Just Yolanda Zondo

Even though he annoyed her, she remembers him all too well. When the door opens, the wind blows in with the memory of his smile. She always wonders though, why is it that even after all the bad that he did, she remembers all the good things as though they were happening right now?  All the times he bought her flowers, she wished so much she could keep them forever, more especially the first one he got for her. It was a yellow sunflower in a blue plastic bag, smelling all muddy as though it was stolen from someone’s yard. It was funny and cute, but also the beginning of something great and she felt it. She remembers lying beside him on their first day alone together, no words needed to be said; but there was this feeling of passion surrounding them, and she knew she was meant to be there. Nevertheless, she wishes that she did not remember it all too well. There is nothing sadder in life than lingering on to something that can never be again. All it creates is pain. You ...

I have chosen to lift myself out of this pain and shame of this world. The ancient pain and shame that has taught me that being black is ugly, bad and wrong. I have chosen to look at myself in the mirror and appreciate and love my blackness. By doing so, I have also tried to help others to appreciate their own blackness. However, I have realized I cannot change every black person by myself therefore, I am asking for your help. God, my black people are very angry, and this anger which comes from many years of pain by this world; has led us to view each other as enemies.  We kill each other, steal from each other; and the one that I detest the most, we envy each other. I cannot seem to understand why as black people, we can never be happy for each other. It seems to be easy for us to condone corruptness and taking the easy route. But in all this, we can never stand side by side and honestly help each other. We will watch from afar as another race takes charge and helps our o...