Saturday, 14 November 2015

Extract from Give love a chance-in pursuit of justice copyright Constance Mutale 2015 page 122 &124

I recall how one judged me, as being too ‘self-loving’…but hey wait that is how one would perceive their lot. I was not self-loving per-say, but assertive and calling it as it was. I stood tall to tall with them; my own clique hated me for that; because they had decided in the majority to take the subordinate role. I was having none of that; we had something in common and so let’s do it.
I found myself laughing and joking with the opposite race as I would on a neutral ground, I found it a neutral ground.
I knew Halgfna was suspicious of who I was and where I got such guts which she decided to call strength, perhaps I had been indoctrinated from a young age that ‘for we are all made in the imagine and likeness of God.’, He made all and not just some, as He made some white coloured cows, he made some colourful, some brown and some black and white. Breeding, am not a farmer, and all I know is that each farmer is proud of its herd.
I was not trying to have the best of both worlds, I was trying to make the best of my life and exploring what was nice and befitting to me.
My love, we clicked, we loved, we were similar, I was perhaps stronger than he was, he too was stronger perhaps than I was. We laughed, we shared, we loved, we trusted, we were united and it was the outside world that saw a wrong; that saw me as an outsider and how my knowledge of them would perhaps weaken them, he was a traitor perhaps and he would come out as having acted at a moment of weakness. He could have gone on deceiving them that he was one of them, when in fact he too like my friend, saw beauty, comfort and was at home with ‘black’.
Without sounding racist, for me, I was lamenting our love,
‘Romeo; Romeo why must I die?’
It was a clear manifestation of Romeo and Juliet only in this case the characters were white and black, were by Romeos and Juliet’s case it was a case of the family feud between the ‘Montagues’ and the ‘Capulets’ that dated many years back. Was he going to ‘die’ for this special thing that we had that I called love? Was I going to die for this thing that I felt so passionately about?
If he rediscovers his identity would I be left to a lonely feeling and wondering?
Where art my Romeo, where art though?!
‘I love you.’ I said openly, I did not need to seek his approval as like a fool I had fallen heads over heels, with his maturity, his venerability, and his openness.
‘I love you.’ I whispered in the dark of night. He knew that that was my weakness and he was not going to put his heart on the line, he was in love but he would guard what he did with this love. His love would hurt and disappoint other people. He would be judged as weak, to be in love with a race that they had looked down upon. How did it work? Just how did it work? Was love just love, just love all the way?” She put the pen down and took a bite on the croissant and took a sip from her cup of café latté.

*        *        *
Most people were involved in debate in their schools, and one of the topics that were debated would be ‘what is better a boarding school or a day school’. Opposing sides had to give their view on the theme. Perhaps if White and Black had been a problem they would have debated it. But what was better indeed, they all were schools with an objective of educating the learner and hoping to empower them to earn a living thereafter, so it was with race, the body being an object that contained life, so what was better one life in a particular skin colour as opposed to the same life in a different colour as white sugar is to brown? Since people shared birth dates across the race, hundred babies across the world would be born at the exact same time, second and date and year, so what would be the difference between those lives?



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