The joys and pains of Motherhood

I tend to be quite cautious about what I share on Facebook. While I don't want to come across as someone who carefully manufactures a picture-perfect Facebook life -only posting flattering holiday or family pictures where everyone is giddily happy - at the same time I would generally prefer not air my problems on social networks. The trivialities of life are fine - I'd happily tell all about my little missteps, or failings but larger, more real issues I'm afraid have to be left for person to person interaction. So when a friend did what I would ordinarily consider "overshare" today about her feelings of being unappreciated by her children and their father, I must admit that my immediate reaction was to cringe. I cringed not because I couldn't relate to what she was saying but because I thought here she was baring her soul for all one hundred and something of her so-called friends. I almost in-boxed her to ask her what was going on and if she needed to talk. But then I thought better of it and decided to respond directly to her posting my comment for other women who have similar sentiments to read.

All too often mothers are silenced by their peers, their partners, their children, by society. To speak about motherhood in a negative way can raise eyebrows and elicit whispers. Either you end up becoming the object of pity by the self-declared supermums or everyone starts walking on eggshells around you as though you're mentally unstable and could snap at any moment. Yet it is perfectly acceptable to have moments of doubt or misgivings as girlfriends or wives, so why is it unfathomable that we can experience the same thing as mothers?

From the changes our bodies undergo during pregnancy to the incomparable pain of childbirth, to the incredibly difficult post natal period where women either feel overwhelmed by the reality of having a living breathing being that requires their constant attention - to the unbearably painful and emotional early stages of breastfeeding and then the emotional rollercoaster of being all things to our children while managing our household and/or maintaining full time jobs and ensuring we look good enough to dissuade our partners/husbands from straying - women seem to bear it all....at times stoically, at other times with outward joy. For the most part, we realise that the rewards are far greater than the agony we go through - we bear the scars of motherhood with a sense of pride - the stretch marks; the hanging tummy or mother's apron as it's aptly known. We say goodbye to the idea of wearing teeny bikinis because there is this incredible person in our lives, who loves us unconditionally and makes us laugh and smile and cry and we cannot imagine ourselves without them....even if ourselves before them were skinnier and less sleep deprived.

Yet there are times when motherhood does feel like a thankless job, when it takes all the strength and willpower to stop yourself from having the outburst, from crying, from locking yourself in the bathroom and demanding a moment's peace from everyone. There are times when we have to, we need to take a break from the running around and taking care of everyone, making sure lunch and snacks are packed, uniforms are ironed, classes are attended - when we simply need to stop and ask ourselves "who is taking care of us?" And at times the answer we come back with is terribly depressing and yet we still press on. After all, this is our calling, so we tell ourselves, so quitting is simply not an option.

But if we are going to press on as primary caregivers, as fixers of everything - psychiatrists, book keepers, drivers, lovers, cooks, teachers, which I fully accept, surely we should be allowed to scream when it all gets overwhelming. Our genuinely expressed anguish shouldn't elicit cringes from our friends who are all too familiar with the things we're complaining about. We should be able to say that we feel unappreciated without being made to feel like we are letting the 'side' down...not quite coping as expected. We shouldn't feel the need to compete with the domestic goddesses who too, more likely than not, have moments of self-doubt and angst. Most importantly we should be able to tell our children and our partners how we feel. We should be able to ask them to do better, to consider our feelings too without it being seen as emotional blackmail or worse still, that loathsome sexist put down....nagging. 

Because of my reaction today, I want to apologise to all the mothers who've ever felt dismissed by their friends and their loved ones. You are right to feel overwhelmed, angry, taken for granted, even depressed at times. Those feelings are valid given what you go through each and every day. Seeing your children grow or your partner become more successful may not be enough to appease you so my hope is that, like my friend, you will find the courage to tell those who matter in your life how you feel. I hope that they will love you enough to listen and to do something about it - to start to see you as more than just a person whose role in life is facilitate their lives. And more importantly I hope you will start seeing yourself as more than their cheerleader and recognise that you are a person in your own right - that before you were a mother or a wife, you had interests, a goal, a focus! In remembering that, hopefully as mums, we can focus more on taking care of ourselves and being our own biggest fans rather than waiting for the one day each year when the people we show love and appreciation 365 days - return the favour.

A dinner party with five incredible women

If I could pick five incredible women to have dinner with on any given night, I can say with certainty that I would be spoilt for choice. I consider myself fortunate enough to be able to call some amazing women, mum, aunts, cousins and friends. If asked however to pick five famous women with whom I would sit around a huge dinner table drinking wine and home-made ginger beer or bissap and eating good food - I can easily think of five such women whose company I would love to share. The idea of being in one place with them and sharing ideas, experiences with hopefully lots and lots of laughter - I hope we'd be reluctant to part company because there would be so much to say.

My "famous five" - are women who based on what they say and do, I find myself thinking I would love to get to know them them, not the fame and fortune but because of what they stand for and the fact that the values they hold seem so familiar to me. These women leave me with a sense of affinity - despite the fact that I do not know them - they appear to embody the values that I see in my girlfriends and the female members of my family. They give me a sense that were we ever to find ourselves at the same dinner table, we would never run out of things to say to each other.

A few weeks ago I attended an talk at Long Island University with Edwidge Danticat - Haitian-American writer of both fiction and non-fiction. I have admired Edwidge ever since I read her novel "Breath, Eyes, Memory". My admiration comes not only from the fact that I believe her to be one of the few truly talented storytellers in modern times - whenever I read her work, from Krik Krak to the Dew Breaker, to Brother I'm dying, I get the sense that the words just flow from her...like a natural gift; but also because she is more than just a writer, she is an activist, an advocate for human rights - a principled truth-teller.
There is something effortless about the way she tells her stories - often times when you read the works of accomplished writers, you get the sense that a great deal of research went into it - it can almost seem like a scientific exercise - where words are carefully chosen and imagery is meticulously juxtaposed with events to create a final product that is worthy of literary awards. With Edwidge, she writes as though she is your Haitian friend taking you on a journey to her beautiful country. She wants to introduce you to her people in all their glory. She wants to tell you of their resilience in spite of all the odds, in spite of natural disasters and foreign interference and corrupt governments. She is also your activist friend, refusing to turn a blind eye simply because it's politically safe to do so. In her latest novel, Claire of the Sea Light, Edwidge invites us to a small fishing town in Haiti - she introduces us to the lives of the people who live there - rich and poor, young and old; she invites us to see their lives, their experiences, their trials and tribulations and witness the choices they make - from their perspective. When I met Edwidge, I could not pass up on the chance to ask her a question - I wanted to know what the future held for Haitian literature - were new writers coming up who would continue the work she and many others like Dany Leferriere had begun. She responded enthusiastically, listing some of the incredible writers that have emerged both from Haiti and the Haitian diaspora. Afterwards as she signed my book...a book she wrote ....called "Creating dangerously", we talked about the similarities between oral traditions of storytelling in Haiti and Sierra Leone. I told her that where in Haiti, they use the call and answer "Krik" followed by "Krak" for storytelling, we use "Il" followed by "Ow" in Sierra Leone. I left the event feeling proud to have gotten to know Edwidge a little better....the mother, the writer, the activist became that little bit more familiar to me and a lot more affable.

I started listening to my second famous dinner guest, Ms. Emeli Sande in the summer of 2012 - I was travelling alone and often found myself wondering alone discovering a city in Germany. Emeli's album "Our version of the events" was my playlist on repeat. I can't put my fingers on what it is about Emeli that makes me think of her differently to many other talented artists. It goes without saying that her lyrics move me. I can listen to 'Suitcase' a thousand times, but I'm always left with the same sense of nostalgia - I can't put my finger on why she makes me think of lost moments and lost loves and perhaps a simpler era - which may or may not be in my mind only. I saw her perform suitcase in Central Park last summer and remember feeling overcome by a sense of sadness- as I listened to her sing, it feels like she is telling a story that I am familiar with or as though she's put into words all the heartache that accompanied discovering love and loss and learning to love again and again. There's also a simplicity about Emeli, the person that I love - she is all about her music - and in this fickle world that we live in today, that is a rare thing. I love that she is smart - intelligent- objectively speaking - not simply because she studied medicine (in the hopes of one day becoming a neurologist - admitting that she wanted to find out why we act the way we do) - but also because when she talks and sings and performs, you can tell that she's both engaged and engaging. She is no product of a record label's PR machinery. If you follow her on twitter (@emelisande), you'll see less of what she's wearing or how sexy she looks and more of what she's thinking or doing. Her understatedness means that what you think most about, is her music - her ability to write incredible music and play the piano beautifully . I was so moved when I saw her perform that I promised myself that I would one day pay more just to see her - the concert in the park was only $30  - part of the Summer Stage series. I found her music so inspiring that I wanted to make sure I could one day pay a fair price for benefitting from her incredible talent. Emeli is so grounded - she often talks in interviews about her English mum and Zambian father who is a school teacher - and she seems to credit them with the woman she has become today. During her performance, when she introduced "My kind of love", she mentioned that the song was inspired by cancer patients that she saw while she was studying and the strength of the love she witnessed from their families who continued to visit and show their unwavering love and support in spite of their individual situations. In relation to that particular song, Emeli's been quoted as saying that she wanted to speak of a love, other than the romantic type of love adding "It would be sad if we lost our instinct and our courage to love and protect."

I would love to share a glass with Emeli - even if that glass is full of her favourite raw juice because in my mind she embodies my kind of values - her down-to-earthedness, her strength, her principles and her inner beauty which shines through her character and her music time and time again.

My third dinner guest would be Ava Duvernay, the director of "Middle of Nowhere" . As well as loving Ava's beautiful smile and gloriously enviable locs, I love the fact that she makes films that I want to go and see. Ava defied the odds and went from being a publicist to becoming a director. Her first feature film was I will follow. She is intelligent and humble and seems to feel a sense of responsibility for making films that people like me want to watch. She runs a distribution company called African-American Film Festival Releasing Movement, that is dedicated to discovering and promoting films by black directors. The company has released five films in the past four years. When I saw the Middle of Nowhere which won her best director at the Sundance Film festival in 2012 (the first black woman to win this coveted prize), I remember thinking what a simple yet beautifully shot film. Having read a number of her interviews, my respect for her has grown even more since I sat in the Magic Johnson cinema in Harlem alone watching and being in awe of Ava. When asked about how she describes herself, she doesn't shy away from the label of a black film maker, instead she describes herself as a black woman film maker and says unapologetically that she has no qualms about this label because that is the lens through which she creates her art. The middle of nowhere explores the point at which we start to lose ourselves in a relationship, Ava describes this as common with women in romantic relationships where we seem to 'give up so much of ourselves'. I love that Ava is telling stories that I can relate to and that she is not afraid to defend her art and to speak candidly about what motivates her to tell one story or another. I loved that she was honoured by Essence recently at the Black Women in Hollywood event where she gave a beautiful speech saying that the story of black people "deserve to be told. Not as sociology, not as spectacle, not as a singular event that happens every so often, but regularly and purposefully as truth and as art on an ongoing basis, as do the stories of all the women [we] love.”  For me in those simple words - she captures the challenge we face as black people - in having our stories told, in all their diverse glory  and in a human relatable way. I'm often struck by how the humanitarian world, the media and countless others treat the stories of black people - we become specimens, being observed - there's an eagerness to conclude that one pattern or the other exists - to make deductions without delving very deeply. I love that Ava's words seem to reflect her actions and I love that she recognises the importance of a strong female support network- at the end of her speech at the Essence event, she noted "where there is a woman there is magic, and she can share or not share her powers." I can't wait to see her next film which is a biopic on Martin Luther King or share that moment at my dinner table with her - a girl can dream right?

In speaking about our stories, I was recently fortunate enough to be able to meet a writer who has spoken extensively about the danger of the single story. A writer whose work I love and whom I admire. A friend, who knows that Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, happens to be my ultimate girl crush, wrote to me to say that she had met her in Amsterdam. I was green with envy but over the moon that she and I were now a degree of separation closer. Perhaps I subconsciously asked God to allow me to meet her too because less than a day after I learnt she had given a talk in Amsterdam, another friend told me about a similar event, a talk, here in New York that was being organised by the Aspen Institute. The format would be someone from the Aspen Institute putting questions to her and Chimamanda responding....off the cuff ofcourse . I not only rsvp'd as soon as I heard about the event, I arrived 30 minutes early - no mean feat for a lastminute.com'er like me; I was so excited to see her and already knew the question I would ask her when given the chance. The 'conversation' lasted for just over an hour - the moderator, a dancer and director, white and male was surprisingly able to balance his questions - touching on her writing, politics, and ofcourse her stunning hair (at that time it was in cornrows gathered in a front chignon). Chimamanda was candid, yet charismatic, gracious and hilarious. As she spoke I kept thinking of how much she sounded like my girlfriends - she would do an exaggerated American accent when mocking the fact that there was a time when she chose to speak that way or would over-emphasise the Naija (Nigerian) accent in order to make a point, usually a funny one. She talked about her piece on the anti-homosexuality law in Nigeria and why she disagreed with those who opposed the law simply because they claimed, it was a distraction from larger more important matters - she argued instead that  for her it was a call to action because the it denied the fundamental human rights of a entire group of citizens simply because of who they loved. I asked her whether this law and the pattern that seemed to be emerging in many African countries of persecuting vulnerable groups - be they homosexual or women (I mentioned Uganda's anti-pornography law which allowed men to harass women for dressing in a so-called provocative manner) made her feel ambivalent in any way about living ' back home' in Nigeria. I loved her answer which was that while she could relate to this sense of ambivalence which she knew many Africans in the Diaspora felt, leaving Nigeria simply was not an option for her - she added that as nationals of a country we need to engage - collectively. At the same time she joked about owning a house in Nigeria that she had paid for and that therefore she refused to leave - she joked "Do you know how much I paid for that house?". Again the Naija accent was over-emphasised and her words far from being a way of bragging were instead a candid way of admitting that this was a "No turning back situation". Chimamanda comes across as humble and honest - she confessed to wasting hours on the internet following Lupita Nyong'o's every fashion move. The audience - mostly black women, African, Caribbean and African-American laughed knowing full well that we too shared her guilty pleasure. Chimamanda, should you ever read this piece, I'm extending an invitation to you as my fourth guest for what promises to be a very engaging dinner party.

Last but my no means least, I am proudly joining the Lupita Nyong'o bandwagon. When I found out some weeks ago that she lives in Brooklyn, I started daydreaming of one day bumping into her at Madiba's in Fort Greene or at BAM in downtown Brooklyn or Buttermilk Channel in Carroll Gardens. I have perhaps spent longer than is socially acceptable wondering where in Brooklyn,
Ms. Nyong'o could possibly reside. I never thought of myself as the stalky type but having created a Pinterest board with no less than 110 photos of Lupita, I think I may have to reassess my thinking. In my defence though although Lupita is the flavour of the moment for many people - from those residing in superficial Hollywood, to members of the fickle media, or opportunistic Politicians who are ready to capitalise on her success, some of us are wowed by her not only because of her Oscar winning performance and not only because of the fact that she is a joy to behold in the various couture gowns designers seem to be throwing at her. It's not even simply because every time she gives an interview or delivers a speech, her intelligence and humility shine through so much that you cannot help but root for her. For me it's the fact that even before Hollywood, this beautiful woman made choices that set her apart. She directed an incredible film giving a voice to a group that has for too long been invisible in many countries in Africa. Her documentary
"In my Genes" follows eight albino Kenyans and examines the way society views them - how they are marginalized and treated as non-citizens. But beyond depicting them as victims, Lupita documents how they overcome their challenges and her film celebrates the triumphs they experience each day, however small. It is a powerful documentary and as young as she is, (she was even younger - 26 - when the documentary was released), she seems to have a wisdom that is uncommon even in those older than her, and very rare among people in the entertainment industry.
I was also fortunate enough to watch Lupita in Shuga, an MTV produced HIV-Aids awareness web series aired in Kenya in 2009 which was hugely popular. Lupita played an ambitious and confident student in the series who lost sight of what was truly important to her in her pursuit of a career. She was as impressive in the season one of the series and although she only appeared briefly in season two, the series (still available on YouTube) was so popular that it gave rise to a Nigerian spin off. Every time I see or hear Lupita, I want to clap or pump my fists in the air - she is a serious breath of fresh air.....just what we needed in an entertainment world that seems to prostitute itself for fame and fortune on daily basis. In Lupita's speech at the Essence Black Women in Hollywood event in which she too was honoured alongside my girl, Ava (*chuckle*), she talked about her mother's message to her that "You can't eat beauty...it doesn't sustain you". It reminds me of a similar message from my mum and aunt who tried to remind me and my cousins each day that what mattered was education, hard work and perseverance. Girls who relied on their beauty did so because they had nothing else to offer - but smart girls like us would put our abilities above everything else. If anything we were encouraged to play down that beauty - at least in the school context - the pretty girl antics could come out for the odd party or social event - but then it would be tucked away again when the week started and our futures were at stake. I admire so much about Lupita - I am fully aware that she comes from a privileged family but there are so many like her who have not demonstrated her level of understanding, humility and compassion. She is a joy to behold in every sense of the word and if I am fortunate enough to one day bump into her somewhere in Brooklyn, I hope she'll accept my invitation to share a bottle of wine or two with me and four other equally inspirational phenomenal women.

Open letter from a feminist to Beyonce

Dear Mrs Carter,

I feel compelled as a feminist and a huge fan of Ms. Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie to write to you. I write partly in protest of the powerful western media machine's decision to make you the poster child for modern day feminism but also because I think you could benefit from understanding what feminism really means and why, while many of us admire what we see as your aspiration to feminism, would beg to differ from those who claim you already are a feminist. Let me make it clear from the outset, I don't see feminism as an exclusive club of an educated minority but I do think it requires a certain sense of responsibility and actions that reflect values that go beyond coining the phrase 'girl power' or telling men that they should 'put a ring on it'. It goes beyond the celebrity gimmicks that seem to surface periodically and while the definition offered by Chimamanda  - "a person who believes in the social, political and economic equality of the sexes" seems straightforward enough - I would argue that feminism is in fact far from straightforward. Let me explain....

First of all, I have to confess that I was irritated by your decision to sample Chimamanda's Ted talk "We should all be feminists" - I found it frivolous in the context of 'that song' and while I realise that by sampling her, you've exposed her to a much wider audience than her usual fan base of bookworms and African literature buffs, I can't help but wish she had politely declined your request - assuming of course that she received one. You describe the song "Flawless/Bow down bitches" as your "angry moment" inspired by those who have tried to undermine you. Yet by sampling Chimamanda, who I might add refused to comment on the song when pressed in a recent interview, I think you undermine her message - and associate her otherwise powerful words with trifling accounts of 'bitches' and 'tricks' who dreamt of being in your world. I find it ironic that the same song minus the "we should all be feminists" sound bites was released months earlier and was greeted by a barrage of negative reviews - largely because of your use of the B word. Even if as you claim, it's a song that allows you to vent about all the haters in your life, I still find it troubling that you would consider all those 'haters' to be women - and that you would choose to respond to those 'haters' boasting about your flawless diamond and good looks? Really Bey? Is that the best you can give us - your
one-upmanship is reduced to your looks and wealth? It saddens me also as a feminist that your angry energy wasn't used to denounce the men you've had in your life who wanted to use you, parade you like an object and take away any agency you had to determine your life or future? Surely a song like that would have been worthy of Chimamanda's words and would demonstrate real female empowerment, especially in an industry like yours where all too often women are reduced to singing or dancing sexual objects .

Call me old fashioned or another jealous 'hater' but it saddens me that our society places so much value on all things celebrity, we consume without critiquing. Rather than point out the obvious that it is hypocritical for you to talk about the importance of empowering women in a social, economic, and political way on the one hand (granted through Chimamanda's words)  and on the other hand using the words bitch and trick - words that have been used, in particular by rap artists (like your husband) to denigrate and reduce women to promiscuous, money-grabbing sexual objects not worthy of any respect, we turn a blind eye because it's a Beyonce masterpiece. Being rich and ridiculously famous seems to make you immune to criticism and prone to an obscene amount of sycophancy. Take for instance the release of your music/video album in December last year - described by the media and your fans with so much fervour, a visitor to our planet would have been forgiven for thinking that within those songs and videos was the cure for cancer, or the formula to end world poverty. I remember thinking that the world had gone mad and *smdh* every time I read serious journalists wax lyrical about what a coup it was. How revolutionary you were. I was perplexed when people described the event as though Tupac Shakur had released a new album without anyone being aware that a) he had come back from the dead and b) was making beautiful music with another member of the living dead, Notorious B.I.G.

In addition to our blind consumption of everything you do, there is the tendency to give artists like you, the very famous ones, far more intellectual credit than they deserve, I say this with all due respect ofcourse. This is evidenced in the whole debate about you being a feminist - a new breed of feminist because you sampled Chimamanda and because this album demonstrates your sexual liberation - irrefutable proof that you are a feminist.  You couldn't possibly be another Miley Cyrus or Rihanna, selling an over-sexualised image as a desperate plea for attention, or a Lil' Kim pulling all the stops in an effort to keep up with younger artists. At your level of fame - it has to be interpreted as far deeper - according to one (albeit stupid) journalist you embody modern feminism. And while you haven't explicitly claimed the title of feminist icon, you seem nonetheless to somewhat ascribe to it. How else can we explain your gender equality essay in the Shriver Report - the term essay of course is used very loosely here - as it was less analysis and more stating the obvious in 200 words or less. Nothing you said in that short piece could be described as groundbreaking, yet once again the reaction was feverishly congratulatory - someone (another idiot) described you as the women's studies professor we always wish we had. Others referred to you as a Renaissance woman - and your "essay" as "badass" - you are, we're told "the freshest face of feminism". And you know what Mrs Carter, reading all this made me feel like the little boy in "The Emperor's new clothes". I watch on as everyone from renowned feminists to intelligent social critics refuse to point out the obvious .....that your brand of feminism is devoid of any substance - that it is, like the foolish emperor, completely naked. Essence magazine referred to  your "unconventional  brand of feminism" while a Huff Post live group chat with female academics, journalists and social activists said you had sparked a debate about black feminism with your album. "Really?" I thought, and found myself wondering if I was the one missing the point. 

So in addition to reading your 'essay', reviewing the lyrics of "Flawless/Bow down bitches", I  decided to go to the source and bought your self-titled album for myself - complete with its 17 videos -the first time I have ever purchased your music. And here Mrs Carter is where I fell further into the depths of despair albeit while bobbing my head to a few dope beats like your collaboration with Nas (more so for the beats than the lyrics) and the corny but very catchy "XO"(granted I wont be doing the hand signs). It goes without saying you've enlisted some great songwriters and music makers - there are a number of songs that will no doubt become hits and for the most part they demonstrate a lot more depth than your previous work although let's be fair it doesn't take a lot to go deeper than "your love's got me looking so crazy right now" or "ladies if you love your man show him you the fliest...grind up on it girl, show him how you ride it" or from the abysmal Cater to you, "my life would be purposeless without you". One of the first things that struck me as I listened/watched is that while you seem to want to denounce the shallowness of our world, and obsession with outwardly beauty - as demonstrated in a song like "Pretty Hurts" - there appears to be some confusion or mixed message as you nonetheless play up to that very stereotype by showcasing your body  in every single one of your videos. There's not a single video that doesn't treat us to Beyonce's bootyliciousnes (to borrow your term). In some we even get more flesh than we've ever seen before -those lucky lucky male and lesbian fans must be doing cartwheels with all the nakedness that's on offer on this visual album - for instance in the disco-ey tune "Blow" produced by Pharell, we get to see how you work your 'fatty' presumably during coitus. Lucky Jay!

And while I think it's great that you're so much at ease with your sexuality as to want to regale us with talk of your sexiness, your sexual exploits and prowess, I'm still not getting the feminism in your words Bey. In every song that deals with sex (and a lot of them do) the recurring theme seems to be pleasing your man. You're either letting him be the boss of you (Blow) or giving him everything he wants (No Angel) or even better going down on him to the point where he "Monica Lewinski's" all over your gown (Partition). I can't help but tut and wonder where the evidence of sexual empowerment lies in those lyrics. It's clear that you've always given a great deal of credit to your husband for making you the woman you are today and while I don't think that in and of itself takes away your feminist credentials (if indeed you have any), I do think that it's important to demonstrate that you really are more than just Mrs. Carter - more than 'his little wife' as you say. For instance during your Grammy Award performance last month, we saw a half naked Beyonce and a fully clothed Jay Z. I found it hard to spot the difference between that performance and the countless hip hop videos with naked women parading and shaking that "ass" while fully-clothed men act either aggressive, or like pimps who are displaying their 'goods' or completely disinterested - think Kanye West's "Bound" video with his butt naked fiancée. What would have been a feminist coup was if Jay Z appeared on stage in a string with his butt cheeks also on display for millions to gawk at. That I would have paid good money to see. Instead we saw a Beyonce that was gyrating on a chair while Jay remained composed and then it got worse as Mrs Carter sang along to Mr Carter's controversial rap lyrics that evoke one of the most chilling accounts of domestic abuse on film. I could not help but wonder how much of that was you, and how much was you wanting to please your man regardless of how affronted women and men who abhor domestic violence were by those lyrics.

But let's get back to the S word....even if we want to argue that the ease with which you speak about sex - in all it's explicit glory demonstrates your maturity - your feminist chops because you're exploring your sexuality - I would counter that by saying that your lyrics demonstrate that you still see your body as a tool to please a man - even if that man is your husband. Sexual awareness in the context of feminism is about liberation - a freedom to be at ease with your body in whatever shape or form it is, and a freedom to recognize that you too are a part of the act of sex and should be pleased. It's not simply about exploring new ways to please your man and playing up to the inexperienced female stereotype (even though I'm all for role-playing); it should instead be about commanding that pleasure-giving be reciprocal. And simply throwing in a few lines from a Hollywood film that deals with the perceived ambiguity between feminism and the act of sex ("Est-ce que tu aimes le sexe? Le sexe. Je veux dire, l’activité physique. Le coït. Tu aimes ça? Tu ne t’interesses pas au sexe? Les hommes pensent que les féministes détestent le sexe, mais c’est une activité très stimulante et naturelle que les femmes adorent."- translated as " Do you like sex? Sex. I mean, the physical activity. Coitus. Do you like it? You're not interested in sex? Men think that feminists hate sex, But it's a very stimulating and natural activity that women love.) in a song that also talks about wanting to be the kind of girl that "daddy" likes does not render the song nor you any more feminist. 

While I agree that sexual empowerment is a strong part of feminism- neither your album nor your Grammy performance demonstrate that Mrs Carter. But beyond my objection to your so-called sexual empowerment, I also think you fail to realise that the values we teach as feminists require us to demonstrate to our girls that what matters is not, their outer beauty but rather the same things their male counterparts are judged by - their intelligence, and mental or physical ability. Like so many female artists you do a disservice to feminism by only playing up your sex appeal. While there is nothing wrong with celebrating your beauty and sexiness - both qualities I think are undisputed - it seems all we've been treated to in the 15 odd years of your career, is bootylicious Beyonce and her 'jelly'. Why not switch it up a little and show us a fully clothed, non-gyrating Beyonce whose powerful voice is enough to get our attention? Why not post pictures on Instagram of you fully clothed and reading a book by...oh I don't know...let's say Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie (your favourite author according to Elle magazine)? 

Your images are so over-sexualised that I found myself mouth wide open and in shock when President Obama  referred to you as a role model for his daughters, one of whom wasn't even a teenager at the time. I'm not suggesting for one minute that young girls should be your audience - in an ideal world they wouldn't be - your sexually explicit album would be the soundtrack to foreplay for grown, consenting adults - an audio and visual pornography if you will. Sadly though, your reach goes way beyond consenting adults especially because of the wide endorsement you get from everyone including the most powerful man in the world. I think this makes it all the more unfortunate that young girls are not given a variety of images from such a talented artist as yourself. It's unfortunate that the message you put out (perhaps inadvertently) is that even with a powerful voice - your breasts, your butt, your ability to turn a man on, matter equally, if not more. And because the image we receive of women in the entertainment industry as sexual objects is so one-dimensional, it makes the role of those of us who are trying to impart feminist values on young girls even harder.  In order for us to be truly empowered economically, politically and socially, men must be able to see us and we must see ourselves as their equals - which means we play by the rules they do. If they don't have to strip off their clothes for attention, we shouldn't have to. Our girls need to understand that what matters is what they can offer intellectually and while they should feel empowered enough, come a certain age, to engage in sex as they choose, it should never be as some man's 'trick' or 'bitch'. 

Finally...I'd like to say I really enjoyed watching your cleverly put together video "Grown woman" especially towards the end where you borrow some slick Congolese dance moves, but I couldn't help but wonder if you've missed the point of just what it means to be a grown woman. I think there's a lack of self-awareness, which, makes it impossible for you to fully comprehend what being grown and being a feminist means. All the same, I'm  hopeful you'll read Chimamanda's books, and listen to her talks and learn from her - there are many women like her who epitomise beauty, self-assuredness and humility, they have a sense of awareness that the power to influence others comes with great responsibility- all of these incredible qualities are what make her and women like her, true feminists.

One girl with courage is a revolution*

I saw a screening of the documentary
'Girl Rising' this evening. I've been meaning to catch screening for months now, but unlike a regular movie which would show in theatres for a set period of time, a screening of Girl Rising requires active participation. Anyone can decide to organise a screening - you can either 'crowd source' by requesting a screening in a theatre near you and letting friends know. If there are enough people - the screening will go ahead. So finally I found out about a screening in Brooklyn and decided to go and see it.

Girl Rising is undoubtedly one of the most engaging documentaries I have ever seen. It features a number of girls of varying ages from all over the world. Their stories are told in beautifully poetic accounts by writers from their countries and narrated by mostly famous people some of whose voices you may recognize. Each story is a snippet of the life of a girl in a developing country where education is a luxury and where at times girls face unspeakable hardships. 

The thread that binds the stories together is the narration that speaks of what it means to be a girl in this world. The statistics, some of which you may have heard, speak of the injustices faced by girls in the world today. Statistics that we so often ignore - and sometimes view as an inconvenient truth that, if acknowledged may force us to do more - engage more and most importantly demand more of ourselves and our elected leaders. The website also publishes these statistics (below) - no doubt as an important reminder of the urgency of the situation and the necessity for things to change.

1.  Globally, 66 million girls out of school. (UNESCO) 
2. 80% of all human trafficking victims are girls. (UNFPA) 
3. There are 33 million fewer girls than boys in primary school (Education First)\ 
4.  75% of AIDS cases in sub-Saharan Africa—the region hardest hit by the disease—are women and girls. (UNAIDS) 
5. In a single year, an estimated 150 million girls are victims of sexual violence. (UNIFEM) 
6.  50% of all the sexual assaults in the world are on girls under 15. (UNFPA) 
7. 14 million girls under 18 will be married this year; 38 thousand today; 13 girls in the last 30 seconds. (UNFPA) 
8. The #1 cause of death for girls 15-19 is childbirth. (World Health Organization) 9. Girls with 8 years of education are 4 times less likely to be married as children. (National Academies Press) 
9.  A child born to a literate mother is 50% more likely to survive past the age of 5. (UNESCO) 
10.  Educated mothers are more than twice as likely to send their children to school. (UNICEF) 
11.  School is not free in over 50 countries. (UNESCO) 
12. A girl on planet earth has a 1 in 4 chance of being born into poverty. (The World Bank) 
13. A girl with an extra year of education can earn 20% more as an adult. (The World Bank) 
14. Women operate a majority of small farms and business in the developing world. (Focus on Five) 
15.  If India enrolled 1% more girls in secondary school, their GDP would rise by $5.5 billion. (CIA World Factbook) (Global Campaign for Education and RESULTS Education Fund) 
16.  There are 600 million girls in the developing world. (The World Bank) 

Most of the stories had a uplifting end or at least the promise of a better future. One however, about a girl in Afghanistan who could not even appear in her story as she feared for her life, moved me to tears beyond anything I could have imagined. As I listened to the account of this girl, no doubt ordinary by the standards in her country, learning of how she was rejected by her mother for being born the wrong sex, then forced into child labour, married off at 11 and thrust into child-bearing shortly after, I couldn't help but sob...and sob loudly. I suddenly felt overwhelmed by a strong sense of sadness and sense of resignation I think. The idea of a child of 11 being impregnated and going through the trauma of child birth - her body, having barely reached puberty was more than I could take. It seemed to me to reflect the plight of so many girls and women. Fortunately her story ended up being one of triumph because of her courage and determination. 

There was a large group of girls, probably aged 10-13 in the cinema and although I didn't think it was appropriate for them to witness all the injustices and unspeakable trauma that children their age, around the world face, I did hope that they would go away more informed, and more determined to make a difference.

It goes without saying that I would recommend this film. As a woman brace yourself. As a woman with a daughter, brace yourself even more because it will rip at your heart, but as the title suggests it is a story of change and optimism. The overriding message is that change is possible with courage and support. We can build the momentum of change by spreading the word, supporting the cause in whatever way we can. We owe it to the future of this world to ensure that every girl finds the courage and gains the support to rise way above her adversities to do and most of all to be something great in spite of all the challenges she faces. 
Please visit http://www.girlrising.com

*the documentary's full title is Girl Rising: One Girl with Courage is a Revolution

Letter to a Woman

Woman,


First let me tell you how passionate I am about you, how much you inspire me, how much I admire your beauty, your intelligence but above all your common sense. I adore that you're practical, that you're a do-er, that no matter what the situation, you're always willing to roll up your sleeves and get on with it. 


I find you stunning in every way imaginable. You may not realise it because you've gained a few pounds, or you've lost your washboard stomach because of the c-section or simply that damn post 30 metabolism, but you are....you're gorgeous, stretch marks and all. The extra pounds are proof that you've lived, you've loved, you've experienced. If you ever forget that make a note of what you did from puberty to now, you'll see why its okay to no longer look like your 16 year old self - these scars are proof that you've fought hard in the battle of life and that you've won. It's no cliche that you get better with time, but not because you work out more or wear more make up but because you've learnt a lot, you've grown wiser, and you now realise how incredibly smart and amazingly gorgeous you are. It's that knowledge and the confidence that comes with it that makes you so alluring.


I know the past year hasn't been easy for you, that you've had to deal with your fair share of adversities but you did it, you dealt with them and you pulled through. I recognise that you're bruised from the lost love, the broken heart, the loss of a best friend, the missed job opportunity and countless other situations that left you feeling a little down-trodden. I want to remind you that the knocks in life are what make you stronger. You've picked yourself up, dusted yourself off, learned yet another lesson and kept on walking. So with each emotional and physical scar, you've become a better version of yourself and that, beautiful lady is no small feat. So what if you didn't see the heartache coming, you let down you guard, you trusted too much, you didn't sell yourself enough at the interview? So what if you made a decision to end a failing business you'd put all your energy into, or left a financially secure job for an uncertain dream? These are simply examples of you living. Taking risks is a part of who you are and if you stopped doing that, then what would be the point of life?


I know that you sometimes forget how much you have to be proud of,  but you should never underestimate how much you do and how many lives you affect. You may never develop the confidence that seems to come so naturally to the opposite sex, I call it blind confidence. That's okay. A little humility goes a long way. Don't forget to remind yourself as often as possible that you can do whatever you set your mind to. You can love again, work again, start something new. Every day is an opportunity for you to reinvent yourself. If you feel defeated, it should be for a fleeting moment only. If you need to be reminded of how capable you are, take a look around at some of the people who've achieved so much, you will see that many of them are simply opportunists, who had so much self-belief that they convinced the rest of us of their greatness. Their real life stories minus the PR spin should remind you that you are just as capable of doing what they've done and more. If you need to be reminded, call me - and I will tell you why I find you so utterly fabulous....when I think about how far you've come, what you've done, when I think about the moments you doubted yourself, thought you'd never be happy alone or without a baby or a career. I marvel at how easy you make it all look.You've defined what happiness means on your own terms. Continue to ignore those who try to put you down, the countless experts who tell you your happiness is dependent on a man or a child or a position on a board of directors. Keep on doing what makes you happy, in whatever form that takes.


One final thing sweetie, surround yourself with people who make you happy, who root for you in this journey called life. It's important that you have friends, be they male or female who make the journey easier and more pleasant. I'm grateful to be one of those friends and look forward to more laughter, more awe and certainly lots more inspiration. 

With all my love,
Your friend

Black woman seeks white man for promotion of marriage among her race

Yes, I know the title of this post sounds absurd doesn't it but that's precisely what a black male author is suggesting in a recently published article in the Wall Street Journal entitled An interracial fix for black marriage. It was forwarded to me by a friend who happens to be black and also happens to be married to a white man. She and I have had this discussion about black women dating outside their race a number of times in particular following advice from her older African-American aunt who pronounced to us, then single black women in our late 20s that when it comes to most black men "they either gay or they in jail".

Now I agree with the core argument made by author, i.e. 'black women should not just limit themselves to black men' but unlike the author I don't believe this will in some way promote marriage within the black community, it's simply put - a numbers game. There are more 'available' black women than there are black men so unless you're willing to share....there just wont be enough to go around. I confess I've never been great at maths but it seems like a no-brainer to me.

Admittedly I haven't always held this view but as I've gotten older and I'd like to think wiser, I changed my tack regarding the dating game in part because I realised that relationships really do not have to be that complicated. I know a number of couples who on paper would seem incompatible because of their different cultural backgrounds but in reality end up having more in common with each other than with their so-called ideal match. Also what makes couples click is far less tangible than a country, ethnicity or a language; if it were simply about finding someone from the same culture as you surely there would be fewer divorces within specific communities. We could all marry the son of our parents' friends and be done with - same educational background, same cultural values etc etc....but ofcourse marriage isn't science. This is where again I disagree with the article's suggestion that black women would do better marrying someone who is as educated and as accomplished as them; in my humble opinion two high powered professionals do not a long-lasting and happy marriage guarantee ....but let's leave that for another discussion.

Back to the whole lack of eligible black men debate that we've heard all too often, It's important to also put this article into context, the statistics cited by the author are particular to the USA though I would concede that they are no doubt similar to those in the UK, however in Africa and I suspect the Caribbean, a successful and eligible black man is far from becoming an endangered species. In countries where black people are not a minority, the question of finding successful black men rarely arises because all the lawyers, doctors, accountants, bankers, politicians are black and I would dare to add, they outnumber the women. So it is a given that if you're educated, you will find a black man who is as, if not more educated than you. Granted if you live in the UK or the USA, this fact doesn't really help you much which is why I agree that as successful black women we should think outside the box but not only to date men from other races but to also date men from other walks of life. Personally I don't see why Love should come with a degree or a six figure salary and I'm sure we can all attest to knowing high-powered couples who look fantastic on paper but are as miserable as hell in real life. The values we should be promoting are mutual respect and love not his and hers mercs and sizeable investment portfolios.

All this being said, I have to add that I do sympathise with black women who find it hard to date outside their race because I think sometimes it's as simple as who you find physically attractive and many simply feel they are not attracted to white men. However I still think we should be careful of convincing ourselves of such absolutes because even though we think we're not attracted to the white men we see everyday, how many of us will turn down an offer from George Clooney or Robin Thicke or Matthew McConaughey or the gorgeous Jason Lewis? My theory is, if we can drool at the fine white men on our screens then surely that means we don't find all white men unattractive.

Last night I watched Something New with Sanaa Lathan who stars opposite some fine white man whose name I forget, and thought it dealt with some interesting questions regarding interracial relationships. In one scene Sanaa Lathan's character complains to her white boyfriend (the hot one) about not being able to talk to him about the pressures she faces as a black woman in a professional environment on a daily basis. She makes reference to the African-American expression 'black tax' which refers to black people having to work twice as hard in order to achieve the same thing as their white counterpart. Something which her boyfriend understandably had never heard of. Although glossed over, for me this raised an interesting issue that could have been further explored, i.e. how do our partners from different cultures deal with similar problems that are real for us but that they will never experience. But while issues of racism and discrimination are real for a number of people from minority groups, it need not be our daily mantra. Yes it may happen, and yes we will find ways to deal with it. If our partner, be he white, black or green is compassionate enough, he will lend an ear while we rant about the boss who double-checked our work simply because...or was quick to point out how 'well' we speak as though this were not expected. I also think that a lack of empathy can happen even within our own race. I have friends who are often frustrated with their husbands (from the same race) because they feel they just need someone to listen while they complain about discrimination issues at work or the supermarket or the kids' school. Yet for many of these men, every problem has to have a solution, this business of just talking for the sake of it, airing your grievances just doesn't make sense to them. As a result they are no more sympathetic to stories of perceived or real discrimination that we just want to 'discuss', than they would be if they were white.

So Mr. Ralph Richard Banks while I agree with your core proposition, i.e. black women please be open to dating outside your race, I don't agree it should be done for the 'Greater Good' unless ofcourse that greater good is You + A loving partner + A happy life.

O is for Oprah!

A friend of mine called last week to tell me she was just sat next to Oprah in a hotel restaurant somewhere in the English countryside. As you can imagine we both screamed down the phone as a million and one questions rolled off my tongue...so what did you say to her? what was she wearing? who was she with? what did she eat? Unfortunately given the casual manner with which Ms Winfrey and her equally high profile friends sat at a table opposite my friend, there was little she could do or say. This was not a 'can I have your autograph' moment because the assumption was that anyone who could afford to stay in this hotel should be accustomed to seeing Superstars of Ms Winfrey's stature. So my friend decided to play along although she admitted to not being able to eat a morcel of food the entire time she was sat just a few yards from one of the richest and most powerful women on the planet.

Although I haven't been a huge fan of Oprah's show since she started dedicating entire episodes to 'comb-overs' and other equally banal topics, when she announced her final season, I felt a little pang of sadness. The first thing that came to mind was the realisation that I would never get to attend a live recording of one of her shows, nor be in an audience that receives a brand new car, or be told by the lady herself 'you're coming to Australia!' I thought back to the books she's recommended and that I've read, from The Poisonwood Bible which I loved loved loved to Life of Pi which baffled me and Say you're one of them which I loathed. I couldn't help but feel like this was the end of an era. As authors like Anita Shreve (remember The Pilot's Wife) know only too well, a mere mention of a book or film by Oprah sends it soaring to the top of a bestseller or box office list. Everything she touches seems to turn to gold. There were even reports that her endorsement of President Obama won him over million votes; I'm sure he's hoping she can work her magic again in 2012.

Over the years, Oprah developed a winning formula of being 'one of us' - whatever problems we had experienced, she'd experienced similar or worse, she would bare her soul, showing us the real Oprah, warts and all. Oftentimes we got to forget our own issues and thought to ourselves 'if Oprah can make it, so can I'. From wheeling the equivalent of the body fat she had lost for an entire audience to gawk at, no doubt in disgust, to revealing herself make-up free  - uneven skin tone, blotches and all. How can anyone not relate to someone so brutally honest about her numerous flaws? Oprah has cried more times than we care to remember and the majority of us loved her for it; with each painful revelation, she gained more and more adoring fans.

Oprah is one of those people I admire for what they've achieved and for how much they give back but do not necessarily understand or agree with the methods they employ. Coming from a culture where we are taught not to air our dirty laundry in public, I'm perhaps more reluctant than most to bare my soul even to people I know let alone complete strangers but then again I realise I am not a public figure known by a single name.  I also find her approach a little vain at times; since Oprah started her magazine O, in 2004, she has graced every single cover. I can't help but find that a little strange at the very least and perhaps it's the American in her that is completely at ease with celebrating her own success month after month for 7 years and counting and I readily admit it may be the British in me that is uneasy with excessive self-praise. I also recognise that her motivation for doing this may be simply because she is the inspiration and the aspiration that her audience need to see; perhaps Oprah reminds them every day of what is possible.

It is impossible to dispute that Oprah is a phenomenon. She is the original rags to riches poster girl; she came from nothing to achieve so much and constantly gives back to communities all over the world. As easy as it would be to hate her for being so obscenely wealthy, we can't help but love her because every so often she's shared that wealth with us. I love the fact that she has managed to reach so many people - especially the often overlooked hard working middle class American who may have a job that covers the bills, if only just, yet is grateful for small miracles like a tax rebate or big ones like Oprah paying their mortgage for a year. You get the impression that beyond the publicity, she really wants to impart something to her fans, and for the most part it's something intangible, it's less about the free gifts and more about the life lessons.

Another close friend and fan recently told me about Oprah's Masterclass series which runs on her newly launched television network OWN  and features people like Maya Angelou, Diane Sawyer, Simon Cowell, Sidney Poitier, and Jay Z talking about their lives and what brought them to where they are - how they acheived 'greatness' if you will. In the pilot, Maya Angelou says "When you get, Give, when you learn, Teach" and this seems to sum up what Oprah has always strived to achieve. She is fully cognisant of how blessed she is and how important it is for her to give back, be it her wealth (in 2009 she donated $40 million to worthwhile causes all over the world), or her influence (she continues to support artists, products and causes that she believes in) or her belief in the Greater Good. She is clearly one of a kind and I'm certain if there were more billionaires with hearts as big as Oprah's, the world would be a much easier place to live in.

Watch the Masterclass episodes on Youtube or here http://www.oprah.com/own-master-class/Oprah-Presents-Master-Class

If I see one more ‘woe is the single woman’ article…..

I’ve just read three articles dealing with the woes of being a single woman, the first written by a single woman who spends the entire article talking about how much of an over-achiever she is, apparently with the pedigree of an Arabian thoroughbred, only to finish pathetically dreaming of a ‘found glass slipper’ and a kiss to awake her from her slumber, dreams that apparently get her through life’s drudgery.


Article no 2 is written by an expert in getting married, having done it (albeit unsuccessfully) three times, she feels qualified to tell single women what they’re doing wrong. Essentially, it’s all about changing who you are so you can achieve the wonderful state of matrimony.

The final which I’ll admit I couldn’t bear to finish reading was about the lack of single men in New York but again the crux of the argument was that you dear single female reader are the problem….the sole reason why you are still unhappily single.

First of all let me say that I’m not single but I’m hoping you’ll be willing to hear me out before making a decision about my credibility on the issue of singledom. It might help you to know that I’m not a ‘smug married’ and I was raised by two, no three single women. First my grandmother, then my aunt and finally my mother. All formidable women who just got on with the business of life and raising children with the help of their extended family

Now, I don’t know exactly where it started but some, no make that a lot of women have managed to convince themselves that being single is some kind of a curse. Perhaps a male-dominated society has been telling them this for so long that they’re starting to believe it. Or maybe it’s their smug married female friends who are often so miserable in their own lives that they like to pretend they are somehow better off. Trust me they’re not!

I know I’m not saying anything new but I feel that it needs to be said on this 8th day of March 2011, International Women’s day – Ladies you can be single and happy!!! There are good marriages and bad marriages, likewise single life can be fulfilling or it can be lonely as hell. The advantage is that as a singleton you get to choose whether you’ll lead a life that makes you happy whereas to be married and happy depends on your spouse not being an arsehole!

While I enjoy being married, I recognise that it’s not for everyone. Marriage is an institution that requires an enormous amount of sacrifice/compromise and in my experience and those of my friends, the wife is the one who does most of the compromising/sacrificing. There are no doubt exceptions to the rule but the fact that a majority of women have to give up their surname and identity to take on their husbands should already ring alarm bells that ‘ain’t nothing equal about this set-up’. Also it may be as a result of our disposition as women, and again I speak for myself and the 80 or so married women I know, but we tend to just get on with what needs to be done and that ends up meaning doing everything ourselves. We become primary carers of our children, which often means professional compromise; we take on the lion share of the housework and we comport ourselves in public like ‘married women’. This means most of us lose the male friends we once had because we are acutely aware of what is expected of us as ‘wives’. Our husbands on the other hand have flourishing careers, supportive wives, cared-for children and homes that they can happily come back to at the end of a long day at work followed by nights hanging with the boys or girls. For all intents and purposes there is nothing, other than the ring that would suggest that their status has changed.
Before you get the picture of a gloom and doom marriage, let me attempt to qualify this though by saying what you give up on the one hand you gain on the other. There’s the wonderful feeling of being with the man you love (I’m making an assumption here of course that people marry for love); marriage also means someone to have sex with when you choose and how you choose, with or without the end result of children and last but by no means least companionship.

As a single woman the greatest benefit is freedom, to do, to be, to go without having to answer to anyone and although society would have us believe that women are incapable of enjoying sexual freedom apparently because of some hormone called oxytocin , I can say with absolute certainty that this is not true for every woman. Admittedly not everyone is liberated enough to pursue or enjoy sex outside of a committed relationship, those who do, do exist and are increasing in numbers so long live the female sexual revolution! Being single also means absolute selfishness, taking care of numero uno, guilt-free shopping and countless hours beautifying yourself without fear of being judged by a hardworking husband/breadwinner.

Granted we’ve seen enough Hollywood chick flicks and read enough ‘self-help’ articles to be able to list the drawbacks of being a single woman and even name the films that illustrate them; from ‘27 dresses’ to ‘The Back up Plan’, ‘He’s just not that into you’, and who can forget the dreadful ‘The Ugly Truth’. The gamut includes the date dilemma for a friend’s wedding, the realisation that all your friends are settling down, the desire to get pregnant and of course good ole plain loneliness. Without wishing to trivialise these issues, I think that the anxieties that come from them are for the most part self-inflicted.

We can choose to be happy and single. We can choose to go to a wedding alone or with a friend, male or female. Likewise we can decide to have children outside of wedlock or to adopt and finally why not opt out of loneliness? We can choose not to be lonely with or without a partner. Why allow society to define what happiness means for you when we are all so different? In fact I’m convinced that it’s all a ploy by men to lure us into marriage by convincing us that we want it more than they do….when in actual fact, they need it far more than we do. Single women need to take what their married peers say with a pinch of salt, yes of course they’re happy some of the time but then so are you! The rest of the time you struggle with various issues ranging from professional to personal. They likewise struggle with issues of inadequacy….am I sexy enough? Is he looking at other women? Are my children happy/well-balanced? We all have our issues….'local and global’ as a friend would say so let’s all stop pretending that marriage provides some sort of a catch-all solution.

There are times when I refer to myself as a single woman, partly because I forget that I’m married, partly because I think my subconscious is trying to preserve my identity in this ‘institution’. I love being married because I’m with the man I love but I wouldn’t chose marriage just for the sake of it and I sincerely doubt I would do it again with someone else.

No doubt being single comes with difficulties and the grass is always going to appear greener on the other side but from someone who is on the other side, let me assure you that it isn’t. No matter how ‘loved up’ you are, marriage is hard work and a constant battle of wills.

By all means aspire to it if that’s what you want but it helps to know that there are women like my mother, aunt and late grandmother, who were/are perfectly happy single and had/have very fulfilled lives.

Wouldn’t it be a testament to how far we’ve come as women to have more and more women happily embrace being single and telling the self-styled relationship gurus to stick their ‘how to get married in 30 days’ advice where the sun doesn’t shine?

Today, I’ve decided to raise a glass to my fabulous single female friends – long and happily may you live!!!!

The angry black woman

I watched a film called 'Not easily broken' with Taraji P Henson and Morris Chestnut and was taken aback by how unpleasant Taraji's character was. As the wife of the handsome, sweet-tempered Mr Chestnut, she spent her time either shouting, no make that shrieking, nagging or rolling her eyes. It was horrible to watch and got me asking the question - is this stereotype of an angry black woman a reality?


I recall quite vividly when the US media tried depict Michelle Obama as another bitter angry black woman who would end up holding her husband back because she couldn't hold her tongue. It was infuriating to watch especially when the despicable Fox News (where the word news is used very loosely), repeated their racist and misogynistic slander suggesting that she was this way because all black women are angry with the exception - they conceded - of Oprah. It was clear as day that there was nothing bitter nor aggressive about the stunning, incredibly smart and supportive Mrs Obama, yet the Republican-backed media did their utmost to sell us an image of a angry black woman, who was racist to boot. Fortunately they didn't succeed in their smear campaign.

But that was then, this is now and this film is based on a novel by Bishop T.D Jakes so try as I might, I cannot find a motive for him wanting to portray black women in a negative light while at the same time portraying black men and white women in a starkly different and positive light. Aside from looking too handsome for his own good, Morris Chestnut is an incredible husband, supportive, caring and hard working. The only white female character in the film is a single mother who dotes on her son and has a positive outlook towards life; in contrast to the black women she is down to earth, kind and thoughtful. Aside from the main female character, there is the mother-in-law who is yet another angry black woman who has nothing nice to say about her ex husband as well as the character of the black female friend who confesses to infidelity and in the same breath suggests fighting any woman who goes after her friend’s man. So in a nutshell we learn that black women are either angry, bitter or aggressive.

Having seen such portrayals time and again, I’m left asking the question - are there really women like that out there? I mean don't get me wrong, I can throw a tantrum or two like the best of them especially when the dishes you promised to wash haven't been washed, the creaky door is still creaking two months after I asked you to fix it and even worse, you show up at midnight having forgotten to tell me you were going for drinks after work. I suspect anyone would lose their temper in such circumstances, be they white, black or yellow. Aside from that I think I'm quite even-tempered and when I think of my friends and family, I cannot find a single one who fits the bill of this angry 'for no apparent reason' black woman.

One of the reasons given in the film for the character's bitchiness, let's just call it by its proper name now, was that she had not been taught how to love by her mother who had an abusive husband who left her angry and bitter about men in general. Like so many women in happy balanced relationships, I was raised by a single woman who taught me to love and respect men starting with my father. I guess the angry mother raising an angry daughter being angry at men may simply not be my reality so I shouldn’t discount the existence of such women. Yet it seems a little hard to believe that a black woman or any woman for that matter will do everything to sabotage her relationship with a near perfect man for no apparent reason which is precisely what this woman does. The man is hard working, though not as successful as she is, he loves and respects her and cannot wait to have children with her and she belittles him, refuses to sleep with him and shows a completely lack of respect at every given opportunity. I mean you'd have to be pretty self-destructive in an age where the pickings are slim and getting slimmer by the day to scoff at a near enough perfect man.

I will stand corrected if someone gives me an example or two of black women who are angry for no apparent reason and live each day this way but I still think this stereotype is a misogynistic and racist myth which sets out to portray us as irrational beings with a chip on our shoulder and a grudge at life. That is not me, nor the beautiful, loving, caring and often selfless women I know as friends and family.