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Tuesday, 28 March 2017

Next time we meet, we shall smile



This  post is a tribute to my acting hero and legend, Bab Joe Mafela- allow me to give him my tribute as he is sadly laid to rest this morning. For as long as I remember, “Sdumo” as I often referred to him was the first TV show I ever knew and enjoyed. My father would have all episodes taped on VCR and tapes of all “Sgudis’Nys” episodes were at our disposal in the lounge room divider. I fondly remember sitting on the carpet in front of the TV rewinding on the VCR my favourite parts of the series. I would watch the episodes all day; over and over without ceasing. Sdumo became our everyday lingo and we as a family were in stitches each time we would watch an episode; to the extent where we still to this day use some lines on “Sgudis’Nys” as ways of communicating or as code names or even inside jokes.


On the 19th of March 2017, while browsing the trending news online, I came across a Facebook post shared by a friend extending condolences to the Mafela family and reminiscing on the late legend. This had to be a joke! There was no way in heaven or in hell could the man who was the happy part of my childhood be dead. The man who inspired me to be on television and the man my fathers friends referred to me as because I always knew I wanted to be an actor. I nervously googled the news and to my dismay – trusted publications confirmed the news- shortly after, my actor friends began calling me to inform me on the news- everybody who knows anything about me will tell you how much Bab Joe was a legend to me and sadly my dream of some day meeting him or working with him did not come true.

I feel such a tremendous loss as if I knew him. I am grateful to have had intimate moments in conversation with his former co-stars on various productions I have been working on such as the great Mam Thembi Mtshali-Jones who I mentioned before to be a former  co-star of mine and first guest on my television show and very recently sis Tina Jaxa who worked with him on “Madam and Eve” and in my moments with them, Bab Joe’s aura would magically fill the atmosphere. As tributes continued to pour in for him it slowly began to sink in that my hero was no more and that I would never see him again. I wanted to thank him personally for being my solace and happy place during my childhood, I wanted to thank him for what his concept of “Sgudis’Nys” did for the nation of South Africa; SABC wanted a sitcom that would make black people laugh again. South Africa was in ruins- complete turmoil and my people were filled with pain and despair, there was no laughter but just tears and pools of blood and with the arrival of “Sgudis’Nys” my people could laugh again. 

Memories are too much to document in just one moving tribute but I can’t help but think of the times I got my cousins addicted to Sdumo. We would sit all day in grandma’s lounge in our pyjamas watching and laughing at him, Referring to him as “iMbungulu” and reacting the scenes and dialogue which would leave us in stitches. Tears and smiles all in one go fill my face as I honour my legend- a legend I never met. I guess I was a step closer when moments came full circle when working on a penguin film production that produced “Sgudis’Nys” under the renowned Roberta Durrant who became my executive producer not so long ago. I suppose that was my step closer to my legend and I can firmly say if it hadn’t been for him- I would have never pursued an acting career. He certainly will always have a special place in my heart and will never be forgotten- ever.
Bab Joe, in the choral song Sylvia; “Andisa funi nokuthetha mna. Kaloku namhlanje siyohlukana”. But it ends with the line “Ndlela ntle”. Go well ‘Sdums, siqashi sika Sis May, Mbongolo ka Gogo”. Thank you for the laughs, thank you for healing the nation with your talent, thank you for inspiring me to come pursue my dreams. As my late father would say when departing; “Next time we meet- we shall smile” –Julius Ceaser, Shakespear J

Sunday, 6 November 2016

GOD is inside me





I’m a firm believer that there’s nothing as being ‘Too busy’; you really make time for whatever it is you deem important and a priority, irrespective of how busy life gets. I fell into this trap, I must admit. My silence has been affected by me allowing my schedule to affect my ultimate favourite past time; blogging. I do apologize for the silence and promise to attempt to change, I will try :) 
 
Almost 5 months ago my agent contacted me regarding the musical the ‘the colour purple’; she told me the producer of the the broadway musical was keen on seeing me and a few other young hopeful actors in Cape Town for an audition. Initially the show was only going to audition in Johannesburg and Pretoria in forms of open castings but in Cape Town decided to have close auditions for a selected few, at their discretion. I could not believe that out of all the male actors that resided in the Cape, I was one of the 25 odd male actors selected to go and audition. I was even more shocked to find that the renowned director and theatre veteran, Janice Honeyman was going to be part of the panel and would serve as the director of the production. This surely was God ordained. I dreamt for years to be under her direction as a young actor.
I was adamant that this surely was God moving me into a greater and brighter direction. It was a sign. I knew that I had what it took, surely. I also believed I’d give it my best shot and in my mind I believed I’d get it, but then again, that’s how we actors think- we never really go into an audition with the thought of doing badly and not getting the job. Part of my responsibility as an actor is to do research on a role and the particular production I want to audition for, I listened to all the songs in the broadway musical and read the novel on which the show is based on. I was also ecstatic about the production because I read the book when I was in primary school and my two favourite artists; Oprah Winfrey and Whoopi Goldberg were starring actors on the film adaptation of the production. Everything was just a sign. Everything was making me believe that this was truly the next ‘big thing’ for me as a young aspiring artist. 

On the evening before the audition I sat listening to the songs again on my laptop via YouTube and was drawn to the theme song of the broadway musical, the melody was remarkable and the words were amazing. The opening line of the theme song is ‘God is inside me and everyone else’. I was sold to this song, I listened to it repeatedly and played it in my sleep. It just filled the spaces and empty voids in my heart like cushions. It healed me in so many ways, I don’t think I can quite articulate in words how the song made me feel.  I spent months prepping for the audition and on the day of the big day, I lost it. I saw many successful actors as I usually do at the castings I attend, this time a big sense of insecurity of my abilities as an actor came rushing in. I began feeling heavy intimidation and kept comparing myself with all the successful Theatre performers and actors present. They all sat in groups, they all knew one another and I was the outsider, the ‘newbee ‘that no one knew and would talk to, I felt small, tiny to be exact. Janice Honeyman and the producers walked past me and I felt worse. I wanted to run, to run as fast as the wind could blow me. I was doomed.
We entered the audition room in groups and I messed it up. My voice was shaking, my head was spinning and my entire body was  ‘going through the most’. I knew I messed it up and it was no surprise when they announced who made it to the next round and I was one of the actors on the other side of the room who were told they did not make it. My heart was broken. I could feel a heavy lump in my throat. I could feel tears waiting to stream down my cheeks. I was distraught. 

I remember waiting in the renowned upstairs area of the Baxter Theater  for my cab driver who told me he’d be two hours late because of heavy traffic (which made it worse) talking on the phone with one of my close friends Mpume who I often talk to when the world literally feels against me, and its in that very moment I realized the biggest lesson of this entire audition that ‘GOD IS INSIDE ME!’ Just like the opening line of the theme song of this very musical. It became so personal for me. It wasn’t just a beautifully written song but was a testimony on its own. 

I messed up an entire audition because I failed to realize that God was inside me and instead focussed on bad energy and nonsensical thoughts of feeling inadequate and insecure. It never dawned on me that it said something about me as an actor to be requested to audition for the country’s  biggest directors and producers, with some of the country’s best actors on one of the world’s biggest productions- The colour purple. It didn’t dawn on me for even a slight split second that God was inside me. He was present; he led me there to begin with.  A few weeks later I was at the same Baxter Theater recording the first episode of what I now call my successful attempt of having a talk show with my icon and much loved veteran actress, Thembi Mtshali-Jones. I sat through that interview, marvelling at the reality that truly God was inside me.
Never miss a moment by doubting that God is inside you. Always understand that you are on earth for a bigger and better purpose and in the words of Oprah; “God can dream a bigger dream than you could ever dream for yourself”. He has amazing plans for each and every-one of us. Don’t miss any moment because of fear, self-doubt or intimidation. I had to learn this the hard way, but I finally grasped it, that GOD IS INSIDE ME.

Tuesday, 3 May 2016

When life gives you lemons, make delicious lemonade

And a very good day

It has been a while. Make that a LONG while. I know y'all missed me. It's okay, I'm here now. Fear not, calm thy self, you are not neglected. I figured I let my last post subside and give people room to breathe, I'd acquired many enemies and a lot of unfollowers but hey, I've said it before... These are my views and I am not responsible for how you receive them, I can only account for what I say. With that said, happy new year(belated) I trust 2016 has been treating you all well and that you're on your way to your dreams and destiny.

2016 has offered us some scandals already; from break-ups in the celebrity scenes, fashion drama's, twitter wars and huge political drama's occurring in South African parliament. Just like everyone else, I have had my fair share to deal with thus far, most of it good things and the lessons have been meaningful and life changing. I never post without purpose, so rest assured, I aim to make sure that this blog serves purpose in each and everyone's lives who reads this blog post. The Internet has been in desperate need of repairs over the past week with Beyonce's bombshell release of her sixth album, lemonade. And as the die hard B fan, I took to tidal to listen to the album. And, I was blown away by the lyrics until I realized that the lyrics were not just there for rhyming purposes, they posses a story. Jay cheated. He did, didn't he? And sure, y'all can claim it is a publicity stunt but where there is smoke, there is fire. He cheated. And they ran with it. In their favour perhaps many could argue but I completely disagree with the notion of rejecting the album as myth.


Yet it is also vital to know that there's a greater story portrayed in the album. It is an album portraying daily stuggles of black women. B is quoted in saying "The most disrespected woman in America is the black woman". Although the center of attention has been her husbands alleged fidelity, there is a bigger story. The story is that life happens. The lover you once trusted and perceived angelic could easily be the devil you've been rebuking daily in your daily prayers. Women emancipation. Heart break. Deception and pain. Unbearable pain. Depression. Things society has made us shun. It is almost unattractive to post on such issues on social media. We'd much rather check-in at a fancy restaurant or portray a make-belief fairy tale life style that isn't there. Easily the toughest lesson this year has taught me is, it is foolish to put faith on a human being. The Bible tells us this, and it is so true. A human is easily the most dangerous specie to ever live. They have the ability to kill you with a smile on their faces. Make you believe the ugliest lies smothered in the prettiest face. That's life. Those are just some of the lemons life throws at us.

Often so sour and unbearable to savor causing illnesses such as depression which in many black communities is shunned and ridiculed to be a "white girl problem" which is shear ignorance and lies. Depression is real. And the sad thing is that it is usually caused by humans on other humans. Talk about loving thy neighbor as loving yourself? How can one hurt themselves? It all boils down to people being selfish. Thinking about themselves. Such is life. Such are the lemons, often rotten lemons thrown at us on a daily. But the victim mentality needs to be conquered. A victor mentality needs to be embraced. If you're an abusive relationship, leave it! If you're being made a fool, cross the street, if the same people keep hurting you, shout "BYE FELICIA" and move on. That's how lemonade is done. Squeeze the life out of those toxic situations, squeezing only the positive that comes with them and you will see how sweet life can be. Heck, if Beyonce could do it, so can you. She took a painful experience and she's balling in cash as we speak, even Becky with the good hair" don't phase her no more. She's too busy counting her dollars. There is light at the end of this tunnel. There is potential in your lemons. Seek deliverance or help, so that you can testify that when life gives you lemons, MAKE DELICIOUS LEMONADE. http://www.organicfacts.net/wp-content/uploads/2013/05/Lemon3.jpg

Saturday, 24 October 2015

Fees have fallen now respect to rise!



This is to all those who have taken the stance of violence by either their acts or violation towards the law when approaching the #FeesMustFall campaign; particularly my fellow students who might I add, my compassion and prayers have been with during their efforts to be heard by the government who felt that, those of us who didn’t dodge rubber bullets and tear gas were traitors to the struggle. Regardless of how many people may view this letter, I refuse to be a victim because I happen to have a different view . You see, this often becomes the case in South Africa. When your opinion especially if you are black disagreeing with the larger population of other blacks, you instantly become prey for scrutiny, harassment and degradation. I’ve seen this with Metro FM radio DJ, Idols judge and musician, Unathi Msengana who dared to voice out the ignorance of a black student attending Stellenbosch University who failed to read the language policy clause in the #Luister campaign recently launched by numerous people of colour at the University who felt being taught predominantly in Afrikaans was wrong and a violation of their human right; education. Black South Africans couldn’t believe the “audacity” of Unathi, a black woman, A Xhosa woman to be exact who dared to disagree with other blacks. They failed to see the validity of her opinion but attacked her based on the fact that she was a black woman supposedly disagreeing with another black woman. The debate ceased to be about the #Luister campaign but shifted to be about black on black “hate”, Which was ludicrous because Unathi was posing a valid question, a question that sought to understand whether or not this girl black or not, had read the language policy before calling the University racist. I have observed that this is the case with me with this #FeesMustFall campaign launched by South African students after Wits began revolution on their fee increment for 2016 tuition fees. 



The initiative went even bigger when UCT began the rant on the unfairness of the fee increment and tuition fees. The fee increment that sat at 6%. As a University student, black and proudly so to be exact ,I was moved. I was moved because a 6% leap is a huge one that has many implications on my very own parent, a single parent and widow. I accept that I grew up rather privileged and that I had and continue to receive a good education. I accept that I do not know poverty. I accept that the government was wrong in implementing such a huge increment and I accept that we as students have every reason and right to be upset to the extent of taking action in injustices that we face. I do not dispute that Black students are at a rather disadvantaged margin economically because of the Apartheid era. I accept that we have rights, education being one of them. Moreover I accept that the #FeesMustFall campaign was just. So it startles me that anyone with a brain would even question if this initiative moves me at all. It startles me that I have and continue to be receiving hate via status updates and conversations of political engagement in the past few days because I choose a non-violent approach. Because I refuse to be a hooligan by throwing stones at police and expect them not to retaliate. By refusing to vandalize that poor mans fruit stand at our student centre, by refusing to break into the cafeteria, taking money from the counter, taking products that have been placed to be sold, breaking windows in our student centre, using graffiti to vandalize a million rand building and other prestigious buildings on my campus. I am startled that I am insulted because I refuse to drop my study week to further my studies and obtain a qualification to go and sit on the road to obstruct incoming traffic in one of Cape Town’s busiest roads. I am seen as a failure to other zealous students because I refuse to be choked by tear gas and I refuse to be hurt by rubber bullets in the name of fees falling.
It startles me that my concerns of dinning hall outlets and all the other shops have been closed because students are threatening the lives of those operating them, who have nothing to do with the anger of our cause has been seen petty. Furthermore, students cannot even get a loaf of bread or airtime, basic necessities of our daily lives. What humours me is this, the violent students claim to be fighting for us, those who are not resorting in violence yet they are infringing on our rights. 

The right to a basic need like food. We cannot eat because dinning halls have been closed. We cannot communicate with loved ones because shops are closed to get airtime. They are closed because the heroic comrades of 2015 have decided to violate, threaten and scare them into closing for business. Those employed by these businesses do not receive their daily wage, their children suffer, the children that are allegedly being fought for, how smart. Moreover, the zealous class of 2015 claim they have the interests of all students at heart, yet they are banging on their doors during their study week, forcing them to go and break windows, sit on the road, risking their lives and their future. When they fail, they will not be anywhere to be found. Sad.  It scared me to establish that TERTIARY education learners, FUTURE ACADEMICS, DEGREE holders and recipients had such a shallow way of thinking. I would lose my breath trying to explain to someone that the act of sitting on a road, obstructing traffic is an offense, legal to a high extant. isn’t right. The road is for motorists to utilize. The zealous comrades wouldn’t have it, claiming police just attacked them for nothing. When police are employed to protect, prevent commotion, maintain order, maintain the legal justice and protect the state. When they fail to do so we will be the first to call them useless. It is worse when police had warned students to vacate the roads and gave them a warning and when they did not comply they took action. You see, that is the problem.
The problem lies in the fact that the youth of today label themselves as victims of everything. They have this mad mentality of thinking the world owes them. They can do everything and anything because they have rights. They forget that these rights have responsibilities. Truth be told, 90% of the march demonstrations had very irresponsible measures. Students conducted themselves very shamefully. It is sad that parents give up everything for their children to come to tertiary but the children decide to conduct themselves wrongfully. The cause is right and just I believe and emphasize but the actions involved are sickening. They are wrong, yes they are and we all damn well know it. It boggles me to establish that we all claimed we were fighting for one thing when in actual fact we weren’t. #FeesMustFall became something else especially on my campus. It started becoming shop prices must fall, res must accept everyone campaign, free education, long lectures must fall, student card prices must fall , SRC must fall and the absurd list goes on… I established this at a rally I attended where students voiced out their grievances and I realized we are not all fighting for one thing. Yet we have the audacity to compare ourselves to the class of 1976, who had one objective and one voice. Not us honey, not us. Others want their selfish desires to fall from the sky. Where is money going to fall from to educate YOUR UNBORN children?? Who’s fault is it that you grew up in the bundus?? I have an opinion on our president but let me defend Nxamalala this once; it isn’t his fault! And yes, I am sorry that you grew up disadvantaged, I am sorry that you feel dinning hall prices are too high, I am so sorry that you grew up in a rural area but that isn’t the South African government’s fault. It is virtually impossible to educate the entire population free. Impossible.  I was in stitches when I realized that students were STILL unhappy when our president announced 0% increment. Suddenly it wasn’t about 6% but rather free education. Wasn’t the fight for the fall of 6?%? now suddenly it changes to free education. It is even worse when you have grown individuals who encourage children who do not know better to go provoke authorities like police while they hide behind their office desks and computers. I was revolted. 

Then, as our vice chancellor came to address us yesterday, it dawned on me that we are not legends as we assume we are. The shear disrespect shown to him was sickening. We call ourselves comrades of the struggle yet we lack respect. Respect might I add was something our hero’s like Nelson Mandela, Walter Sisulu, Oliver Tambo and Chris Hani had. They had respect for themselves and in the manner they conducted themselves and that is why their cause together with other great comrades succeeded. Our Deputy Vice Chancellor (DVC)  had taken time to address us, assuring us of his continued support to our movement, assuring us of his support, he even left the national meeting just to address us, and we treat him like yesterday’s rubbish? A family man with integrity, an academic with esteemed stature, began to shake like a nervous four year old at an oratory competition because of rowdy and unruly students who insulted him. I was saddened., appalled and disgusted. How can we even compare ourselves to 1976 heroes? What right do we have to disrespect an elder. An elder who is on our side moreover. Is that how our parents raised us Africans? To disregard elders? Did your parents teach you to act like hooligans or rather to stand for what is right? Those are two different things. I was at two rallies in solidarity with the campaign. I did this when and only there was no unruly behaviour. It is possible to fight a cause with dignity. 

Take a look at the heroic women of 1956 who marched to the Union buildings on August 9th in dignity, standing for what was right. They did not act unruly. They were dignified with their petition in hand and marched in one accord. Today we remember and honour them in South Africa, a public holiday is in their honour, womans day. You see, such causes I will gladly rant and rave about, we do not need to behave like uncultured animals to prove that we are born frees who are proud and zealous. The moment you do not comply with majority you are called a snob, a “friend of Jannie”, a sellout. You become the worst case scenario. A misfit. That is outright bullying! Because some one does not believe in what you believe in gives you no right, no right at all to swear and insult them. I was mortified to receive a tagged post from a former facebook friend who had issues with my stance on the matter at hand, she tagged me in some girls status who I assume is from KZN at a university there who swore and insulted us and called us all uncultured names. Isn’t she infringing on our rights? Human dignity? A belief?. Shame on her and all those who have joined in her cause.
Listen, it is possible to fight a cause with dignity. It is possible to refrain from burning things and being violent to make a statement. Stop blaming the entire world for your problems. You came to university to better yourself. That is how our parents became successful. Not because education was free, not because they were privileged but because they were wise enough to know that education is the greatest liberator in order to achieve success. I am privileged because my mother took that decision. Not because I necessarily  went to “White schools” or have “Jannie” as a best friend, because I don’t. Stop blaming the government for where you grew up. Stop being too ambitious, next thing you going to demand free GTIs from the government. Keep calm and remain. Most importantly, go to class fellow compatriots, study and get that degree. If you didn’t make DP then stop disrupting those who did, because when they fail they’re going to blame government for that too right? Most importantly and finally, I am convinced that though the fee increment has fallen, behaviours and respect from the youth must not fall with it but rise. The way in which “we” are behaving isn’t an accurate depiction of how respect has been drilled in our homes and certainly not how disciplined comrades behave. Respect must rise! Andijiki.  

Monday, 5 October 2015

The church has failed



Greetings dear reader, its been a minute. Life generally gets busy and when I have time to spare I try to keep in touch the best way I can. The blog is over a year old and it is pleasing to know that it has impacted many readers. Many have shared the blog via their google cirlcles, some continue to spread the love by “+” on google and sharing it on their timelines on Facebook. The exciting thing about this is, the blog doesn’t only inspire you but it keeps me on my toes continuously and whenever I share an interest on a matter I always ache and urge to blurt it out on this space. To the subject of the day… Very recently I was home to visit. And as the Sunday norm  and lifestyle, I went to church. Our pastor was speaking under the theme; “Why we have church”… I generally know the reason, so I didn’t expect to be wowed but during the sermon I found myself being drawn into the subject. As someone who literally grew up in the church, I realized that this topic was one that was close to my heart. It also dawned on me on how the church today has missed the plot. Completely. Now, I must make it known that I am not referring to a particular church. If any of you feel that I am, maybe its your own conviction and nothing more. This is an opinion. An opinion that is on border line facts, as I have observed my findings and seen them to be true.
So why do we have church? Matthew 16:18 tells us that the church belongs to God. 2 Corinthians 7:23 tells us that we are Gods church. Essentially that means that church is not constraint to a mere church building but it is bigger than that. We, followers of Christ resemble or should resemble the church. The mission has a church (John 20:21). The church is sent by God, making us ambassadors on earth . We can draw the following:

1.       Christ lives in us
2.       We are to display God (we are the church)
3.       We exist for Gods glory
4.       We exist to proclaim the gospel of Christ
5.       We are to make disciples
6.       Our duty is to advance Gods kingdom (tricky one, we will engage)

All the above six points are FACT. It doesn’t need your vote. It’s what is. The Bible tells us this. However, somewhere along the line the enemy came with a mandate to kill, destroy and steal what God had intended for the church. Church has now become a weekly “Durban July” or “J&B met”. It has become a fashion circus. And hear me, there is NOTHING wrong with looking good. Nothing at all. Infact, it is good that we take time out to look good to go to the house of God; HOWEVER, when the only core reason of you going is based on what you wear and whether or not sister so and so and brother so and so noticed your new blazer it becomes a problem. “#Church Selfie” is one of the most trending hash tags on social media. Instagram has become the new way to show off our Sunday best. It has become meaningful to go to church just to post that Sunday selfie. Then we caption it with a deep scripture that carries no backing to the ACTUAL reason you’re posting it. This is sad. Disgusting to say the least. What about the broken souls? What about the lost? What about salvation? We have missed it. The church has become an anything goes when scripture tells us to not conform to the things of this world. So, we alter and tweek the word of God so that we don’t lose members. The church has compromised the word of God so that it can gain members. It conforms to the world so that it doesn’t lose tithe money. It compromises the principles of God so that it doesn’t offend people. So the church comes with commercial terms like “Godly dating” or even better “Courtship”. This one gets tricky… Because everyone wants a Bae right? Because we all want to get married in the end? My problem is not that the church allows this but rather my problem lies in how its Godlysized… It’s made pure when sexual immorality takes place. I have  a problem with how “courtship” is tackled. If it were two stable individuals who had a job and source of income with a good head on their shoulders, “courtship” would be negotiable, I’d perhaps buy into it. But when the church allows teenagers who still rely on their parents for money it becomes problematic. Moreover allowing varsity students whose only income is NSFAS grocery vouchers who do not even have a R50 they’ve worked for ,it becomes tricky. And hear this, the church claims that they will monitor this union… reality is, the church isn’t there when the two are alone in a res room or one of the partners back room flat at 11pm in the evening…. The church will do very little in mending the broken heart of that naïve little girl who thought she’d found the one at age 18 nogal and the church cheered the little naïve buggers on, only to find at age 24 that they’re not compatible. It was just a phase and she would have given him her virginity because the church has holified their union. Their dating isn’t a mere form of dating. Its “Godly”. In the words of Pastor N. Mahlaba; “iCourtship, sisjolo sabazalwane nge style”. Courtship is just an excuse for people to play. It has no concrete significance anymore like it should’ve.
The church pulpit has become a bragging centre. This is where the pastor brags about his marriage of 30 years and how beautiful his marriage is. What about the widow? What about the broken divorcee? The church is so quick to organize marriage seminars but what about an event that invites the broken widow whose just lost her husband tragically, what about that divorcee who really tried to make it work but his/her spouse ran off with someone else. What about the broken?. And hear me, marriage is a beautiful thing, it was a union created by God. It is how God wanted his kingdom agenda to influence the earth but let us not give focus into your “perfect” marriage only, let us focus on your other members who unfortunately do not live in paradise like you do. Has the church considered the fatherless/motherless?, does it consider the single parent enough?. I often see how insensitive they are to these very important ministries. Just as important as marriage is, so is a widow to Gods heart and so is the orphan or the bastard child. The blood of Jesus that was given unto us has been diminished to the level of cheap testimonies. Material things like cars and mansions.  What about healing? Restoration?. Oh! Don’t get me started on how prayer meetings have become a gossip session. The concept of ‘Holy Gossip’ lingers in the church… “Lets pray for brother so and so.. we suspect he is in fornication” that’s a subtle way to bring across gossip you already know. And while salvation has now become a trend… It is no longer a precious, esteemed thing to possess but rather it has become trendy to say “I am saved”. When actions sadly contradict. This is no judgement but the truth. Visitors in the church have been made to feel like used paper cups and plastic utensils. We only greet you if you’re a regular in the church. We have no business with you if you’re a stranger. The church has generated cliques, the footballers wives, the housewives, the doctors wives, the golfing buddies, the fashionisters, all those with MacBooks and iPhones linger together. WE HAVE LOST IT. COMPLETELY.  Church has become about dancing and only and not worship. We are concerned about the keyboard and not the word. Toys are what these instruments are. Utter toys. Salvation is deeper. And the sad reality is, we expect to receive hurt and rejection from the world and never from the church, little do we know that, that is where you often find it. The fear of God is gone. People can lead worship while the previous night they were leading something else (details for another day). And if this offends anyone, then maybe you’re in the wrong kingdom. The kingdom of God ascribes by what is right and what is true. “Ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall set you free” (John 8:23). Be blessed.