freshly sharpened pencils...

i am one of those fortune people from the Motherland who is blessed with a full zulu name which inadvertantly poses problems to people when it comes to pronouncing it. even people from parts of zimbabwe can't say it without flinching. as for vanilla folks... well, it gets really butchered.

i've had a whole lot of nicknames since i was able to speak. it seemed like a nice substitute to those would wanted to call me. i used to be the skinny kid with the big head. one can only imagine what nicknames would crop up to denigrate my physical appearance. then when i acquired a pair of specs the names coul only get worse. however there is one that stuck and it has stuck for a good sixteen years. in fact all through high school it was used to refer to me as i have a popular surname. i quite liked this nickname. it did increase my self esteem and gave everyone a sense that i was intelluctual. maybe i am. you decide. it got so bad that my initial changed from "M" to "P". in my old school circles i am still referred to by that very nickname.

when i started my new short life in england. i decided to lose that image and off went that name. i reverted to my first name. after all it is a novelty over the seas, especially with the complex consonant structure. how many words this side of the planet do you get with "mhl" - then try pronounce it. i've tried my best to educate them but i must admit most have been unwilling to learn. most have just cut it down to just "M" - with a handsome measure of mystique attached to it.

fascinatingly enough, i now work with a great bunch of people who have now invented some very interesting names for me. one is Diablo - after the car and not the devil! the other two which i kinda hope will stick are Goolie and Gools. they make sound goofy but a part of me likes them. it's as though i'm started a new chapter in my life and with new leaves turned new names are learned. my name keeps on revolving, so what's your name?

summer has it that there will always be celebrations. last weekend i attended a lovely wedding with beautiful reception at the leicester tigers rugby ground. despite the fact that it was raining, the whole affair was superb. full sit down three course meal followed by even more after dinner snacks during the reception. it was also a nice cultural mix - west indian, english... all joyful and happy. i didn't actually have an invite but my good friend who i was staying with sweet talked my way in and i posed as a friend who had just landed from the states and couldn't be let deserted at home.

then yesterday i attended sipho and kudzi's wedding somewhere in the midlands. manje this one was a home grown affair, pure pure ndebele-style complete with inyama enengi. we love our meat to the core. it was grand. the dance moves. i hadn't forgotten cabbage exists. lengquzu futhi sihlabel' ugwayimana. and then bus stop and cha cha afterwards. probably the most emotional bit was a dance off they had for married couples with pairs being eliminated by the number of years they had been married. the last standing two had been married for 25 years. they were then joined by the newly weds. very beautifully done.

as tired and bhabhalazed as i am i have to move today. there's also been drama in that end as our supposed new landlord pulled out at 4pm on friday emini leaving to scrounge around on saturday for an immediate move-in. thenkfully something pulled through and removals are in progress. i'm looking forward to my new canvas of a room to personalise and make my own for the course of this coming year.

it's almost the middle of the month and i ask myself where all these days have gone. in no time i'll be back e-klasini cracking those nombolos. i'm looking forward to it all.

while others have been galavanting over the seas, i spent my weekend in the midlands lo-OJ. okuGomez kuseStates, my Mam'dala flew back ekhaya on friday, my Sibale follows kusasa and uMama's coming to vakatsh' for a while in three weeks. i last saw umama last year!! damn!! i'm itching real bad to see her, to hug her, to qabuza her and say, "uSharp Masalu!"

for the record, i'm a mama's boy through and through. i'm allowed. i'm her first born. i'm her only son. i fuza-ed her smile and we can chat for hours on end, me tuning her my gwans and her the same. she listens. she listens because uyangithanda unconditionally. she has a certain strong compassion about her always selfless putting others' needs before her own. she's always willing to sacrifice but you'll never here her complain. she's a mother... my mother. the woman who carried me for nine months, went through hours of labour for my sorry black ass. i miss her so much and i love her to bits. damn... three weeks is too far!!