west. I was scared, I like people to think I know Joburg but actually I know zilch. I closed my throat and looked out, I saw the Nelson Mandela Bridge and was relieved, the taxi should stop here but it didn’t, it sped on and my heart beat fast. The taxi stopped at the robots and I got off without saying a word surprising the driver and the passengers. I walked and saw a huge building where taxis were going in and out. I went in and asked some guys about finding a taxi home, some didn’t know and some directed me into the wilderness. An old man tried hitting on me, I asked him about the taxi and he escorted me to one. I slumped into my seat and fell asleep. Some guy poked me, I gave him some money and fell back to sleep. I was woken up by some rowdiness: the passengers and drivers were fighting over the change. The guy who had poked me poked me again “how much did you pay?” he asked me, I told him and he told me I had paid too much and the passengers demanded from the driver that I get my one rand change back. I didn’t care. I wanted to puke. I wanted to die. I fell asleep again, my face squished against the window, the sun frying my right side; my ear would be as crispy as deep fried bacon. I didn’t care. I wanted to go home. “Anyone going to destination X?” the driver asked. He asked again except this time he was shouting. “I am” I slurred.

I got off the taxi, the ground felt skew; I tried my best not to keel over and walked with purpose to get home. The gate was open, the door left ajar, I went in and threw myself on the bed. I got in a foetal position and wallowed in self pity. Why me? Why me? I asked myself, a vision appeared: the finger of my doctor pointing in my face, his lips moved: “remember never to take this medication without ever eating because it might irritate the lining of your stomach”. That morning I was in such a hurry that I took my pills without there being food in my stomach. I immediately jumped off my bed and went downstairs to eat a block cheese.