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Showing posts from February, 2014

A Paedophile, a Paraplegic and a Gay walk into a bar…

I didn’t want to go here. But I can't sit back in silence for one more moment. Thirteen months ago, if you had been at a dinner party and Oscar Pistorius was seated at the same table as you, even if you were, as I am, a completely un-athletic person, you would have been enthralled. South African Wunderkind, Icon of the London Summer Olympics of ’12, fastest man on no legs. Now, if you were sitting with him anywhere, you would only hope that it’s not in a courtroom on trial for murder, or in jail. There was a time, not so long ago, that people of colour were not allowed on benches, beaches, roads and buses with whites. And not only in ‘racist’ South Africa was this the case. Blacks and coloureds were seen as inferior to whites. In some countries, they were slaves. In other countries, indigenous people were hunted like animals. There was a time, also not so long ago, when women were banned from certain buildings, institutions and privileges. They needed to wear certain clothes t

I'm Not So Strong, You Know?

This may be a bit of an emotional purge, but forgive me, for what other use is the personal blog if not this purpose? I know better than to over-react to something I see on Facebook. People post things on there without even considering the ramifications thereof – the far-reaching consequences of one little insensitive/misguided/offensive snippet. I, too, have been the offender in these instances in the past. So if this post turns out to be written for you about something I’ve said in either the virtual or physical realm, let me start off by apologising. No one deserves to get their feelings hurt by a friend. It happens sometimes, mostly (I hope) accidentally, but still, it’s never nice. If I was that guilty friend, I really am sorry. Because it sucks when it happens. Today I was thinking of a person who has been a friend for the better part of two decades. She has never hurt me. I don’t remember us ever having a serious argument about anything. There has never been a period of ‘si

Try Not Having Kids

There’s a choice among women that is often hushed up but made none the less. It’s a choice that is about as scandalous and taboo as the pro-life debate and the working mother deliberation. It’s the choice, not by nature or biology, but by CHOICE to not have children. TIME magazine published an article last August entitled, “Childfree adults are not ‘selfish’” and reading it, as well as the subsequent and unavoidable media storm that followed, I came to the realisation that: only those with children can truly understand the decision to remain childfree. Please don’t get me wrong here, my kids mean the world to me, even after a sleepless night and a particularly difficult morning (probably not unrelated.) But I wanted kids. I always wanted a herd of them. I'm talking about those who choose not to have them at all. Perhaps it’s re-reading We Need to Talk About Kevin by Lionel Shriver that got this mental conversation going in the first place. The narrator, Eva, never wanted child