Letter 1/24: Iyhooo

2024, 

I hope this finds you. 

Usually that sentence is accompanied by well wishes and manners. I’m not quite sure what to say to you. How does one address a villain? Homegirl, if you weren’t the Thanos of years, I’d probably have nice adjectives. You were. So, I’m just hoping this finds you…

Welcome to a longstanding tradition of reflective epistolaries which mark the end of the year. I must confess, things were so hectic on your timeline that I almost broke this tradition. I mean, how do you say “it was hectic” in 24 different ways? I know I don’t have the enough English to do that. Luckily for you, fate decided otherwise. 

You’ve served painful lessons, 2024. They came in different shapes and sizes. Lessons I can openly talk about, lessons I can laugh at to lessons which shook my being to the core. You may be the reason why I one day need a slightly bigger grave space…because I’m definitely taking some lessons you served with me there! 

You’ve been the iyhoooo to my Solomon, a dictator to my system and just crippling. I don’t know who put up my name on the strong persons list on your timeline but, I pray they forget the correct spelling next year. I hope they forget it even the year after. Infinity wouldn’t even be enough. Iyhooo! 

I look forward to wrapping up your final days…

Letter 14 of 23: Choosing Peace

 Good evening 2023,

So far so busy. Homegirl you aren’t disappointing! Worry not, I’m definitely not going to pull a 2022 on you. Not at the moment anyway lol. Please do me a favour. Pretend like this letter was posted yesterday…

This week is one of those exciting one of lasts. Yesterday (read today) was Chooseday and it had me thinking about some of my life choices. Not my 101 embarrassing moments. Not how I could have had a different career path (which I won’t mention 😂) had I worked hard on being an IT girl. Oh and also definitely not some of the crazy things I’ve done with my friends. No. None of the above. Yesterday (read today) I was thinking about most of the times when I had to choose peace on your timeline, 2023. 

What a difficulty! Fam, you have no idea how many times I’ve spoken to God about His marvellous creation. Peace, would almost always show up like an unwanted, and nagging, guest wanting me to pick her. I’d even be in my full blown phuma silwe (come and let’s fight) self but Peace would just enter the scene and whisper: “pick me. Choose me. Please pick me, you won’t regret it.” 

There were times when I listened. There were times when I didn’t. There were times when I would just be stuck…and eventually choose Peace.  

Choosing Peace is hard. Especially when the disrespect in the room is set at “no shame at all” degrees. That or when you’re just in shock at the disastrous wonders of audacity. Choosing Peace is like that “give them your left side” phenomenon they write about in the bible. It comes especially when you think your left hook would be the best. But no. Peace comes forward and reasons with you. Arg! 😂

I’d just like to give a shout out to myself for each time I decided to choose Peace…

Letter 12 of 23: Kuningi

 Saw’bona 2023,

Kuningi, which means a lot in isiZulu, made it to social media of the word in South Africa. Jonga, that word alone is an adjective that describes your timeline. Heck, if you could talk, I bet you’d choose to identify as kuningi 😂

A lot was going on thjs year! We’re on the last days of this year and a lot is STILL happening. Not one or two things. No. Multiple adulting strings pulling you in different directions. Further and further away from you being in denial that 90% of the time when ish hits the fan, you’re the adult who needs to sort it out. A good portion of that remaining 10% goes to the andizi (I’m not coming) button that you can hit once in a while. 

It came to no surprise that this was one of the most used words this year. I’m definitely one of those people who over used this word this year to just describe my state of being. Guys, we go through a lot. A lot all at once. Like the pause button has been plucked out of that old radio and you need a screw driver to hit it.

You know how life hits you and you feel the need to go back to primary/high school to demand your school fees back. 2023, your timeline did this. Especially in the kuningi context. When they taught us degrees of comparison, they never factored in the life comparison degree. Think about it, how many times have you felt like best just doesn’t do it. Bestest, where art though? Is hottest really it?! 

Fortunately for us on these streets, you can just simply say: kuningi. the kuningi is kuningier. It’s at its kuningiest. You can simply say that and the person you’re talking to will know just how much care and support you need because yeah no…kuningi! 

Disclaimer: I do not speak for everyone who knows how to flex the language of the king. Maybe some schools taught more than three degrees of comparison. Not mine. And, if for some reason they did, and I missed it, mush have been on my absent days 😂🤣

Letter 11 of 23: Amper

 Good morning 2023,

I hope you’re well. It’s an okay morning this side. You’re just choosing to be unkind on the weather side of things, ma’am. 

I almost said make up your mind and then I remembered it’s not such an easy thing to do. You can be here, there and nowhere every second until your mind is made up. Then one small thing comes up and then you start all over again. So I won’t judge your indecisiveness homegirl. Today I come in peace. Oh and when I say peace, I only mean towards you. I’ve got a bone to pick with myself today. 

Fam, you know when someone comes over and they say they have tea? How do you tell that the tea is hot before you’ve had it all? I have a few tells. Firstly, they need to tell me that I won’t believe it. Then my response should be something urging them to spill. Then, they need to give me at least one dramatic detail of it all before completion. This is where I then ask them to start at the beninging. Yes, the beninging because the beginning is just too linear and lukewarm in these cases. The exclamations during it all are compulsory. What’s tea without heyi, yho, you lie and noooo way! Want to know what would act as condensed milk in these scenarios? That snapping fingers motion once in a while just for emphasis! 😂

So the tea that I have on myself is: Fam, you will not believe this but, Linda almost fainted. Yeep, believe me. I’m telling you. Homegirl almost dropped flat (snapping fingers !). You know that thing she does of forgetting that she’s an introvert in extrovert skin? Heyi, I’m telling you she did it again this year. Was her visa application approved by the board? Nope. It was on pending and she still decided to present at an international conference. Will this girl ever learn?! Shaking my head! Was the ending messy? Amper (snapping fingers)! You know that Cece Winans song titled Mercy said no? Homegirl made me witness it. Live! 

2023, the rivalry between introvert me and extrovert me continued on your timeline! Very hectic beef this one. I don’t see it ending anytime soon. I can safely say that I will probably have way more “Amper” incidents in future 😂

Letter 5 of 23: Finding Jomo

 Hey 2023,

It’s Wednesday. I have no qualms with this day of the week. It’s my so close yet, so far away but it’s also always filled with positive vibes that I’ve got this. The week can still be saved or it can only get better 😌.

Today I’d like to reflect on one of my themes for the year- Finding Jomo. Be honest, what came to mind when you first read this title? Did you ask yourself who Jomo is? Was it the legendary football player? Or the movies on Nemo and Dory? Were you spot on and guessed that I’m referring to the joy of missing out? 

I had a pretty good feeling that I’d be missing out on a couple of things this year. Let’s just say I had a hunch. A very, very good hunch. So I just had to prepare myself to deal with the fomo (fear of missing out) and what better way to do so than to find joy? 

To be honest, like most themes and resolutions for some people, this was prettier on paper than it was in reality. I think the world we live in conditions us to fear missing out so much as if it were a pandemic. It’s not. It’s really not. I’m still telling myself that there will be things we miss and forever wonder about but, there’s more to life. 

We’re almost at the end of your timeline, 2023, and I’m still grappling with this. I’m working on being present where I am. I’m finding joy in moments of absence. Tricky space to be in but, the work needs to be done…

Letter 3 of 23: Unsubscribing

Hi 2023, 

How are you on this argh Monday morning ? 

Yes. I still don’t like Mondays. This hasn’t changed on your timeline. I must say though…you did spoil me with many Mondays where I didn’t have to Monday. I could just pretend like we were on Sunday 2.0 and go about my life. That period was bliss.

My beef with Monday won’t end anytime soon. If a person could subscribe to the days of the week, I’d be on the line to unsubscribe to Monday. Yhooo what a day…

Even though we can’t always get what we want, life sometimes gifts us with things we can get and treasure. This year, I hit the unsubscribe button to a page I subscribed to for the longest time: the Mbokodo hood. In South Africa we have a saying: you strike a woman, you strike a rock. I won’t get into the politics of this but this year I accepted I’m no rock and this is what I put together…

No mbokodo me 

If there’s anything that adulting has taught me is that I’m no “Mbokodo”. 

I’m an egg. 

I’m a marshmallow. 

I’m silk. 

I have no urge to hold the knife where it’s the sharpest.

I’m no rock.

I’m soft. 

I’m the s’kang atamela tsotsi type. 

My strength is no open invitation to oppression, discrimination, danger or hardships. 

I’m no “Mbokodo”! 

Letter 2 of 23: Wishy Washy

Good morning 2023, 

To say that you began on a wishy washy note would be an understatement. I didn’t even know whether to say “happy new year” or “stop die lorrie”.

I felt like I blinked and December 2022 was over. The only evidence left of its festivity was the fatigue. Januworry was staring at me like its usual five months in one would be ten this year. I was also licking my wounds from not completing the 2022 epistolary as planned. 

My phone got damaged almost exactly a year ago and my world went upside down. I was not even on home soil when it happened. That smallanyana device had a lot on it. Contacts, memories, screenshots, notes…reminders, birthdays…did I mention screenshots? 

If you’re reading this and wondering why I didn’t back up stuff - I did. And somehow lost it all over again. Don’t ask how. Just pretend like we’re in a Man in Black movie and Will Smith just made you forget. Salt gets added to my wound each time someone asks. 

My point, 2023, is that I began your timeline at the backdrop of this loss. It took that phone to get damaged for me to notice it was like a limb. I literally went into an involuntary detox and the withdrawal was real. 

That experience made me realise just how unique “loss” is as an experience. That and just how unexpected, and also unwanted at times, clean slates are. 

Knowing everything I know - I needed that reset button. Did I want it? Definitely not like that. Would I have had a hibernation like I did if this hadn’t happened? Nope. Am I grateful? The politically correct answer would be: yes. The honest truth is that I’m learning to. Gratitude has many shades and we experience them differently over and over again…

May

 A part of me feels like she blinked and it was already May. Where did March and April go?!

I don't know about you but this past month was just lit. Wait. 2021 nje has been lit. My "location"📍has just been rotating from one deadline to the next. In all this craziness, it's been quite tricky navigating self love while breathing through the wound of adulting. I've had this conversation with a few people and it seems like we're all going through the most...in one way or another.

Something came to mind while I was making a mental note of how this month is looking in terms of deadlines and "adulting" duties. I started thinking about May as a standalone word. How it expresses possibilities and how we use the word when we are hoping for something.

Dear reader,
May this new month bring you new possibilities to start over,
May you be open to the idea of being kinder to yourself,
May you hold on to moments which make you smile or laugh effortlessly,
May you be surrounded by gentle reminders that you are not alone,
May you repossess the power to self define,
May you forgive yourself,
May you heal from things you can't talk about,
May you extend warmth when you can,
May you be okay with Plan A,B or C not working out,
May you be present...

If all else fails, may you locate the bravery to pull a "stomach in, chest out" and just show up...

Letter 21/20

 Hello family, 

Yes, you read the heading correctly. No, you haven't missed out on much. What is this? A little something extra.

I heard a joke that closure isn't easy to come by. Apparently it can only be found in weaves. It took a while for me to get it. One of the downsides of keeping the same hairstyle for a decade is that you miss out on being current. Closure is very scarce! That girl is really hard to come by. Letter 21/20 is my attempt at "closure" after the #LettersTo2020 epistolary.

I'm surprised every time I visit the stats. The readership has really grown and that warms my heart. The circle is bigger. I'm so grateful for each and every one of you who have taken time out to join me on the reflective journey.

Thank you for adding colour to my healing journey. Thank you for the conversations after each letter. Thank you for picking my brain. 

Thank you for cracking me up. 

Thank you for sharing your personal stories with me. 

Thank you for reminding me, in more ways than one, that self kindness is a verb. 

As usual, I'm promising that I won't be a stranger on here. I'll try my best to keep writing and sharing the journey. I think I should have more conversations with friends. Maybe we'll do an Insta or Facebook live one of these days where we dig into the themes. What do you say? Let me know! 

Picking themes for this year wasn't easy. I've been back and forth. After much deliberation, my themes for 2021 are Will, "Stomach in..." and Psalm 143:8. I have a feeling that 2021 is going to be a bit trickier than 2020. The themes are a combination of "buckling up" and just letting things be.

The Will story is a very hilarious one. It is not the famous actor and also not what people leave behind when they die. My theme isn't even the expression of the inevitable. No. It's rather a combination of "laughing at will" and "where there is a will, there's a way". This is a dedication to my hopes and dreams...crossing fingers!

If you completed the "stomach in, chest out" phrase when you read it the first time then you're a G! In my hood that was one of the mantras that groomed little girls and young women. I guess this year I'd like to explore this double edged sword that raised us. Be kind 2021!

My scripture anchor is Psalm 143:8. A personal prayer that I have. Something that I do not always do. A guidance I need to sustain me.

I wish you all a blessed 2021. I wish you good health, courage to reach out for your dreams, strength to confront bad days and bravery to let go of everything that no longer serves your personal truths...

Happy New Year! 

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 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...