Racism, Politics & the Spirit of Fear


Martin Luther King

Yesterday, I was verbally attacked for not being fully black (my mum’s white)… I couldn’t believe the hatred that came out of the person’s mouth. They directed racist abuse towards me – pointing out my background, my skin being fairer than theirs and my hair being too long to be “black”. Whaaaat?! Are we really going there, again? 

This happens to me every now and then (click here to read), but whenever it does it’s still a shock to my system, especially when it’s done by someone who’s close to my heart.

I won’t say who they were because I’m not here to fight the perpetrator, but I do want to come against the spirit (of fear). That person has been following American politics and got infuriated by president Trump’s racial attacks on 4 democratic women of colour… I understand why he felt angry, but he did to me the exact same thing Trump did to the other women. That’s what fear does – it makes you irrationally hate another… Reverse racism does exist. Since when are all white people responsible for evil actions of one or even a group of “their kind”? By that standard, should all black people be responsible for evil actions of one or a group of “their kind”? Moreover, being mixed-raced, should we be responsible for every crazy utterance of every black and/or white person? This… is… madness! We are individuals responsible for our own actions and nobody else’s. 

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I don’t support the American president’s racist comments and the dangerous ways in which he carries on in his role. I don’t know much about politics, but my heart sank when he became the head of the state… Still, I don’t appreciate the vulgar way in which one of the women expressed her desire to impeach him. I understand her anger, but there’s a better way (language) to confront evil. We cannot fight fire with fire and we can definitely not fight racism with more racism… Two wrongs don’t make a right. Why do we remember and respect men like dr Martin Luther King or Nelson Mandela? Because, despite injustice and cruelty, they responded with love and reason. They did not debase themselves to the level of those misguided by hatred and othering… 

We live in a fallen world. Bad things happen here. Bad people further their evil agendas… Is it difficult to manoeuvre through the darkness? Yes! The only thing that centres me is knowing that in the midst of it all, God is still in control. And, that there will be a time when all lies will be exposed and the truth will stand. It may not be  for another hundred years, or it might be tomorrow – but that time will come. In the meantime, we have to stay close to Him or our hearts will surely fail out of fear… 

I’d like to conclude with the following verses from the Bible which is what helps me with my own struggles in this area…

Men’s hearts failing them for fear, and for looking after those things which are coming on the earth: for the powers of heaven shall be shaken…” 

Be strong and of a good courage, fear not, nor be afraid of them: for the Lord thy God, he it is that doth go with thee; he will not fail thee, nor forsake thee.”

Talking with a Mother – Short Story


Homeless MotherWhile they seat in their big houses, I’m wondering how to tell my children that we must move out of our tiny flat, and that I don’t know where we’re going to…

–    ‘Must we leave our friends? Must we change our school?’

They ask, and I feel like running away, but they have only me, so I have to stay.

I go to the powers that be and ask them for help. They don’t look in my eyes. They glance… Their head holds a PC inside, rather than a mind, never mind a human heart. They hand me a number to ring. And I do, so I can be lied to… I sense that their words might be far from the truth, so I start my own search online. The computer, seemingly a little more humane, tells me part of what’s to know. “You are on the waiting list – number 334. So, I go back to the ‘people’, and ask:

–      “Does this mean that you’ll help us move house?”

–     “No.” They say. “Don’t leave there – stay. When you’re on the streets – come back. Then, we’ll have a chat. There are many like you. You are not the only one.” Fine! I leave. “Next one, please!” I hear them yell. I feel like I’ll lose my mind if I stay. From now on, I’ll send letters or I’ll e-mail them.

I will work, at the same time, as hard as I can. Though, to rent a new small flat this job won’t provide. What else will I do? I will cry, sometimes. Not too much. I don’t want to drown… in tears. Then, I’ll work again just to pay the bills. I feel really tired – I’ve been lacking sleep… I can’t let them kill me though! I’m going to live! Yet, I bottle these fears and the pain. There’s a bottle of wine in my hand.

– “Why?” The interviewer asks.

– “Why wine? I’m cutting my chocolate down.”

– “No. Why bottle the pain? Why not talk to someone?” He smiles.

– “Oh…” She sighs.

Those who are comfortable want to stay comfortable. They say that they pray for me and my family while they seat in their big houses comfortably. Meanwhile, I wonder how to tell my children that we have to move, again… And, I cannot tell them where we’re going to… I don’t know… God knows. Oh… {She pauses} That’s right. He does. ‘Oh, thank you for listening’, she adds.

The interviewer smiles.

 “I will put this wine away. I’m going to pray.”

She gets up and goes… Where to? Well… God knows.

Happy Mother's Day

Dedicated to all mothers - especially those forced to persevere 
a lot more than others. You are amazing! Happy Mother's Day!

‘Yellow cards & hearts’


YellowCard 1

There was once a yellow card

Stapled to a little heart…

It said, ‘you’re not good enough!’

Whispered that she’s bad.

It came at a time

When much seemed unsure

New place, new life, new pain –

While others were dancing

She walked in the rain…

Still, via these uneven roads, they  came

One card, two cards, three cards, four,

Five cards, six cards. Red card! More?!

One by one they came – again & again.

No questions, no mercy!

No face and no smile!

None was even handed in –

Only stapled… to her heart.

These cards saw her tears,

but they wouldn’t yield –

‘This life isn’t just’, they said. 

‘This is not a football field!’

She was but a little girl…

And life wasn’t fair!

Yet, her pain was not in vain…

 Even then, her God was there.