Skip to main content

Sweet Medicine - Panashe Chigumadzi

I have learnt to appreciate time more in the period that I've been unemployed since holding a temporary position from mid -April 'til end of October. Waking up early and returning back after sunset tired from an hour's walk is no child's play, even for a girl like me with a Strong Rural Background (SRB -as Panashe calls it). As an avid reader, you always find yourself stealing excerpts from the reads around you as the thought of not reading anything goes against who you've become. Some nights I was too tired to even take off my 'work clothes' I'd just doze off. This is to say, I've taken my time reading books I'd normally finish in no time and now that I am in 'full control' of my time, I can fully immerse myself in my reads - a great example will be Panashe Chigumadzi's Sweet Medicine.


Prior to this read, I was reading particularly heavy books, from Malebo Sephodi's Miss Behave I found myself in Pumla Dineo Gqola's Rape: A South African Nightmare (which I am to continue with in the new year). Throw Sizwe Mpofu-Walsh's Democracy & Delusion in there. The last page-turner I couldn't put down was Trevor Noah's Born a Crime. Now, here we are with Sweet Medicine - a book I have been meaning to read since release but my space wouldn't allow me.


I borrowed the book on a Monday afternoon, read the prologue that night before going to bed, threw myself back in it first thing on Tuesday and snail-read the last 4 chapters and convinced myself to finish it the following morning (which I did) just to make myself feel better. It's a particularly average-paged novel, depending of course, on your scale of average when it comes to your reads. More important than that though, it was relatable, perhaps too relatable? I was Tsitsi - an SRB girl who was raised under strict religious disciplines (though not Catholic if we're to care about holier-than-thou labels). Tsitsi's Mom - Mma wa ka - a devout Christian womxn with an unshakable faith, sacrificing her time and life, for the betterment of her children (in my case). I found myself in tears I couldn't hold back after this read. Maybe from a build-up of the space I currently find myself in at this phase of my life.


You're raised Christian, grow up to question it with most of the answers said to be 'beyond human comprehension' because 'divinity'. With the love of a supportive mother, you still find yourself disappointing her in your failure to uphold your Christian upbringing when it seems you can't make sense of your own life. In trying to find your feet, aligning your 'purpose' with Self, and putting God in the equation, there seems to still be a missing factor - a miscalculation perhaps? It always sounds and seems like another cliché story when a Tsitsi graduates with distinction, only to land a secretary job, and finds themselves at the mercy of patriarchy. I mean, #SlayQueen, #WCW, #RelationshipGoals, #Baecation, #HireAGrad, #JobSeekersWednesday, #Hashtag. In the times that we live in, where does our SweetMedicine come from? Can we save ourselves?

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

THE CRY OF WINNIE MANDELA: DEPARTURES. WAITINGS. RETURNS.

SHOW: The Cry of Winnie Mandela  WHERE: The Market Theatre Laboratory WHEN: 04 May 2024 DIRECTOR: Momo Matsunyane August was Women's Month in South Africa, where we commerate the brave Womxn of 1956 on the 9th who were tired of waiting.  Over the years, I have come to use the day to reflect on my own personal experiences and draw inspiration from the Womxn in my life. Ibandla lam'. 'The Cry of Winnie Mandela' adapted for stage by Alex Burger, spoiled us with songs and amongst them was this timeless hymn:  "Bohang seema, ha ba hlaha ka kgoro Jerusalema e mocha..." Those that are familiar with groups of Womxn will tell you that in their meetings, conversations can easily move from marital and relationship bliss - or bleak as is the case with the Womxn in this play - through the latest news, down to song and wailing prayers. Different emotions were invoked with each song as 'Ibandla la Bafazi Abalindileyo' took us through their jou...

FINDING ME, VIOLA DAVIS

  "My entire life had been struggle and survival. I'd been on my own since age seventeen. The fact that it was hard, shitty, was nothing new, but the biggest struggle was keeping hope and belief in myself. Then, finding an art community for support while fighting my ass off to stay alive." - Viola Davis in her book, 'Finding Me' My biggest beef with poverty is that it sets one a million steps back. Poverty and lack will have you questioning your worth even when you receive what you have tirelessly worked your ass off for. Your voice is in constant fear-mode on subjects you're well-versed on. Your confidence is almost non-existent in rooms you deem above you. Saying 'no' is not part of your vocabulary because you always consider others before you. Yet, you are capable and deserving. More than deserving. Because who, if not you? Getting out of this pit is one of the most difficult things one has to go through. Unfortunately, a majority of Bla...

Born A Crime: a long awaited review by the Protégé

Born A Crime: a long awaited review by the Protégé It’s been well over a year since I read Trevor Noah’s Born A Crime; and I remember swearing to Self that I will review it as soon as I was done *insert laughing emojis*. Little did I know that I was going to live it (consciously so) more than reviewing it – this is one of the books I read in 2017 that was top of my Books I Would Recommend list, pretty much to anyone. Fast forward to 2018, Winter Recess, and my 13 YEAR OLD (I had to - #Pride people) nephew finds this gem on their visit. I tell him there’s a book he needs to read and essay (read review) before they leave and he didn’t waste any time. But first, he had to remind me that I robbed him of the chance to finish Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie’s Purple Hibiscus back in 2016 (circumstances, very special circumstances) when he was halfway through the book. Born A Crime was an intellectual debt transaction between an aunt and her nephew. Below is MK the Poet’s (as he c...