DIARIES OF A TENANT

BEING a tenant can surely guarantees you some memories, stories that you will live to tell, to your friends or kids someday.

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IT’S DIFFICULT BEING A MAN!

I don’t know how others see it but I have come to the conclusion that it is hard being a man these days.

A lot of things are blamed on men. Not saying they are saints but the level of blame at times is unfair to say the least.

Women bleaching their skin is blamed on men. Women having hip and butt enlarging drugs and it goes bad, it’s all blamed on men.

You hear talk that this is because of men who want women with thick hips and big bums.

Who said that? Or who spoke on behalf of all men?

Tears on women’s cheeks, it’s all blamed on men. Very few bother to check the other side of things but quick to apportion the blame.

What about the other side? Do you know at times women are behind the suffering, tears and unhappiness of other women?

Your tears maybe because of that aunt who told you ‘give him what he is looking for outside’ and the next thing you are bleaching just because you saw him staring at a yellow bone.

Your friends have encouraged you to genetically enhance your bum just to compete on the market. You try it and it goes bad. You don’t blame your friends and together with them, you blame men, accusing them of not looking at your rather flat behind.

Show me one person who was dumped for not being a yellow bone or dumped because she has a flat behind.

People have different preferences, some men do not prefer women with thick behinds and go for those flat ones, rather slander.

Have you asked yourself?

Why did he settle for you instead of that yellow bone or that fat behind girl next door? Looking or staring does not mean interest. If you see him looking at that, give him room to tel you why he was looking at that.

This is my thinking on some things that men find themselves being accused of.

Like I said, men are not saints. There are a lot of vices they can be accused of perpetrating against women.

We talk of rape. Nothing justifies one to commit rape. There is no excuse for that, never.

TO BE CONTINUED!!!!

Twitter @blessmasakadza

Facebook: Blessing Masakadza

TALES AT A LABOUR WARD. . .

Tears, cries, laughter and joy all under one roof!

To my right, lies a woman wriggling in pain, tear down her cheeks. Next to her is an equally distraught man, with his head in his palm.

It is clear something is not right with them. They have been robbed!

To my left is young woman, with smiles all over her face. A group of people are around her bed, all passing congratulatory messages.

Those to my right cry more when they see those to the left smiling, hugging and ululating.

For a moment, I thought of going there but what was I going to say? I decided to mind my own business.

I walked past them, down the corridor and in front of me is another lady lying on the floor, naked.

This is not the kind of floor for one to be lying naked, I said to myself.

I stopped for a while before two women dressed in blue covered her.

As I passed by, there is another woman seated on a bench. Her mind is and body are in two different worlds. She was looking at the direction I was coming from but her eyes and mind were literally on something else. I don’t what.

This is a labour ward at one of the biggest referral hospitals in the capital. A place of mixed reactions and emotions.

Some are celebrating new born baby while others are mourning. Others are watching this and don’t know what to expect.

Nine months she had carried a child only to lose it at the last minute.

The look on the mothers alone is enough to gauge the level of pain that tears just flow down.

Here was I, on the other side, trying to console a sister in law for losing her baby.

Doctors said she has had a pregnancy complication that her life was also on the line.

Fortunately, her life was secured, unfortunately she had carried something in vain.

As much as we were in sorrow, ours was not a unique case.

Several families had suffered the same fate. All we could do was just look at each other and just nod, which was a subtle way to say we are sorry for your loss.

For a moment I thought of asking the nurses if they can separate the mothers. Those celebrating and those who have lost theirs. At least the pain and stress will be better.

Here I am, seated on a rusty bench in the early labour ward with my granny.

I got to hear several stories. Some women have had to prematurely give birth by inducement, life threatening experiences.

What got me worried is the number of stories of women having complications, resulting in miscarriages.

One of the nurses I got close to said on Friday, the day my sister in law was admitted, four other women had been admitted on similar issues.

On Saturday, by 10am three more women had been admitted on similar cases not sure how many more got admitted by end of day.

The women are in their early 20s, 20-25 years.

What is happening to our women? What is causing the high rates of complications?

This visit was the second time for me this year, for a similar problem again with a woman in her early 20s.

During that time, I had a chat with my grandma and she had similar questions to the ones I had.

“What is happening to today’s mothers?” She asked.

“Back in the days, such cases were next to none. We would give birth at home. Now three of my grandchildren have had to be operated to deliver, the other two have had miscarriages, complications. Is it the food you are eating? What is going on?” she asked, while shaking her head.

Whatever it is, the pain is unbearable. The young mothers are visibly shaken and traumatized and no amount of words can comfort them.

Seeing the other women holding their new born babies adds the pain.

All we can do is to ask God for quick healing of the wounds.