I buried the last one who was here, who sounded like you, in my backyard. He didn’t stand a chance. I punished him for not being absent. He dismantled me. And, the deep unconditional love I never reciprocated is embedded in me as lifetime guilt.

“It’s a lie; I know it’s a lie! He can’t die, he is too kind hearted to leave, too young to ascend to heaven, and he hasn’t even started pursuing his dreams. No! It’s a lie!” as I yell frantically to no one in particular.

Weave tranquility into an epic of MaNthatisi / herding armies of wild cats / through victories in far lands. The healing of Mantsopa: my intertwist, She remedied war with rain, So I criss-cross water into our tale.

Infidelity is a team effort and we have each other’s backs as women. "So wuwe lo owenza umngani wethu happy?" a friend will ask a guy, even if she knows that you are boyfriend number four. We will call you mkhwenyana for five years knowing full well that our friend is still waiting for Mr Right. Whatever that is…