Those were indeed the good old days

                                                 Picture courtesy Power your city website

During my childhood years I use to spend most of my vacations at my maternal grandparents home. The festive cheer during the December month definitely transcended into our home as well. Nana and his friend, the late Uncle Ebrahim Bhika use to drive my brother and I down town Johannesburg to take a ride on the famous topless bus to see the Christmas lights. There was never a December that went by without taking a picture with Santa Claus. To appease one of my crossy face episodes, I recall Nana purchasing a talking and singing Christmas father toy for me as a gift. It subsequently suffered a horrible death as it went flying down the flat window accidentally. Nana and Nani resided in Wynberg, a suburb that bordered Alexandra township. Whilst many viewed the area as being notorious and dangerous, for us it was home. Mom’s family resided in a small one and a half bedroom flat. The lounge area had a few arm chairs and a couch that could open up into a bed as well. Both the lounge and the master bedroom had entrances into the cosy kitchen. There was a small pantry adjacent to the coal stove. Whilst the master bedroom had an ensuite bathroom, the toilet was located outside in between two flat units. The neighbours had to share a communal toilet and mind you waking up at night to go to the toilet was actually a terrifying experience for a kid even though the main gate at the bottom was always kept locked with a chain. Despite my grandparents home being small it was always a place of love and laughter. No one went to bed hungry. During the day, Nanis neighbour, Kajja bhai use to spoil me with garam garam sugar roti. May God Almighty grant her the highest stages of paradise. The people of that time had little but they were content. They appreciated the smaller, finer things in life. As the years went by, my grandparents moved to Marlboro as the flat they were residing in was going to be demolished. Naturally, there was huge excitement when they moved into their new home. During this time of the year, nana would take us for a walk in Joubert Park. On other days, we would take a drive to Johannesburg’s Lilliputian wonder, Santarama miniland. We were welcomed by a giant statue of Jan Van Riebeeck and definitely enjoyed boarding the full scale model of his ship, the Dromedaris. With smiles and laughter we ogled at the miniature models of prominent city landmarks. No festive season was complete without visiting the musical fountains at Wemmer Pan. So what has happened to these iconic places? From what I heard, these places have been neglected and totally run down. Many visitors have also been robbed and mugged at knife point. The city of Johannesburg needs to revive these places especially now over the festive season. I am not a person who goes crazy over firework displays but I do recall Uncle Ebrahim visiting Nana's home during the festive season with a big box of fireworks that he would light for us. Believe it or not we all use to enjoy the classic Boney M Christmas carols. In fact, my colleague and I had a big laugh this week trying to recall some of the lyrics. This is how I reminisce about the festive season during my childhood. It never made me any less of a Muslim and neither did I change my faith of birth. It simply made me more aware and more understanding towards other people’s culture, faith and tradition. Those were indeed the good old days!

Letter from a prisoner - Jingle bells

As the world gets ready for the festive season, so too do those behind bars. The festive season may be the best time of the year for most; but for prisoners, it is the worst time of the year. 

From the start of December to mid-January; prisons, nationally, run a program known as "Operation Vala." "Vala" literally means to close or lock. In context, it simply means that nothing but essential services occur within the prisons. 

During this period, the prison bells jingle much earlier than they normally do. Prisoners are locked up by noon, instead of the usual 14:30 or even later at some facilities. This means that prisoners are locked in their cells for around 20 hours a day. Wardens thus do not even work for half a day for over a month, not that they do much anyways.

Programs that usually run within the prison come to a halt, the parole board closes, social workers and psychologists are unavailable and even the doctor and dentist do not consult during this period. Unless an inmate is suffering from a , visible, life or death condition; no treatment will be available. One has to just pray that one does not get ill or for a tooth to act up. 

As many people receive bonuses at work, inmates generally receive more visits than usual during this time. Visits are one of the few things  that inmates really look forward to but during this period, even visits leave a bitter taste. Many inmates only see their families from rural areas during the festive season but due to the shutdown of services, requests to receive items from home are not processed timeously; resulting in inmates being unable to receive items such as underwear, shoes or bedding from loved ones. The increase in visitors also results in the visit time being curtailed and  the prison kiosk running out of stock. The prison kiosk also takes advantage of their monopoly by not getting caught up in the festive sales but instead increase their prices.

The worst part about this time of the year is not the physical changes that occur but the battles that inmates have to fight within their minds. Personally, I have always found it tough to not reminisce over the good times I have had during the holidays in the past. Speaking to family and friends, it is always nice to learn of their adventures but one cannot help but feel saddened at the same time. 

To mitigate the effects of the festive season, inmates take greater risk in trying to obtain cellular phones, drugs and alcohol.  This is exacerbated by the fact that wardens are looking to make extra money for their celebrations and thus bring in more contraband than usual. The really desperate wardens will bring in a phone for an inmate and then get a colleague to search the same inmate a few days later. If the phone is found, it is subsequently re-sold to another inmate. 

Those without the outside support to buy illegal items come up with plans to add some merry to their festive season. Homemade beer is brewed by some inmates and then sold to others. A brew is made using water, old bread and rotting fruit. The mixture is made in buckets and left to ferment for as long as possible. Those with tailoring skills spend the extra hours in the cell by transforming prison uniforms, by hand,  into more trendy styles seen in magazines. "Designer," prison uniforms are then sold for R200.00, for a set. The artistic inmates create greeting cards, gift bags, jewelry boxes, paintings and ornaments from whatever scraps they can find within the prison. Items are sold to fellow inmates who then gift the items to their visitors. 

As a Muslim, this time of the year is very frustrating. Muslim and other non-Christian spiritual care workers are not allowed into the prison due to the lock-down, yet Christian inmates have more services than normal with their volunteers coming inside in greater numbers than during the course of the year. Every Friday, it is a fight with management to even get to pray jummuah. One of the things I do admire about the Christians over this time of the year is that they will arrange parcels for all of the inmates who do not receive visits. 

All in all though, the festive season does signify that another year of my sentence is coming to a close. For that and the fact that I do not have to endure repetitive Christmas carols by agonizing non singing voices, I too have reason to be merry. 

Incredible India - My journey part 2

5th October 2017

This morning I awoke to the sound of zikr from the masjid nearby after fajr salaah. Here at every masjid after salaah everyone sits for a loud zikr program and it sounds absolutely fantastic echoing in all directions. The sound of the cockadoodledoo of the chickens seemed to be in competition with the zikr. I opened the door and stepped outside breathing in the fresh mountain air. As the sun began to rise the locals started their days work. The school kids made their way to the main road by hopping a ride on the shikara. 
A few minutes later the houseboat traders were out in full force selling their arts and crafts to tourists as well as to the locals. Our housekeeper Farook bhai and I enjoyed a heart to heart conversation on the balcony as we sipped a hot cup of masala chai. As the rest of the family made their way to the dining room, our personal chef miraculously appeared with a variety of eggs on a tray. After gobbling a hearty breakfast, we then enjoyed a relaxing ride on the shikara through the houseboat neighbourhood. We stopped at a few shops and showrooms appreciating the local arts and crafts like paper mache, wood carving and ofcourse carpet making. People usually go for honeymoon to Switzerland, Europe and to islands but to me Kashmir is undoubtedly one of the most romantic places in the world. This afternoon we were invited for lunch at the home of a family friend. They welcomed us at their palatial home with smiles and warmth and arranged a spread of kashmiri meals. We ended lunch with traditional kashmiri chai and cookies. As it started getting cooler, we made our way to the majestic Mughal Shalimar gardens built by Mugal emperor Jahangir for his wife Noor Jahan. In the vicinity close by is the most stunning garden in the whole of Srinagar, Nishat Bagh. This garden is noted for its beautiful sunsets. We also had the opportunity of performing prayers at the famous Hazratbal masjid. The masjid contains a relic believed by many muslims in kashmir to be the hair of the beloved Prophet Muhammed (saw). I noticed people of all faiths visiting the masjid. Many visit to take vows by tying ribbon pieces on a wall adjacent to the shrine encasing the hair. What I love most about this quaint city is the fact that everyone here resides happily with each other side by side. Hindus, Muslims, Sikhs, sunnis and shias all live in harmony. I would strongly recommend people to visit this part of the world. They are trying very hard to rejuvenate the tourism industry so that more jobs can be created for the locals. The ongoing political conflict in this part of the world has undoubtedly had a negative impact on the tourism industry and the media certainly do not help the cause either.....To be continued.....

Letter from a prisoner - University of Crime

For years now, I have been incarcerated for a crime I didn't commit. As a Muslim Indian man, one of the toughest aspects to deal with has been living with a 95% population of Black men. The cultural differences mean that I have to constantly deal with noise and a general lack of manners. The morals and values are worlds apart. It has made me appreciate my upbringing and religion tremendously. It is a part of my faith to not consider myself better than others and indeed I do not, rather I try to gain an understanding of others. 

Infinitely more worrying to me as a man who loves his country; is the blase or even non-existent attitude towards the crimes men perpetrated. It is common knowledge that South Africa is plagued by crime and sadly by violent crime. For years, I have used my unique position of living among them, to try and get a first hand understanding of the men behind some of the horrendous and heinous crimes you find out about through the media. I even studied criminology for a couple of semesters to try and understand what motivates men to commit violent crimes. Whilst many theories exist, they fall terribly short. 

As a general observation from my countless interactions, it is evident that remorse does not exist. On the contrary, inmates spend much of their time planning how they will get away with it the next time. Statistics concur that over 50% of the men in here have  been in prison for previous offences and the recidivism rate is only increasing. 

I led a sheltered, privileged life before prison and it has only been in prison that I have been exposed to the gravity of crime. As a prisoner myself, I believe that prisons are the breeding grounds for crime. 

Everyday, the average prisoner spends most of his day by chatting to fellow prisoners. The conversations regularly revolve around crime. Listening to stories, I am shocked by the pride with which they are told and dumbstruck at how listeners are quick to offer advice on what should have been done or how it could have been done better. The narratives put Hollywood scripts  to shame. 

Another of the regular daily topics in prison regards smuggling or other illegal activity. I have yet to meet an inmate that is not part of something illegal. The vast majority of inmates smoke marijuana. Marijuana is a lucrative business in prison, enriching both prisoners and wardens alike. On a daily basis, users or traders refine their skill of being able to smoke or smuggle the substance without being caught. 

Prisoners also learn or enhance their ability to deceive, lie, cheat, smuggle and hide other contraband. Cellular phones, for example, are so rife in prison that the ones without them are the odd ones out. They are illegal as per regulations but corruption means that they are the norm. Prisoners go to great lengths on a daily basis to ensure that they can "safely" have a phone. A prisoner in possession of a phone has to hide the phone every single day and find new ways to outwit wardens. 

Similarly, other criminal activity is perpetrated by prisoners on a daily basis. Crime, if it was not already, becomes a lifestyle. The basis for prison is that it is supposed to be a means whereby criminal behavior is corrected and a prisoner should be released back into society as a rehabilitated individual. The reality  is the opposite, prisoners are released having honed their skills and having had time to plan their future endeavors. 

As a nation ravaged by crime, the whole concept of prison needs to be addressed as the system simply does not work. Prisons as a place of punishment and rehabilitation is a theory that is constantly proven false; instead they are nothing but universities of crime. 

Incredible India - My journey part 1

October 4th 2017

As a child I never quite envisaged visiting so many countries and meeting different people throughout the world. God has undoubtedly been good to me. I couldn't thank Him enough for all the bounties He has blessed me with. Many great authors and poets have written about the beauty of Kashmir and so it has always been my dream destination. We left SA on Monday on board Emirates. I noticed significant changes at OR TAMBO in terms of security checks but it still does not compare to the airport security in Dubai as well as in India. In India only passengers are allowed inside the airport. In SA every Tom Dick and Harry are allowed inside the airport. Whilst waiting to board our connecting flight to New Delhi we became acquainted with some of the passengers in the waiting area. There was an elderly Sikh couple that truly inspired me. They were returning from a 3 week vacation in Europe. They were quite proud to tell us that despite being elderly they explored 6 countries with ease. The upright, neatly dressed Sikh gentleman is 75 years old and his other half is 65 years old. They were a cute, jovial couple. As the conversation ensued more passengers started joining in until it was time to board our connecting flight. Arriving at Indira Gandhi international airport, I was taken a back at the progress and development I witnessed. India has certainly changed in the last 17 years since I visited. The change is evident in all sectors. We were welcomed at the airport with smiles and warmth. The airport personnel were friendly and obliging especially the staff stationed at the e-visa counter. After collecting our luggage we were greeted by Arshad from Mantana travel and tours. We have been putting this trip together for a few weeks now through email and whatsapp and so finally meeting him in person was pretty awesome. His arrangements thus far have been excellent. We made our way to the opulent Suryaa hotel driving through Delhi's horrendous traffic whilst listening to the sound of Bhangra music. It made us wanna stamp our feet and clap our hands. A lot has changed in New Delhi but the driving culture certainly hasn't. I don't think I'd be able to drive in India. There is a strange driving culture here where cars do not keep in their own lane.People drive haphazardly whilst hooting and honking away. I would call it an organized chaos.Ironically, the accident rate is minimal.We were given a grand welcome at the hotel in line with Indian hospitality. My brother Zillurrahman who resides in Bihar came all the way to spend the day with us. Once we checked in and got all comfortable we went out to Al Bake restaurant located at New friends colony. The food was absolutely delicious. We devoured the mince shorma, seekh kebaab and tandoori chicken. The garlic naan was undoubtedly the best I've ever eaten. After lunch I wanted to meet my papaji. I7 years ago I was literally adopted by a Kashmiri shop owner. My dad and I were having a petty argument about which items of clothing i should purchase.Papaji intervened telling my dad that he shouldn't be arguing with me. Then he said that he only has sons and no daughters. So he asked dad if he could adopt me. He landed up giving me all the items of clothing that I had chosen free of charge. I was totally shocked. I knew the value of the garments as they were made from silk and on top of it hand embroidered.Meeting him yesterday after 17 years was definitely an emotional experience. He managed to maintain the bond for almost 2 decades.Just like the first time we met,I left papajis shop with bags of clothing. Arshad was kind enough to give us a mini city tour.We took a drive past the lotus temple, Humayuns tomb that is currently under construction, gateway of India, parliament house etc. Poor Arshad drove us with a smile from one end of Delhi to the other. As the day came to an end we headed back to the hotel. After freshening up it was time to attend a dinner function in our honour at Zillurrahmans extended families home. I was quite surprised to learn that the family moved from Bihar to Delhi in order to educate their 4 girls. They desire to become doctors. India has progressed in all sectors whilst we back home are regressing. All around us we noticed construction and development. However, the one thing that hasn't changed is a man's attitude towards a woman. Not all men but many men felt that it was quite alright to stare as though they were undressing us with their eyes. Hence Arshad accompanied us all over the city. As we meandered through gulleys and alleys amidst a cacophony of sound I couldn't help but notice various groups of people.. I noticed super rich snotty individuals in posh cars taking advantage of their drivers and maids. By the way not all rich people here treat their employees badly. It's not fair to generalise. Then I noticed the working middle class trying to make ends meet and of course how could I not notice the extreme poverty and slums in which thousands of people reside in.My heart broke. I was warned though not to give anyone money. Whilst there are genuine poverty stricken people residing in the city, there are also syndicates who use children to beg at traffic signals. They deliberately amputate their arms and legs so that the public would feel sorry for them and hence they can derive more revenue. On the political front we heard mixed reactions about the current leadership. Whilst many praised the Modi administration many were disgruntled especially with regards to the 28 percent gst.Many however sang praises for the previous prime minister Manmohan Singh and president Abdul kalaam. Under their leadership India showed a GDP of 60 percent and over whereas the GDP has dropped significantly under the current leadership. One Sikh gentleman made me laugh when he said that JZ and Modi are both the same. They both all words but no action. Under Manmohan Singhs leadership a 10 percent tax was proposed. Modi at the time was a part of the opposition. They threatened to burn india down. Now he imposed a tax that is way more than 10 percent. This morning we flew out to srinagar. We did however encounter hiccups at the airport. All domestic flights only allow 15kg of luggage per person. So even though Emirates allows you 2 by 23 kg bags when entering India, internal flights only accommodates 15kg. This is absolutely ridiculous. It's almost as though India is saying we don't want foreigners to spend money in the country or we don't want foreigners to support local artists and craftsman as the luggage quota for internal flights is minimal. So you either pay for the excess weight and carry on or you keep your extra luggage with friends. We stopped at Jammu to drop off passengers. We waited in the plane for one and a half hours before we took off again due to technical difficulties.Eventually we arrived in Srinagar. After completing the formalities Rasheed bhai whisked us away to our 7 star houseboat. I was a bit shocked at the huge presence of military personnel all around us. In fact no photography is allowed at the Jammu and srinagar airport as they are considered defence airports and hence they are a part of the military.We received a grand welcome at the HB montana houseboat and lunch was ready for us. The food here is divine... Totally out of this world. After lunch we took a stroll in the botanical gardens. Words can not describe the beauty of the place. I felt relaxed. I felt alive breathing in the fresh crisp mountain air. The best thing about India and kashmir is the minimal crime rate. Whilst petty theft does occur due to poverty and honour killing happen in villages due to family feuds, in general no one kills a person for a cellphone or for 50 rupees.I feel free as a bird. We noticed vans laden with goods parked on the side of the road. The driver didn't close the windows and neither were the doors locked.One more thing..many people discouraged us from staying in the houseboat. Don't ever listen to people. Anyone can stay in a hotel but the houseboat experience will remain with me forever. Time for dinner.... ma'am Sahiba dinner tayyaar hai. Jaldi aajao.......

Letter from a prisoner - A man in a man's world

                                                               

                                                                    www.fanpop.com

I was married for just over 6 years and my marriage ended terribly. I also witnessed my parents marriage go horribly wrong and end in the most tragic of ways. I also witnessed the marriage of an elderly couple I care for dearly, end with the man hanging himself. 

Over the past month or so, I have been in touch with family and friends who have been sharing their marital or relationship problems with me.

Recently, a lady who I consider my sister was told by her husband that, after bearing him two beautiful sons, that she is gone too fat. He does not love her anymore and wants out. 

In another instance, a friend confided in me about how her ex-husband used to sexually force himself on her during his drug induced highs; albeit that he needed to inject himself in order to obtain an erection. 

Yet another friend was left high and dry by her husband when it transpired that she had breast cancer. A few years on, and he has not paid any maintenance for the 4 kids they share. 

My single friends have a plethora of tales of all the seemingly ludicrous things men want from a potential marriage. Men seem to think that they are entitled to dictate terms to potential spouses. They are not shy to set rules as to how their woman must dress, cook, behave, work or more likely not work, interact with family and friends; and such it seems as though men truly believe they live in a mans world.

This exposure definitely does not qualify me as an expert on the matter but it has given me a newfound appreciation for relationships. On a more personal level, it has made me question the man that I am, the man I was in my marriage and the partner I seek to be in the future. 

Am I too soft? Am I too romantic? Am I too selfless? Am I a pushover? Am I a man?

This train of thought may seem ironic coming from a person who has to be a man every single moment in order to survive my current environment of prison, but I cannot help but be intruiged by the attitudes of men that is seen as acceptable. 

In Indian South African homes, it is expected by the man and society that the wife will cook and take care of the house. By the time the husband returns from home, the house should be flawless and a sumptuous meal should be awating his arrival. My childhood home was this way too. Yet in my marriage it was the complete opposite. I would get home from work and prepare supper, which would be ready by the time my ex got home from the gym. I would then prepare and pack our lunches for the next day. Cleaning the house was left to the domestic worker. On weekends or when she felt like it, my ex would cook or bake. I did not mind cooking daily and saw nothing wrong with how we lived. Yet I know to most this arrangement will seem just plain wrong. Why though? Why is it wrong for a man to cook for his wife or family? By the way, I am now a qualified chef, is that not more reason for why I should cook when it is a passion of mine? If my partner isn't into cooking as much as I am, should I still "man up" and order that she cooks? Does cooking for your husband make one a better wife? 

I guess with my ex, a lot of it came down to her working and studying at the same time; which brings me to another sore subject. When it comes to women working, men get very insecure. Men seem to think that their wife having a more successful career than them or God forbid earning more than them equates to instant emasculation. Suddenly, men become all pious and say that a woman should not work; but such hypocricy is exposed easily. At this point I will probably be labelled as modernist or worse, when in actual fact I am very old school in the respect that I do believe that it is a mans job to provide for his wife and family. Make no mistake, I do not for a moment see myself as a "house husband," I simply feel that if so many women across the world can work and take care of their homes, then why can a man not do the same? Why should a woman only labour for love? 

Having a job or career brings about self-fulfillment that no man can give his spouse. Why then deny the one, you supposedly love more than anyone else, this opportunity at self-fulfillment?

When Indian men date women, then they are happy to be seen with a woman who shows off her figure and dresses modernly. Yet the same men want a wife who meets their criterion of modesty. Again, such hypocricy. Yes, as a Muslim man I would like my future wife to guide me towards jannah; but it is just as much my responsibility to do the same. The way in which it is done though is what bothers me. To the rest of the world, a man will be kind, sweet and gentle; but when it comes to his spouse he is harsh and abrupt. The very same men who will say they are doing their religious duty by being the man of the house fail to realise that kindness towards a spouse is also a Sunnah. 

As a prisoner, I have lost pretty much everything  that was dear to me. I miss a lot of it but the one thing that I miss more than anything else is love and companionship. Treasure the love and companion you have for love truly is life. 

Rey's Indian style Basmati rice

1. Boil water in a pot. Add a few 

pieces of taj, lavang, elachi and 

salt. (2 tsp salt per one cup of 

rice)

2. Wash 4 cups rice in a dish

3. Add the rice to the pot and boil

until halfway done

4. Drain rice and then add to an 

oven proof pot

5.Now make a vagaar for the rice.

Slice half an onion into a frying 

pan

6. Add 1 tsp jeera

7.Add 4 tablespoons ghee 

8. Onion must fry until slightly browned

9. Add the browned onions with the

ghee over the rice

11. Now add half a cup of water to

the rice and steam at 180 degrees

until done

Serve with any curry of your choice!

CPL 2017 UPDATE BY Dev Govindjee

TUESDAY 15 AUGUST 2017

It has been a long time since I sat down to write an update- so much has happened and so many countries visited over the past 12 months that I fear I shall not be able to do justice if I attempt to recall them all- safe to say that recently I have visited Qatar, Hong Kong, Nepal, Uganda, Kenya, The Netherlands & Jersey since December 2016 and now am in the Caribbean doing my 3rd CPL (Caribbean Premier League) tournament.

My schedule of travel has thus been totally frenetic and these appointments do not always come well in advance –so there has been a terribly stressful period of getting Schengen Visas and USA & UK Visas all sorted out in time for me to get to the various destinations –thankfully these hurdles have been negotiated and I now find myself sitting on the balcony of the lovely Royal St Lucia Resort on another glorious Caribbean morning with time on my hands- time enough to realize that many have requested updates and many others have indicated that they have missed hearing from me- for the others- well just read and enjoy or send me a short note indicating otherwise and I shall refrain from taking up your time.

My 2017 CPL schedule excited me as I have on my previous two visits to the West Indies missed out on getting matches in St Lucia- this time it was included- firstly though I had to complete a European U19 Tournament in Jersey ( first visit there) in the Channel Islands ( more about that later) and thankfully completed matches there on the 1 August allowing me to fly directly to London & Miami to be in time in Fort Lauderdale for the start of my CPL matches on 5 August. Had a hectic double header of matches there on the Sat & Sun and on Monday 7th it was a chartered flight out of Fort Lauderdale for 4 teams and match officials directly to St Lucia.There were long delays due to overloading of luggage ( cricket kit) so finally 4 hours later we departed and it meant getting to the hotel ( an 90 min drive) only around 8 pm – in time to spend a bit of my birthday out having supper with the umpires.

The island/country of St Lucia is absolutely beautiful- fantastic resort where we are staying so a walk directly onto the beach - idyllic conditions for doing whatever you feel like- a short walk into Rodney Bay where there are enough pubs, restaurants, coffee shops and shops for the satisfaction of the many tourists who come to enjoy what is on offer.A few days ago we arranged to travel around some parts of the Island and visited the iconic Pitons ( two cone-shaped mountains) as well as visiting the Sulphur Springs nearby and having a delightful Mud Bath.

With the CPL matches here all scheduled to start either at 5,6 or 8 pm, it does leave many hours free to get to enjoy new places- also got to Castries which is the main harbor town where passenger liners dock fairly regularly bringing the many tourists who enjoy being in the Caribbean.

This update was started on Sunday and it is now Tuesday- Our 4th and final match here at the Daren Sammy Stadium is at 6pm and then we prepare to leave St Lucia for an equally beautiful island called St Kitts & Nevis.

Last night a local passionate cricket-loving family invited the match officials to their home- a beautiful evening spent with them and some friends they had invited and to listen to so much of what life is like on these Caribbean islands –their love and following of cricket down to their knowledge of even the match officials was astounding and we were made ot feel really special by them all- hoping that one of their daughters plays for the West Indies one day.

Sunday 20 August

Yes- it is clear that the days are going by quickly and this update needs to be sent out before it is time to return home- so, from beautiful St Kitts on this reast day let me briefly update- have had a few matches here- my third visit to this magnificent island where the Port Zante region in the downtown Basseterre comes alive when the regular ocean liners dock-a few days ago two docked at the same time so it was a good time to be there and once again experience the buzz tha this brings with it- tourism is what the island survives on and the shops do a good trade- I have made some good friends in many places and here I have friends who own a jewellery store and my weakness for watches is well know to them and yes, I have bought another one!

I also have a couple who take me around to see new places so this afternoon they shall once again do that.

Some CPL matches start at 9pm for maximum TV exposure in the sub-continent- that does mean that if there are any rain interruptions then the extra time allowed pushes the cessation times way beyond midnight! Really should not complain as we do have free days and also match days are free until we leave for the venues.

From St Kitts the next stop on Thursday will be Barbados- looking forward to my 2nd visit to Bajan territory and from there it is play-offs and finals this year in Trinidad.

Until the next update

Always

Just

deV

Letter from a prisoner - One visit, one look, one life changing decision

21 May 2017

10 years ago, I spent a few months in prison before being granted bail pending the outcome of an appeal. For the first weekend back in the "real" world, my family and friends decided upon a trip to the "real" Sun City (the prison I was in for those few months is nicknamed sun city due to the corruption and ability to have almost anything in there).

There are many reasons why I will always remember that particular trip but there is one  that truly stands out, for the wrong reasons. On the way to Sun City, I was a passenger in my friends stunning Porche cabriolet. As he was too busy thrashing the car about every corner, he did not have the opportunity to light a cigarette. Jokingly, he asked me to light one for him. 

I had always been fairly health conscious and had never thought of being a smoker, as I found the act itself rather repulsive. I had also witnessed an uncle suffer from lymphoma, a time that was especially trying for me. I had as a young teen tried smoking on a couple of occasions, but it did nothing for me. Even if it was the greatest feeling in the world, I would have never smoked because both my dad and mom despised it. 

So when my friend asked me to light a cigarette for him, I cannot to this day rationalise why I said yes. What I do know though is that when he turned to me minutes later, the cigarette was finished. I had smoked my first whole cigarette. The scary part was that I enjoyed it. 

From that day on, I was a smoker. Most people could not believe it when they saw me smoking; but unfortunately I was hooked. Those few moments of pleasure whilst smoking became something to look forward to. Soon, I was smoking a pack a day. At times, even more. Many around me tried to discourage my newly formed habit but not even bouts of bronchitis could prevent me from lighting up. 

When I came back to prison, I changed a lot as a person. My faith is what changed the most. Smoking however presented a contradiction of sorts. No matter which way one looks at it, smoking can never be condoned by faith. It is a dirty habit that is simply a poisoning of oneself. I knew this. I knew this for years and I kept consoling myself and those who care for me that I would quit, but only on the day I walked out of prison. I guess for those who love me, it was some solace for them knowing that I had intentions to quit but due to circumstances they would not push me to stop something that seemingly helped me get through my ordeal. 

Would you be pleased with yourself knowing that you made someone who cared for you cry? I won't be pleased. It has always been the worst thing that I could do, to physically reduce someone to tears. As a teenager, I once made my mom cry; I vowed that day to never let that happen again, and I can proudly say I was never the cause of her tears again. The look in her eyes that day tore through me, I did not want to ever see that again. My dad wasn't one to cry but a look of disappointment was more than enough for him to render me speechless. 

Recently, a long lost friend visited me. Visiting someone in prison that you care for is really tough. She mustered the courage to do that though. During our conversation, the topic of smoking came up and I could instantly notice a change in her demeanour. She looked down into her hands and when she looked up again, I could see in her eyes that same look of disappointment that I had tried so hard to never see in my parents eyes. 

That look, was enough for me. That is what it took for me to there and then decide that enough was enough. I would not smoke again. Almost ten years of smoking, countless conversations with my loved ones, many lectures, booklets, articles, scary videos about the consequences of smoking and even the stark warnings on the cigarette boxes themselves that smoking kills; would prove to be futile. But one look. That one look was all it took. 

I have been clean for a few weeks now and with Ramadhaan fast approaching I have no doubt that I have it in me to not smoke again. One trip with a friend 10 years ago started my worst habit and one visit by a friend 10 years later ended that habit. 

The power of our minds are incredible. For such a long time I could not give up something but a mere glance from a friend proved to be the catalyst that I needed. In a world where we are all preoccupied with the bigger things in life, it is only natural that we tend to overlook the little things and especially the little things that those who care for us do. Take a moment, reflect and be ever so grateful for everyone in your life who cares for you; they are your greatest assets. And never underestimate the value they bring to your life, nor what they do for you; for one simple look changed my life for the better! 

PS: The writer of this article has quit smoking totally. He never ever lit another cigarette after meeting his best friend forever after a lengthy period of time

From Wow to Super Wow

I am pleased, humbled and honoured to receive this prestigious award .I have always admired the efforts of the Women of Wonder campaign and that makes this award all the more special. 

I would like to firstly thank my Creator for blessing me in abundance. 

My heartfelt thanks to the hosts, sponsors, organizers and attendees of this prestigious event. I wish you further success and that this event grows from strength to strength. 

Thanks to my late grandparents, who through their example; defined what hard work, dedication and selflessness meant.  Their lessons have been and will always be a source of inspiration. 

Thank you to the rest of my family for supporting me and helping me through this journey called life. Thank you to my staff for their hard work, perseverance, dedication and outstanding character displayed towards all our patients. Without them, Medix pharmacy will be non-existent. 

Lastly and most importantly; I would not be standing where I am if it were not for the unwavering and infinite support of my amazing parents. I have never taken compliments to heart, because all of them actually belong to you both. You sacrificed your own happiness, just so that I could be happy and live my dreams. I hope to always make you smile, thank you.

As we celebrate and recognize the success of women, let us also reflect on what defines success. I will leave you with beautiful words on success that resonates within me, by Ralph Waldo Emerson: 

What is success?

To laugh often and much,

to win the respect of elders and the affection of children, 

to leave the world a better place,

to know even one life has breathed easier because of you,

this is to have succeeded. 

Whilst the event was superbly organised in terms of decor, food and entertainment, in all fairness I also need to be critical of a few underlying flaws that I noticed. I trust and hope that the organizers of the event will take note of the constructive criticism as there is always room for improvement in any business or organization. I am a person who always speaks my mind and my heart. I am always true to myself. I do not mean to offend anyone. Please forgive me if I have.

Firstly, I was quite aghast at the fact that the guest speaker was a recipient of the award last year. This year she received the award once again. In fact there were a few women who received the award last year and then again this year. My heartiest congratulations goes out to all of them. They are truly an inspiration to many. However, with the Interpol ambassador clarifying that this country officially has more women than men are we then saying that there just aren’t enough women out there who are capable of receiving this prestigious award and hence the award needs to be awarded to the same recipient year after year.  From my past experiences I have found that the sponsors of an event receive gifts and bouquets of appreciation but never an award.

What criterion did the organizers utilize in order to nominate an individual for the award? Most of the women who received an award were professional women who have excelled in their field. Yes, no doubt they do deserve recognition. And I compliment the Panache team for making every recipient feel special.  Many of the recipients are from influential homes and are affluent in a personal capacity. But what about those women in our community who are not educated or from affluent homes yet they do their bit for humanity in their own personal capacity. They are the unsung heroines of our neighbourhoods and communities. In the past I have met a few women who utilize their monthly income to sustain orphans in their community. Many of these kids were given away at birth or abandoned as kids due to the fact that their parents are addicted to drugs.  These selfless women within our communities who are struggling themselves to make ends meet yet choose to assist others, they need to be recognized and saluted for their efforts as well. Last year I met an elderly Zulu woman who feeds kids in a squatter camp. She suffers from a few ailments and commutes great distances to work and home. These are the kind of women that we need to acknowledge as well. These are the kind of women we need to find within our neighbourhoods. We need to appreciate them and salute them for their unselfish acts of kindness. When I see the heart they have for others, it makes me unworthy of the award that I received on Saturday night.  In my humble opinion, I think for next year’s event every community should nominate a candidate from their suburb. This should be done on a national level.  It should be an award for women, by women supported by the people of SA.  South Africa is made up of a diaspora of cultures . Correct me if I’m wrong, but I do not think that each race group was adequately represented at Saturday night’s function. The majority of the awards went to Indian South African women. Let us create an event that represents the rainbow nation.  In so doing, we will recognize and salute women from all walks of life irrespective of race, colour, creed,social status, educational or family background. This is how we ultimately build a nation. This award function then becomes a super wow event by acknowledging even ordinary women. I would like to take the opportunity in complimenting Mr Abdul Rahim Rasool for singing some of my favourite songs so beautifully. Just a pity the audience were a tad bit stiff to cheer him along. Well done Mr. Rasool. Hope to see more of you at future events.  A big shout out to the dancers who performed at the magical event with absolute grace and finesse.  I  thoroughly enjoyed the semi classical piece that was performed by the male dancer. Every move was executed with sheer precision. And last but not least I was blown away by the strength and resilience portrayed by the female karate artists. They have proven yet again that whilst a woman may be perceived as being weak or fragile, she not only possesses inner strength but outer strength as well. The women who performed at Saturday night’s event were all petite and elegant but wow, absolute power houses.  After all, dynamite does come in small packages. Never ever underestimate the strength of a woman. Thank you Panache once again for a well put together fun filled evening. All the best in your future endeavours!

The choice is yours

Life is becoming increasingly tough for many people out there. I see this everyday as I try to empathize with my patients. More and more young individuals are on antidepressants and mood stabilizers due to difficulties they experiencing within their lives.Financial strain coupled with domestic violence provokes a person to become suicidal. Yesterday I heard the story of a young woman who tried taking her life by overdosing on pain killers as her husband wants to divorce her. At 24 she is a mother of two kids. Whilst she is a loving mom and devoted wife, her husband is simply bored in their relationship and has opted to enjoy a string of affairs. As she is also financially dependent on her husband the thought of getting divorced made her react irrationally and she opted to try committing suicide....

My heart bleeds for a lovely woman I know. Her husband had a thriving business but now that he was diagnosed with a neurological disease and is unable to work any more, their business has literally collapsed. She was a woman of leisure dependent on her husband but now she is forced to step into a business and try managing it without being equipped with the necessary skills or expertise. Her luxury lifestyle is no more and she finds it difficult to accept. There are many people out there who are orthodox and radical when it comes to issues pertaining to women. Many believe that a woman's place is in her home, cooking, cleaning and ironing. What happens to this woman and her kids when the breadwinner of the home is no more or he is unable to work any more. Many will say " Don't worry. God will provide". God will provide yes, if you make the effort. A woman should be self sufficient. You need to develop your own skills so that the ship does not sink..As a woman you need to set your own goals in life and set out to achieve them. In accomplishing your own goals you bring purpose and fulfillment in your own life apart from being a wife or mother.I have come across situations whereby a mother and her kids were left destitute and homeless once the husband passed on. There are women out there who don't know how to do simple banking like depositing money or withdrawing money from an ATM.With the economic situation hitting new lows in this country more and more people out there will struggle to lead a comfortable lifestyle. Marriage is a partnership between two people. In the same way that a woman expects her other half to be more domesticated,a woman should also earn a living to ease her partners burden and responsibility of running a home. Alas, marriage is like the wings on an aeroplane. Both wings need to function 100 percent in order to provide a smooth flight to the passenger's on board...Hence, you can choose to fly on a plane that is rocked by turbulence or you can choose to be on a smooth steady flight. The choice is yours!!

Letter from a prisoner - Stripping down the facts

eNCA

I understand that social media is abuzz and tempers are flaring due to the events that happened at Sun City (Johannesburg Correctional Center B) on youth day coming to light. Naturally, the overwhelming response is one of disgust but how do prisoners themselves view this incident? 

A warden showed me the pictures last week and even as an inmate myself, I was shocked. I did not think that something so public and brazen would happen in that way. Fellow inmates reacted in a similar way. 

Like the rest of the country, prisons in the country are absolutely corrupt from top to bottom. I see corruption happening before my eyes almost every single day. Generally what happens in prison, stays in prison. The public gets exposed to only but a handful of isolated incidents. Preferential treatment of Oscar Pistorius and the pre-release party of the Waterkloof 4 are 2 such incidents which also garnered much attention for the wrong reasons. 

Almost every prison has a Sports, Recreation, Arts and Culture committee (SRAC). Committees consist of a chairman, a warden, and inmates. The primary objective of such committees is to encourage responsible behavior through activities initiated within the prisons. As with any activity, it costs money even in prison. SRAC committees get a yearly budget which does come from your tax money but most of the money is raised through the prison itself or is raised through sponsorship. Every prison has a kiosk which sells snacks at visits and a shop selling basic groceries within the prison, directly to inmates through their own prison accounts. A portion of the profit is channeled back to inmates through SRAC activities. Soccer tournaments, gym equipment, pool tables, board games and televisions are some of the regular activities paid for by SRAC committees. 

Events such as the now infamous Youth Day celebration are also arranged through SRAC. For these functions, inmates arrange sponsors to donate whatever may be required and also approach celebrities to either entertain or give motivational talks. Events take months of planning and even then, most end up being a disaster. Before any event can go ahead, approval must be obtained from various offices, including security and the head of prison. For this particular event, all necessary permission was obtained. The dancers were approved. 

In the world we live in today, music and dance is an integral part of the lives of youth. Nobody really complains at the lewd lyrics or provocative music videos that even school children cannot get enough of. I am certain that many who are irate at the events making headlines have children or they themselves enjoy music or music videos which are absolutely immoral. To me, some music videos are nothing but soft core pornography. 

If the world is enjoying this type of entertainment then why is it such an issue for prisoners to enjoy it? Why not object to prisoners playing soccer, watching television or reading magazines in which so much more is seen? Why not become mad that prisoners in this country have cellular phones? Why not get irate that some prisoners are able to have sex even in prison? In many places in the world, prisoners are allowed conjugal visits, is it such a big issue then to have dancers in a prison? 

As a prisoner myself, I know all to well about escapism. Every prisoner finds his own way of escaping his reality. Some get lost in a book, studies, religion, gym, drugs and others in music and dance. Should all these avenues be blocked? 

At the Center I find myself at, there are also a few events a year. At almost every event, time is afforded for traditional Zulu dancing. The women who participate are not clothed any more than those in the pictures circulating social media. They wear a tiny skirt that shows their panties when they dance and their bosoms are covered by what is nothing more than a bra. Such events are attended by senior management and famous members of the public. I have never heard of any complaint regarding the dress of women during such dances. So why the double standards? Why is it acceptable in the form of traditional dance but not in the form of another genre? 

Yes, prison is meant to be punishment. And trust me, it is punishment. Prison houses the absolute worst of society, but one day, the same men in here will be standing next to you in a queue, be serving you, be your client or even be related to you. That is the reality of the justice system. Everyone, no matter how grave the crime. is entitled to freedom at some stage or other. By depriving a man of everything, are we going to make them better or worse individuals who will enter society? 

Personally, I am upset at the events that occurred. I am not surprised by provocative dancing as that is a part of contemporary society. I am upset that whilst some inmates were getting a show, I am having to fight the same authorities to enable me to continue with my university studies. I am upset that while some can get it right to have exotic dancers, I am unable to have basic religious rights, as allowed by policy. I am upset that some can get entertainment but others who do not belong in prison do not have a voice. I am upset that some die in prison because they do not get the attention that strippers get.

In a country loosing the battle against crime, strippers in prison may be taking things too far and I doubt that anything remotely like it will occur again. This incident should not be what scares the public, rather it should sensitize them to the deeper, underlying issues with the system as a whole. It is easy to get angry and even demoralized by the system, and the country as a whole; but the system and the country will only change if we stop being reactive but rather be proactive. 

Please forgive me

www.lovethispic.com So this is something I've always wanted to write about but just didn't get down to  doing it. Why is it that when a big night or an auspicious time of the year approaches that people find it necessary to bombard your phone with forgive me messages. Nowadays a new trend has also emerged with regards to people going for hajj and umra. One impersonal broadcast message is sent to all contacts asking for  forgiveness. Whilst residing in the Kingdom I use to love spending time with "Baba" in the desert riding camels. This morning being a Friday I thought about him. After  Friday prayers, Baba would pick me up and off we went into the desert where we met up with other members of his family.May Allah grant him jannah. He was super wealthy due to the large herd of camels that he owned, yet he worked as a driver in the hospital to learn English from the expat staff. The Bedouins I met were simple and kind. They  resided in their own simplistic world. Baba use to always say, "Lead your life in such a way that there is no need for you to ask anyone for forgiveness. But if you have wronged someone then before the sun goes down at Maghrib Salaah you should go up to the person you wronged and ask for forgiveness with the intention of never wronging the person again. In so doing you will never have any accountability in the presence of your Lord when it comes to matters pertaining to people." In Arab culture there is etiquette when it comes to seeking forgiveness. You  approach the person and talk about the problem face to face. Once the person is forgiven and the apology accepted, the matter is done and over. It should never be brought up again.These whatsapp messages that are shared over and over again is absolutely stupid and idiotic. Today, you asking for forgiveness because its a big night or a big day but the rest of the year you continue to oppress and behave in a cowardly fashion. What utter rubbish. Please do me a favour, save your data and remove me from your forgiveness list!