Pursuit To Happiness

I've got love for my uncle's kids, they are like my siblings, they have a respect for me in return and that's exactly what sustains our relationships. They are helpful too, thoughtful too, and they are good people generally. None of them is a thief, none of them lies, none of them is defiant, none of them is a social menace and indulges in alcohol, weed and cigarettes, hence good people. There's absolutely no reason not to cohabit with them, they are very decent compliant and honest individuals.  However, kids are kids. The oldest is 18, the next is 16, the next is 13 and the last is 10 years old. They all have small minds and dreamy eyes, just exactly what children ought to be. With that they still exhibit a roaring potential to be independent and successful adults. On school holidays the two older brothers are able to generate their income through landscaping and gardening piece jobs to which they are well versed and I think they should specialize. The thirteen year o...

Like any average gent I've had a fair share of girls in my life. Not too much and not too little, my boys can attest to the fact that I was really a good boy; no threesomes no catching no perverted moves no rosters and no scandals, I kept my slate neat always and continue to, I just don't like funnies, and, now that I think of it, there's nothing like too little, one experience is good enough actually! Some okes only encounter one girl who favors them and they never look back, they marry them and life goes on, so one is fairly good enough.  With all that said, following my decent but countless experiences with the girlies from a childhood sweetheart to my high school crush to my first love to flings to bites and to close calls, amongst these is a unique experience which really rocked my days for a minute! I call her She-shells.  It was in July of 2016, I was just a youngster going through teenage things, a dysphoria and loneliness. My boys took me out to groove one time whe...

Growing up is quite an interesting phenomenon if of course we look at the brighter side of things, otherwise it does really feel like a scam. It is intriguing how the mind develops and changes with whatever tide of perspectives, hearings and experiences divulged to it. What you thought before, or, what you were stigmatized to before can instantaneously change and be radicalized with a piece of rational information, if not instantaneously then manifestantaneously (look, I've just created a new word). I wrote an article just recently on  Chivhanhu , where I acknowledged and respected semi-traditional semi-prophetic/Christian blended practices by a chunk of Zimbabwean people. I furthermore slandered such people's socio-economic styles which render them impaired/negligent to and inconsiderate of medical and legal systems, road and infrastructural developments, industrialization, science and technology, design and architecture, and all things which shape the landscape and al...

A Pastor during what I recall to have been a Family Life Ministries sermon preached about the importance of and establishing a family. In his preaching he said the most profound thing which has since floated in my conscious and really put the icing on his sermon. I like when a sermon isn't solely based off the Bible but is also harmonized with real matters of life as we deal with life routines actively. The Pastor said and I will paraphrase "The real test and rubber stamp of growth, maturity and manhood is when you move out of your parent's house, out of family coffers, into your own shack, on your own cheque, marry from there and build/establish from there.. " - Ps Nkanyezi.                          Image Source : Tarie I have been intermittently putting little thought to this as it is such a difficult statement to digest. Actually, I have been avoiding putting much thought to it as it sounds stressful...

Movies seem to be just composed visual scenes we watch and have a day's talk about and then forget about like a dream, especially those that remain without sequels. Unlike songs with re-play value, movies are rather too long to re-watch, especially with the continuous production of new ones. Sometimes I fear that the world will some day run out of hardware space, terabytes are becoming a very miniscule space, but that's just my absurd thinking.  Nonetheless, there are movies which quite appeal to the interests, concerns and meanings of people in ways which precisely or closely reflect their lives or clarify their misunderstandings or provoke their thoughts or denote and stroke their actual desires,  causing them to re-play the movies. I'd like to believe such appeals to movies, which entice re-playing, come to a small proportion of people who actually possess profound tastes to things or are prone to find depth in things. But, without that profound trait to people getting i...

The Daily Mail, a British online newspaper, recently released an article stating and quite statistically ranking Zimbabwe as the leading nation in their 'world misery index'. I had a chuckle at this because if there's anything the British are incredibly enthusiastic at, it is denying accountability on their atrocities and formulating metrics and philosophies which disparage Africans to push and inflate their sagging supremacist narratives. It is ridiculous if not at all bewitched behavior because, rationally, the impoverished state which they deem Zimbabwe of was deliberately designed by and is a consequence of Britain's 1979 Lanchester Conference and Henry Kissinger's strategic ambiguity plan. The British are like the bully that changed his ways but still throws dirt in your face.  Nonetheless, with all of this absurdity, we ought to acknowledge some truth to it even off of a bad mouth. Zimbabwe is indeed poverty stricken and this causation isn't entirely roote...

Classism is a thing I was born exposed to. My maternal grandmother worked as a maid for a white family in Orange Groove, Johannesburg, we lived in servant quarters but my experience regardless was suburban. The quiet and serene places, the lawns and pavements, the blue pools and fishponds, the surrounding trees, the double storeys and double garages; I grew up exposed to those settings. My father enrolled me to a private creche, we spoke English like our white counterparts at early childhood, siesta was an important session for brain development, we were forced to sleep, Africans don't force their toddlers to sleep through the day, it's important, it must be done, but that's not what I'm on about now. My father furthermore built a home in the Zimbabwean suburbs and sent me to a private primary school. So classism is a thing which has prevailed in my life and has influenced my preferences, perceptions, interests, the way I talk and carry myself, something that has set me...