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| Masani Baily |
I heard a quote a while ago that said, “the only constant thing about life is change.” Growing into my passion I have realized this. As an elementary school student I learned to play my first musical instrument, the trumpet. From there I learned to play piano, drums, guitar, viola, and most recently violin. As a child I knew music would always be a part of my life. Overtime I have seen my love for music mold into a love for other things like journalism and multimedia. My passion in these things have guided me into adulthood. In the past, I looked at music as a hobby or an extra curricular activity. Now as an adult I see it as a path that can guide my career choices.
As I transition into adulthood I am learning how important it is to have balance in your career. As an African American woman, I am learning that the economics of one’s industry is important but does not determine how much one can earn. I am learning that financial literacy is as important as staying abreast to recent happenings in one’s creative field. Before I entered adulthood I perceived those things working itself out on it’s own. Now I am realizing that all parts of my life are important and vital in my journey to success.
As a girl leaving adolescence and approaching adulthood, the most important thing I have learned is to never stop seeking knowledge. Whether it’s knowledge on finances, fitness, the arts, or simply how things work. I have learned that my quest for knowledge is what will guide me to a happy career in music and entertainment and will help me gracefully adjust to all things that come with becoming an self sufficient woman.
Masani Bailey is a public relations practitioner and content creator with a love for music. She is a recent graduate who currently writes for TheSource.com. In her spare time she enjoys playing tennis and viola.
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| You can only be yourself. |
Dear Queen,
I am going to get preachy in this letter, but I know that
you need it. Mum passed away two years ago, and this pep talk has been a long
time coming. Here goes.
Embrace failure. Embrace rejection. Right now, as difficult
as it is, they have been acting as your best friends. They have saved you from
yourself and your need to people please. Your life is not about fitting in.
When it’s time for you to fit in, you will know. For now, I simply ask you to
step out of the assembly line and try something new.
You have always been awkward. It wasn’t a problem till you
left the safe haven of home and joined primary school, but ever since someone
innocently pointed it out, you’ve spent precious time trying to fix yourself.
Darling, allow me to use a well known cliché here. You are different for a reason. God, the Universe, the omnipotent, the creator
(whatever you feel comfortable calling him/her.); he made you unique, as he did
everyone else. You have ignored that fact for a long while now. Need I remind
you of your most common prayer requests made by your bedside? You asked him to
not make you appear so different. You asked him to not make you stand out. You
asked him to allow you to fit in. He warned you against that path, but you
insisted. He allowed you to have your way for the last couple of years, you’ve
blended in nicely, but it’s not worked out so well. Has it? This year will mark
thirty years on this earth my dear, may I humbly suggest you now chose to do
what you were born to do.
I see you with that
familiar lost worried look on your face most times, like the one you had on
your first day at school. You keep looking for approval from the same people,
when your gut has clearly told you to walk away. Some people are not your
people.
It’s taken a while
but you are finally coming around. Be proud of yourself you’re starting to
listen. Please don’t allow people’s bad behavior to paralyze your progress.
Sometimes people act out of fear, and you need to recognize this if you going
to learn which feedback or criticism is good for you.
I must gently and sincerely tell you, that the original plan
you laid out for yourself isn’t working. The problem is you’ve been trying to
figure it out all by yourself. Do you recall when you were little your mother
helped you nurture your relationship with God? She often reprimanded you when
you were disrespectful, or even took your spiritual education for granted. She
wanted to teach you the importance of commitment. Those were important lessons.
She was preparing you for adulthood. Try your best to remember them.
I am glad you have
started working on a serious relationship with God. This time you’ve done it
all by yourself. In the past, you have often bounced back and forth between
praying in desperate times, then forgetting God during the good times and seeking
the approval and acceptance of others. I guarantee you if you work on that one
relationship successfully, you will be able to sort all the human ones too.
Can I ask one thing of you? Tell God the truth about how you
see him. It’s important you build your foundation on the truth. If you don’t
believe he cares, tell him. If you don’t believe he is supportive, tell him. If
you feel he abandoned you, tell him. Do yourself as favor, and stop whining to everybody
else about how God doesn’t show up. Tell God, and then leave it to him to
figure out how he will answer you. Don’t take that responsibility from him.
It’s a relationship. You must allow him to do his part.
Now let me just save you some sleepless nights and confirm
that God does answer prayers. Take time to nurture your relationship with Him,
and you’ll find that you catch the answers he sends a lot quicker and a lot
easier. Yes, I used the word ‘catch’ because if you have already decided how
God will answer you, you will miss how he ACTUALLY answers you. Let God show
you how he works. Let Him show you how well he does things. You’ll be
impressed. Don’t restrict yourself. Allow God to show you who you are and what
you should be doing, even if it’s so different from the norm.
Note that your life is going to change now that you are
focused on healing yourself. Don’t feel guilty that you have chosen to take
time to work on yourself. You have your own journey and you have your own life
to live. You can be afraid, but don’t let fear consume you.
I really am proud of
you!
Thank you for being so brave. Thank you for listening to God
and cutting a new path for yourself.
Lots of love
Maria
Write a 'Dear Queen' or 'Dear King' letter for yourself too.
Write a 'Dear Queen' or 'Dear King' letter for yourself too.
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| A sunny Sunday afternoon in the garden |
There is something magical about Sunday afternoons
Something that makes us mellow and less prune to tantrums.
Ignore Facebook, ignore Twitter, you can answer your
whatsapp messages later.
Be relaxed. Let that
warm champagne bubbling feeling of silent bliss spread through you, turning
your insides golden, like those cheeky sun beams that peep through the white
lace curtains temporarily painting the house a beautiful lazy yellow haze.
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| Can you hear the sun calling? |
It’s beckoning you to come outside and play. Don’t you
remember how it used to call you when you were a child, when you and the sun
were such close friends. Remember morning sunlight was the only thing that
could scare the monsters away…
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| Don't hesitate... |
Don’t hesitate when the sun calls, I know you are not 8 years
old anymore, but please trust me on this one. Leave your phone on your desk.
Carry your current novel and go. Make sure it’s a novel packed with stories
from other realms. It should be filled with names you can’t pronounce. Even
when you say them quietly in your head, you should still hear the imaginary
sounds of stuttering and pausing as you connect the phonics like a five year
old learning to read again. This story should have lands that unapologetically
defy the laws of physics. It should feel like silent defiance to that science teacher. The
one that said you daydream too much.
“SURPRISE! I am an adult now Teacher. Despite your
reservations, I made it. In fact I did better in the sciences than I did in the
arts. But guess what Einstein liked to day dream too! But most importantly…It’s
MY Sunday afternoon and I shall spend it imagining....”
On Sunday afternoon,
it’s okay to be still. The bible tells us so. You know this, because you have heard this
verse quoted many times before but you are not sure exactly where.
Today is the day for your creator and you to officially
catch up on life matters. You’ve just spent the morning putting on a decent
dress so the ladies in church won’t gossip about you, but you know such ladies
they can’t help themselves,
“Still single, can you imagine? Let us pray
for her soul. ”
Let them pray the demons away, Lord knows you've tried.
You had to use your energy reserves to fight off fellow worshipers with your elbow and handbag, so that you could atleast have that wobbly plastic white chair by the side of the entrance, only to give it up 15 minutes into catholic mass when an elderly man with a cane and a bad limp stumbled in. He stared you down, waiting for you give him the chair. Reluctantly but humbly, you tiptoed to the side of the church and scanned the premises for another vacant space to seat. After mass you drove home, pondering to yourself the meaning of the second reading, but you promptly give up trying to figure out how to apply it to your life, when you found yourself aimlessly wondering through the baby clothes section of the small supermarket, where you stopped on your way home to buy a few household items. Now after the morning’s struggle to be close to God, this afternoon has to be a little easier.
You had to use your energy reserves to fight off fellow worshipers with your elbow and handbag, so that you could atleast have that wobbly plastic white chair by the side of the entrance, only to give it up 15 minutes into catholic mass when an elderly man with a cane and a bad limp stumbled in. He stared you down, waiting for you give him the chair. Reluctantly but humbly, you tiptoed to the side of the church and scanned the premises for another vacant space to seat. After mass you drove home, pondering to yourself the meaning of the second reading, but you promptly give up trying to figure out how to apply it to your life, when you found yourself aimlessly wondering through the baby clothes section of the small supermarket, where you stopped on your way home to buy a few household items. Now after the morning’s struggle to be close to God, this afternoon has to be a little easier.
All your anxiety driven thoughts can wait, chase them away
like the neighborhood mongrels, tell them to come back later at 10.00pm when you
are about to retire to bed. By then you’ll have some leftovers for them to
fight over and feed on, giving them the strength to nag you, slowly nibbling
away at your confidence and self-esteem through the night, and then most
importantly through the week as well.
Outside in the garden on this special afternoon, use your
eyes to look at all that is around you, and your ears to witness the sounds
encompassing you. Allow yourself to focus on being present, to hear the birds
chirping, the leaves rustling, the goat at the bottom of the hill bleating, the
children next door cackling, the house girls gossiping, the teenage lovers quarreling….
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| You can just exist |
You can just exist. You can watch your chest move up and
down. You can stop taking your ability to breathe foregranted. You can marvel
at how your body keeps itself going, despite you failing to appreciate it. Can you hear your heart beating? Quiet
yourself down so that you can hear the subtle “THUMP” it uses to announce it’s
presence to your body. I always imagine the heart as the lion of the savannah
of my body, and the ‘THUMP’ is it’s roar reminding every organ who is really in
charge of this life. The brain can die while the heart is told to beat by a man
made machine, but when the heart goes, everything goes with it. How many beats
per a second can you hear? Count them. Stop and be comfortable. Be unbothered
by the need to please others. Instead, right now, please yourself.
Send those guilt ridden feelings on a charted flight to
Monday. Don’t make the mistake of mishandling them otherwise they will betray
you, they will use your body to expose your worst secrets, so send them gently
on their way and agree to a meeting place.
A meeting place like your paper swamped desk at work, it's the one with the dust covered yellow
post-it notes all over your cubicle walls.
Today is about God and you. Aunty Solitude can be a daunting
and scary relative who’s visits you have been conditioned to dread, but just
imagine, on Sunday afternoon she is the one who arrives with a suitcase full of
your favorite treats. .
I remember when we were young, after church, we’d spend the
afternoon at a swimming pool while my mother napped peacefully on a mukeka in
her favorite fetal position, her A line plaited skirt pulled and tucked under
her legs. Using her colouful lesu as a
light blanket and one of our sweaters as a
pillow, she would find a nice welcoming area under the shade of a tree
or one of the metal umbrellas. We’d
splash around pretending to be dolphins, Super Heroes or Olympic champions,
until the cold from the water forced our bodies to shiver and our teeth to loudly
and uncontrollably chatter…then we would slowly remove ourselves from the pool
and lie on the warm concrete square slabs waiting for the sun to warm us up
again, after which we’d dash back into the light blue pristine sparkling water
to begin the circle of activity all over again.
Occasionally,
as if on cue, my mother would sit up
from her slumber, and look around to ensure that no one was drowning (those
swimming lessons are worth every shilling), but also so she could count us to make sure no one had wondered off. When there is so much greenery around, it’s very
tempting for children to slip away and hunt for fairies, because according to
the laws of story books this is the perfect environment for them. Especially if
you knew that fairies could make wishes come true. I am sure we all had a list
of wishes somewhere. Yes you once wrote them down on colorful Mickey Mouse
paper with a blue crayon because you couldn’t find the yellow one. The yellow
one is always missing. This was the time when being able to draw the letter Z
in the right direction was a serious accomplishment.
On a rare Sunday afternoon, when my father wasn’t working you’d
find him with us in the kitchen making kabalagala, (banana pancakes). The melt –in-
your-mouth-full–of-sweetness kind of pancakes. Munching and swallowing
kabalagala still warm and fresh from the fryer, our hands covered in flour, we’d
often wonder, “What is Dad’s secret?” “How come mummy’s are not as soft as his?”
Never mind that we’d just spent an hour and half kneading the mixture over and
over until he was satisfied. We thought
it was magic. We forgot, he brought a logical
scientific approach to everything. That he had calculated the precise
measurements of ‘how long’ and ‘how much’ for each ingredient to create the perfect
round pancake each time.
On a sunday afternoon, walking barefoot through the garden
for no reason at all, suddenly seems like a fabulous idea. When does an adult
have the time to do such things? Who cares what the nosey neighbor will say? Today
is about God and you, and on a serious note, your long lost friend the sun just
called you out to play.
This grass and your feet used to be so familiar, or have you
forgotten? Don’t you recall running barefoot upon it when you were 6 years old
dreaming up new adventures with siblings or playmates? Sticks became swords.
Basins became shields, bicycles became horses and trees became fortresses. Let’s
pretend that mum never saw you climb up a tree in dress. Shhh.. Let’s just
pretend.
The local church with it temporary silver tin roofs and donated
brown red earthy bricks, is still carrying out praise and worship at 3pm. Their
young enthusiastic pastor received his calling to build a church just seven
years ago, when he woke up after an alcohol and drug filled night in a large ditch
full of rubbish and sewage in Bwaise. He could not fathom how he got there, but
he is very sure that God spoke to him. Anyway, who are you to judge? It’s Sunday
afternoon, it’s supposed to be magical.
Can you hear that sound from far away? The local church
choir is sending soothing old-school hymns across the many fences along the
hill, up to fill the air around you. These are the kind of songs that can heal
the broken-hearted and the defeated. The type of songs that restore and renew
your faith like that first time you heard psalm 23, or the song ‘Amazing
Grace.’
The singing helps you to privately carry on with your Sunday
praise, you find yourself bobbing your head and humming to the music, as you
wonder through the garden, allowing your feet to become familiar with your old
friend, the grass.
If you have been struggling to take a nap, this is the
opportune time to take it. In your
dreams, your soul reminds you of it's bountiful capabilities. Have you forgotten, you are not of this
earth? You are merely visiting. You are an immigrant passing through on a life
time holiday package experience. No visa required…. or maybe your physical body
is your visa and passport to life, all rolled into one…..who knows?
You can drift
in and out of a Sunday afternoon nap undisturbed on the foldable beach chair
that was bought from the side road hawkers. The purchase was made out of boredom
induced by the back-to-school traffic . Or you could tentively steal away
Omukulu’s rocking chair that was a gift from the last Kwanjula. Pick up your
book and disappear into another world for the next three hours. You are safe, no one will
come looking for you.
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| Just pick one and get comfortable.. |
Not a problem.
No thoughts coming through.
Just space.
Empty space.
After all, it’s one of those magical Sunday afternoons
designed to make sure you enjoy being.
****Inspired by all the things that go on in my head and 'Big Magic' by Elizabeth Gilbert****
I am sitting at my desk. It’s 2.00am and I am unable to
sleep. Although it is silent now, just two
hours ago I was screaming down the phone, while the rest of the house was quietly
settling into their warm beds for the night. They were smart enough to stay in
their rooms and ignore my outbursts. I would have been just like them, if I hadn’t
gone against my first instinct. I decided to answer a message without properly
thinking it through, and now I am sleepless sitting at my desk with my laptop
writing this.
I am trying to figure out where I got it in my mind to help
people fix things. Where did I get the idea
to sacrifice for those that are close to me. I am trying to think back to that
particular moment where it was ingrained in me to help. Most
likely it was my mum…. possibly my Dad…. but mostly I think it was my mother. No wait…my father too. My mother
would fix things for us. My father would fix things for others. She would help us. He would help others. She would sacrifice for
us. He would sacrifice for us, but also for others. Between them both, I learnt that my parents were always helping others. Always, there was some relative or family
friend who needed antiretrovirals drugs, or who’s child needed school fees. I
remember the young ladies who came to stay with us while studying a vocational
course, but somehow got pregnant instead and were sent back. Always, my parents were helping. I remember I would always get into trouble if
I appeared ungrateful. To this day I
still suffer random pangs of guilt for moments where I forgot to say thank you,
where I may not have shown sufficient appreciation. The moments are lost. The
people are gone from my life, but the lesson is too deeply embed that the guilt
lingers.
I feel myself settling into adulthood, everyday. And with
that comes painful pinches of wisdom every now and then. One of them is
removing myself from drama. A lesson I learnt from my father. Sometimes to see issues clearly I must dig up all my emotions
one by one and send them off . I tell
them to come back two or three hours later. Then I take a deep breath and figure
out the first step
When does the line of parent and child change? When does a
child become an adult? When can a
person start to do things on their own? They
say our generation will be worse off then their parents. Or is that we are already worse
off? They say that our generation has
been taught that it is special, and that is why we will fail. We don’t know how
to work hard for anything. How long are
we allowed to expect our parents to drop everything when we need help? I
thought at some point it becomes a choice for us to do things on their own. Some
people start fending for themselves in high school. And just how much can one
relay on their family to fix things and how much should we be willing drop everything to fix things?
If you can see that your helping is unwanted or causing too much drama should
you just stop? But my mother
would fix things so I learnt to fix things
When I left to go the Canada at sixteen years of age, all I
knew was my parents and my siblings.
That’s all I knew. Them and school are all that my life evolved around. Whatever I needed, I asked for it and it would happen. All I had to do was wait. “ Mummy, the teacher says we need
this…..” And somehow my parents would
fix it. “Dad, everybody has this, May I get
one too?” Of course after school we would
make our way to the shop, and if it wasn’t expensive I would get it. I never
had to save money to get something. I would ask for it and wait till there was
money. So it really was shock when I got to Canada and had to
gradually make decisions on my own. I think I spent $200 during one supermarket
trip and all I had to show for it was a life size teddy bear. At sixteen I really wasn’t ready, but I had
stubbornly insisted to my mother that I was. Thank God I was blessed with a great homestay
family. They were such a much needed blessing but that is another story for
another time.
Late at night as I sit
and type this, One moment sticks out for me. I hadn’t seen my mother or any of my family
members for one whole year. As most students abroad , you get by with just
phone conversations, because sacrifices are being made daily for you to be
there, so you mustn’t be ungrateful. At
17 years old I had decided to apply for a UK visa on my own and messed up the
whole process, so I was unable to go see my mother for the holidays. I was very upset. But my mother did what she
does best, she fixed it. She applied for a Canadian visa and came to see me. I
was so overjoyed when she told me on the phone. It was late in the evening, I was speaking to
her on brand new silver cheap mobile phone, preparing for my first summer in
Edmonton, in a new apartment with my roommate. Completely, unready to be
living on my own, but some great life experiences and lessons ahead of me.
The day came to pick Mum up from the airport and show her
my ‘ grown up’ life in Canada. I made my
way to the airport and waited at 'arrivals'. Out she came through the door, trolley in front of her, she was already twisting her head from side to side eagerly looking for my familiar face among the small crowd. But something in
her appearance shocked me. For the first time, I realized my mother was getting
older. As we walked towards each other, I noticed more grey hairs than the last time I saw her, a slight hunch
in her back. I don't think I would have noticed these changes with having spent so much time apart. Yet my mother’s eyes were so concerned and fixed on me. She gave me a
big motherly hug. The kind you sink into and remember that you are taken care of. Then she procedded with her
motherly interrogations…. Where did I live? Was I eating? How was school?. When i look back I think that is when my change started, because although we
acted as though we always had, I had seen some human fragility in my mother. I recognized it was selfish to make her take on so much.
So our relationship shifted, ever so subtly, because my mum
was no longer invincible in my eyes. I let her continue to fix things. Even
when I was worried it was too much, I learnt that parents need to feel like
they can fix things for you. Though I have been trying to learn how to fix
things myself ever since. I have failed many times along the way learning my lessons as
they come. Since her death, l fix things for myself and I fix things for
others. But sometimes you just can’t fix
everything. Sometimes you have to let some people trudge through their own mess
and figure their own way out because if you fix it for them, they will walk
right back into the mess because they never acknowledged what got them there in
first place and they never had to figure their own way out.
So here I am late at night. I was about to sleep but can’t
sleep. I’m telling the many thoughts bouncing around in my head to stop. Stop
looking for a solution! We are not going to fix this. We always fix things. But
we are not helping because the situation does not improve. No more BandAid. We
have used the last one. This time we are
done fixing things.
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