A Random Ramble
Um… where do I begin? Okay, let’s start from the top…
Rumour has it, I was supposed to be a Virgo but I had other plans. I’m a proud Leo (tautology maybe). I crawled, according to Gog’ Zwane I crawled backward, for a long time then one day, I just stood and walked. So much for a premature baby that couldn’t properly stand huh?
Guess my early childhood was a premonition for the life ahead.
PTSD at age 6, schizophrenia at age 12; misdiagnosed all my life, I was a rare mixture of athlete and nerd. It wasn’t until therapy for temper management I manifested the gift I had.
I can write.
Writing down my feelings became an outlet, a solace. I was reading books just for the sake of reading. Plus, because of my troubles at school, I was in detention a lot of the times, the time I spent in the library increased and my reading of books also catapulted. I was just taking in words, learning techniques I couldn’t name and then, trying them out with what was my emulation of what I learned. Really horrid short stories and more importantly, the verses I wrote at the back of high school textbooks.
Fast forward to dropping out of varsity. The family was unhappy. I began writing my feelings down again. My frustrations. My fears. My dreams. Now equipped with a soundtrack I discovered in high school; TKZee were my idols, Biggie was my lecturer, Pac was a mentor, Nas was my guidance counselor, Pharoahe Monch was a therapist and Lupe Fiasco was a friend. Hip hop became the perfect savior for me.
Even when my career choice was not my foremost choice, I worked hard to prove to myself that I’m not useless or worthless. I kept a notebook at the time as well, would write down thoughts and feelings on my wake up at 4 am be at the bus station at 4:35am to catch the bus for a two hour trip to an internship that was bittersweet because it gave me the money to buy hip hop CDs but it was highly underpaying me.
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2011 everything changed.
TKZee were my idols, Biggie was my lecturer, Pac was a mentor, Nas was my guidance counselor, Pharoahe Monch was a therapist and Lupe Fiasco was a friend. Hip hop became the perfect savior for me.
My journal was now online. I discarded my journal for the Notes app on my iPhone. The writing took a different, direct direction in delving into the deep and not so deep & sometimes delightful as sometimes also the despicable world of hip hop. My imperfect savior.
The more I wrote the more I find myself in limbo with this perfect slash imperfect culture I love as much as I loathe. It intrigues me and inexplicably irritates me. It fascinates me and infuriates me. It’s a mirror of my life.
I started sending articles to established magazines and got turned down. Until CHEKA Digital.
My repertoire for CHEKA is a Mangosuthu Buthelezi speech, it’s a drawn-out history-making mouthpiece for itself. If you know, you know.
My inability to stand came back again. I crawled backward as I suffered my most excruciating depressive episode. I was without a pen for a year and a half. I was without an integral piece of my soul for a long time. I didn’t know how to write and the one thing I kept thinking of writing was a suicide note.
I stood up and started walking. Baby steps. I got assistance. My friends walked with me. My family, as turmoil-filled as our relationship is, encouraged me to walk again.
CHEKA Digital is no more. I will forever owe my life to it. Today, I walk in a different direction.
I present to you, Rap Rambles.
