Miss Lesego

In love with life.
All things bright and beautiful..and everything else that makes us stronger.

cmykaffir:

It has become embedded in the Batswana people to name the offsprings and award names that reflect or depict the great work of God. Every Setswana name revolves around the deeds or aspirations and plans of the Almighty. When looking at the names (illustrated) you will learn that every one of the names reflects on the happiness, sadness and hope brought upon by God. Each name is a symbol to the parents of what they want to see from you or what your birth meant at that moment in time.

C,X,Q,V,J,Z (these alphabets do not exist in the Setswana vocabulary) U,H,Y( these alphabets do exist however we do not have names that begin with them).

Information provided by: Gaopalelwe Nke | Illustration Gifs by Thandiwe Tshabalala a.k.a CMYKaffir.

(via urbanmosadi)

dynamicafrica:

Xhosa Names & Meanings: The “ABC’s of Xhosa Names” by Thandiwe Tshabalala.

South African Illustrator and incredibly talented young creative Thandiwe Tshabalala recently sent me these awesome gifs highlighting and celebrating beautiful names in her mother tongue of Xhosa.

Here’s what she had to say about her series:

"Way back, when apartheid was taking place in South Africa, parents used to give their kids English names so that white people wouldn’t have to struggle pronouncing African names. Most people born during the times of apartheid were given names like: Knowledge, Margaret, Mavis (which has negative connotations), Innocentia, Innocent, Jeffrey, Gloria…eek..Let me just stop there. However, when black folks got their ‘freedom’ back, they went back to naming their children African/South African names."

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All Africa, All the time.

I love this.

(via young-eastafrican-girl)

Dr. Maya Angelou in Memory of Nelson Mandela

His day is done.

Is done.

The news came on the wings of a wind

Reluctant to carry its burden.

Nelson Mandela’s day is done.

The news, expected and still unwelcome

Reached us in the United States and suddenly

Our world became somber.

Our skies were leadened

His day is done.

We see you, South African people

Standing speechless at the slamming

Of that final door

Through which no traveler returns.

Our spirits reach out to you

Bantu, Zulu, Xhosa, Boer

We think of you

And your Son of Africa,

Your Father

Your One More Wonder of the World.

We send our souls to you

As you reflect upon

Your David armed with

A mere stone facing down

The Mighty Goliath,

Man of strength Gideon,

Emerging triumphant

Although born into the brutal embrace of Apartheid

Scarred by the savage atmosphere of racism,

Unjustly imprisoned

In the bloody maws of South African dungeons.

Would the man survive?

Could the man survive?

His answer strengthened men and women

Around the world.

In the Alamo in San Antonio, TX

On the Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco,

In Chicago’s loop

In New Orleans Mardi Gras

In New York City’s Times Square

We watched as the hope of Africa sprang

Through the prison’s doors

His stupendous heart in tact

His gargantuan will

Hale and hearty

He had not been crippled by brutes

Nor was his passion for the rights

Of human beings

Diminished by twenty-seven years of imprisonment

Even here in America

We felt the cool

Refreshing breeze of freedom

When Nelson Mandela took

The seat of the Presidency

In his Country

Where formally he was not even allowed to vote

We were enlarged by tears of pride

As we saw Nelson Mandela’s

Former prison guards

Invited, courteously, by him to watch

From the front rows

His inauguration.

We saw him accept

The world’s award in Norway

With the grace and gratitude

Of the Solon in Ancient Roman Courts

And the confidence of African Chiefs

From ancient royal stools.

No sun outlasts its sunset

But will rise again

And bring the dawn

Yes, Mandela’s day is done,

Yet we, his inheritors

Will open the gates wider

For reconciliation and we will respond

Generously to the cries

Of the Blacks and Whites,

The Asian, the Hispanic,

The poor who live piteously

On the floor of our planet

He has offered us understanding

We will not withhold forgiveness

Even from those who do not ask

Nelson Mandela’s day is done

We confess it in tearful voices

Yet we lift our own to say

Thank You.

Thank You, Our Gideon.

Thank You, Our David.

Our great courageous man

We will not forget you

We will not dishonor you

We will remember and be glad

That you lived among us

That you taught us

And

That you loved us

All!

darksilenceinsuburbia:

Tatyana Fazlalizadeh.

Stop Telling Women to Smile is an art series by Tatyana Fazlalizadeh. The work attempts to address gender based street harassment by placing drawn portraits of women, composed with captions that speak directly to offenders, outside in public spaces. 

Tatyan Falalizadeh is an illustrator/painter based in Brooklyn, mostly known for her oil paintings. Having recently branched out into public art as a muralist, STWTS was born out of the idea that street art can be an impactful tool for tackling street harassment. 

STWTS started in Brooklyn in the fall of 2012. It is an on-going, travelling series and will gradually include many cities and many women participants. 

Street harassment is a serious issue that affects women world wide. This project takes women’s voices, and faces, and puts them in the street - creating a bold presence for women in an environment where they are so often made to feel uncomfortable and unsafe. 

 Website  Tumblr

(via lufunolookbook)

The beautiful Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie. I have such admiration for this woman.
Finally reading her work has been such a pleasure. By the time I finished reading Half of a Yellow Sun, I was a teary mess. It was such a gripping and compelling book. Americanah was such an incredibble read that I still find myself missing the book and its characters. Yesterday I finished reading Purple Hibiscus and I was not ready for it to end so soon, I wish there were more pages to read and to dwell in.
Because I am now obsessed with Adichie’s writing, I’m going to get myself a copy of The Thing Around Your Neck. I can’t wait! After that I’ll give other authors a chance.

The beautiful Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie. I have such admiration for this woman.

Finally reading her work has been such a pleasure. By the time I finished reading Half of a Yellow Sun, I was a teary mess. It was such a gripping and compelling book. Americanah was such an incredibble read that I still find myself missing the book and its characters. Yesterday I finished reading Purple Hibiscus and I was not ready for it to end so soon, I wish there were more pages to read and to dwell in.

Because I am now obsessed with Adichie’s writing, I’m going to get myself a copy of The Thing Around Your Neck. I can’t wait! After that I’ll give other authors a chance.

Be Nobody’s Darling

Be nobody’s darling;
Be an outcast.
Take the contradictions
Of your life
And wrap around
You like a shawl,
To parry stones
To keep you warm.
Watch the people succumb
To madness
With ample cheer;
Let them look askance at you
And you askance reply.
Be an outcast;
Be pleased to walk alone
(Uncool)
Or line the crowded
River beds
With other impetuous
Fools.

Make a merry gathering
On the bank
Where thousands perished
For brave hurt words
They said.

But be nobody’s darling;
Be an outcast.
Qualified to live
Among your dead.

 Alice Walker

The Road Not Taken

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim
Because it was grassy and wanted wear,
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

Robert Frost
Regality.

Regality.