Newsletter

Dearest Friends, 

What does community mean to you??

This month marks 44 years of Zimbabwean Independence. A day where we acknowledge and celebrate the liberation of the motherland from colonial rule of the British. Growing up in London, I often felt stuck in the middle of my two identities. I was a south - londoner running in my Clark shoes, sneaking Fish and Chips in my gob after school and then a traditional Zulu girl making Isitshwala for her grandparents at home. These two worlds clashed at times and were in harmony at others. 

I have memories of eating home cooked food made by my mother at school and being bullied by my classmates about the smell. They laughed at me and ate their ham sandwiches while they made me eat next to the door, near the bin. Being from the African Diaspora in the 2000’s wasn’t something you would be proud of saying loudly. You would either lie and say you were Jamaican or had a ‘close’ family in America. The only images of black people you saw on TV were the Desmonds on BBC, My Wife and Kids on cable or an African baby malnourished swatting flies off their swollen belly. At university, a close friend of mine asked if my family in zimbabwe lived in a mud hut. I laughed, trying to avoid her feeling shame. If the situation were to happen now, I would hold her accountable for making such an ignorant remark. I think back to young Siphiwe and wish I could reassure her at that moment. To scream loudly on how beautiful her heritage is. The western media painted my country to be primitive and deprived, when in fact, it’s a land overflowing with rich culture and a beautiful landscape….. 

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