Life Hits Hards!

If there's anything my father did best, it was making me feel important, relevant and secure. I believe all parents naturally behave a certain way which transpires feelings of importance to their infants, it is an important parental role which builds a child's esteem, confidence,  self-belief and personality. Growing up I was outspoken and outgoing, fearless as a lion the world would not stop me! I believed just by one phone call my Pops would destroy anyone who got in my way. My father lead a dramatic demonstration at the UK embassy, he gathered Africans with mutual problems & concerns in this regard and held a wide placard which I forgot the inscription but the protest was in line with the embassy refusing me Visa entry into the UK to unite with my family; Such behaviour would make even an elderly person feel important and relevant in this world. When my Pops discovered that I was being maltreated at a relative's home, with immediate effect he plucked me out and I've never set foot there again. There are many incredible things my Pops did which made me feel like a Prince and rightfully so! He wasn't meek or slow about me, I was always a matter of urgency. 

Fast forward to today, I am a 25 year old man whose life didn't go anywhere nigh to plan. I am supposed to be finishing my Masters Degree in Mechanical Engineering in Wales, England but I am in Zimbabwe today selling bananas and transporting people's things on a bicycle from town to communities as a Courier Service. I chose this, to be self sufficient and to get the drift of life. I didn't perform well in school, I dropped out and chose to sell bananas on a scorch-cart in the city streets, it's all by my choice and I am not griping about it as it was the best moving forward decision I made.

However, when I ventured into buying and selling I could ignore jaundice like the eyes ignore the nose. I knew it was there but I saw far beyond the nose and ignored it. However with time, being 4 years in, it is all beginning to get to me. I can feel myself and my fibers get consumed in the structure of the life I temporarily chose, it wasn't my plan to delve so deep into a life of adversity that it's affecting my weight, frame and general image. Sometimes I remember that my father built a beautiful home in the suburbs, a huge cottage and a great main house, and think why don't I just take a break from all of this and reevaluate my life and choose a different path because it didn't have to get to this. I think about this a lot but because I have become so invested and involved with my current life and why I even began I continue to strive regardless. The thing is when you are a vendor people look down on you, I can't quite explain it but you can feel it. Amongst many signs, your opinions cease to matter, they become miscellaneous suggestions than considerables, what do you know? So you begin to feel irrelevant and unimportant, and, eventually you will stop talking, it's like life humbles you down to earth proper ekse. 

Paint Job done on Courier Bike.

I bought an old bicycle in the yesteryear July of 2022 for banana deliveries, I now multitask it sidelining with Courier Services. This bike is unlike the bike I wear cycling gear, shades and a helmet for, looking fancy and going out on leisure rides with friends, uh-ah. This bike is actually associated with poverty as many old men commute on it. In Africa if you commute on a bicycle it means you don't have a car and if you don't have a car you are poor, hence the stigma hinged on my Courier Bike. So, like selling bananas on a scorch-cart, I get a mutual and further disrespect riding this bike, or rather demoralizing hints. Although the disrespect doesn't outweigh the commendations as I customized it quite neatly and ride it pretty fast, it still gets to me as though it were the only social response I get for riding this bike, I realised I am thoroughly sensitized disrespect even in small portions. I can't tell you how many times I've been missed by cars who expected me to give way when I had right of way, or how many times I have been honked to the roadside so cars could pass, yet the Highway Code notes that "Motorists ought to practice caution when approaching cyclists, that you don't overtake unless it is safe to do so, giving clearance to the cyclist" and that cyclists have right of road usage. Just yesterday a minibus missed me, a guy from another minibus said "what are you even doing on the road", that statement sounds very mean in Ndebele, it's just wit and jeer, to mock you, but it angered me. These experiences, amongst others, wipe the childhood feeling of importance and relevance, suddenly you feel alone and unseen in the world, it affects your self image and self esteem, and nobody is coming to save you; I understand why youths lay back at home you know, the word is such a brutal place. I have been in a lot of road rage scenarios being an avid cyclist myself, but, although I am always right, it never fails to entice feelings of misery. Shouting, frowning and swearing, that energy is not empowering it's destructive especially to my peace. I was telling my cycling buddy Shantel why I am learning to let road-fouls go because they place me out of character and out of synergy with the predominating peaceful and polite essence of me. You will feel yourself being in bad taste always and it's such an ugly feeling. So, I am practicing virtue, letting go, although my throttle is still sensitive, everytime a motorist cuts me or turns without indicating I feel myself immediately going off. Emotional instability is a bad thing, letting people control your emotions is disempowering. 

I think with time, the things you do or your way of life starts to show on your face and in your being even when you're not pushing a scorch-cart or riding an old bike. It's just an assumption as I am not sure yet if it is so or it's rather how I am perceiving the world now that I am sensitized to bare minimum treatments. Sometimes I get my hair cut, my hairline mint and rock my coolest fit and not feel cool still. I am so consumed in the events of my life which have become a reality, it has affected my approach to things. You know when I started selling in the streets it wasn't because the world had fallen on my shoulders, I had flunked my O'levels and I was compelled to seek ways of getting around this life so I can later be in an eligible and capable position to marry, to build a house and to send my children to school, but I wasn't lacking. However now, I sell because I don't have a dollar, I cycle into the city because I would rather so I can save a buck. Already I have ridden 900km this year alone, it's $1USD to board to town and back which is 16km, divide that into 900km and that's how much I could've spent on transport alone in 28 days. The life I thought I was getting ahead of by facing austerity prematurely now has become an active reality, preferring to commute on a bike to save money is not an ideal lifestyle. I can no longer take a break and I am now more under pressure than I was when I started at the age of 21. The years have gone by and I am realizing I have been on a marry-go-round without anything to show. I haven't gone a step further anymore than I have been merely consumed. When I was 21 I thought by 25 I would have the grits, but I am still striving to get better to feel better to earn better. 

Life hits hard.