You waited for it for many, many months.
And now the author of Diary of a Guji Girl and Wordflute Press are pleased to announce that the novel is soon to be released.
Here is a sneak peak of what it would look like.
The book is a consolidation of posts on the blog, that were reworked and refreshed into a funny and reflective journal.
More information and launch dates would be released soon.
Let us know what you thing on Twitter using the hashtag: #DiaryofaGujiGirl
It has been the craziest month of my marriage life.
I don’t even know where to start.
Firstly, I decided I needed a break from Durban and needed my mother’s food so I convinced my hubby to take me home.
Eish it was not an easy fight.
He gets so bored in Newcastle and there is nothing for him to at my moms.
But that’s not my problem.
I stayed with his mother and didn’t complain! Okay, I complained a little, but still.
So we drive up to Newcastle and do the usual visiting of all our family and friends.
But when I went to our out building to greet my foi, she refused to open the door for me.
Apparently she was not speaking to my family because of an argument she had with my mother.
I didn’t want to get involved but it just pissed me off.
How can you stay in our yard and then still be rude. Beggars can’t be chooses!
Anyways, I couldn’t handle it. The next day she was in the garage fetching something and I saw her… I just let it all out.
“Foi! You take so much for granted. We have put up with you for so long. How can you just ignore my mother. She does everything for you! I don’t understand!”
“You know what I don’t understand? How your husband married you when he knew you were rejected and thrown like a dirty towel not by one but by two boys!”
She takes out the Shaitaan in me!
Oh wait, she is a walking, curry making Iblees!
I can’t deal with her any more.
So I just walked away. How could she bring up my past in an argument that had nothing to do with that.
But that was just the start of my past coming to haunt me.
I turned 21 this month but I feel like a 50 year old granny.
This last 3 years have been insane.
From being a naïve girl on campus, to falling in love with Moe, to him breaking my heart to moving home, having an enegagement break… so much has happened.
And I felt like I just couldn’t cope.
So I litrally freaked out at my husband.
He just complained about being bored one afternoon and I litrally lost my cool.
I freaked out at him.
I don’t know what shaitaan overcame me.
I said so many thing I regret now.
He didn’t deserve that at all.
I can’t believe what I said to him.
“You idiot! You are a coward. You don’t know how to treat a wife. I don’t know why I married you!”
And the poor guy kept silent and walked away.
My mother over heard my outburst and also just avoided me.
It was okay to get angry once in a while surely?
But my mother didn’t seem to think its normal…
She insisted I go and see a psychologists.
“It will help…”
“No. I don’t want to go.”
‘Well your father said you have no choice…”
I went grudgingly.
I just stared at the shrink at first. Annoyed.
“I am not looney.”
“I know you not looney. So tell me about yourself.”
“What do you want to know? I live in Durban and I am married.”
“That’s not about yourself.”
“I don’t know what you want to know.”
“Just tell me about yourself.”
“I don’t know who I am.”
“Maybe that is a good starting point…”
“What do you mean?”
“Maybe the problem is that you don’t know yourself?”
She kept silient.
“There is so much going on. How must I know who I am?”
Actually sitting and talking about my experiences gave me perspective.
It cleared things for me.
Talking about it made me understand myself.
Between the tears, the fits of rage and the ucontrolled laughter I realised that I am just a Guji Girl caught between culture, religion, wealth and age.
So I come from Newcastle…
So I studied for a bit at UJ…
So I fell foolishly in love with a terrible guy…
So I had my heart broken over and over again…
So I had a samoosa run…
So I can make red velvet cupcakes in my sleep…
So I am now married…
But what I need to ask myself now, who do I want to be? What do I want to be known for? And honestly, what legacy would I like to leave?
I know this all seems so serious and it just makes me want to dig into home made chocolate ice cream… but it makes sense.
Beyond the Dubai trips, big Houghton house, amazing husband, awesome recipes, extravagant shopping trips, tons of makeup, and edited instagram pictures… who am I?
And what can I contribute to the world around me?
It has been a long, long journey since Diary of a Guji Girl started in May of 2013.
It started as a joke, but we have developed a family along the way.
There were good posts and terrible ones.
There were typos and ill used Guji words.
But it was also funny and enlightening.
I had fun writing it as much as you had fun reading this blog.
This year though has been a rollercoster. It seems like an excuse. But sometimes reality catches up and you can’t do what you love- for me that is blogging.
For those on campus know what’s it like to be in final year on campus. The assignments don’t stop, the tests look like French but they are actually Latin and the exams almost killed me.
Add that to not one but two full time, demanding day (but I worked nights too) jobs.
Then add in consolidating a book, seeing to daily chores plus dozens and dozens of public engagements.
Sometimes I would write a post in a random stadium in the middle of an informal settlement while I waited for Zuma to address his supporters.
Once I wrote two full posts while camping outside the offices of politicians.
But once elections was over, I was going to take it easy, focus on the publishing of Diary of a Guji Girl into book form and post regularly. That was the plan.
But there appeared to be a Greater plan.
As many of you know, I was victim to a traumatising incident in June this year where all my possessions were stolen.
In that was my prized manuscript of the Diary of a Guji Girl book.
Yes, I did back up. But they stole all my back ups too.
I was devastated, but that was not as bad as the writer’s block that came asa result of that terrifying experience.
So posts were tardy and of poor quality. I blogged because I had to blog not because I had so many ideas floating in my head.
And then the cyber bulling intensified.
I thought I had a tough skin as a political writer, but it killed me when usually lovely Muslim girls spewed vile at me over the fact that I did not post.
It was by far most demotiviating.
But then I came to the realisation that I was not blogging for others. I started doing it for myself and I should stick to that.
And with that attitude I managed to rewrite the (entire) Diary of a Guji Girl manuscript and adjust it a million times thereafter in a effort to perfect it for you the reader.
So when is the book going to be out?
Honestly, your guess is as good as mine.
I am taking it in my stride and taking each day as it comes.
We cannot control the enevitable.
This brings me to the most important part of this note; this is the finale of Diary of a Guji Girl, pending the release of the book.
It has been a fun ride. It was the centre of many conversations. It was amazing.
But good things need an end too.
I am so excited to share the complete book with you.
I hope it to be entertaining, emotional and at the same time it should prompt reflection and discussion.
Writing Diary of a Guji Girl has been life changing. I learnt so much about myself in the process.
And it would have not passed the first few (badly written) posts with you.
So, I thank you my dear readers for the support and patience.
I hope you enjoy the book when it is released. I promise to give you details as soon as I have the go ahead to do so.
This is not the end of Diary of a Guji Girl. This is the start of a fantastic engagement…
Peace and prosperity
Oh, and another exciting project is in the pipeline. And when I say exciting, I really mean it.
Zainub and I were getting closer.
We had more things in common now that her boyfriend and my husband were friends.
We would hang out every day at campus and sometimes she would come with me home if we finished early.
Like I said, she was pretty decent. She wore a scarf most days and you could see she was trying really hard to be a good Muslim.
But I felt bad for keeping it away from her that her boyfriend’s family wouldn’t approve of her.
“We should double date,” she suggested.
“What? Like me and Suhail and you and Imran go out?”
“Ya… it would be nice.”
“Ya it’s a good idea.”
But when I suggested it to my hubby, he freaked out.
I sometimes forget how morally upstanding he is.
“How can we go on a double date! They are secretly dating. It is wrong! If they were married it could be different. But they not.”
I was just trying to help my friend out…
I felt a pang of anger though when my hubby freaked out.
I mean, he stills hangs out with those engineering girls.
That’s wrong too.
And he hangs out with them without me around.
Its really bugging me.
Like at times I can’t even concentrate on my work.
Talking of campus work, its really boring me.
I’m not as interested as I used to be.
So I started bunking a lot of lectures.
I mean I live quite close by, and now that I have my own car, its easy for me to just go home and watch series before my hubby gets home.
Being a good doting husband gets tiring at times.
And its tough without support.
Anyways, so on Friday I went for my 8am lecture but went straight home afterwards.
I decided to have a proper Friday lunch.
“Hun, I am cooking a lot for lunch… you can bring whoever home.”
“You sure? We can just have sandwhiches or something?”
“No, its fine.”
One thing about my hubby is that he really tries to make life easy for me. It sweet. But sometimes its frustrating. Because he is so kind.
Thankfully, my mother alread prepare dhal and freezed it for me.
So I just had to defrost it and add finising touch ups.
I boiled the rice, and fried papar.
I was so lazy to make salad so I went quick to Musgrave centre to buy a salad from Woolies and coke.
I invited Zainub over and some of her friends.
All in all, it was four girls and six guys.
So I knew my hubby would freak out if I set one table.- you know how prickly he is about males and females being seperated.
So I set two separate tables.
It reminded me of my Jo’burg days at Mariam’s house.
Her baba must be so big now.
That reminds me, I must skype her soon.
At least we still keep in touch.
All that pre-marriage drama didn’t affect us.
Gosh I am so glad all the drama is over.
Anyways, so after Jummuah everyone came to eat.
Suhail was actually very happy that I took time to cook for his friends.
We all started eating, when Imran started raising his voice about something.
“Who bought this salad form Woolworths?”
Huh? What is his deal.
Turns out, I was the biggest sinner for supporting Woolworths.
“We have to boycott Woolworths. They have the blood of the Palestinians on their products.”
Okay. Maybe that is a little extreme.
He insisted we take it off the table.
What’s his deal. I mean you can’t come to someone’s house and throw a tantrum.
Zainub looked so used to it.
He is really extreme.
Later Suhail explained it to me.
“Hun. You see, in Palestine over 2000 people were killed. And we can’t accept that. So the only thing we can do is boycott companies that support Israel so that it puts pressure on Israel to stop killing innocent Palestinians.”
But I will die without Woolies!
“It is a small sacrifice hun.”
Yeah… shame, may it is just a small sacrifice.
Suhail knew I was not happy but gave in anyways- so he laughed and hugged me.
“When I look like a granny wearing Sameera kaftans because I can’t buy clothes form Woolies then you musn’t complained,” I said sulkilly
“You look great in anything hun.”
I was really lucky to have such a loving husband.
I mean we fight a lot- but that’s normal I guess.
“I love you more than anything in the world,” he said still embracing me.
“Even more than your engineering girl friends?”
Ag. I have no filter sometimes.
He let go of me and looked annoyed.
“You know Amina… I don’t get you sometimes.”
I kept quiet.
“I say I love you. I married you to prove it. And you still doubt me.”
“I have reason to.”
“You don’t! I have never been anything but faithful to you!”
“But what? From the day I met you! You have always been my number one girl regardless of whatever you were… nevermind.”
“No, say it!”
“What I am trying to say is you have to trust me.”
“No… say what you wanted to say!”
“Calm down Amina!”
“No. You think you got the upper hand in the marriage because I was dumped not once but twice and you saved me.”
“What rubbish. I just said. I love you more than anything in the world.”
“Then why do you hang out with those girls so much? Huh?”
“We are only doing work… I told you this before. I think you are projecting your insecurities on me.”
“I am not insecure! YOU are LUCKY to have me as a wife!!!”
You know how they say the past always comes back to bite you?
That is where I am now.
Even in another city, the past is here.
So you know that my hubby and I moved to Durban.
At first I didn’t want to… but then I realised I was really getting bored at home.
So going back to campus was really nice.
Although it is a bit tough to manage house work and studying.
Luckily my mother sends food every week so I don’t have to cook.
And I have a nice maid to clean up.
Gosh, I forgot what its like.
UKZN is different to UJ.
The people are a lot more friendlier and there isn’t that huge emphasis on money and wealth.
I am sure it is like that in some circles.
But a lot of the people I met are fairly simple.
Anyways, back to the real issue.
I have a serious issue with these girls that spend so much of time with my husband.
And you know how he was a bitchaari at UJ?
Now he is like the cool guy on campus. Its so uncool.
Maybe because at Howard JK, having a beard is normal and quite popular.
But I mean its unfair.
He spends so much of time with his friends.
Okay. Fine. He doesn’t have to hang out with me on campus but after campus?
Why must he play soccer with them.
And these boys are single! They will influence him.
Its always been difficult for me to make friends.
So although I speak to a lot of people, I can’t really make friends.
There is one girl Zainub who is quite nice.
She is from Westville and studying a general BA like me.
Shame, she also has a lot of aawar.
She has class. Like me.
Not like those bad dressing engineering students that spend so much of time “studying” with my husband.
He thinks I am just jealous.
But how can I be jealous of those girls?! They dress so shabilly and have no sense of style.
“Hun, you know I don’t look at other girls.”
“But that doesn’t stop them from looking at you!”
He just laughs.
Girls don’t play. They go after someone they like.
We always find an excuse.
Like I didn’t care that Moe was seeing someone.
Oh gosh. Why did I bring Moe up now!
Shame but I do feel sorry for him.
I mean obviously I have no contact with him… especially after what happened… but my hubby was saying that he got divorced for a second time.
He married this girl I knew from Newcastle… real bitchaari Aalima.
I was so shocked when I heard they got married.
She was so so simple. I was so shocked.
But the marriage didn’t even last three months before she went home.
It is definitely his fault.
Ay I was saved!
But sometime you can’t help but think what life would have been like if we did get married.
I am happily married. Why am I thinking of another man?
So this weekend I decided to invite Zainub home for a meal.
My hubby said that he would go to campus to study and give us space.
So anyways, Zainub came for tea on Saturday afternoon.
I went crazy as usual baking a ton of things for just the two of us.
I also fried some savouries that my mother in law sent from Jo’burg.
Thank goodness she is a foodie like me and appreciated all my hard work.
And by appreciate I mean instagram my baking for daysss.
As we were chatting about marriage and life and what what, I found out that Zainub is dating one of my hubby’s new friends Imran.
What a small world!
But he is so super pious.
Apparenty they are dating quietly. Like nobody knows.
I mean my hubby would have said something.
On a second thought, he wouldn’t have.
He doesn’t talk about other peoples business.
It drives me mad.
He won’t even tell me who is driving me what.
You know I thrive on punchaat.
But I mean the fact that Zainub and Imran are dating is huge.
She is quite modern for him though.
We had a good time talking and she left when my hubby came back from campus around Asr time.
That night we decided to go for a walk on the beach.
It was romantic of him to suggest it.
So as we walking I mention to him that Zainub was dating Imran.
He wasn’t surprised but looked like he was hiding something.
“What do you know?”
“I know you better than that!”
“Oh his parents are forcing him to go see Aalima girls to get married.”
SHAKE MY HEAD! Even 600 kms away from Jo’burg, the same thing happens.
What is wrong with this world?!
This has been long time coming!
A report back on the fantastic high tea fundraiser Diary of a Guji Girl held on August 26 in Houghton Johannesburg.
Where do I start? It was that amazing.
But let me start at the beginning.
As many of you may know, the event was announced in a short period of time.
I had barely 10 days to pull together a function which I have never done before.
Especially with the (great, yet stressful) idea to partner with Lifestyle with Safeera Kaka, it appeared to be a logistical nightmare at first.
Then there was sorting out a menu, sound and décor.
It was definitely not in my scope of experience. Give me a rally or a protest any day.
So, on Wednesday I woke up bright an early to prepare for the event and set up.
When I arrived at the crack of dawn at the Shepstone Gardens, I was amazed at how it never loses its beauty.
The stone walls and manicured gardens is so refreshing, you get lost in another world.
But soon thereafter, I kicked off my shoes and began setting up- or bossing people around.
From 10:30 guests started arriving.
They were met with a lovely triffle tour from Mariam Fakir who so generously sponsored a piece of edible art.
Also, a creative edible Palestinian flag made out of macarons by the wonderful Tasneem Jadwat.
Also, BDS SA set up their pamphlets and banners so that the ladies were well informed.
The guests mingled about for half an hour or so, until they were seated and began munching on the amazing treats.
We preferred less movement, so we pre set the treats by Aunty Asfia from Mayfair West on the tables.
We also had fresh fruit served, courtesy of Aunty Zohra from Jilbaab.
But defnitely the highlight of the delecacies was the stunning cupcakes by I Love Cake by Mehnaaz. The incredibily sweet Mehnaaz sponsored all the cupcakes for the event. It was such a hit! And what was left over was sold to the guests. I was left craving for more.
In addition to the lovely cupcakes, we had the closest the best macarons you would have outside of France.
Mohammed from C’est mon Macaron was so kind to have sponsored a wide assortment of macarons which again, some ladies packed to take home. It was that good! I regret not having a second one!
At 11 am, we started the live broadcast of the event which was by many accounts most inspirational.
Think about this magic line up: Safeera Kaka from Cii, Suraya Dadoo the author of Why Israel, Tasneem Basha who is a motivational speaker, Zahira Bham from the Caring Womens Forum, Sumayya Omar from BDS and Fatimah Haffajee from Cii.
It was truly something incredible.
And, ladies didn’t leave empty handed.
Those who won in the live quiz walked away with vouchers from Seven Seas Spa, a recipe book by Vanilla Sugar, vouchers from Dazzling Gloss and a hamper from Jilbaab.
Nobody left empty handed though.
The wonderful Tasneem from Seven Seas Spa kindly sponsored vouchers for every single guest. It was amazing! Ladies can now go for full body swedish massages for only R100. Seven Seas Spa is no stranger to Diary of a Guji Girl and we were so happy to have them on board.
Guest left Shepstone Gardens with filled tummies, an array of information on Palestine and tons of inspiration.
It was a day of learning, reflection and most of all giving back to the world.
Jazakillah to our guest speakers and all the ladies who attended!
And to our generous sponsors, the event would have not been a success without you.
Seven Seas Spa
082 888 0283
084 800 4082
076 587 2063
I love Cake by Mehnaaz
Tell: 011 022 2802
Inc Designs by Fatimah
Crystal Leaf Decor
083 515 1222 – Amiena
083 377 7551 – Cassim
Sumayya Mohammed Photography
We hope all our readers can join us at our next events!
Peace and love
You remember how giggly I was on the first day of campus?
I was obsessed over what I wore and how I looked.
Now its my first day at UKZN but all I can think about is whether my laundry will dry by the time I come back from campus.
As we sat in traffic on Musgrave Road I had a “why am I doing this?” moment.
I didn’t think I would go back to campus.
And again, I don’t know anyone here.
Its hard for me to make friends.
I am sure I am not going to have friends here.
But at least I have my hubby.
So I get my admin sorted out early and then start going to lectures.
I don’t have that many lectures so hopefully it won’t affect my housework.
I still want to cook nice things for my husband but I guess there would be a lot less pressure now that we are on our own.
In my first lecture I sat next to a group of Muslim girls that were really odd.
They laughed at everything.
At first I was annoyed but their laughter was so infectious.
I started laughing too.
Then when they saw that I joined in their laughter they erupted in a louder fit of laughter.
These girls were cray, cray.
I chose media studies, English, sociology and psych.
I know… it seems a little disjointed but I guess its all interesting subjects.
Honestly speaking, I was just there to pass time.
English seemed a lot harder than anticipated, psych was interesting but confusing and sociology was just a lot of bogus theories.
At around 2pm I was done for the day and decided to go to the JK.
That is where most Muslim girls hang out.
The vibe at UKZN’s JK was different from UJ.
It was chilled and they had wifi.
Also, a lot of people use it to study.
Oh, and they had a microwave to warm your lunch.
When I walked in there were a few girls studying and a few resting.
There wasn’t crazy chatter and everyone seemed to mind their own business.
The bathroom was different though.
Those crazy laughing girls were there.
And guess what they were doing? Yes. Laughing.
The one girl was red with laughter.
The other girl was almost on the floor as she was clutching her tummy.
There HAS to be something wrong with these girls!
Eventually they calmed down.
“Are you okay?” I asked cautiously.
“Yes… We are just crazy! We are so overwhelmed with work. So we laugh,” the one girl said.
I started laughing too.
I guess when there is nothing else you can do, laugh.
They seemed to be a really nice bunch- but immature.
They were studying Psych as their majors and so media studies was just a filler.
I wanted to leave at around 3 but Suhail was only going to be done at 5!
I had to wait for him!
So I decided to get my textbooks.
But it took me 15 minutes to get done and I still had to wait for Suhail.
So I went and sat in the study room adjacent to the JK.
Apparently that is where the punchaat happens.
One girl was tearing because she was told that if she fails one more time she will be excluded from university.
I introduced myself and made small talk.
Most of the girls there were studying fluffy degrees like me.
I guess that’s why they have time to chill around.
But I could sense some politics when I asked about the MSA.
I don’t know what was the issue but there was definitely an issue.
Finally Suhail messaged me.
Hubby: Hun, I am ready to leave.
Me: Okay I am coming down.
Hubby: Sorry to keep you waiting.
Me: Its no problem. See you soon.
As I gathered my stuff to leave I saw two girls moving the curtain and peaking down at the guy’s prayer section.
“That is the one. Cute right?” the one said.
“Yeah. I think he is doing his masters in engineering.”
“He is new… we must find out.”
There has been a host of interest in our High Tea event in collaboration with Lifestyle with Safeera Kaka and Cii Projects.
We only have 150 tickets on sale and ALL proceeds go to the Gaza Ambulance drive.
So why should you come?
-High on my love list is the venue.
Shepstone Gardens is stunning. Scratch that. It is unbelievable. You mouth will hang open in awe- as mine does.
I had no idea this great, great beauty is down the road from my house, tucked away in a side road close to Houghton, Johannesburg.
Besides our amazing menu, we also have incredible treats lined up for our guests.
If you looking for a treat to change your life, then C’est mon Macron will. I promise you.
And they were so kind as to give us freshly made macarons for the function. Seriously, you will be dying for more.
Cupcakes from I love Cake by Mehnaaz. Need I say more?
Edible artwork from Mariam Fakir… and tons of other things.
Spa vouchers up for grabs from Seven Seas Spa. Everyone gets one.
- The line-up
Who doesn’t know the inspirational Safeera Kaka who would be hosting the show live on Cii!
We also have the author of Why Israel, Suraya Dadoo, who is an ocean of information.
And of course, we do want to know why we should BDS. We have the ever friendly Sumayya Omar from BDS South Africa who will make a presentation.
This is just the half of it.
We have tons of gifts to give away. But more than anything else, while the high tea promises to be an amazing morning, it is for a sincere cause.
We can get together, socialise, lean from each other but, most importantly, reaffirm our commitment to uplifting humanity.
It is always about purpose and perspective.
-The cause, most importantly.
The Cii Ambulance Drive is a worthy cause and needs our support.
Come join us. You won’t regret it.
Email me firstname.lastname@example.org to book your ticket.
The flat in Morningside was much, much better than the Sparks Road flat.
It actually had a proper kitchen.
And we had a bit of a garden!
And I was happy to see my stuff from my Houghton house was transported there.
I had all my pots and pans.
Also, the furniture was nice. Not amazing, but okay.
The only problem we had was that my car was still in Jo’burg. And with my hubby sorting his life out, it leaves me alone in a flat where I don’t know anyone.
Also, I needed to buy groceries.
Like proper groceries.
But my husband was so focused on his studies.
It was seriously frustrating.
And even though I used to go to Durban quite often, I didn’t know my way around.
I spent two weeks in doors.
Do you know what that does to your soul?
I couldn’t even cook properly.
It is so frustrating.
Oh, and I didn’t even have a punchaat line connected so I could call my mother!
How do other girls do it?
Spend the whole day sitting in a tiny flat?
I felt ike I have no window to the world.
I didn’t know what’s going on the news, what are the latest trends or what’s on sale!
My only human contact was my husband in the evening!
He kept saying I must go and make friends with the neighbours but I am not like that.
It takes me a long time to make friends.
And I can’t just show up at their houses empty handed and make conversation.
I know there was a few Muslims living in the building because of the 786 number plates.
But I didn’t know any more.
They don’t prepare you for this part of marriage.
I feel like I have been thrown into a jungle called the real world.
And I don’t know who I am or what I want out of my life.
I mean yes, I enjoy cooking and baking.
But now its just the two of us.
And, I don’t have all the stuff I had when I was staying with my mother in law.
I love my husband with all my heart but I feel like I am just an addition to him.
He has all these plans and goals. I don’t have anything like that.
I thought I would get married and have kids.
I got married and I will have kids.
But what else?
And because I have nothing to do and nothing to claim as my own, I am fighting more and more with my hubby.
Every night we have some argument.
Then one afternoon, just after Zuhr, Suhail comes home and tells me to get ready.
“Where are we going?”
“We are going to get groceries. Then we going to get you into campus.”
“Get ready hun.”
I gave in.
Suhail took me to Musgrave centre to do grocery shopping.
I went a little crazy filling the trolley but he had to remind me that we are once again on a student budget.
Also, I didn’t have my in laws to rely on.
I gritted my teeth but then took it easy.
Its a small sacrifice.
Once we were done, we went to UKZN.
It is actually a nice campus.
A bit like UJ but it seemed the people were a little friendlier.
Also the “ekse’s” and “eish man’s” were a lot more.
Some Durban people have crazy accents.
It used to make me cringe. Now I just laugh at it.
We went to the humanities department and tried to negotiate my way in.
I was so desperate to do something, I didn’t even care what I would be studying.
After pleading and explaining, eventually the Dean said there was a place to do a general BA degree.
Also, at first they didn’t want to consider the one year I did at UJ in teach but then after much pleading, they agreed.
So I just needed to pay my deposit and I was officially a second year student at Howard Campus.
I knew no one on the campus besides my husband.
It reminded me of my first day at UJ.
Remember how I only knew Moe. And actually on my first day there, I met Suhail.
When I met that shy boy in a white kurta, I had no idea he would be my husband.
So much has happened since that day I met him, the day we got married and now.
The drama was immense.
Oh gosh. You would never understand what I had to go through.
Its a lesson though. They way you think your life will turn out and how it actually turns out is worlds apart.
I mean… who would have thought I would marry Suhail and end up in Durban of all places?!
PS: Time is running out. Seriously. Email email@example.com
I was horrified when we eventually got to Durban.
I plain. Bare. Tiny flat in Overport.
This is what I now have to call home.
There was absolutely nothing there.
Okay, fine there was basic furniture. But the operative word is “basic”.
I couldn’t deal.
And my husband didn’t even feel perturbed at all.
He was fine with it!
I left Houghton for this place.
And there were gangster-ish looking people in the driveway.
I am not even kidding you.
The entire size of the flat was the size of our study in Houghton.
Oh, and don’t let me get started on the kitchen.
I was so cross.
But more cross at the fact that my hubby didn’t tell me anything.
He doesn’t discuss important things with me!
And when we arrived, he didn’t even help me unpack our clothes.
He already dashed off to sort out his campus stuff.
What must I do the whole day sitting in a match-box of a flat?
I didn’t tell him anything because he should have known.
How can he expect me to live like this.
And there wasn’t even a big enough window for me to stare outside all day.
This was a real test!
I was so frustrated I just laid in bed all day.
When my husband got home from his gallivanting I ignored him completely!
“So… I am starting classes next week,” he said.
“You are not excited?”
“So I don’t have to spend that much of time on campus… but the thesis would be hard work.”
“What did you do today?”
“Nothing… exactly what I am going to be doing every day when you on campus.”
“Nobody said you can’t do anything.”
“Yes but you just concerned about your plans and future!’
“Its not true…”
“Did you cook?”
Then I snapped.
“How can you just expect me to cook? We have nothing cook! And look at this kitchen! It is just terrible. You just do your own thing and expect me to cook! Its madness!”
He just kept quiet and walked away.
I heard him calling to order food.
I was angry. And I think I had a right to be.
I mean he can’t just come and demand things from me.
Later on he came to the room and gently called me to come and eat.
I was tempted to say I was not hungry but gave in.
When I entered our tiny dinning room/ lounge I was surprised to see my hubby going out of his way to have romantic supper.
I smiled shyly.
Gosh! It is hard to stay mad at this man.
He bought a bouquet of flowers which he left on the table next to my food.
He also gave me a key.
“Our proper flat is still being renovated in Morningside. This is my cousin’s flat which he rents out. I was going to surprise you when it was done.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“It was supposed to be a surprise dummy!”
“When can we see it?”
“Thank you Suhail! I am so excited!”
Author’s note: Tickets are going hot and fast for our special, special high tea fundraiser in collaboration with Lifestyle on Cii and Cii Projects.
Remember all proceeds are going to the Gaza ambulance drive.
We have awesome prizes for lucky guests. Think recipe books, macarons and amazing spa giveaway.
If you haven’t secured your seat please email me: firstname.lastname@example.org.
Peace and kindness.
Packing. It is definitely not for the faint hearted.
But reapplying to a brand new university is worse!
My hubby is going to UKZN to do his masters in engineering. He is accepted and ready to go.
I need to make up my mind.
Should I continue with teaching?
But the only teaching campus is Edgewood, which I heard was really dodgy.
Maybe I must study Psych and if I decide to do teaching afterwards then I could always swap over.
But Psych is tough.
Finally I applied for a general Bachelor of Arts degree, just so that I could study something and be on the same campus with my hubby.
I can’t deal with making a whole lot of new friends.
And being introverted doesn’t help.
My parents were not keen about my hubby going back to campus but eventually they got around it.
I am just happy to move away from my in laws.
There has been a ceasefire between me and and my mother in law but there is still tension.
After 25 years she is now a ‘stay at home mum’ and her kid doesn’t really need her.
I never want to be like that though. Being so emotionally vested in a job. I guess that’s all she had.
The sad reality is that she is trying to catch up lost time with her son- and its too late.
But emo garbage aside, there is stuff to pack.
At least we don’t have to pack up much of our house stuff because my hubby’s family recently bought a flat in Durban.
Our family flat is in on the beach front, but apparently the Durban beach is actually getting really dangerous.
I asked my hubby where their flat is and he said its on Sparks road.
I almost had a heart attack!
Have you seen what Sparks Road in Overport looks like?
It is like Fordsburg but on steroids.
Actually it is like a modernised Indian gaam.
It is so busy and apparently drugs is a real thing!
I mean I have nothing against people living in Overport, but seriously. Overport!
Moving from Houghton to Overport. No.
I started dreading the move.
“Maybe I must ask my father if we can stay at our beach flat?” I asked my hubby.
“No. We got a bachelor flat on Sparks Road. It will be fine.”
A bachelor flat???
Where am I going to put my clothes?
And I need all my clothes. And make-up. And scarves. And jewellery.
Where is it going to fit?
I started panicking now.
“You really want to go to Durban?”
“It’s a bit late now. We moving in three days!”
“Ya, but I didn’t even see the place.”
“What’s there to see. It is just for two years.”
“I know… but.”
My hubby kinda ignored me and continued the packing.
We taking all my clothes, his clothes, a few linen stuff and other valuables.
I was optimistic at first but now I am just frustrated.
Men and just so selfish.
He didn’t even both to consult me before applying in Durban.
And I don’t have any news of my acceptance.
So what must I do all day?
Sit and count the cars that drive past on Sparks road?
Ladies! I am excited. Seriously excited.
Here is the load down on the Diary of a Guji Girl fund-raiser with Cii projects on August 27 at Shepstone Gardens.
Lifestyle with Safeera Kaka has jumped on board and they will be hosting the programme LIVE. Basically, guests would be part of a live audience.
The programme, as it looks thus far, is mind blowing!
Also, we have incredible news.
I love Cake by Mehnaaz has kindly offered an array of her amazing eats.
And, and, C’est mon Macaron has joined in offering our special guests a choice of their incredible macarons.
That’s not all. Seriously. We have spa vouchers from Seven Seas Spa too!
I am incredibly excited. And that is not the half of it.
Book your ticket at R280 per person by emailing email@example.com
Remember, all proceeds will go towards humanitarian work in Palestine!