Claustrophobia

November 2, 2015November 2, 2015 16 Comments

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “1984.”
You’re locked in a room with your greatest fear. Describe what’s in the room.

I’m locked in a room with my greatest fear. Well, that in itself would be one of my greatest fears. Being locked in a room alone. Or stuck in an elevator. Or in a bathroom with a door handle that’s failed, and windows with bars over them. Or locked in a room with the dead body of your partner.
A few weeks back I read a heartwrenching article on the genocide happening to South African farmers. On one farm an elderly couple and their visitor were attacked. They were ordered to open their walk-in safe. The wife was shot dead in the back of the head, and all three were locked in the safe, including the body of the murdered wife. The visitor and husband were rescued the following morning when someone stopped by and heard their cries.
Imagine being locked in a dark safe, no windows or water, and with your partner’s dead body? Someone you’ve spent your life with, and created children and memories together. Is there anything on earth that could be worse than that?

http://m.news24.com/news24/SouthAfrica/News/Man-held-after-farmer-locked-in-safe-with-dead-wife-20150920

Halloween Haunting

November 1, 2015November 1, 2015Vonita 3 Comments

To really, truly
Scare me, gullible mum, would
Be easy to do
All a young life would
Have to do is jump out of
A magic pumpkin
Looking like some kind
Of ghoul or scary looking
Skeleton and that
Would be enough for
Old scared mum to jump right out
Of her wrinkled skin!

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/trick-or-trick/

Just the Beginning

October 30, 2015October 30, 2015 4 Comments

Sleeping outside the entrance

Pure Africa

Before the Rain

Aaah, bliss

A very thin me, albeit with no style

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Comedy of Errors (and bonus assignment!).”

My honeymoon was a comedy of errors. A cyclone hit the tropical island on the night before we were supposed to arrive for honeymoon, so after a two day no-flight delay we decided to change plans. We booked at an African Safari Lodge, but in between changing plans and re-arranging schedules, we arrived too late. We slept outside the gates. (See blue car above). Once inside, I developed an allergy to the anti-malaria tablets and ended up being ill. On one of the days we decided to go to the beach. It was through the local country and we were in an open-air vehicle. Of course it would start pouring down with rain so we got soaked. Not that you would see the storm with the blue skies in the photo. But just like that the clouds appeared and it poured down! We had booked at two lodges, and when we arrived at the second lodge which was a forest getaway type-thing, we were presented with two single beds with mosquito nets over both. There was a very romantic outside bath in the brochure, but it was covered in leaves and brown water ran from the taps. It was a honeymoon I might never forget!
It must be said though the first lodge was decadently luxurious (actually the service and dining was great at both), a taste of Africa that was pure heaven! So all’s well that ends well. Well, as well as can be I guess!

Dungarees

October 24, 2015October 24, 2015 17 Comments

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Out of Your Reach.”

I went shopping with my daughter the other day. I was looking for some dresses for her. She saw a pair of dungarees and asked me straight away, please can I get these? My immediate reaction was no, I’m not here to buy those, I’m looking for dresses. Another time. As we walked away, she said to me quietly, I’ve asked before and you always say another time, but there is never another time. It stopped me in my tracks. I thought to myself good point. I decided to change my mind and said to her okay, let’s go back. I bought them for her, and she wears them now all the time! And they look so cute on her! I told her on the way back, she really twisted my arm, but I suppose that’s what mothers are for. I don’t have a mother whose arm I can twist, so good for her!

Safe Havens

October 16, 2015 20 Comments

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “A True Saint.”

I used to volunteer at a centre for mothers and their children, and the women were the most amazing, strong, resilient women. Upon arrival they would have nothing, and slowly they would rebuild their lives so they could have their own home, support themselves and their dependants, and be free from the constant fear of abuse. But the first step was the decision to leave. And where to go if no family was nearby that could be counted on for support?

So as my wish list, I would be the patron saint of women and children shelters that are accessible everywhere. Because domestic violence doesn’t discriminate. I am guessing many women continue in situations of violence and abuse because they have nowhere else to go. I would call these shelters ‘Safe Havens’.

My School

October 15, 2015October 15, 2015 6 Comments

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “The New School.”

Everyone should be able to read and write so I would keep that in the syllabus.
Arithmetic was my favorite so that can stay. And now for the fun part where I make the decisions!

Typing lessons. For a humble one year course I did in the year I was fifteen, it has turned out to be the one most practical skill I use everyday. Let’s be honest, not many kids are going to sit and type ASDF for fun, so throw it into the syllabus.

Musical instrument. Every kid should be able to leave school being able to read music and play at least one instrument. Even if it is just a humble recorder. Make some music, people!

Second language. Should be taught from day one!

Sport. Get those bodies moving, learn how to hit a ball, swim in the pool and bend bodies over backward.

Budgeting. Oh yes. This is a big one. Teach them kids what happens when debt grows to more than income. Going out exceeds coming in? Yeah, problems.

Respecting others including women. Hot topic for me. Boys will grow up to be physically stronger than women. Fact. If my husband wanted to pin me down he could. Boys need to be taught how to treat women when they are older. And no guarantees they are taught it at home.

Cooking and nutrition. We all need to eat. So let them boil some rice, and learn what sugar does to their bodies. All those nutrition guides on the back or sides of boxes? They need to know how to read them. What does it mean when sugar is the main ingredient? What does it mean when artificial colors and sweeteners are added. What the heck is a guava or pomegranate? No, a watermelon is not a giant cucumber, you get the idea.

Conservation. We have been given a planet to live on. Let us learn and teach the next generation how to look after it. Recycle. Don’t toss plastic bags into the sea, where turtles swallow them and choke to death. We all live on the planet. We all need to look after it, inasmuch as we can.

Sugar

October 9, 2015October 9, 2015 19 Comments

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Wicked Witch.”

Sugar. Sugar is the wicked witch. In its seductive, alluring way, promising happiness forever. But it’s pleasures are for a moment, leaving desires and cravings for more. And all the while it has its destructive way on its unsuspecting victim. Hooking, reeling in, for just one more taste of its sensual beauty, leaving memories of its taste lingering forever. Never to be forgotten.

Woe my sweet tooth. Be gone from me!

Sugarman

October 8, 2015 4 Comments

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Papa Loves Mambo.”

Like many South African families, Rodriguez was a fixture in our home. My dad would slap on the music along with eggs and toast on Sunday mornings and we’d all get to hear his favorites, never forgetting the Stones and his all time hero Rod Stewart. My dad had a huge collection of records, he collected them like I collected books. And of course there was always the mystery of how Rodriguez died for there was no record of it, he just vanished off the face of the Earth. In the absence of hard cold fact, many theories did indeed abound. For any readers who have not seen Searching for Sugarman, it is an amazing documentary! A must-see!

Our Apartment

October 7, 2015October 7, 2015 9 Comments

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Our House.”

The first place I can remember living in was an apartment by the name of Ivanhoe. I was four or less, for I was four in the photo at my sister’s fifth birthday party and that was taken in the house we lived in next. I remember my mother in her bedroom with a window looking out to the main road, and my sister and I were going on an aeroplane to my grandparents in Cape Town. We were to fly attended only by the airline staff and my parents were going to drive down a short while later. My father was still enlisted for compulsory military camps so every few months he had to leave and go for a camp. I remember my sister and I playing in our bedroom one evening when he returned. For some reason I can remember playing with a toy iron the night he came back. Why I remember this I have no idea!