WaleAyo's Musings

In the wake of the recent sexual assault scandal that  rocked the world, I have been thinking a lot about what beauty means to me. So often we find ourselves looking in the mirror and condemning something we have worn or an hairstyle we have made because we think it won't be beautiful to other people, but really who makes these rules? Who decides what is and is not beautiful. Recently while watching one of my favourite shows, The Real, Loni, one of the hosts, commented on this. She was in tears over how brutal 'women' had been to a friend who wore what she could afford to a red carpet. She continued, saying, that if she were to remove her own wig on the show, a lot of people would laugh at her saying she was not beautiful. It got me thinking about what we females do to support this patriarchal, sexualized society. We feed the hate with our comments on who wore it best, why they should have worn it a certain way; instead of focusing on what lies inside. How you dress, ...

Moyo was not alright not after feeling like her own best friends betrayed her. " How could Jola have befriended Demi? She knew she liked him and she still went ahead with it? Even after going off on her for her feelings? And Moyo just kept mute? Some friends they were!". She thought as she moved towards the school farm for some quiet. The school farm at Welsley High was a good distance from school and was quite lonely. She ignored the voice that asked her to turn back.  She knew it was early anyway and the farm will be deserted; she could have some time to herself there before having to be friendly to other people. She checked her watch 7:05 "Oh well, we're always early anyway. I better get some peace and quiet here" She thought she was alone until she hears the ruffling of grass. She looks up and sees a familiar face, her senior colleague walking away from her and further into the farm. She calls out to him with a smile "Oh hey, Sam deary, h...

Over the course of a few months I have been quiet about a growing movement that seems to have come to stay perhaps because it hits close to home. What exactly am I going on about? You might wonder. Well unless you've been living under a rock, you must have heard of the #MeToo movement that recently rocked Hollywood and exposed the vicious arrogance of a patriarchal society. The one that quite frankly we all live in. Really, I have chosen not to talk about it because it hurts. When I hear these stories and I see these women, my heart breaks for them; I share their pain. I find myself thinking, it could have been me. It hurts to know that for so long females have been pushed aside, beaten down and shamed for telling the truth, for daring to even try. And the scary part? Almost every female has a story to tell where they've been too scared, too ashamed to speak up. And why? Just because they wanted to make their dreams come true, just because they wanted to feed their famil...

So I happened on this very interesting picture on Twitter. It was a picture of three boys playing cars. One of them had to bend down and carry the other two, almost like the body of the car. Of course when I saw it, I didn't think it was a big deal, I mean boys play all the time. Then someone commented on it, that it was a true representation of friendship. Friendship involves sacrifice, it involves someone being willing to "carry" the other person and do it with smiles. I fell in love with that comment for it described friendship adequately. Last year, I ended the year letting go, of pain, feelings and people that do not bring me joy but this year, I want to do it differently. I want to appreciate friendships. There are so many types of friendships in the world. Those that build up (the mentors)  those that push you (the adventurer) , those that encourage you (the confidant) those that notice you, those that keep you company ( the filler friend)  but mostly those t...