My post today was going to be a bread recipe. I will share it but I sat here wondering why would anyone care about it today especially other Zimbabweans.
Each time I sit down to share a recipe, I wonder how many people will be able to afford milk or cheese. Do people care about the different ways of making muboora, if they are worried about having water or any other basic need? Or how many people can afford to download my books? Am I adding value to people’s lives? Do I sound privileged and removed from the everyday struggles of the people I grew up with?
My country has been going through this economic “thing” (I honestly don’t know how to define it) for a long time. Depending on where your family lies on the economic scale, life has been difficult for at least 16 years or your whole life. The income inequality is staggering and getting worse. It is especially hard on the mothers with young kids as they try to provide for their families.
I have never done a full post on any of this because I hate politics. It depresses me. Also because I self censor myself, and right now questioning myself if I should even be writing this. A part of me also feels like I am not doing my son any favours by not saying or doing anything to help my country. I ask myself so many times, will he think I am a coward for not saying or doing anything. If I teach him to stand up for himself am I being a hypocrite? Do as I say not as I do? Should he judge me for choosing comfort over sticking out in Zimbabwe?
Truth is, I do not want to answer these questions because I will not like the person in the mirror.
Yet here I am letting you know that I do think about these things even when I do not add my voice to it. I have a voice. I have to remind myself that. I do not know how to express it in this context. I am emotional. Too emotional to be objective.
I have a voice. I have to remind myself that. Click To TweetI know how to create. It is what I do best. It is my hope that in the chaos of life my creations will make you hope, create, and entertained. When I post about a silly recipe when the world is imploding it is not that I do not see the implosion, I just do not know how to express it