Tag Archives: king yobho
“You’ve got such interrogative eyes.”
Interrogative eyes? Really? Was that the best pick-up line I could come up with? Maybe I just panicked, or I was being the overconfident douche I usually am when meeting new people. Who knows? All I know and care about right now is that her name is eternally scribed on my heart, and her radiant face will forever be engraved in my mind. All that matters is that she is my dream come true, and I love her.
Her name is Kareena Gool. As I’m writing this blog post I am hysterically laughing my ass off picturing the confused look you probably have on your faces right now. You never expected a tall-ass proudly Xhosa guy from the dusty streets of Zolani in Ashton to be confessing his undying love for a Cape Malay Muslim girl. But this is no standard Cape Malay girl; she amazes me each day as to how someone who’s as human as all of us can be so unique that not even God can look like her. I am terrible when it comes to saying what’s in my heart, so I thought I should write to her this love letter showing how I appreciate this unique being she is.
Gool. My love
You’re probably sitting down with a half-smile and furrowed brows scanning this love letter for bad grammar and misplaced commas. Well I don’t care if you find any. What I care about is that you’re as happy as you’ll ever be, because I can’t imagine my beard not having your hand to caress it. I don’t want to imagine not ever seeing your beautiful face again. You’re unbelievably beautiful. When God made you, he cursed for the first time. He turned to an angel on his right, gave him a high five and said “G*d damn I’m good!”
You are that beautiful. You’re a different kind of beautiful. You’re a different kind of woman altogether. You’re the kind of woman I wonder as to why she would bother looking into the mirror before leaving the house, because there is no way she could ever not be beautiful. The kind of woman who can be hated by so many for what she feels is right or loved by none for she never bothered to kiss ass. You gave me something I’ve never had before. You gave me that “my friends think I’m crazy” kind of love. That reckless kind of love. That “wake-up-early-make-you-breakfast” kind of love. That “no matter what happens you get the best of me” kind of love. That “you get my heart & mind, and the world gets the rest of me” kind of love. That “I invest in you” kind of love, because you know I’ll give you my “I’m invested in you” kind of love. That “you come to me upset you don’t have to say anything because I know just what to do” kind of love.
You kiss me so softly that I can no longer speak, and then suck my ex-girlfriend’s name out of my mouth just to make sure she never comes up in our conversations. You’re the one who made me realise that our interracial love needs not make sense to anyone but to God and the two of us. Because right now, I am because you are. We have been happily together for well over a year now and have had more fights than my parents, who (before my father passed) had been married for about 40 years. One of those fights I will never forget – it was about potato wedges at breakfast. Don’t you dare laugh! That was a serious argument, OK! But as much as we argue, as much as we express our love verbally or otherwise, on this Valentine’s Day of 2017 I am making you a promise. I promise that I will love you as if it’s the only thing that I’ve ever done correctly.
This is not the end of my love letter, for it is said true love has no end. We cannot declare that what we have is true love, but what we can is that our love is a “fuck the world we’re making it” kind of love.
To the rest of the world, this is her. The keeper of my smile, my soulmate, the love of my life, however the hell people describe the one’s they want to spend the rest of their lives with – but this is her.
‘Till Next Time Peeps, Bhabhayini!
It’s impossible to imagine civilization without the art of the gathering and transmitting of news, also know as journalism. I mean, your girlfriend, mom and sister gossip every passing second. Excuse the blatant chauvinism, just wanted to piss my girlfriend off there. But anyway, journalism is everywhere and in everyone. But what is Journalism anyway? Where does it originate from?
Origins Of Journalism
The origin of the word Journalism is “Journal” or “du jour” (just irritated myself there, there wasn’t a need for the French) which means day, where all the day’s news or the news contained in the printed sheet. Before doing my research on where Journalism originated, I just knew that in the very first sentence I will find the word Romans. Lo and behold, I was right! The history books always seem to credit the damn Romans with everything. But anyway, let me calm down and focus. Journalism comes from Acta Diurna (Daily Events), which appeared in the Roman era, where news and announcements affixed to or installed in the city center at a time when it was called the Forum Romanum. It was a daily papyrus newspaper. The Acta Diurna was distributed in locations in Rome and around the Baths. Its motto was “Publicize And Propagate.” Probably some low-grade papyrus was used for the daily publishing, no doubt one of the reasons that no scraps of the Acta Diurna have ever been found.
Journalism has rapidly evolved as the years, decades and centuries passed. The number of active journalists are growing by the second, whether qualified or not, a journalist exists in us all. There is a little journalistic bone in all of us. That bit of curiosity that pushes us into investigating the situation deeper so when reporting to an interested ear, it will feel as though they were part of or witnessing the happenings you witnessed. This is called citizen journalism. It’s also called “the threat to journalists.” It involves regular members of society providing stories, tip-offs, pictures and the like to newsrooms, which can then be published as news (but hopefully no one goes overboard in a Jake Gyllenhaal kind of way). But fellow journos, there is light at the end of this tunnel as there’s no need to worry, because the members of the public merely provide information-and not necessarily facts-which then enables journalists to further investigate the issue at hand. Citizens are also not taken to task when they provide false statements, meaning that reporters still need to verify the accuracy and newsworthiness of any information that they supply.
Mzansi media and citizen journalism have had quite a rocky relationship. South Africans generally love journalists and journalism, but don’t say that to Etv journalist Jody Jacobs and cameraman Linge Ndabambi who in 2011 were attacked by violent protesters in Ermelo. Citizen journalism has bridged the gap between journalists and their audience in varying communities. Citizen journalists are mandated by their respective communities to research the root causes of their biggest challenges, produce call to action films as a tool to get the community to stand together, find effective solutions and seek support to drive social change. So if you ask me if citizen journalism has a place in South African media, I say hell yeah it does! Real everyday stories from real everyday people is what needed for the betterment of our nation as this plays an enormous role in creating informative conversations and conversations of understanding between the people and the media. SA media should definitely care about citizen journalism.
P.S. To all journalists out there, I was kidding when I said citizen journalism is also known as “the threat to journalists”… Or was I? **evil grin**
‘Till Next Time Peeps, BHA-BHAYINI!
“If our two loves be one, or thou and I love so alike, that none do slacken, none can die.”
~ John Donne (Good Morrow)
The weird thing that life is keeps throwing us major curve balls – unexpectedly presenting us with challenges and disruptions that not only alter our moments, but our lifetimes. 2015 has been filled with curve balls that made an immense impact in the course of my life; this has been the best year of my existence, surpassing 2012 & 2002 (Yeah, I rate my years… I’m that weird). Recently I was part of the #FeesMustFall student protest that has been causing unrest across the country’s universities (I may not have been at the forefront, but my presence made a difference in the course of history). But this year, nothing makes me more prouder than being Best Man at my older brother’s wedding. Oh yeah, the wedding… Didn’t I tell you about that? Sit down mpintsh’ yam, coz it was the most memorable night in the Klaas Family’s history (and hopefully,the Bunu family as well).
I’ve delayed posting this, as the wedding was three weeks ago, because I was busy being kicked out of res by the university *furious*… But that’s a story for another day. This journey for these two beautiful souls began as a story of patience. Boy was this nigga (Khanyile, my big bro) patient… His pursuits for a relationship with Amanda (his wife) were turned down numerous times, and when she finally entrusted him with her precious heart, she turned down his many marriage proposals for four years. Amanda you made ubhut’ wam suffer hey… But it’s all good in the neighbourhood. (click here for their whole love story)
She’s been a rock for my family. She was part of our family long before she uttered those two heavenly words that are: “I do.” 2011 was one of the most difficult years for my family. My father was diagnosed with Leukemia, a type of cancer found in your blood and bone marrow. We had countless trips to the hospital, hefty hospital bills, and no decent pay cheque to speak of. Khanyile, as the eldest male in the family, had the responsibility of holding the family together and had to be the strongest. He was the trunk holding the branches of our family tree. But then if he was the trunk, she was the roots, the main source of his strength. Everytime he had to update us on our father’s deteriorating health, I could see he was moments from breaking, but Amanda was there to help him keep it together and wiped his tears behind closed doors. And when my father finally succumbed to the disease, we never crumbled. I owe it all to her strength. She never needed a ring nor a change of surname to make her part of the Klaas and Amayirha clan (but we glad she did though…lol)
“I’m not a smart man, but I know what love is.”
~ Forrest Gump
The step that followed from there on were moments I have already shared with you… the Lobola negotiations [check out MY FIRST LOBOLA EXPERIENCE and MY FIRST LOBOLA EXPERIENCE… PART 2]. Those were dope, and very successful… Hence we had the wedding. Duh!
Fast forward to the wedding. The wedding was to be on Saturday, October 31st, so I arrived home, in Ashton, two days earlier. Usually, long distance taxi rides are as comfortable as a colonoscopy, but this one, I must say, was very pleasant. The day before the wedding, the Rolihlahla Community hall was unrecognizable with the Top Billing décor that produced endless ooohhh’s & aaahhh’s. Family members flooded in from all corners of the earth (including uJolakazi a.k.a Debbie, my favourite cousin in the world whom I hadn’t seen in two years). But it dearly warmed my heart when two friends and classmates of mine, Akhona & Sethu, arrived to share this wonderful time in my family. I ran around like a headless chicken ’till the early hours of Saturday morning, while Xolani was left bullshitting Debbie to hysterical laughter and Akhona & Sethu took countless bedroom selfies. But we finally got about four hours of sleep.
The next morning we got dressed and looked like movie stars ready to party like rock stars. The day was just surreal to me. I couldn’t believe how good my family looked. I mean it was normal to see my mother, a.k.a the diva of the family, all dressed up, but uMakazi (my aunt) and my sister looked really amazing. With million dollar, balloons taped onto cars and wedding songs reverberating around the house, we were ready to be on our way to the N.G.K. Church in town, where the matrimonial ceremony was to be held. But first… a prayer. I’m not sure as to who was praying, but I so wished it was my father saying that last prayer in my brother’s bachelorhood.
We left to loud but sweet-sounding car hoots. “You’re getting married, bra!”, Xolani kept reminding my nervous brother during the car ride. We arrived; our family and friends took their seats. Then we, Abenathi & Olwethu, Xolani & I, then the groom walking with my uncle, entered to the sweet sounds of the soulful Nathi’s “Nomakanjani”. We had a long nervous wait, with the first few seconds of the wait seeing some tears streaming down my face. The Bunu family arrived and took their seats. Then, the two flower girls, Sihle &Thulisa (the maid of honor), Nandi (matron of honor), then the blushing bride bride with an elder family member, entered to the sounds of Jennifer Hudson’s “Give Myself”. You’d page a whole dictionary looking for an intense synonym for beautiful to describe her. The were long speeches by the pastor, but let’s skip to the vows… No eye in the church building was dry, as the groom pleaded with his bride to never forsake his mother, as she stuck with our father through thick and thin to make him the man he is today. An amusing moment occurred as the rings were being exchanged. “I don’t care even if you’re washing the car, Khanyile – I want to see this ring on your finger!”, Amanda demanded of the groom.
After the ceremony, the bride and groom left in style – being driven in a sleek 2015 Maseratti Ghibli (which I never got a chance to ride in *furious*). After taking some amazing pics, we made our way to the reception. We entered the hall to the jamming sound of Black Coffee’s “We Dance Again” and killed it with our own version of the “Nae-Nae” dance…lol… Later on, my best friend and classmate, Siphosethu Phikelela, wowed the guests with her enchanting IsiXhosa poetry. The food was stupendous, the company amazing, and the night unforgettable.
The following day was the traditional ceremony. The day was wet with rain, but no rain could dampen our families’ spirits. Presents were brought, the singing was loud, and sheep were slaughtered and turned into delectable mutton and lamb chops. The Bunu family brought their bride to us one last time with songs, but were blocked at the gate by the women of the Amayirha clan. Then the battle of traditional songs ensued. I, my cousin Debbie and my classmates (Akhona & Siphosethu) didn’t experience the traditional ceremony that much as we had to leave for Cape Town later that day.
What I have learnt is that, none of these families lost a son or a daughter to the other, they instead gained a son and the other a daughter. For the love these two families share has synchronized them into one entity. LOVE IS LIKE YOUR HEART, IT ONLY BEATS FOR ONE.
Here are the pictures of the day. A special thanks goes to the amazing talents of Laresa Pearlman, the photographer.
‘Till Next Time Peeps, BHABHAYINI!
Relax ladies and gentlemen! Before you all viciously attack me, hear a brother out… I know I can be a pervert at times (well, most of the time… okay, all the time. But that’s not the damn point, okay?). What I’m trying to say is, I’m not rallying for the legalization of prostitution for reasons of me freely going to Voortrekker Road to fork out cash for nooky. I’m just saying that there are greater crimes the police can focus on than arresting adults engaging in (consensual) sexual activity (for payment). South Africa has greater problems to resolve, like the ever-escalating unemployment rate, the substandard quality of education most black kids receive, and our ailing public health system (wait, did all this smart shit just come out of my brain? Damn! 🙂 )
Okay, back to the subject at hand. It is important to distinguish different kinds of markets in sexual services in order to determine the appropriate response. For example, markets in sexual services that involve children, fraud & deception, and non-consensual & exploitative sexual practices, are immoral and should be restricted. Terms often used are “human trafficking,” “sex trafficking,” or “sexual slavery” to describe such practices, and the service providers in these practices have the status of a victim or slave.
But there are markets in sexual services (brothels or escort agencies) that do not appear to involve forced sex, and in which the workers seem reasonably well compensated. Debates over prostitution often focus on the issue of whether is it possible for prostitutes to voluntary do this sort of occupation, or whether brothels are oppressive, harmful and forcing the individuals who participate.
Prostitutes are highly stigmatized for the work they do, and those who condemn this work believe that it is shameful and immoral, and has no place in a just world. Others believe it is a necessary evil, in that if men (mainly) could not satisfy their sexual urges through some form of sexual service, these urges would lead to unruly methods like rape. Many “sex workers” (I think I should use this word from now on, “prostitute” seems too vulgar) report that their clients have various reasons, but mainly to find relief from loneliness or to have uncomplicated sex. These sex workers believe that they are providing a valuable and morally legitimate service to their clients and, by earning a living doing valuable work, they are making a contribution to their societies. Before you ask how I know all this, I actually have met a sex worker before (& no, I wasn’t a client… or a pimp for that matter). In short, women (and men) who offer their labour in various types of sex trades believe that the stigma that is attached to them and their work is unfair and undeserved.
The appropriate response to human trafficking and slavery is abolition or termination. This approach criminalizes only the activities of the client and others who profit from sex trafficking, but not the provider of sexual services. Providers are treated as victims whom others exploit by tempting them (mostly by threats or blackmail) into sex trades. For brothels or escort agencies not involving forced sex, there are two standard approaches we should use: legalization and decriminalisation. The legalization approach tolerates sex markets and businesses, but restricts them in ways that are specific to this industry. Regulations may include compulsory STD testing or condom use, special licensing for businesses, government registration of sex workers (I know I’m kind of pushing it lol), and minimum age restrictions for providers and customers. The decriminalization approach removes criminal restrictions and treats sex businesses the same way as non-sex businesses.
Some sex workers are not forced by conditions to do what they do, some actually live lavishly and love and enjoy what they do, whether you think of it as morally right or not. South Africa is a liberal nation, is it not? So let them ladies free the nooky if they want to. Let’s legalize prostitution!
‘Till Next Time Peeps, BHA-BHAYINI!
25 years of life. I have been alive for a freakin’ quarter of a century. For as long as I can remember, my biggest fear hasn’t been heights, clowns, or dentists. My greatest fear has been getting old – and it’s finally coming true 😥 . But you can’t fight fate or evade nature. I haven’t a choice but to embrace the fact that I’m getting old.
But I look back at my life life with some sort of pride in the sort of man that I have turned or rather evolved into. There are many individuals, men and women (some I’ve never & probably will never meet), that have shaped and molded my life into what it is and what it can be. It’s no secret that my only goal in life is to remove the negative stigma around black men. Seeing as this is my 25th birthday, I’m writing about the 25 black men I look up to and intend to achieve success similar to theirs.
No. 25. JOMO SONO/KAIZER MOTAUNG :- These footballing legends have not only carved their names in stone with their mesmerizing footballing ability, but with their ability to successfully transform two township football clubs into well-respected and easily recognizable brands that expand beyond the football pitch. All this during South Africa’s most difficult time – apartheid.
No. 24. TYLER PERRY :- One of the most versatile actors/comedians. Growing up poor and sexually abused did not stop him from becoming one of the wealthiest film-makers in the world.
No. 23. NELSON MANDELA :- Need I explain why..? The name alone speaks deafening volumes.
No. 22. EARVIN “MAGIC” JOHNSON :- Talent accompanied by brains is an impenetrable shield against failure. Magic Johnson possessed this shield. He went from a magician in the basketball court to a magician in the boardroom. From playing for the LA Lakers, to owning the LA Lakers. After selling his Lakers shares, he now owns part of the LA Dodgers (MLB baseball team). He’s ballin’… in more ways than one.
No. 21. ARCHBISHOP DESMOND TUTU :- A man not afraid to speak his mind. He was at the forefront in rallying to have Mandela released during apartheid, and publicly admonished President Zuma for refusing The Dalai Lama enterance into South Africa. I hope to meet him some day.
No. 20. STEVE HARVEY :- An “Original King of Comedy”. He is a daytime talk-show host, has two radio talk-shows, has a New York Times best-selling book, and he has his own range of formal ties… HUSTLER!
No. 19. AKON :- Born in Senegal but grew up in America. After making millions from his successful music career, Akon didn’t forget where he came from, and built solar panels that will provide 600 million Africans (that’s half the continent) with electricity.
No. 18. DR. DRE :- The first rapper to make a billion dollars. All this began by him and his group rapping about the struggles of young black men in the ghetto. But what I admire most about him is that his greatness is defined by the number of rappers he made successful. 50 Cent, Eminem, The Game, Kendrick Lamar, & Snoop Dogg.
No. 17. MZILIKAZI WA AFRIKA :- A fearless freedom fighter and extraordinary investigative journalist who stood firm for what he believed was in the public interest. And also excelled in music. Author of “Nothing Left To Steal”. A superb wordsmith.
No. 16. HAILE SELASSIE :- Leader of Ethiopia and a great symbol of African independence against colonialism. An outstanding leader during World War II, resisting to the invasion of the Italians.
No. 15. KOFI ANNAN :- The first African to be named United Nations Secretary General (served tow terms). His skills of great patience and diplomacy are things I admire about him. Even after retiring from the UN, he is still a pursuer of peace and security with his non-profit organization “Kofi Annan Foundation.”
No. 14. JOHN SINGLETON/SPIKE LEE :- Probably the first movie directors to portray the true happenings of the ghetto in movies. Great film-makers who showed that everyone, from whatever background, has a story to tell.
No. 13. MICHAEL JACKSON :- A pioneer of music, dance and music videos. Michael Jackson has been relevant for the past 50 years with his music. Though he may have died heavily in debt, his relevance for half a century is a feat that I don’t think will ever be achieved again.
No. 12. OLIVER TAMBO :- He led the fight against apartheid outside the South African borders while in exile. The educated millions outside South Africa about apartheid and influenced them to fight for what’s just, right & moral.
No. 11. TIGER WOODS :- A black man who broke boundaries with his brilliance in a sport dominated by whites. Though controversy followed him, he was man enough to admit his mistakes and apologize for them. Then made an incredible comeback to the top of the world golf rankings. His perseverance is thought-provoking.
No. 10. PELE :- Coming from deep poverty to being regarded as the greatest and finest footballer of all time. He had the utmost dedication and love for football. He’s now an advocate for overcoming poverty.
No. 9. AGGREY KLAASTE :- Successfully pushed the “nation building” concept as the editor of Sowetan during the struggle years. The first black South African journalist to achieve legendary status.
No. 8. CHINUA ACHEBE :- The best-selling, greatest and widely read African novelist, poet and writer. I want to achieve similar status as this legendary writer. He has great praise that is borderline godly.
No. 7. JOHN KANI :- A brilliant stage actor and playwright. He has received countless international accolades and appeared in many international productions. He even has a theatre named after him. Not forgetting his incredible wisdom.
No. 6. BOB MARLEY :- He showed it was okay to be different. He put Rastafarianism on the map. He was also a social commentator for the emancipation of black people from slave mentality.
No. 5. NKOSI JOHNSON :- He may have died at aged 11, but he was more of a man than most men in today’s world. Probably the first relevant HIV/AIDS activist. Made billions around the world understand what AIDS truly is.
No. 4. THABO MBEKI :- Mandela’s chosen successor. He personified the word intelligence. A true believer in African Renaissance and quiet diplomacy. One of the very few dignified African leaders.
No. 3. MOHAMMED ALI :- The only boxer to ever defeat his opponents before setting a foot in the ring. He showed all you need to conquer your enemies is to defeat their minds.
No. 2. JOHNNY KLAAS (My Father) :- A man that would rather starve than see his child have nothing to eat. A man who’d rather go shirtless that see his child wear rags. The kindest man I’ve known. Also a man I’ve never seen back down from a fight. I smile with pride everytime I hear someone say “You look exactly like your dad.”
No. 1. KHANYILE KLAAS (My Brother) :- From ward councilor (driving a Mazda 3), to being unemployed (& no car), to then being the deputy mayor (& driving a Mercedes Benz). He proves that once you fall from great heights, get up and climb to greater heights than before… And HUSTLE NIGGA HUSTLE!
I plan to emulate these great black gentleman and hope to inspire the same sort of greatness in others like they have inspired me. Laziness is the hindrance of potential, and complacency the hindrance of an intelligent mind. So I plan to never waste my potential and never be complacent and rest on my laurels should I achieve my desired goals. I suggest you follow my lead.
‘Till Next Time Peeps, BHA-BHAYINI!