Womanhood

Silhouette of a mother lifting her child at a sunset beach, capturing warmth and love.

BE GENTLE WITH YOURSELF MAMA

Yes, it’s been a while since I wrote something on this platform but something happened recently that really broke my heart.

My daughter is signed to an agency for adverts and the like and we recently attended a casting call for her to do an audition for an ad; she was so positive and excited on our way to the venue.

When we arrived, there were already a long line of young girls preparing for the audition. We signed the forms and sat down in the waiting room.

Then I noticed another young girl come in the waiting room; she had done her audition and she left with her mom. She was a beautiful girl, with long black curls and neatly dressed. I immediately saw my daughter’s face change. And then all of a sudden, she said to me “I don’t want to do the audition anymore” I asked her why and she just shook her head. Gently I insisted she tell me why she didn’t want to do it anymore and her words broke my heart.

“I don’t feel pretty

Taking a step back and holding back my tears, I knew she had compared herself to the girl we saw a few minutes ago. I leaned forward and tried to encourage her; telling her she’s beautiful and she should do the audition and go in there with a positive attitude.

I’m not sure if it worked but she did the audition. When we were done; she told she didn’t want the role and then as we walked out; she told me how some of the other girls were not talking to her as they sat and waited and how she felt like an outsider being ignored. My child cried and I had to work really hard not to cry too and be her mother.

My heart was so hurt though; not only because she felt ignored by the other girls but because she is only 11 years old and already, she is struggling with self-esteem issues; feeling insecure and comparing herself to other girls.

She’s going through things that I don’t think little girls should be experiencing.

I spoke to her afterwards and tried my best to encourage her not to compare herself to others, that each girl is different and that we all come from different backgrounds. I wanted her to know that she is a beautiful, beautiful girl, inside and out.

Then I took a moment and realised; she must have picked up that insecurity from me. I am that person that compares myself and I struggle with insecurity; as I think most of us do; man or woman. She must have heard me a few times speak ill of myself or say something that indicated that I am not good enough for something and my mama heart is sore that she’s adopted that same thinking.

There’s nothing I want more for my children than being the best version of themselves. I want them to believe in who God created them to be; I want them to experience all the best in life and I want them to love who they are.

I’ve learned and I keep learning that our children do not do what we say. They do what we do. They may even start speaking the same as we do. The culture we create in our homes as parents has a direct impact on who our children become.

But I want to speak to moms especially; we are women before we are mothers and I’d like to gently encourage us to be kinder to ourselves as women. Our kids are watching us; whether they’re boys or girls; they are watching how we speak about ourselves, how we carry ourselves; how we deal with difficult situations and they learn from us through it all.

Be kind to yourself.

Be gentle with yourself.

You are fearfully and wonderfully made.

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WHAT OF A WOMAN

What was it about my belly swelling with new life,

that made you take life from me?

What was it about my love for my child

that made you want to erase her from the world?

What was it about the song in the trees that

made you want to hang me from their branches?

What was it about the sway in my hips

that made you think you own me?

What was it about the tremor in my voice when I said ‘no’

that made you hear ‘yes’

What was it about the joy in my laughter or the curve in my smile,

that made you beat me into silence?

What was it about my soft hair and silky skin,

that made you want to drive a knife through my chest?

What was it about the power in my bosom,

that made you hunt me like prey?

What was it about me as a woman,

that made you feel like less of a man?

Tell me, what was it?

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REDEFINING ACCESS AND OPPORTUNITY: UNLOCK THE GATES, AND IF NOT, WE ARE WILLING TO CLIMB OVER THEM

Opinion piece by Dr Kim Lamont-Mbawuli

In every profession, there are women who possess remarkable skill, intelligence, and ambition, yet
find the gates to success bolted shut. Despite being competent and capable, they encounter invisible
barriers that hold them back. For women of colour, these gates can be even heavier, guarded not
only by systemic bias but, painfully, sometimes by those who look just like them.
Across sectors, from research and development to academia, from law to business development and
commercialisation, the pattern persists. The ideology of being “the only one” or “the first one” has
too often confined women to solitary pedestals, rather than empowering them to illuminate the
path for others. The notion that there can only be one woman at the top, that success must remain
exclusive, has bred a culture of quiet competition. It has sown the seeds of the so-called queen bee
syndrome, the belief that to be exceptional, one must ensure no one else rises alongside them.
This mindset is more than harmful, it is corrosive. It pits women against each other, feeding a false
narrative that the “cake” of opportunity is too small to share. Yet, talent and brilliance are not finite
resources. Every time a capable woman is excluded, an entire profession loses potential innovation,
creativity, and progress.


For women of colour with a rich tapestry of skills spanning multiple disciplines, the experience of being locked out by those who once faced the same obstacles is especially disheartening. Too many,
have reached for the ladder of opportunity only to see it pulled away just as their first foot step finds its place. The message is often silent but clear: there is room for only one of us here.
But that message must change.
Because one day, the person standing outside that locked gate could be someone’s daughter, sister,
or mentee, someone who deserves not just a fair chance, but an open door. The feeling of exclusion may differ in circumstance, but its pain is universal. And to those who choose to hold the gate closed, let it be known, if you do not open it, we will climb over it.
In this day and age, there is no room for gatekeeping. Recognition should not depend on who you know, but on what you contribute. Let the quality of work, the strength of ideas, and the integrity of
one’s efforts speak louder than connections or others likes or dislikes, at first sight.
To those who have had the ladder pulled up before they could take their first step, know this: there are others watching your perseverance and resilience. They see you rise despite the odds, transforming hardship into strength. Among your colleagues and communities, there are women and men who recognise your potential and will stand beside you as you redefine success. They may not always announce themselves, but they exist, and they are allies in your journey.

To the women of colour who have faced systemic bias, remember that your resilience lights the way
for those who follow. To the academics who battle jealousy and isolation, rise above individualism,
your role is to shape minds and inspire futures. To those in business development and
commercialisation, understand that the storm of exclusion is rooted in fear, but authenticity,
confidence, and curiosity can never be suppressed.

And to those within the legal profession, open the gates wide. The law should be a pillar of justice
and fairness, not a fortress of exclusion. When we make room for diverse voices at the table, we
strengthen the very foundation upon which justice stands.
Impact is not always loud or grand, sometimes it begins in the quiet act of inclusion, in the moment
one woman holds the door open for another.
To every professional in a gated field, your duty is not to preserve exclusivity, but to extend access.
The bar is not meant to be raised beyond reach, but to encourage others to climb higher.
So, unlock the gates. And if you refuse to, know this, the next generation will not wait for your
permission. They will jump over.

Dr Kim Lamont-Mbawuli

REDEFINING ACCESS AND OPPORTUNITY: UNLOCK THE GATES, AND IF NOT, WE ARE WILLING TO CLIMB OVER THEM Read More »

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ALLOW ME TO BE A WOMAN

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TO THE MEN WHO MADE ME CRY

I’m writing to you with a broken heart and bloodshot eyes

You had many reasons to justify why I was wrong and maybe you were right;

I’m too emotional, I’m too needy, I overthink too much, I’m just too much…

You were all different but somehow your reasons were all the same.

It made me wonder and maybe even believe that I was the problem.

I sit in a dark, cold room; my eyes soaked with tears, typing this out in the hopes that all the feelings I might still have for any of you will leave my heart and only live on in this letter.

I loved you, all of you.

In different ways but somehow still the same

I loved you to the point where I was willing to change who I was and who I am just so that you could be more comfortable.

I told myself to speak less or make sure I said the right things so that you could compliment me on my intellect or on the way I spoke. Maybe if I sounded smarter, you would take me more seriously.

Don’t cry so much, pretend to be tough and not so emotional. Don’t show him it bothers you ” I would say

Don’t be so needy;

don’t touch him unless he touches you first,

don’t kiss him if he doesn’t initiate,

and don’t hold his hand in public, you know he doesn’t like it.

Don’t show him it bothers you.

Dress nice, for him.

Show some skin.

Show less skin.

Be sexy.

Be coy.

Listen when he speaks.

Take his advice on everything,

He is smarter than you are anyway.

Be less.

Make yourself smaller.

And on and on it would go.

You all made me cry and none of you gave it a second thought.

You took a bit of my essence, piece by piece;

you filled yourself up with me;

moaning and groaning in my ear when all I wanted to hear was

I love you.

I see you.

I will cry it all out here in this dark room,

In the hopes that when I wake in the morning I will be cured of my stupidity and naivety.

You hurt me. All of you.

And yet, I still reached out

While you continued to throw rocks at me.

You continue to make me shed tears to the point that my eyes are flooded and I can no longer see the screen in front of me.

I thought I had no more tears left to cry but my own heart lied to me.

I am hoping that this will be the last.

I will not do this again.

Hurt myself,

Over

And over

And over

Again.

How do so many different men have the unique ability to make one person feel so undeserving of love?

How do you become part of such a brotherhood?

You speak to me with such contempt.

You wear your arrogance like a badge.

It is not in my nature to hold grudges,

I have forgiven you all long ago but I can’t help but wonder;

Were my lips so bitter pressed against yours that you can now no longer say a kind word to me?

Was I such a horrific sight in your eyes that you can now no longer look at me without disgust?

Was the love I shared with you so terrible that the memory of me in your life now detests you?

What was so appalling about me

that you had to treat me like yesterday’s trash?

To the men who made me cry,

I sincerely do not wish you ill; I pray peace over you but I also thank you;

because now I can tell the difference between real love and

what you made me believe was love.

And it is certainly not the same thing.

TO THE MEN WHO MADE ME CRY Read More »

Her beauty

HER BEAUTY

Her eyes shine like diamonds,
even when filled with tears.
Her smile rivals the sun,
even when upside down.
Her voice blends in with the birds in the
morning, even when it cracks.
Her walk turns everyone’s heads,
even when her energy is low.
Her hands provide the softest of touches,
even when they are trembling.
Her aura is full of love and positivity,
even when surrounded by hate.
Her personality is always bubbly,
even when the room has gone flat.
Her love is similar to the comfort of the softest pillow,
even when sharp and deadly.
Her mind is as powerful as a computer,
even when it breaks down.
Her soul speaks louder than her words,
even when it is hidden.
Her heart is caring and loving,
even when it is broken.
Her heart is sensitive and vulnerable,
even when it is locked behind barriers.

She is beautiful,
even when she doesn’t truly see it.
.

HER BEAUTY Read More »

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SWEET GIRL

Sweet girl,

You will have your heart broken.

It is unavoidable. It is part of life.

It will feel like your world collapses and you cannot stop it.

It will feel as if the sun disappeared and the stars vanished.

Everything will lose its colour, and food will no longer be appetizing.

Music will be your only comfort, and melancholy will blanket you.

You will feel pain so palpable that you never thought possible. 

You will cry rivers of sadness that will be unstoppable, breaking against the tides of your childhood dreams.

I look at your sweet face and dread the day it happens.

But,

I also welcome that day.

Because that will be your day of recognition, and it will be the day you are tested.

Your willpower and resilience will show, and you will discover your strength. 

You will learn to rebuild all you have lost and what has been taken from you.

My darling,

Your first heartbreak will be the first day of the rest of your life.

Do not be afraid, my love.

Be brave and be strong.

And always forgive.

Not just them,

But yourself.

I am writing you this to prepare you, but the truth is no preparation could ever make you ready for the day it happens.

When it does happen, mourn for what you lost,

But come back and try again.

For love is a beautiful experience,

And deserves a second chance,

And a third,

And a fourth.

Do not fear love.

Please do not shy away from it.

Do not curse love.

Do not take advantage of love.

And always remember;

To guard your heart, for everything you do flows from it.

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THIS WOMAN

Yesterday I met a woman.

This woman was me in many ways, except for the reasons she wasn’t.

She was a woman who had to survive many painful obstacles; prostitution, abandonment, unemployment, living on the streets, and many other social ills.

Our struggles differ, but our desire to overcome them is the same. 

I saw something in her: a stranger I have never met before and will probably never meet again.

I saw a fighting spirit.

Things I thought I had lost in myself, but her yellow-stained eyes reflected it when I looked at her.

This woman stood before me with joy, a smile, and hope in her heart.

Like many others, she had to sacrifice a part of herself to get through life and reach this point, where she stood in front of me with a smile so broad I couldn’t help but smile too.

She speaks about the life she used to live without shame and her life now with pride. She embraces every challenge she has endured to get to where she is today.

We don’t share the same skin colour or the same mother tongue. 

We don’t have the same economic standing or have the same employment status.

We don’t enjoy the same opportunities or possibilities nor are we the same age or grew up the same way.

But it is precisely those differences that make us the same. 

The spirit of a warrior woman, one who doesn’t give up.

One who doesn’t have much but still gives.

Someone who doesn’t know it all but continues to learn.

This woman that I met yesterday;

A mother

A sister

A wife

A friend

A loved one. 

This woman is me.

This woman is you.

She is all of us.

This post was orginally written and published in June 2018

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