It’s been quite a week with an unexpected independence cake that had been silently baking in the background while we went about our daily business. One moment we were trudging our accustomed feet to the usual tune of old politics and no change in the foreseeable future and the next we were freely making our distaste known to the powers that thought they would always be.

I’m not attempting to predict anything here but I am pointing out how hope can unite and organise a nation regardless of race, age, gender and creed. Since I started sharing my thoughts on this platform my examples of faith have always come from the existing scriptures that describe it so well until the 18th of November. The events of Saturday the 18th gave me hope like never before and the solidarity that went across borders showed me that little lights joined in harmony can bring nationwide illumination comparable to the blazing sun.

Despise not the day of humble beningings (beginnings..Don’t judge me I had to LOOOOOOL!!)

I designed my first piece of jewellery under a make shift table at Avondale flea market on a very hot  October or November day in 2007. I remember so vividly because I had used up my life savings to go to Botswana with Mai Noku to buy my entry into riches and luxury but ofcourse everyone else was doing the same from groceries to clothes to bedding and other such hot cakes.

As we went to Avondale flea market daily I became more upset at how slowly the riches were turning over and what made it worse was people who always wanted to buy the jewellery I was wearing rather than the jeans for which I had painstakingly acquired a terrible four day flu and fought with the bus driver to stop for a recess (Every Zimbabwean knows this one..when everyone is silent on the bus as if they are ok until the one person points out that this is not o,  then everyone  else chimes in and takes the recess too).

Back to my under-the-table ministry, I loved to collect unique jewellery back then as Miss Shonitae the poet and I loved to go all out whenever I took the stage clad in my own compilation of the jewellery and some choice Bhero Boutique items. This first set of hoops was a flop because I couldn’t get the orange thread to stick to the hoop and make it appear orange (I figured it out a while later and if you visit Dazzle Store I’ll be happy to show you how I overcame that obstacle).

Stay true to your hustle

My brand started off as Signs of Poetry then Rose of Sharon Design House then Humba Couture and now finally Dazzle. That was quite a journey in itself and I remember a time when I personally wrote this poem in silver pen on every recycled paper I used as the backing for my product, “Flowers are made to be fancied but not forgotten, paint your petals, paint your picture” and my tag line was “for the picture You are”.

I discovered the untapped resources of mind power which led me to have the poem printed instead and not too long after that I had changed the poem to “A woman is a poem of Strength, Grace & Immense Beauty, a Flower of Precious Petals and a Picture of Pure Love”.  Dazzle doesn’t have an accompanying poem but I do believe that my finished pieces speak volumes that a few well strung sentences cannot capture. The point I’m trying to make here is that every other person who knows me knows that I’ve been doing this jewellery thing since even my Uni days because I could be seen making efforts in my hustle.

I failed dismally many times trying new things and messing up standard things but the bottom line is that I was known for my trade and my stubborn commitment to it. There is one instance when I gave away all of my beads and tools but not long after that my brother loaned me the funds to get started again and he never accepted that it was a loan because he believed it was his brotherly duty to look out for me and you know what? In a very real sense he got me back up on my feet again and I’ve never let him go without any good thing that is within my reach to give to him.

Be grateful, give thanks in ALL situations

It’s not uncommon for the art inclined child to be viewed as abnormal or likely to waste their life on a pipe dream and that has been me for the better part of my life. There have been times when I have struggled to sit down to hone my skill because I felt there was obviously something better to do than sit with a tray of beads and a needle so finding a husband became my art and I found out quickly that it doesn’t flow as seamlessly as one of my neckpieces.

Until I finally gave my heart to the one forbidden thing I was deeply unhappy and my love projects felt it too but in those moments I could never put my finger on what exactly it was. I’ve had my fair share of rough patches in life but one thing I tried to do even with tears in my eyes was to be grateful that I was still alive in this mess. On many days I could only hold onto the hope that my being alive was for some greater purpose that I couldn’t grasp yet and so I had to hold on until it finally made sense. Thankfully it finally does.

Say to the Righteous it is well

God is in control whether we believe it or not and it is only fitting to pray for the right eyes through which to see the opportunities that lie ahead if we are willing to trade our sorrows for the joy of the Lord.

 

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