Letter 20/20

 Dear 2020, 

Only a  few hours and you'll be gone. There were times when I couldn't wait to be here. This past month has given me the feeling that 2021 is going to make me wish I was kinder to you so, I will be.

My final theme for your timeline was breathe. Yeah ne. Out of all the things I could have selected. Befitting ne? This year took my appreciation for breathing to a whole new level. Breathing is one of those simple things in life that we tend to forget or take for granted. 

'I just need to breathe through the bumps you'll bring 2020', I said. Little did I know. Nothing. Not a slightest clue! We all know that you sent more than bumps. Grace held my hand and helped me breathe on each and every day.

I'd like to take a moment to thank everyone who refilled my oxygen tank on days when it was low. I'd like to thank people who helped me manage my breath and get to listen to what my body is telling me. Thank you to people who cracked me up to a point when I had to catch my breath. Thank you to you who always come on here to read these letters. I love and treasure our conversations.

I'd also like to thank myself. Yes, I'm pulling an Uncle Snoop. I'd like to thank myself to being true to myself, for working on my healing and for denying my ego every once in a while. I'd like to thank myself for everything I've done for myself in the name of self care. I'd like to thank myself for every leap I've taken, every pep talk I've given myself and all the times I've forgiven myself. 2020 was tough and I held on.

2020, thank you for life and her lessons.

Tsek regards

Linda 

Letter 19/20

 Hello 2020, 

I come before you with exhaustion, swollen feet and a minor headache. The African sun has been kind today. Maybe too kind. Who cares though? I'd pick Summer and heat over Winter and chills any day!

Let's get on with the theme of the day: No. This theme, like the previous, had me asking myself why I chose them so many times on your timeline. One of those "enjoy the bliss of ignorance" vibes. Nevertheless, I kept moving.

I think my relationship with No has always been tricky. No is like a frenemy. You want her around when it suits you. Wish her away when it doesn't. She's ungovernable. Quite the moody type. You may not always like her timing but, at the end of the day you appreciate it. One more thing: I think she misunderstood too. I don't blame society for this though. Yes is a tough rival! 

Me and No haven't always had the best of relationships. You've given me the opportunity to mend it, 2020. Tough lessons learnt. I've learnt that I need to be kinder to myself about creating "no" boundaries. It's hard! Triggers are real.

I've learnt that receiving a no isn't always a bad thing. This year I've swallowed bitter pills, went on mopping sprees and talked my ego out of wallowing in self pity.

Thank you for every no I've received, 2020. Thank you for every no I've given. Most of all, 2020, thank you for every no I've accepted...

Letter 18/20

 Dear 2020, 

How do you do?

It's almost time. Isn't it? I'm dedicating the last three days of the epistolary to the themes I've picked this year: No. Breathe. Psalm 115. After a very long eenie meenie miney mo I've decided I'll begin with the scripture anchor.

Iyhooo! What a challenge! I honestly don't know what I was thinking. Guys, remember how I was acting as if themes are better than resolutions? Did you show me flames 2020!

My scripture anchor was really challenging. On all fronts. A part of me wishes that I hadn't picked it. Another feels like maybe it was time. Then there's the other that just feels indifferent. Psalm 115 may have been so simple back in 2002. In 2020 it has come with so many complexities. I understand why younger me picked the verse. My current self, on the other hand, didn't resonate much. At least not most of the time. 

 

At some point in the year, Psalm 115 made me think about the toxicity of Christianity as a whole. How the bible was used, and continues to be used, to oppress people. How blacks were racially excluded because of God's "will". How "forgive and forget" is very selective and somehow forgets verse 16. Just how we tend to forget the values and follow individuals instead of the personal relationship with God. Sigh.

I don't want to be the kind of Christian who looks down on other beliefs. I might have believed in single truths at some point in my life. Not anymore. So the concept of "one true God" unsettles me. This space isn't political. So I'll just leave this at that.

There were times when I found myself questioning the will of God this year. There were times when I truly trusted God and He came through. That I'm still here is one of the greatest blessings of 2020.

I'm thankful for Psalm 115. More than anything, I'm thankful that even my bad days were a testament that God is good...

Letter 17/20

 Hybo 2020, 

I attend the family meeting this evening. 

Our president, Cyril Ramaphosa, just addressed the nation regarding the Covid-19 lockdown status. 

My mind wandered and drifted during his address. 

Honestly believe that there are times when I feel like I don't even understand English. 

Maybe it's my system adjusting. 

We're going back to Level 3 with adjustments. 

Alcohol has been banned...again.

Today has been a lot. 

Mixed emotions. 

Heavy heart.

Only thing I can tell you, 2020, is that uyiFilm.

 You. 

Are. 

A. 

Movie! 

Letter 16/20

 Dear 2020, 

Sikwi last days ngoku! (We're on your final days!). Yes, I substituted last with final in the loose translation. isiXhosa just has that "thing" that English just can't capture.

It's your last Sunday 2020. It didn't feel like a Sunday at all. Sunday hasn't felt like Sunday in a very long time. It still remains my second favourite day of the week though. It's peaceful. It's "easy". Yes, Lionel raised us well. Sunday has a very calming effect that I can't describe. Mass brings joy. The naps are a mandatory tradition and they slap HARD! The only thing sad about a Sunday is that you're just closer and closer to the next day. The one that begins with M. Sigh! 

I haven't been to mass in a minute. This year takes the cup. It's been so frustrating. I must say, though, it was necessary and it couldn't have come at a better time. I've always heard the criticism towards Christianity that we do things out of routine and that we don't live the values. This has come up from introspection during prayer groups and people from other Faiths. It's true! While routine is good, it's dangerous when we lose touch. When routine falls out it is also as if we get out of balance. There's beauty in returning to the balance. You see your short comings. You understand scripture better. You become more compassionate to yourself and others. You miss being with others. You miss fellowship. It's a rollercoaster.

Something I've also had the chance to do, during this time, is to truly appreciate how different people are. To truly reflect on what it means to be a black, African and a Christian. To gain strength from other religions and their teachings. I think I've mentioned before that experiencing Ramadan changed my entire outlook on Lent. One of my meditation anchors taught me a thing or two about Buddhism. Most Atheists I know have remarkable values. I've learnt so much about protecting my energy and lessons from the universe from those who believe in astrology or choose to not confirm. My experiences with African spirituality, especially during this time, deserve an epistolary of its own! Why can't we all just get along? I guess we're too focused on being the "better" or the "best" or the "only" truth.

2020, thank you for helping me redefine who I am...

Letter 15/20

 Hello 2020

It's your last Saturday!

I normally do the playlist on the last Friday but Christmas ended up taking over that. So here we are.

We've already established that home girl has two left feet ne? So let's not dwell on that on this letter. Let's focus, rather, on her love for music. I love music. All genres. I must say that country and choral are my least favourite. It doesn't help much that most of my faves are so into these genres. I blame my beef with country on my mother. Yhooo. She would repeat songs so much that, yes, if the artist could they'd ask for water. Then she'll expect all of us to sing along. In retrospect, I was too young to understand the lyrics. What did I know about anchors and troubled winds?

The beef with choral is very personal. So I grew up in a community where choral music is part of life. Choral competitions and concerts were also a big thing. The concerts I'm talking about also double up as entertainment fundraisers slash auctions. So people can stop the performance, at any given time, using money to make requests or comments. Money talks during these request stops. So the highest "bidder" gets the final word. I used to dread these moments. It took forever for me to get the movements right and I had stage fright. Yikes. Bottom line, maybe the world could be a better place with less choral music? Yes? No? I have no beef with all the other genres. Those can stay. 

The playlist is just a collection of songs that have tugged at my heart strings and made me dance. They've given me joy, peace, taken me to places I'd been and made me just believe in the magic of life. I love them for different reasons. The messages and stories they convey, the memories they hold and the conversations they remind me of. Yes, I'm one of those weirdos who associate people with songs and memories. 

Before I share my 2020 list, I'd like to make a major shout out to Jerusalema. It was on my 2019 playlist and it's grown big. Well done to Nomcebo and Master KG! 

Without further ado, and in no particular order, here is my 2020 playlist:

1. Ubomi Abumanga - Sun-El Musician ft. Msaki 
   My ultimate "life goes on" pick me up for 2020. Didn't get it at first but when I did, it knocked me to my knees. This is for everyone who had major blows and Ls this year - the sun will shine. Ubomi abumanga! 
   
   
2. Ke Star - Focalistic ft. Vigro Deep
   I STILL don't know the actual lyrics to this song. I've made peace with the fact that I don't want to. I always pray it doesn't play in public because I might just be brave only to end up regretting it. Oksalayo: yho yho yho yho yho yhoooo!
   
   
3. Ntandane - Vusi Nova ft. Somizi
   LOVE. LOVE. LOVE this rendition! I'm obsessed with just how much the past is still breathing. I love what they've done with the song. The message still holds, thank you to our care-givers for the tough love lessons. They've really molded us. To those who've passed, your love lives within us in ways we can only imagine.
   
   
4. Molo - Aubrey Qwana
   This has been a very tough year on friendships. I've sadly lost a few. Reconnected with childhood and varsity friends. I've also come to appreciate the ones I have remaining. All I can say is, appreciate every moment. Also, "ngibonga abangasekho. Ngibong' idlozi lami". I'm so thankful to those who came before me.
   
   
5. Imali eningi - Big Zulu ft. Intaba Yase Dubai Ricky Rick
   In South Africa there's this long standing stereotype that Xhosa women love money and are the ultimate gold diggers. Let's just say that this song was the ultimate revealer. Turns out, MOST of us want the same thing. I'm still waiting for people who want stones to put their hands up. Thank you, Big Zulu. Ngiyabonga Nkabi!  P.s low key wouldn't mind doing the #DuduzaneChallenge!
   
   
6. Mamela - Mi Casa
   Another magical piece from Mi Casa! LOVE everything about this track. It gives me butterflies...Need I say more? 
   
   
7. Ngibambe la - Mthunzi ft. Claudio & Kenza
   This song just summarises one of my favourite days in 2020. Golden memories...
   
   
8. Ndikhokhele Remix - Jub Jub & the greats
   What a beautiful song. Absolutely love jamming and praying to it. Dear God...
   
   
9. Obani lababantu - RIP GeeSixFive
   Firslty, this song is dedicated to friends of mine who believed this song defined their 2020. Secondly, our dreams are valid. Lastly, who are these people?!
   
   
10. Di Boya Limpopo - Master KG ft. Zanda Zakuza & Makhadzi
    I've always loved Makhadzi. I remember years back when I was asking my friend why she hasn't blown up. I'm loving her blow up and I'm here for her rise. This track is a hot one. Absolutely magic!

There are two songs that didn't make it here. I'll probably get grilled for them but...I'll take the blows later. In the meantime, enjoy the playlist...

Letter 14/20

 Merry Christmas 2020!

At the last family meeting the president made mention that this could be the last for many. That hit me so hard.

It's true. This year has completely changed the way we live. Above it all, it has taken. It has ended jobs, broken relationships and taken lives. My heart breaks as I imagine bread winners who couldn't provide today. There are little ones who couldn't flex in their Christmas clothes on the streets. So many families aren't feeling festive because of the chill of death. For many, today is far from merry.

I can't imagine how my next Christmas will be. The way things are going with the second wave, making it to next Christmas will be a blessing beyond measure. I don't even want to think about my family and friends. Life is fragile and something just tells me that 2021 is got to be lit. 

When I think about people I've lost, I'm always taken back to our last memories. I always wonder if I could have done anything differently if I'd known it would be my last. The scenes that play out are always different. On some days I wish I had one last memory. On some days the void is too much to bare. On other days I hold on to my favourite memory and treat it as if it were the last. On days when I can, I appreciate each moment because it may be the last. 

This is probably the first Christmas where I'm really  not worried about the commercial and consumerist aspects of the day. I guess we can't fully escape those. I'm not worried about chopping or getting salad recipes right. I haven't handed out a single gift. Christmas clothes? I left that WhatsApp group quite late but this year just certified things. I guess this year I was only left to appreciate the real value of things and how most of them aren't tangible. As corny as it may sound, it's true.

Note to my future self: A "merry" Christmas is a blessing. I hope that your faith has nurtured you. I hope that you're still true to yourself. I hope that you're still kind and still believe that joy should be shared. I hope that you're still guided by gratitude...

Letter 13/20

 It's Christmas Eve, 2020! 

It's Christmas Eve and I've abandoned tradition this year. Actually gathered courage to start something new. Something I've low key always wanted to do but gwababa (fear) didn't let me. I wasn't going to be able to pull it off this year either but plans changed, I saw a gap and I maximized on the opportunity. Something 2020 taught me quite well.

I'm blessed with circles of all kinds. Each close to my heart in a different way. While I end up being the "baby" in most of them, I'm a senior in a few. Very few lol. So it's a role I hold quite dear and close to my heart. Today I'd like to take a minute to share my reflection with my younger sisters, my younger brothers and those who prefer not to conform to gender categories.

Yes, I know I come across as a strict and no-nonsense taker. I hope you know I've got a crazy and laid back side that's just a joke away from cracking up and forgetting that I was even reprimanding you a minute ago. I hope, above all else, that you know that my door is always open to listen. Even if I won't agree. I'll listen and acknowledge your validity.

2020 has been crappy but it's reminded me of the importance of generational healing. I've tried to share my failures with you. So that you may know that perfection is an illusion. I've tried to share my fears with you. So that you may know that elders also struggle with locating courage. I've sat with you on your darkest days. To show you that sometimes elders also don't have answers. I've tried to show you that discouragement isn't permanent. To show you life isn't always fair. There are days when I've told you things would get better. While deep down I prayed that God doesn't make me a liar. 

I still feel under qualified to have you looking up to me. That will take a while to get over. At your age, you do things I wouldn't have imagined when I was that age. You're brave, kind and so courageous. I just know how blessed I am to have you. To be inspired by your dreams. To crack up at your jokes and outlook on life. To marvel at your amazing resilience. To wish I could have been your age just so that we could actually hang out more. Even if I think I wouldn't make the cut in being part of your squads. I know I'm blessed to share interests with you and to share your journey.

2020 has made me value you even more. It's inspired me to redefine so many aspects of who I am that were defined, and crafted, by pain experienced by previous generations. I've realised that most reasons behind "you can't" are buried deep behind limiting projections. I started something new today so that I can be able to tell you that you can....

Letter 12/20

 Hello 2020, 

I hope this letter finds you well.

I love that line. Can't believe there are people who don't mean it when they send it. How. Could. You?! Know what else I like? Music. I like singing along and butchering lyrics. I enjoy getting them right, every once in a while, and just going down memory lane.

There are those days when we can't stop the feeling, when we're feeling like rooms without roofs and there are days when we can just feel that days are going to be good ones. There are days when we're having bad days, sing sad songs and just want to be at our parents houses. Bongo Maffin captures this perfectly in Kura Uone. Then there are those days when we hlonipha ilife (Respect life)...RIP Mandoza.

If today were a song, it would definitely go to The lazy song by Bruno Mars. There are so many times when I've felt this way but the adulting gig doesn't come with such perks. Today it did. If someone had told me this 20 years ago I would have laughed in their faces. Slow, quiet and lazy days are the epitome of happiness in the adult world. Okay, I'm not speaking for everyone. I'm just a representative of the WhatsApp group.

Life has a fascinating way of giving us revelations about ourselves. Especially the ones we're not ready to hear. Especially at times when we least expect to receive them. Especially when we have, for the longest time, believe in a truth. I don't think I can emphasize the "especially" of the timing itself. 

I promised I'd be fair to you and I'm trying to stick to that, 2020. Most lazy days have been a bliss. A reminder that a break from the hustle and bustle is important. That sometimes we need a breather and a break from it all. That peace is priceless. That we need to make self care a priority. Thank you for this reminder...

Letter 11/20

 Hello 2020, 

Only a few more days and then you'll be gone. Yaaas!

So, I've had a bone to pick with you since you took a U turn a few months ago. There was a time when I thought I'd do a "10 things I hate about you" list on the final days. The other idea was to post one liners each day to save time on going through how hectic you were. Then there was the option of videos. The drawing board was full. In the end, I just decided to go with the flow and do my best to be fair to you.

One of the things that stood out for me during the lockdown were the local and international trends of challenges. Those were lit. People baking, exchanging dance moves, putting their little ones to the test and pulling pranks on families. The influencer challenge left me in stitches. Then there was the global one where we had to dance. Homegirl has two left feet but I think I held it down. I'll talk about that when we get to the top 10 hits for the year. My favourite challenge is the #DuduzaneChallenge. Loving it. Especially because it gave me and my Xhosa sisters a break from the stereotype of us being gold diggers. Turns out, money is something that many of us are in pursuit of.

I may not have been brave to get out of my shell and participate in most of these challenges. Some of them were too hectic fam. Especially that one where John is being asked to open the gate. I've enjoyed them though. Okay, I'll be honest. My mirror has seen the dance ones lol. In a weird way, I've learnt that sometimes being an observer is the best position to be in. Sometimes we need to just sit back and allow the joy of others to rub off on us.

Humour is good. Humour is a need. Humour is a remedy. Shared humour is like oxygen. 2020, you've made me appreciate humour. 

Letter 10/20

 What's good 2020? 

Wait, do people still say that? Or is there something else that's popular on the streets? I ask because some of these things are age revealing. Well, I'm sure there are 90s kids out there who will not find the greeting outdated.

We're halfway through the epistolary! I dedicate letter 10 to my dreadlocks which I've been growing for the past decade. The plan was to actually do this back in September but life happened. We're here now and I'd like to use today to go down memory lane. 

I can imagine that, especially for people who have just recently met me, it is hard to imagine me without my locks. They've low key become part of my "look". I guess it's one of those features that people cling on to. I've been given descriptions from "uRasta we yellowbone" (The light skinned Rastafarian) to "that chick with dreads" to "Linda with the good hair". I used to hate being called Rasta. Not sure what it really was. I guess it unsettled me because Rastafarian women cover their dreadlocks and it's something sacred for them. I guess I felt like an imposter everytime someone called me that. It was also never someone who was actually Rastafarian. Greetings from them always come with a certain warmth and I always feel like they have a deep appreciation of the significance of the hair. If I could read minds, I bet they wish I had enlightenment.

The past 10 years has been quite interesting. I remember how I looked like I had worms on my head in the beginning. Hated everything about this stage. Especially the lack of creativity in the generic hairstyles. The most memorable, and by far dramatic, experience was when I got  arrested while doing my hair. That was a horrific experience, I tell you, but I walked away with street cred. That and how people easily offer me stuff or assume that I use. Let's not talk about how security questions are read really slow at the airport. Just in case.

I'm fortunate to be surrounded by people who know that complimenting my hair and bashing women who prefer weaves in the same breath makes me cringe. I love my crown. It's easy to manage. One of the things I hardly worried about when salons were closed. Very cost effective. No admin at all. Yes, it speaks volumes about identity and culture. I don't just let anyone touch or treat it. I'm deeply rooted but on most days I'm just on that India Arie tip: I am not my hair.

Today I'm looking back at the many times when I wanted to cut it. Thankful that I didn't because I'm enjoying their current length. Just not when they're wet and need to dry. Almost 90% of people who ask about my hair ask how long I've had it. The looks on their faces after I respond are always priceless. Rome wasn't built in one day and starting afresh isn't always bad.

Yes, this has got nothing to do with you 2020. Not everything is about you. Rest! 

Letter 9/20

 Hey 2020, 

I greet you in the name of exhaustion, chest pains and body aches.

I've always been a physically active child. Liked cross country, netball and a bit of long jump at some point. Didn't like track much. One of my favourite childhood memories is how me and my homies used to have our own mini athletics. The relays were lit. All this used to drive my mother crazy back in Primary. I guess because I'd lose my hair bands and come back looking like "I wasn't taken care of". The asthma (induced) got bad in high school and my parents banned me from sport.

Needless to say, in varsity I didn't get involved in anything that needed too much physical activity. My inhaler was my best friend. Until a stint in a Taekwondo team. Let's not talk about how that ended. To be honest, the plan was to head back to training. It won't be possible now since I've relocated and all. Girl still knows her ap and dollyo chagi's though. Enough to keep her ground on these streets. 

When I returned to fitness I was mainly inspired by self defense. I wasn't expecting to part ways with my inhaler for dependence or just being calm. There's so much beauty in martial arts. One of the things I picked up during this time was jogging. What a beaut!

I have an on and off relationship with jogging. Sometimes I'm in it. Most times I'm struggling to even keep it together. Other times I can't even spell the word "run". I'm currently in the "in it" season. Homegirl is on her way to 10K. This might be for the hundredth time but who's counting? We move.

Furthest I've ran this time around is 7K. What a victory! Running is TOUGH. Tougher than most things I've done. So many factors working against you. Went for a run this morning and it was lit. Felt like crying at some point and just throwing in the towel. Fighter in me stuck it through though. Will is something else!

2020, I'm thankful for the lesson that the road to health isn't like some drive through. At the end of the day it's simple things such as hard work and resilience that bring true happiness...

Letter 8/20

 Dear 2020, 

How are you?

Naturally I've had a number of conversations about your rough patches. The underlying theme, in all of them, is how this wasn't the year of wanting to have more but the year of being grateful for all that we have. It's been a challenge because consumerism has been engraved in our DNA.

I didn't really grow up in a community where mainstream Christmas traditions were a thing. Our Christmas is in summer so there's no snow. Some people get the trees and decorate them but we're not big on it. Carols, stalkings and mistletoe traditions were also highly limited in my lived reality. Let's not talk about Santa. One day I'll tell you how my mother tackled such. All that doesn't mean that we don't follow consumerist traditions of our own.

Our parents might have not entertained the idea of Santa but Christmas clothes used to be a thing. I remember nibbling ginger cookies so much this one year that I ended up having a tummy ache. You know how they have the trick or treat tradition for Halloween? Our version here is called "happy". It's died down though. Those memories of going around, asking for happy and having to dance to Brenda Fassie songs, however, remain golden. 

Today I'd like to just take inventory of all the golden connections I have that 2020 made me extra grateful for.

I'm grateful for spaces which allow me to be myself. Spaces that are sensitive to my insecurities but don't allow me to sleep on myself. Spaces that remind me of my black girl magic on days when the realities and odds of black lives matter are stacked in my way. Spaces that laugh at my quirky jokes and also leave me in stitches. Spaces where I'm reminded how precious life is. Spaces filled with cheerleaders who believe I can.

2020, thank you for making me aware of golden things that really matter...

Letter 7/20

 Hola 2020! 

Can't believe that our conversation is already at the 7th letter. Time flies ne!

The number 7 has always signified perfection or all things good in my life. I guess for me it's been about the seven gifts of the holy spirit. How one of my favourite Kwaito artists is attached to the number. How cool the name sounds in my mother tongue, isiXhosa. There was also a hang out spot back home where everyone would go to and the unofficial yet popular name was Kwa 7. Yes, everyone except for those of us who lived in Robben Island. Boy, did I envy those free souls who were allowed to go! 7 also holds a special significance in one of my close friendship circles. The Top 7 entry for my birthday might have been inspired by my love for this number. So I think you get it that the number is just one of those things I've attached symbolism to.

Okay wait. One more attachment to the number. 2020, do you know why 6 is afraid of 7? Lol. One of the funniest jokes you'll ever hear! 😂

From all the seven days of the week, Friday happens to be my favourite. I love FriYays! Sundays being my second favourite. There's just something about Friday man. So the 7th letter landing on a Friday is no coincidence. As Elsa Majimbo would put it: "It is NOT a mistake! It is NOT".

While seven signifies perfection, 2020, your experiences and adventures have reemphasized the lesson that perfection is an illusion. At the end of the day, we measure our experiences by how much self kindness we have in our cups and gratitude for opportunities. Gratitude for those opportunities that we are granted. Gratitude for those opportunities that we miss. I think this is one of those constant reminders that ground one in this adulting gig.

Not all my Fridays were joyous this year. Some didn't even feel like Friday. I've had to put out fires on some, go the extra mile to locate the yay to my Friyay and just wish we could skip to Saturday already on some. I think I've slept through some of them too. A few years ago this would have weighed me down. Not this version of me. I'm grateful for the rain, 2020.

Today has been one of the best Friyays. I stayed in bed longer. Meditation left me lighter. I've enjoyed the company of loved ones. I busted a move or two to some music. The holiday season has finally kicked in and the days are starting to feel the same but...TGIF! 

Letter 6/20

 Dear 2020

There's a meme that I've once seen where someone was saying that we shouldn't forget to give credit after hating. So 2020, even if you've been the crapiest, you've dished out some wins shame. 

One of my favourite wins was being featured in the inaugural compilation titled “Women’s Words: Experiences and Realities”. The project, put together by The African Dialogue, collected voices from women across Africa. It was such an exciting project. Bylines don't just come by these days. I'm no longer working as a journalist and it's been a dry season there by academia. When you get the time, send prayers family. Those streets are rough!

I didn't know about the organisation at all. I was plugged by someone. It wasn't the first time that the someone in particular plugged me. I met him at a conference before joining university. He plugged me to join a student association. I did. Even went on to become a national executive member. He was amongst the tribe supporting me. After alerting me that I've made publication he told me how he knew I was perfect for it. Then it dawned on me: "I am because you" isn't some lame proverb that our people hold dear. It gives life to so many things.

2020, even in the midst of your crappy experiences you've brought amazing moments. You've reminded me to value the importance of supporting others and walking their journeys with them. You've made me aware that showing up when days are grey makes the rainbows of celebration look brighter. You've made me grateful for my tribe which remains in my corner even on days when I don't feel like showing up. You've reminded me just how much I am because they are. Camagu!

Read my piece and lots more amazing others from the compilation here.

Letter 5/20

 Dear 2020,

It's Reconciliation day in South Africa. This public holiday holds so many contradictions in my country. I prefer to stay away from politics of it all and do my own thing. I started a personal tradition when I began the reflective letters back in 2018. On this day, I decided to head to Reconciliationville.

There's always a section in town or part of a neighbourhood that you avoid. I know I still avoid areas where I'll be subjected to call calls or crowds or unnecessary drama. Reconciliationville is filled with those. Today I'd like to reflect on some of those "no go" zones that you've taken me to 2020. 

So I'm not very big on confrontation. Emotional drama drains me and makes me so uncomfortable that I avoid it. My empath radar helps with this most times. Not this year. I've gotten into so many tiffs and disagreements this year on the personal front. Each incident unique. I guess most of them had been building up for years and it was just time for the explosions. It poured.

Reflecting on each case has been interesting. I'm seeing that I'm not as patient as I thought. I appreciate the honesty of the engagements. I'm chilled with the apologies that won't come or weren't authentic. I've got traumas of my own that still need more work. Some conflicts were necessary for me to leave comfort zones. There were times when my ego needed more nursing than my need for peace.

I guess I've got two highlights from all the dramas. Firstly, there are African adults who know how to say that they are sorry. They don't disregard your views based on when you were born and they validate your differences. Bless them. I can only speak for Africa when I say that they are a rare species. Secondly, we need to put less focus on who was wrong and who was right after conflicts and focus more on sharing perspectives. There are so many peaceful revelations that come from that.

I've also learnt to accept that there are things I'll never reconcile with - the triggers of death and just other things that stay bottled up in my chest.

I hope I form part of a generation that apologises to those younger. I hope I let go of the linear notion of villains and heroes. I hope that I realise that the greatest reconciliation is the one I make with my inner self. 2020, I will forever be grateful for this lesson...

Letter 4/20

 What's good 2020?

So the family meeting happened yesterday. It went as expected. Number 1 didn't have many surprises. Every family has favourite uncles and aunties. Ours is no different. There are those family members who you don't touch. Every family has rebellious cousins, uncles and aunties. Those ones are just like people who ignore pavements and create their own pathways. Let's just say I'm still crossing fingers for grace to see us through all this. 

Time has been so strange this year. On the one hand I feel like I've gone through three years in one. On the other hand I can't believe that the year is almost over.

Despite struggling with it at first, I think this year I've mastered the art of just letting some days go. Giving in to the Netflix and chill culture, keeping busy with things that don't require much physical or emotional commitment and just allowing time to pass by. There were times when I wasn't even sure which day of the week it was because days felt the same. Getting into this was so frustrating at first because I like routine but I think it was for the best. I'm not as exhausted as I was this time last year.

I lost track of time today. This is something that would have low key freaked me out. It didn't. I've come to realisation that sometimes losing track of the world is important so that we can be in touch with our inner selves. We get so fixated with time, to-do lists and deadlines that we can't even identify how we're feeling.

I feel relaxed. I feel anxious about the spike in cases. I also feel thankful for the gift of life. Above all else, I'm at peace with feeling different things all at the same time. Thank you for days such as today 2020...

Letter 3/20

 Dear 2020,

Are you well? I am too despite the day of the week.

South Africans have a family meeting this evening. Number 1 (Our president) is going to address the nation on the state of Covid-19 affairs. We've had these regularly since we were placed under lockdown when the first wave hit South Africa in March. The numbers have been spiking and we're now being hit by a second wave. 

When the first lockdown was announced it felt like we were in some weird movie and someone had flipped the script. The restrictions and limitations took "plans change" to a whole new level. Plan B became Plan C. Plan C became Plan D. Jonga, before I new it I was looking at Plan L with bated breath. At the end of the day, turned out to be Plan Z that worked. Life showed us flames this year!

I guess tonight's family meeting will be like previous ones. There's the side of the family that won't even be bothered. There's the side that will watch hoping that the blow won't make this year any more worse. There are those family members who are stocking up on bev and cigarettes just in case. There are cousins who are adamant that nothing will stand in their way of groove. South Africans have a unique way if dealing with collective trauma. We hardly dwell. I guess we can't help finding rainbows and silver linings. We move on while deep down we carry the wounds of our past that are still present in our present.

I'm not looking forward to the family meeting. We already have hotspot regions in the naughty corner. I think tonight the list is getting longer. We haven't been at our best behaviour. Something just tells me this meeting will be a final nail to some businesses. My heart breaks for families who've lost loved ones. People struggling with comorbidities. Everyone whose life has been turned upside down by Covid-19.

One of the hardest things to accept this year was that there really is a time for everything. 2020, you've been a taker and you continue to wreck havoc...

Letter 2/20

 Hello 2020,

As most of you know I grew up in rural Eastern Cape, South Africa. We're big on tradition and culture. Double edged sword I tell you. I say this because the lessons imparted there have formed the cornerstone of who I am and I'm proud. I say this, too, because there's also toxicity that I grow uncomfortable with each and every day. Those are stories for another time though. My Xhosa folks are big on hierarchy. One of the many things you're told growing is up is not to be a spoon. If I had received a rand for all the times I heard "Musa ukuba licephe, Linda!" (Don't be a spoon, Linda), I'd be filthy rich. Why? Spoons carry while they themselves are being carried. Basically boils down to adhering to the hierarchy of things. I've adulted so much this year that I ended up regreting the days when I couldn't wait to adult. Gone are the days when I used to envy the masses who carry spoons.

I've known that adulting is a trap for a while but, boy did you make things worse 2020. Bantase, I wish they had told me that things aren't so rosy here in Adultville. The weight of those spoons is heavy. One of the worst things about that weight is that it doesn't come with a healthy manual of dealing with things.

The lockdown period felt like a large magnifying glass on that manual. Oh you know, the manual that hides behind keeping routine or any of the things we do to "escape" the reality of our situations. Things we did because others did and not because we even understood them fully ourselves. One of the growing pains of Adultville is letting go of expectations that other people must show up for you. The expectations we harbour that we will be treated the same way that we treat others. The expectation that life will always be fair. Lockdown made me confront the real reasons why I was scared of change.

It's tough here in Adultville but I'm taking each day as it comes. 2020, thank you for teaching me the art of breathing in and out and getting out of bed when all I wanted was to snuggle in for "5 more minutes". Thank you for making me appreciate the luxury of being able to show up...

Letter 1/20

 Dear 2020, 

I don't even know where or how to begin my conversation with you. I've been dreading it. I've been dreading it since this year took a very quick left and became the craziest I've ever seen. I bet 2019 laughed in our faces while we bid her good riddance on some "you ain't seen nothing yet" tip.

You know how they say that it takes a village to raise a child? I think discovering this is how and when I learnt the art of avoidance back in the day. I was a little bit mischievous. Yes. Only a tiny winsy little bit. Every time I got into trouble I'd almost wish that both my parents were present so that I could be punished once. Worst case scenario was getting up to mischief while I was out and about and the elder who punished me promised to tell my folks. I'd mull over it. Wonder which part of my body would be attacked or which privileges would be revoked. The village had its cons!My mother once went through a phase of asking us to pick our branches for punishment. Now that was tricky. I've always known how to dodge my father though - make sure you're closer to the nearest exit during the confrontation. Just in case. 

All your exists were closed 2020! Girl, you weren't even kind enough to make us pick our own branches. You just hit us with a snowball of curves and we just had to dodge, duck, take the jabs and...survive. You were also kind though. I'll give you that. You were kind enough to reconnect us with parts of ourselves we had lost touch with. You've shown us new depths of gratitude. You've, and continue to, make us aware that plans are subject to change and that guarantees are a luxury. You've taken. You've given revelations. You've brought change...

I never really have a formula for these conversations. The main goal is to reflect on the year that has been and the lessons imparted. It's hardly ever a walk in the park and I don't expect this series to be. All I can hope for is presence and sincerity from my side.

I'm looking forward to sharing the journey with the Life and Her Lessons (LAHL) family. This blog has been a safe space for conversations we hardly pause to have in our daily encounters. As the year draws to an end, I look forward to finding meaning from life and her lessons with you all...

Letters to 2020

 Hello family! 

I've been looking at the stats and the circle has grown bigger since the last time I checked. Welcome to everyone who is new or here for the first time. Welcome back to the tribe of readers who are regulars. You are all appreciated.

As most of you know, I began writing a collection of reflective letters at the end of 2018. I think the correct term for it is epistolary. The Netflix and chill junkie in me is so tempted to refer to the collection as a series. If that were the actual case, Season 1 of the letters was published during the last 18 days of 2018. Season 2 was in 2019 when 19 letters were published. I'm happy and excited to announce that Season 3 of the 20 letters to 2020 kicks off on 12 December. 

When I first wrote the letters, I was trying to revive the blog and get back into creative writing. Little did I know that I wasn't the only person who needed reflective conversations. Each letter has brought an opportunity for conversations of healing, joy and an escape from spaces which suffocate us with the toxicity of silence and the inability to just talk about certain things that life and her lessons throw our way. 

I'm looking forward to the 2020 reflective journey and I trust that we'll walk it together.

Take care.

Linda