Stay with me by Ayobami Adebayo

I read this book in one sitting and at the end of it, I just felt it was too much to take in all at once. A whole lot of possible human tragedy to process in a few hours. The book is about a woman (Arinola) who is led to believe that she is unable to have children when it is actually her husband (Akin) who is not able to. She then has to go through a series of humiliating experiences including having the grooms family choose another wife for him (Funmi), deception and eventually having that wife live with them. 

OWNERSHIP

One of the themes that comes up repeatedly is the idea of ownership, something I've found a lot of people feel is concomitant to relationships. Arinola keeps saying that a husband can have many wives but a child can only have one mother. She is driven by a need to have someone to call her own and goes through a lot of hurt to satisfy this need or desire. Once again, this idea of unclenching instead of holding to someone or something for dear life resurfaces; where we've seen through our experiences that when we let something that was meant for us in the first place go, then it will come back to us. Arinola learns this the hard way through the birth of her third child who is called Rotima which translates to 'stay with me', who she loses but finds again fifteen years later and who now goes by the name Timi. The author creatively reiterates this idea through names that a child can not be compelled to ownership even if she is given the name Rotima, ironically, it is only when the child sheds that name where she finds her way to her mother again. A person can not be owned, and as hard as it is for parents to accept, neither can a child. This is due to the fact that everyone has their own consciousness and it is that consciousness that separates us as individual human beings. 

A poem from The Dream in the Next Body by Gabeba Baderoon:

How to find something lost

Let the lost thing, or the loss itself call to you

There is a reciprocity in vanished objects

That make them want to rejoin you

Long after you stop searching,

Lost chances, lost causes, lost loves

Circle back

GRIEF

Arinola goes through pseudocyesis (phantom pregnancy) because of her desperation to bear a child. When I was reading the parts of the book that described her pseudocyesis, I couldn't help but think how her experience shows all the five steps of grief  (Kubler-Ross); denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance. Grief has in my mind always followed a loss, but there Arinola was, grieving something she never had. 

LOVE

'It's the truth- stretched but still true. Besides, what would be left of love without truth stretched beyond it's limits, without those better versions of ourselves that we present as the only one that exist?'

This was not something unique to Akin who did not present his true self to Arinola, of him not being able to have children, in the first place suffered greatly for the decision and had to then resort to going to extremes to maintain the inaccurate presentation of himself. This inaccurate presentation is soon exposed and he loses the love of his life in turn. As well meaning as Akin was, he paid tenfold for his deception. I was watching a series where this woman goes on a date and the guy just reveals way too much on the first date. The woman complains to a friend and says something about how a guy must at least wait until date 4 to reveal so much about himself. I found this scene hilarious and 'date 4' has become an inside joke with friends. As much as it is important to not scare people off the first time you meet them, it is also crucial that if that relationship forms then everything that could affect your beloved be disclosed. 

Love is explored in such great detail in the book and in the early chapters of the book, the author writes about how there are things that love cannot bear; that it can break into a thousand pieces under certain loads but even when it is a thousand pieces at your feet, it doesn't mean it ceases to be love. People on the average crave wholeness and many people look for that wholeness in love, but what is interesting is that the wholeness desired can very well come from something which of itself is not whole. 

'I was not stupid. I understood that it was a matter of time before Moomi showed up to make sure that Funmi started living in the house. If I fought with Funmi, it would only make things worse. Moomi could ask me to leave and though Akin kept telling me how much he loved me. I no longer believed him. But I wanted to believe him. I had no father, no mother and no sibling. Akin was the only person in the world who would really notice if I went missing. These days I tell myself that is why I stretched to accommodate every new level of indignity, so that I could have someone who would look for me if I went missing.'

I lament, all the indignities women have had to endure; in the name of love. I lament!

Kasi Love

But how will I find you?

Where did we have our first kiss?

Under the mistletoe of the township, the Apollo light at the corner

What was I doing when our eyes met for the first time?

You were competing with your friends, throwing rocks at the Apollo behind my house trying to break the plastic casing

How did you know it was time for you to go back into the house?

My mom said to be in when the Apollo came on

You see, you already know how to find me

When I first saw it, I knew it was his doing

Chuck Taylors swinging from their laces at the top of the Apollo lights

I followed the stars to find him

ALL the STARS

The Punctuation of Ending Love

When love ends it doesn't have to be, 

the exclamation marks of pregnant silences, broken photo frames, tears and 'all your crap is in the box at the door', to the left

the parenthesis of 'its not you, its me'

the question mark of 'what on earth just happened?'

the ellipses of runners who left the door open with none of the closure

the ampersand of I&J needing to undo and separate

When love ends, it can just simply be a period at the end of the story

Full stop. 

The Knock on the Door by Terry Shakinovsky and Sharon Cort

This book is about the Detainee's Parents Support Committee which was headed by Max and Audrey Coleman whose sons were detained by the apartheid government. It was a committee that helped to support families who went through the trauma of being woken up in the dead of night by the knock on the door and having a family member taken by the police. In a system where people were detained without trial or charge for that matter, were interrogated and tortured, where the families were not even informed where their family member was taken and where black families in particular did not have access to legal representation or knowledge; this committee fulfilled a huge role. The committee made sure that information travelled from families to detainees and also provided basic necessities to detainees such as clothing and food and support. 

The reason why I liked this book in particular was that I was learning so much that I have had little knowledge of in general and it is always necessary to fill in the gaps in our minds because it is in the details where we are reminded of our past as South Africans and it is the details that reinforce how to not easily forget what happened before 94.

Max was said to be quite particular about documenting everything and that information was used during the Truth and Reconciliation Commission that took place after 94 which was really cool for me. As much as I think the TRC had its limitations, the fact that Max had the foresight to keep record was really great and provided the TRC a lot of the information it needed.

THE WAR ON CHILDREN

This chapter was the most interesting to me. Tomorrow, South Africa will be commemorating June 16, 1976 with a public holiday. This book went deep into just how badly black children were treated during apartheid. I mean, most of us are familiar with how thousands of children were massacred but there is a lot of information that I personally did not know which further widened my eyes.

'I don't think anywhere in the world has there been such a vicious, assertive action against youth and children as there was in South Africa'

The number of children that were detained is just shocking. The entire student body of Hlingwe School (1200) was arrested. I mean, wow! The youngest child who was detained was 9 years old and the book provides details on how, for example, a child walking to the shops was just picked up by the police just like that without the parents being informed.

'What does the world think of a government a third of whose political detainees are schoolchildren? and just how does an 11 year old threaten the security of the state, particularly this state with all its military might? This government, in releasing these children, is starting to admit it has no answers to such questions.' 

OPERATION PHAMBANE & AN EMERGENCY AWARD

Operation Phambane also offered a lot of insight pertaining the longest hunger strike in this country. The hunger strike was called Sidla Ekhaya meaning we eat at home which was a strike against detention without trial. It took place at Diepkloof prison and one of the detainees, Sandile Thusi, went 38 days without eating and left the prison bedridden and on oxygen. 

Black people, particularly those who got hurt during a protest, were not able to go to the hospital because the police would wait for the wounded there and then proceed to arrest them. Black people who were in need of medical care had to find other ways of getting it and the chapter called an emergency ward details how the DPSC worked around those restrictions and how a handful of skilled medical professionals placed themselves at risk to give black people the medical attention they needed. 

ASSASSINATIONS

South Africa's death squad is something most of us know quite a bit about and we also know anyone active in anti-apartheid activity would likely be gunned down in their driveway. David Webster suffered the same fate but I think what just highlighted the egregiousness of his murder was the fact that he was told in advance that he would be killed, in no uncertain terms, at a tea party (gathering) by a police officer; a week later he was dead. 

PRAVIN GORDHAN

When Pravin Gordhan was arrested for the third time of which he said that his detention was part of a winning advantage and having leverage over the ANC in the negotiating process. This reminded me of a poem from Azanian Love Song by Don Mattera. The poem is called Shattering Glass but I am only including the part of the poem that is relevant particularly to what Pravin said.

'Don't bargain with oppression

There's no time, man

Just no more time

for the black man

to fool around'

When I look at what South Africa is now and think of what Pravin said, I wonder what price was paid for bargaining with oppression. 

ON THE SIDE

Casspirs aka Hippos are these mine resistant army vehicles (right) that were used in South Africa in apartheid South Africa. One can imagine the fear these instilled in black people back then and also what their presence implied about black people; that black people were the enemy of the state and should be dealt with militantly. 'Geen genade' type vibes. This is nothing new as black people were referred to as 'terroriste'. Interestingly for me, a few years ago South African malls were being hit by criminals and the response was for one or two of these to be placed in Malls. So as I saw these, I wondered what other South Africans who saw them thought. I can grasp how this vehicle would not mean anything to white South Africans but how could it not send chills down the back of black South Africans who survived apartheid? I mean, how could those vehicles not illicit the same feelings that brought down the Rhodes statue? Why would a black government even use these as a scare tactic for a mall syndicate, Why not a bunch of GTI's with blinding blue lights which would be the most appropriate for the crime? I mean, really. 

Generosity

There is something about me that cannot look genuine generosity in the eye

That looks down to it's hands as it keeps tally when the giver has already forgotten the gift they gave me

There is something about me that will already be thinking of what to do for the giver to show my appreciation when the giver only reckoned on seeing my face light up and smile

There is something about me that expects an 'I have come to collect' or the giver to snatch back his gift when we've had a disagreement

And yet

It never comes

To the people who only bargained on my happiness,

who did not keep count,

whose generosity has exceeded my means, 

Thank you

Detonation

Detonation is when you completely open yourself to someone and you become vulnerable to them but you move beyond vulnerability and you actually become exposed to them. One day when everything is going wrong and you are so tired and have no fight left in you, he literally turns all your insecurities, fears and regrets into ammunition. When he strings a twenty word sentence that is your undoing, and he drops each word like a bomb and then he proceeds to detonate you with the coup de grace of merciless cruelty and unkindness that  only he can deal and that you know that you will never come back from as a couple and which will take you years to heal from.

I can see how detonation can be appealing to some people; that when you leave, the other person should be at their weakest and their broken. I can see the appeal in being able to have the power to take someone's self esteem with you. I can see how that can be better for your own self esteem to  be able to turn a whole human being to rubble under your feet. I can also see how that can be the easiest way to go. 

I was reading Upile Chisala's Nectar and she says that we should always leave people if not the way we found them but better than how we found them, not less. This is something that rarely happens but how different for the both of you that the last word spoken between the two of you is one of kindness. 

'Be tender when you love,
Remember where the wounds are
What the line is
Which words burn
And if you leave
Leave your lover as soft as
You found them
If not
Softer'

Becoming Iman by Iman Rappetti

What a candidly written book! WOW! She is so honest and so real and was courageous enough to write on the things that many of us would not even think of sharing with anyone let alone the world. This was a very human story full of contradictions, growth, mind-changing etc. all the things that make us relate on a human level. 

HAIR

Without going into the ever-so-trite natural vs. straightened hair debate, I mention it because hair came up a lot in the book. Iman is coloured and she has what she calls 'kroes' hair that has to be chemically straightened. Iman goes through a whole journey with her hair from growing up with the 6 weekly relax routine, to her shaving it all off in Iran so that she would not be distracted with vanity and she could focus all her attention on learning about God and truth. She takes off her scarf in a group of Iranian women and all jaws hit the floor and all the women are shocked that she really had shaved her 'glory' off. She reminded me how much identity can be found on top of women's heads. I've always found hair so encumbering, so time consuming and also rather painful. I remember when I was younger, my mother would unplait, wash, plait my hair every single Saturday the year had to offer and while I was flinching and squirming and making pan-frying-eggs sounds, in the back of my mind I was thinking about how I would rather be outside playing. That has not gone away. My big issue with hair is that sometimes women serve their hair rather than the other way around. While I'm completely open to people's preferences regarding hair and that it plays a huge aesthetic  and perhaps spiritual role, what I cannot wrap my head around is how people will refrain from doing the things they enjoy doing because of their hair. When I first joined the gymnasium, I would spend a large part of my time worrying about my hair because I would sweat a lot and my relaxed hair would riot. I then decided that either I would stop exercising or change my hair; I changed my hair. I know a lot of friends who quite enjoy the pool and you can see they lus to just baptise themselves fully in that water but  they always curb their enthusiasm because of their hair. Adornment should never stand in the way of you doing the things you enjoy doing or you being able to fully express yourself. 

Iman makes this joke about the fact that chemical hair straightener is called Relaxer. She asks what are the manufacturing companies saying about our natural hair, that its uptight? When I was younger there was a kwaito song that went along the same grain. 'Relax, bopha iphondo'. While our naturally straight- haired counterparts are told to let loose by unburdening their heads of the up-do and the scrunchie, we are told that in our natural state we are just in a state of tension. 

RELIGION

'Intense can't describe what we were like as young people. When the search for truth or perspectives leaves the airy space of open debate and becomes claustrophobically restrictive and prescriptive, when it becomes intellectually violent or traumatising, when it ceases being a beautiful opening of a treasure trove of new ideas but the agent of repression, one must stop and consider.'

'We must pay attention to the frontiers of our ignorance' Sam Harris

I have been at that place where you start thinking about your religion or looking around you at the all the things being done in the name of your religion and thinking to yourself, 'nope'. Or looking at some of the stuff written in the texts of your religion and thinking 'nope'. Colonialism, apartheid, sexism, patriarchy, racism, classism, homophobia, xenophobia, surveillance, repression, exclusion, othering, war etc.  have had some scriptural backing and this has bothered me for the longest time. I came to the realisation that 'because the Bible says so' was just not good enough a reason for me and I realised I would have to delve deeper and redefine what it means for me to be a Christian. I had to start back at basics, at the foundation of my faith which has led me to a place where I know I can live and thrive in it and my faith is endurable, inclusive, airy and everyone being equal under it, regardless how different they are from me. 

CLINGWRAP SEX

Tears welled up in my eyes when I read this chapter which is about a man whose wife has to ask him to go down on her which he does with such reluctance that he places clingwrap between his mouth and her. It was a tough chapter to read but once again it highlights a realm of human experience where women are punished for wanting to experience it, sexual pleasure, I mean 'how dare women ask for reciprocity?' The tri-factor rears its ugly heads. Shame. Guilt. Humiliation. When women try to exercise their sexual agency, these are the things that they will have to face and its just so traumatising that this human experience which is supposed to be yummy, intimate, adding to, is filled with such caustic ugliness. 

In another chapter, Iman speaks about her experience when she decided to wear additional head covering in Iran which only showed her eyes. She expected to just become invisible in the streets of Iran but instead drew in more attention.

'When we make the obvious unreachable and untouchable, when we exoticise the normal, such societies become wired to make that which is off limits even more coveted and desirable, and fetishes the generally commonplace.'

Besides the fact that the burden always falls on women, that they should not entice men, when all this women with her likes and dislikes is reduced to a mere sexual organ. There is also the fact that women continuously walk the prude/loose tightrope and not only that, but that it is entirely their fault- whatever attention they get is their fault and their fault alone, whatever name they are called is their fault and their fault alone and whatever is done to them is their fault and their fault alone. 

I want to close this blog with a line from Iman which was so poignant for me. She said:

'Reality is a holy place' of which I completely agree with.