Purple Lipstick

First Week of University as an International Student

You don’t know what you have until it’s gone. Everyone knows that saying. But very few people really understand what it means.

My first week in this foreign place I had my mother and her sisters to settle me in. I was basically being spoiled so I did not miss anything. I had a part of home with me (my mother). The day she left however, the depression hit me, I was so alone. Everyone goes on about how this is an exciting time of my life, they are wrong. I have found this daunting.

It’s my third week and I still cry when I come off the phone with my parents. Because this is not home. We all dream of leaving home. We all want it. We hate the power cuts, we hate the potholes, and if you’re like me you even hate ZRP. But when you come to the other side you realize that all those things you hate, you actually love. I have not experienced the happiness that comes with the joyful shouting of “magetsi awuya!” on this side. It’s such a simple thing but I want to experience it again.

Everything is so different here; the food, the way people speak, even the weather. Moving here is different from when you are here for holiday. When you are sitting in the bus the energy just feels so dead. Whereas, back home you know the Kombi driving will be pumping Jah Prayza and Disappear by Winky D.

Everything is just so new and the weather so cold you just find yourself going back to your apartment and feeling so under the weather and just dreaming of home. There is so much pressure: to excel, to make new friends and not to let your parents down because they have spent thousands of dollars to get you here.

This article has been rather depressing, I know. There are some pretty okay parts of your first week like meeting new people, the shopping and of course the nightlife which I must say is RATHER LIT! But those back home must savour everything that is being a Zimbo, the good and the bad. I actually miss how wild ZRP can be and how I was once “fined” for a wide turn! What even is a wide turn?

Lastly, I want to touch briefly on knowing who your own are. You will go to Australia, America, England or Canada and say I don’t want to go back home. No! These countries will never look at you as one of their own. I am the black girl with locks here. Everywhere you go they want to see proof of your visa. Because this is not home. We do not belong here; we belong where we came from. You will face so much racism. Some subtle and some from whole institutions. The people here will never accept us like we will be accepted at home. At home we can walk freely in the streets without fear of being accused wrongly or fear of being shot. There is no place like home and so because of that know what you have and know your own. Enjoy that mazoe, enjoy those uni snacks maputi, enjoy basking under that African sun (kudziya mushana), enjoy celebrating with the maid that magetsi awuya. Enjoy it all.

Thursday, September 29, 2016
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Women Are Leading Africa

Inspiration

Our hearts flutter whenever we see women leading. I think Africa often gets a bit of a bad rap when it comes to the way women are treated (there are definitely things we need to work on.) However, today our team decided to put together a short list celebrating some of the great ways Women are leading in Africa! We hope that by you reading this you might get some inspiration and become a leader yourself one day soon too! Enjoy J

1. Female African Presidents

1. Out of the 200 countries that make up our world only 17 are led by women. Out of those 17 heads of state 3 are African!

Ellen Johnson-Sirleaf has been the president of Liberia since 2006 and was the first ever African, female head of state. Sirleaf was jointly awarded the 2011 Nobel Peace Prize with Leymah Gbowee of Liberia and Tawakkol Karman of Yemen. The women were recognized "for their non-or violent struggle for the safety of women and for women's rights to full participation in peace-building work." Ellen Johnson-Sirleaf is a great example of how African women can not only be placed in positions of leadership but can thrive there!

Saara Kuugongelwa-Amadhila is the current Prime Minister of Namibia. Kuugongelwa has been in office since March 2015 and had previously served as the countries minister of Finance. For all of you Eco’s buffs the prime minister should give you lots of hope, as she studied Economics as her college major!

Catherine Samba-Panza is the president of the Central African Republic (CAR). Even though her term ended this year, we wanted to keep her on the list because of the amazing work she has done. Following the Central African Republic conflict under the Djotodia administration Panza was elected as the countries interim-president to preserve peace. Her call for talks between both sides to the conflict was welcomed by the parties. She presided over a period that was said to be without law, functioning police or courts. We celebrate her for her stance and commitment to peace!

2 2. Rwanda: The most elected female politicians in the World!

An incredible 64% of seats in the Rwandan parliament are held by women!!! 64%, that’s more than half and makes Rwanda the world leader in female politicians!!! Senegal, Seychelles and South Africa have more than 40% each, and Mozambique, Angola, Tanzania and Uganda are not far off, with women occupying over 35% of all parliamentary seats. Considering that women hold only 19% of the seats in the US congress and 20% in the senate, Africa is leading the world in this right and we should definitely be proud of that!

3 3. Fashion and Business

Folorunsho Alakija is the 3^rd richest woman of African descent in the world, second to Oprah! Alakija is the first female billionare from Nigeria and for all the fashion lovers reading this, fashion is one of her major income generators (that an oil ;)). If you’re a girl and you love fashion we think you should keep at it, you never know where it could get you!

Tuesday, September 27, 2016
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"Boys Will Be Boys"

alberts thoughts

When I was younger we used to have chickens in our yard (like most Zimbabweans at one point in their lives). They weren’t the pretty white expensive Broilers that would make the yard look organized and economical. Oh no, they were those kumusha type, few feathers missing, road runner chickens; and they were as anxious as they were unattractive. They were constantly on edge and would be scared of almost anything. They would run at the sight of even the slightest disturbance and blurt out loud clucks as they did. For their security we would place them in one room at night. But that was no comfort to them. The slightest sound, even the sound of a branch landing on the roof would send them into a panic and like an orchestra the entire flock would erupt into exclamations of desperate pleas for help.
What was worse was we had dogs, and for a few days we had to drill it into them that the chickens were not food. The chickens could not have cared less about our scolding and instructions. They were horrified every time Rex and Tiger ran about.

When they would make their noise from whatever trivial thing would frighten them, my mother would ask me to go check on them and see what was going on. As you can imagine this quickly became unpleasant and frustrating and after many nights of waking up and finding nothing there I eventually confronted my mother with this question
“why are they so scared all the time!?”
My mother, who is always kind and thoughtful with her answers to my questions, smiled at me and said,
“That’s what chickens do. Chickens will be chickens””

Flash forward a few months, and the chickens have become part of our regular scene at home. My siblings and I (as children tend to do) began to find ourselves attached to these chickens and ended up giving each one a name, petting them, and treating them as if they were babies. We’d rush home from school and scramble to grab some mealie meal and feed our little squad of pets. We’d add grass to their nests, chase the dogs away if they got too close, and save the chicks from whatever mess they would find themselves tangled in.
It was while we were doing all of this that I noticed something strange. The chickens began to act very differently. They would still panic here and there but they were far less noisy at night, far less cowardly at the sight of danger or disturbances. In fact they started to become brave! Chasing little children that came too close to their nests, sitting right in my lap as I ate my lunch, and walking on top of the napping dogs as they roamed their yard. The chickens became unreasonably brave, chasing maids and gardeners who entered their territory, climbing roofs, and eating food that was not for them.
This may have been funny and often times scary to observe, but when it came time for the chickens to be slaughtered (much to the children’s dismay) , the chickens were too confident to realize the man with a knife was here to kill them, and they would only run last minute. Baffled and annoyed at their failure to flee, I approached my gardener and asked him,
“why do these chickens not run!?”
He laughed and pointed at some roosters fighting and said back to me,
“that’s what chickens do. Chickens will be chickens”

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Chickens are both symbols of cowardice and fearless pride. What determines which characteristic we see, tends to depend on what the chicken’s environment promotes.

I wonder what it means when we think of boys being boys as an inescapable truth that only applies to their weakness.

I wonder if like the chickens we assume their behavior is justified and permanent.
I wonder where the line is drawn as absurd or nature. Like the chickens and the dogs versus the chickens and the branch on the roof; a cat-call versus writing an inappropriate comment on their photos or posts.

Boys will be… what we allow them to be.

Tuesday, August 30, 2016
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Overcoming Depression

guest blogger

My Message To You, The Youth

When I started to feel depressed, I didn’t even realize it. The feeling crept up on me very subtly. It started around November of last year and slowly worked itself into the New Year. Sometimes it hid itself. I would have days when I felt very low, tired and moody, and then I would have days when I felt joyful and blissful about life. This deceived me into thinking it wasn’t anything significant, until I got to a point in April this year when I would wake up in the morning feeling like there is a heavy boulder on me. I would sit on the couch all day doing nothing and the cycle repeated itself everyday for almost the whole of the school holiday. No one ever asked me why I wasn’t doing anything productive, so I didn’t say anything about it. A part of me felt guilty. I felt as though I had no reason to feel this way; I had a roof over my head, food on the table, a happy, loving and healthy family and I had the opportunity to attend a very good school. I would tell myself “You’re being selfish, there are people starving out there. Some children have to work to support their families in this country and here you are, moping about nothing”, and because of this I began to feel more and more isolated. I felt like I was alone, like no one else I know could have possible felt this way. I soon learned that the monster within fed on my guilt, on my insecurities and on my silence. I wanted to tell a friend or a family member how I was feeling but something was convincing me that if I told them they would judge me, they would think I was silly for feeling this way and I would be shunned. So ironically, in order to keep from being shunned by the people close to me, I isolated myself from them.

The more I kept quiet about how I felt, the more I sank. I felt like I was in an abyss of deep sadness and there was no escaping it. My battle with my feelings felt like a tug of war; sometimes I would feel slightly hopeful, almost like I was winning, then in an instant I would be back in that negative place I was trying so hard to escape. Part of the reason I was so quiet was that I felt like our Zimbabwean society would not accept to look at depression as a serious thing and I had no idea how many other people were feeling this way. Every time I thought of telling someone about it I would just think “This is stupid. Many people feel pressure from school. Many people have felt at some point that they are not that important. Many people feel untalented. Get over yourself.” The problem with this, I have come to realize, was that I was catalyzing the process of killing the light inside me. The more I told myself this, the more I convinced myself that feeling this way was a part of life. I told myself that this is what happens as you get older; you feel the weight of the world on your shoulders and you just have to accept that your happy days are over, but as much as I thought this, I hadn’t reached rock bottom just yet .

I eventually escaped this state when my brother suddenly got very sick and I had to muster all my strength and dedicate it to supporting my family. My feelings were suddenly no longer my captor. The experience shocked me out of my depression and through it I realized that I was stronger than I was giving myself credit for. My brother’s sickness drained me emotionally, but it taught me that I am going to encounter challenges in my life, but giving up will not help me. As much as this experience was unpleasant for me, I realize that some people have it worse. Some people feel very much alone and even contemplate ending their lives. I am dedicating this article to a very special friend who is going through a hard time right now, and to anyone else who is experiencing this. My message to you is that feeling depressed does not equal whining. Your feelings are very real and significant and talking to people around you may seem scary, but it will help you. When you experience depression it’s very hard to visualize a brighter future, but it truly does get better. I think it’s time we stop feeling afraid or ashamed about our personal struggles and reach out to others and ask for help.

I wrote this because I want to start a conversation with other Zimbabwean teens about the pressures we experience in our society and what effect they have on us, because simply knowing you’re not the only one going through something can really give you a lot of hope for the future. Therefore I want to start a blog, a safe place where we can all talk about our problems and provide help for each other, because this year I have come to realize that a lot of people around me are experiencing some sort of depression or anxiety, but they don’t always express it. As much as it is safer to keep our feelings to ourselves, I think sharing them may not only help us, but many other people I our situation as well. So let us share with each other our struggles. This is my message to the youth of Zimbabwe.

Thursday, August 25, 2016
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Getting Over My Insecurities

power

Its been a while since I've written on here ( i'm sorry, the team and I have been prepping for some exciting changes that you'll get to know about soon!) I honestly can't believe the year is almost over :'( I saw an advert for a musical about the Grinch on T.V. the other day and nearly fell out of my chair! Prompted by this sudden realization and a string of other events, I've decided to share a bit about a personal journey I've been on this past year and where I'm at right now.

Last week someone told me that they had been looking at old pictures of me on Facebook and that they, and surprisingly their kids too, could barely recognize me! ( side note: even though you may be tempted to think...mmmmh, that's kinda odd... its important to note that we are all secretly cyber stalkers and given a chance, I'm sure I would stalk people with my kids too if I had some!)
Anyhow this lady was so confused as to why I had changed my look so much. She thought I looked a lot prettier with longer, darker hair, and you guessed it, her children thought the same thing too! The minute she said that to me I felt a knot in my stomach. Her words echoed my own thoughts from earlier this year and awakened a fear I thought I had already overcome. Let me explain what I mean.

At the beginning of this year I undid my braids. After they were out of my hair I stood in front of the mirror and had a thought... "why do I keep hiding my own hair?" For many of you reading this who have been woke for a while, that might not seem like an epiphany at all, but for me it was the first time I'd really had that kind of thought. At the time I hadn't had my hair out for an extended period of time since early high school, and even then only because it was against school rules to have hair extensions or braids. Even when I was in the United States, where getting your hair braided costs an arm and a leg, I'd somehow found a way to always have something covering (only barely though, haha!) my natural hair.

Growing up one of my secret vanities was the fact that I hardly wore any make up. I think it gave me some sort of strange, unbelievably unfounded pride to think that I was secure enough to only wear mascara while other girls were piling on the makeup and doing THE MOST. Removing my hair extensions showed me just how shallow my self perception was and left my insecurities exposed and bleeding out. Without all the hair to cover me I could see every single pimple glaring straight at me! My forehead seemed larger and shinier than ever before and my ears didn't look quite right. I sat in front of that mirror for a very long time pulling, patting and twisting the fluffy mass on my head until finally my arms grew too tired to lift. I really want to tell you that suddenly in that moment I realized that I was beautiful just like that and I loved my hair in all its fluffiness and bells started to ring praises! However, the truth of the matter is, I placed the mirror on the opposite side of the room, switched off the lights and went to sleep.

Whatever your insecurities are whether its starting that organization you've been thinking about, or posting that piece you've been wanting to share, or maybe something seemingly superficial like me, leaving your natural hair out, you have power to subdue it! Every time you overcome your fears and liberate yourself you liberate others around you to do the same. After that evening I decided that regardless of how I felt I was going to face my insecurities head on and allow myself the freedom to choose how I saw myself. Something I found was that as soon as i became self-accepting not only did I begin to like the way I looked but other people started wanting to do the same!
I've always hated that kinky haired, dark skinned women can never be the love interest in t.v shows or movies. I hate that we grow up seeing silky straight hair as the norm and try to reconcile that to our every day lives by burning our hair with straighteners or fixing it with relaxers. I hate that I live in Africa where most people look like me but its easier to find makeup and hair products that cater for my fairer skinned counter parts than for the majority of African girls I know. One thing I've learnt is that if you want to see a change in the world you must become that change yourself. I might not be doing a whole lot but I am changing the narrative of my own life and possibly (if I ever get a boyfriend, who then turns in to a husband) even my future children's lives too!

We're coming to the end of the year and I'm happy to report that the fro is still around! I haven't completely gotten over all my insecurities, the Facebook lady made that really clear to me. However I feel more comfortable in my own skin, now than ever, pimples and all! If you're reading this I hope you can see through to what I'm trying to get at. I talk about natural hair a lot only because it was a really big insecurity of my own, not because its super important... it really isn't (depending on the context ;)) What I really mean to get across is that if you have an insecurity you're not alone! The cool thing is that when you face your insecurities head on sometimes you can affect the world around you in a positive way! This week try to identify an insecurity of yours and figure out a way you can take the power back. If you do or need help with it please let me know either in the comments or email me at wearepurplelipstick@gmail.com. I'd love to hear from you so we can conquer the world together! As usual if you've gotten this far you're a legend! Thanks for listening, I genuinely appreciate it <3

In Love Always,
Marly

Monday, August 22, 2016
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The Worst Kinds of Pain

guest blogger

The Worst Kinds of Pain

These are some of the worst emotional pains I have ever felt. It took me a pretty long time to type this article (thank you Lower Six for the crazy number of holiday assignments you come with) and I really hope you enjoy it)

1. 1. When we find ourselves rejected by that one guy we actually dared to hitch up our skirts and chase after we go hysterical. (And yet we’ve been rejecting all the other ones that have been approaching us. Hmmm). I am not sure why, but we feel that we should do the dumping, we should do the blocking and the rejecting. Equality isn’t a half-way-house kind of thing. It goes all the way. And then there are those who say “But, Tendow, are you saying that it’s okay for a guy to hit a girl?” That’s not what I’m saying. Nobody should be hitting anybody. Period. I digress. My point is there is nothing wrong with you when this happens. You are still the same beautiful you and just because somebody doesn’t see your value doesn’t mean it’s non-existent. The right person for you is somewhere out there (cliché, yes. But still true). And when that person comes they will treat you better than gold and silver because unlike gold your worth never decreases because the world’s standards have gone down. You remain the same; priceless.

2. 2. On social media. When we post the same picture as Miss I-Am-Popular, wearing the same clothes (for reasons unknown), posing the same way (pout game so strong), but they get a hundred ‘likes’ in ten minutes before we get to twenty (oh, the pain). And we lose it. We go into that deep phase of self-analysis and promise to start dieting the next day or start using waist trainers. LET ME BRIING IT TO YOUR ATTENTION! We are all beautiful no matter what anybody says. You don’t need a million likes or a thousand comments from boys to convince you that you are beautiful the way God made you. Once again. You are NOT for sale so they do not place a value on your worth. You are not a product made to look shiny and clean for somebody to glance at and move on to the next item comparing prices. Do not give them the power to do so. Own your look. Own your flaws. Own yourself. Embrace yourself; every bit.

3. 3. I believe this is the worst kind of pain. When we feel like we don’t matter. And it’s more painful when you feel that way around those you consider to be your friends because we trust their judgement. The words they say leave you scarred for a long time and it’s a bit odd how the same pretty lips preaching “Girls unite” are the same ones tearing another girl down because of what she wears, how she speaks or where she’s from. ‘We are only as strong as our weakest link’ and we are either all about supporting the girl-child (all of us) or not at all. Keep your arms around the shoulders of your sisters because as you are protecting them, they are supporting you when you are at your weakest. It doesn’t matter where you’re from or your religion or nationality or race. Our differences make a colourful collage when put together.

Thursday, August 18, 2016
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"You are Beautiful"

guest blogger

“You are beautiful!” “You are beautiful!” “You are beautiful!” “You are beautiful!” I hear this probably every single day from my girlfriends at the cafeteria at school, at the gym as we work out together to get this perfect bodies but I am lost, world!! I tell them how beautiful they are too knowing how compliments are very necessary in the life we live in now. You want to always know you are beautiful or at least ‘trying to look beautiful’. This is what I have learned from the society through my naïve ears and eyes. I have learned that if you do not fit a certain standard, you’re synonymous with the lesser. I have been caught up with the nonsense of it all. I am walking through a road of unreachable expectations. “God! I wish I looked like Gabrielle Union.” Statements like this have made me believe that I can never actually be good enough. I want to be like someone I will never be. These unreachable expectations break every individual striving to be like somebody. Body’s not good enough? ‘Don’t eat, you’d rather starve, you need that flat tummy.’ I look around, plastered photos on billboards, commercials, music video scenes, barbie dolls. The typical beauty queens. Oh Beauty! I have realized that beauty is having hair that falls perfectly straight. Cascading like waterfalls. Eyes so beautiful. Diamonds faltered in comparison. Skin that’s not too dark. They say “light skin is the right skin”. And a body that belongs on the cover of Cosmopolitan. Beauty. I put on that make up they tell me to, to look for perfection. Concealer, foundation, mascara. I fill in these lines till I’ve colored myself “pretty”. As if it hides my emotional scars. I am screaming to the world. “Is this what you want? What about what I want?” And then, there’s this thing called a mirror. If I look in I see my reflection. The picture so clear. I can’t help but make an assessment. I still see every flaw, every imperfection, every insecurity, every heartbreak, every time I wish I were that person on TV. But what is this beauty?

I have been racking my mind trying to find the perfect definition on what beauty really is but I just don’t seem to find a clear one. I have been trying to look for beauty by trying to fit in. My idea of beauty has been tainted and poisoned. Never do I remember my mother’s words any longer. I cling to what I have been made to believe by the boys at school and by the men with eyes that never seem to get off what they call beauty. I hold on to the societal demands of beauty and I forget that, beauty, was never meant to have a definition. Beauty was meant to be looked at with fascination. If you think beauty is more than the surface of your skin. Then you have started at a good place to begin. Beauty is not on the outside. It is not something that you can see. Beauty is something within you. Something you just have to be. Beauty is always giving, and asking for nothing in return. Beauty is that thing deep inside you. It is not something you can learn. Beauty lingers in everyone, it sleeps within the soul. But only some of us find it, and that is what makes you whole. Beauty is being a friend, a friend that is always there. Beauty is believing in someone, and letting them know you care. Never feel disheartened, a lack of beauty is never near. Beauty isn’t I love you, but giving love that’s true. Beauty isn’t sweet words, but words that inspires lives. Beauty isn’t what you say, but the way it’s said. Beauty can lighten eyes, but true beauty lives, very deep inside. Its grace can bring joy to Hundreds of hearts. It is easy to find beauty, just gaze into the mirror. And remember that the only thing that matters, really matters, is that you can meet your eyes in that mirror each day and know that you have been true to yourself and that you know that beauty is more than the skin you are covered in. Make those scars beautiful. “You are beautiful”. “You are beautiful.” And I don’t mean to sound cliché, but yes you are beautiful no matter what they say. His body was broken His blood spilled so one day you’d realize what you are in His eyes. Unexplainably Indescribably Unequivocally Beautiful In Him. You would be wondrous and made whole. Sweetheart, one day you’ll believe that beauty is more than the physical. One by one, the pieces will align until you can look at yourself, head held high, smile and say I am beautiful.

Thursday, August 11, 2016
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Purple Lipstick

First Week of University as an International Student

Women Are Leading Africa

"Boys Will Be Boys"

Overcoming Depression

Getting Over My Insecurities

The Worst Kinds of Pain

"You are Beautiful"

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