Miss Thengeduze Cash and Carry.

I won my first beauty pageant (by mistake) when I was 5 years old. It was Dezember and every young Immaculate, Perseverence and Delicate was entering "Miss Thengeduze Cash and Carry" which meant that I too had to enter if I wanted to secure my playground social status. My mother opposed the idea like Chomee does clothes, she didn't have money to relax my frizzy 'fro and, apparently, only girls with relaxed hair enter beauty pageants but I entered, regardless of my k-word hair.
A few days later the whole village gathered under a two-pole tent while the other contestant's and I got ready inside the shop, Miss Thengeduze Cash and carry was about to begin! My nerves were under control until Magistrate's mom asked me "why are you wearing your Sunday dress? The theme is costume!" and indeed when I looked around all the other girls were clad in swimming costumes of the latest styles and the brightest neon colours. My horror at that moment couldn't even be equated to the world's most premature ejaculation! I was close to pulling out when the Nonhle Thema in me told me to model in my sunday panty. And i did. I shoved the excess full-panty fabric into the crack of my blackgirl ass to make it look like a whitegirl thong. I walked into the tent with Connie Ferguson's confidence, swaying my hips and sticking out my bare chest for the excited crowd! "MODELA MODELA". I spanked my butt cheek, snapped my fingers and turned around, smiling from fake beauty spot to fake beauty spot. I was releived until I found out there was a questions section where Malum' Meshack {owner of Thengeduze Cash and Carry} would ask us random questions. I didn't like speaking in front of lots of people and I certainly didn't like talking to MEN so when Malum Meshack asked me what i wanted to be when i grew up, instead of saying "madam", I said what my favourite soapie actress used to say to men who spoke to her. "who do you think you are? How dare you!", I replied in English and the crowd went MAD! Stokvel ladies were hululating while the church ladies fainted! Taxi drivers started fighting with each other in joy! "Nondindwa can speak English! Nondindwa can speak English!". People were excited by the fact that a 5 year old Blackgirl could utter a few English words, even if they were severely out of context, even if she didn't know what they meant, the fact that she said it in English when all the other girls spoke isiZulu was enough reason to crown her Miss Thengeduze Cash and Carry! I went home with a brand new electrical Iron and a box of Jam Alley chocolate bars. Soon the Gospel of the English-speaking blackgirl reached the neighbouring villages and they invited me to compete in their pageants. I went on to win Miss Asiduri Trading Store, Miss foot-sack tuck shop, Miss Fundanawe Creche and many other pageants by uttering the same English words. I was celebrated for speaking a language whose words I did not understand and whose history I did not know. I was never applauded for my excellent isiZulu, only English matterd. Even today, I struggle to associate my own language with sophistication and intelligence and that beauty pageant is to blame. The seeds of self-hate and inferiority were planted in me and now they have grown into a vicious thornbush that pricks me everytime I try to destroy it. It's the same with South Africa, the seeds of self-hate and inferiority were planted over 300 years ago in the minds of blackgirls and the thornbush is still alive. And growing. Are we brave enough to cut ourselves in the process of trying to uproot it? Are we brave enough?

Anna Wintour has a rival!

Her style is what I live for right now!! like, uyangichaza losisi!!!! Zanele Magwaza Msibi you are the ultimate blackgirl style icon!! My vagia vibrates with inspiration everytime I see you at a political rally with your hurr did and your nails dick long!!! Michelle Obama can go lock herself in the kitchen.

Queen Khabonina

I love Khabonina vele!!! She is my Oprah, my ultimate role Modella!! She is the epitome of vaginal consciousness!!! PONYO!

Summertime Bazala

It is the first of september, ke Summertime Bazala! For a day, forget about Malema and the political dilemma. Forget about the strikes, forget about Gaddafi, forget about Nationalisation and all that crap in the political arena! Forget about your neglected vagina and your quantum desires and wear that t-shirt that says "siyabangena!". It is summertime (spring if you are white, mzala)! It is time replace that heavy polyester trench coat from small street with a lighter polyester sequinned mini-dress from small street. It is time to trade in your 8 layer, 22 inch red weave for something a little shorter and cooler, a red razor-cut with blue highlights perhaps? Or maybe even a Khethiwe-esque afro or a Sharon style s-curl? Whatever fondles your groin, Blackgirl, the summertime is yours! Close that summer magazine with an article on "how to starve yourself for the perfect bikini body" and go out into the summertime madness! Wear your silver, cellulite exposing, bum shorts with your shiny gold bikini top and go to the carwash! Wash those quantums in all your half-naked glory! Let the African sun give your smooth cleavage a "lamza"! Let you testicles dance in the summer breeze, Blackman. Burn your worries and your blackgirl problems in the 'mbaula' that kept your toes warm in the winter. It is a new day, a new weave, today! The taxi rank is in disarray!
So Mzala forget about it all, just for today.