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anolddiabolikloversblog · 2 years

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May I have a Sakamaki match-up? Delete if not comfortable, stay hydrated and take frequent rests!

I'm 5'5/5'4 and I look kinda like this(made on picrew)

I'm a afab genderfluid(he/they) bisexual with a preference for guys! (Though I do like dressing up femininely) I got a buncha scars on my left arm and a mole on my left shoulder, I got alot of scars since I can be impulsive and straight up stupid. I also have surprisingly good but also mad memory at the same time, like I could remember the fnaf lore but then forget what I had for lunch

When you first meet me, I'm really quiet and shy, avoiding eye contact at all cost because I get nervous.

When you know me though, I turn into a lazy, egotistical and smug bastard who makes sex and depricating jokes. And I will flirt and feed you if I like ya. I'm an emo drama art kid so it explains me being 💅💅💅

I tend to get crushes easily but I also would get over em fairly quickly, think 2 or 3 days

A negative is that I can be considered heartless because I bottle up my emotions alot and cope by sleeping or just flirting with friends

Extra trivia!:

I'm a scorpio INTP

I have ADHD and dyslexia which makes it lowkey hard to write stuff

I am a racoon, I act and look like one because of my eye bags(damn you unholy sleep schedule)

I managed to be both touch-replused and touch-starved at the same time... I like giving affection but not recieving

Tbh I'm basically a cat

When I get flustered I make a squeak, like a mouse and it will contiune for a looooong time

I tend to be somewhat sexual, but it's mostly for the funsies and I would stop if told

I will cry if you yell at me so pls don't

I got sharp teethers kinda like a vampire

I have a morbid fascination with alot of weird stuff, think of explicit art projects

I usually don't give physical reaction to pain, kinda just shrugs it off like "meh"

I'm actually a really picky eater

Sorry for rambling, hope you have a great day/night

Omg, we’re so similar! I’m an INTP as well, I cry if someone yells at me, I have ADHD, and my memory is good and bad at the same time, etc etc. I swear if it weren’t for the boys, you’d be matched with me, LMAO. XD

YOU’RE MATCHED WITH: Shu Sakamaki

Shu finds your characteristics interesting. You are a lot like him (and me). He doesn’t mind you being lazy, considering he’s lazy himself, he might find it annoying sometimes though. He definitely will tease you for the jokes, calling you things like “lewd” “shameless” “pervert”, etc. He may or may not tease you for the eye bags; depends on his moods to be specific. He likes the squeaks you make when flustered; Shu being the tease and pervert he is he will try to get you flustered so you squeak more often. He doesn’t really care if you are a picky-eater or not personally. He will hug you A LOT during sleep for “warmth”. Shu is perverted, but lazy, meaning in sex mostly you have to do the work. He enjoys your flirting, but he will tease you for it. He won’t really yell at you and considering that he isn’t much of a sadist, he doesn’t really find crying amusing so he will probably will avoid doing that. He thinks your teeth are hot, and tries to touch it sometimes.

(I couldn’t get the bullets in sorry about that, I hope this works, though.)

#Diabolik Lovers #dialovers #Shu Sakamaki #match up

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themadauthorshatter · 3 years

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I haven't really done one of these in a while

If Cal and Iris married AU/UA Part 3.5(to build up their relationship):

We're backtracking to Cal and Iris's blooming friendship, before the ball where Cal saved Orrec.

After training, Cal does some lessons and goes to the garage.

And gets a surprise visit from Iris herself; when he asks, she admits she's been "waiting in this oil reeking hole for thiry minutes."

"You didn't have to. I was going to come to dinner."

"I needed to see you. Alone, I mean."

"Any reason why?"

Iris shrugs, after a very awkward moment of silence. "I was just wonder when we would have that rematch, seeing as how you can't see how I won."

Cal chuckles and folds his arms. "I won that fight," he says with a slight tip forward.

"We shall have the rematch decide."

Cal gives a crooked smile and a nod. "Fine. Just don't cry when I win."

Iris chuckles at that and agrees.

She wishes him luck and leaves him to his machines, also telling him not to die underneath one of them; ending his life and happiness is her job, damn it.

It's another joke, which Cal contiunes by saying he'll just break his fingers for her.

Iris leaves and Cal gets to putting the finishing touches on the engine, looking back at where Iris left and smiling at how they didn't argue and didn't rub each other the wrong way.

Dinner is just as pleasant, though there is a very minor hiccup when Iris almost calls the servant Red rather than her name. It's minor and she catches it.

Cal notices both the slip up and the catch, but doesn't speak on it, not wanting to start a fight.

After dinner, Tibe and Orrec meet up and talk, both having noticed that Cal and Iris aren't as eager to kill each other. It's a step forward, to say the least, but it could just be an act for the adults, so they're placated.

Tibe shakes his head at the idea, explaining that Cal wouldn't do something like that; he's not a very good liar, if he even lies at all.

Orrec only hums at this, wishing Iris was the same, easy to read and too honest for her own good, though he does admit that Cal should maybe practice his lying, as being too easy to read will be his detriment as King.

Tibe simply mutters that it will be the least of his concerns, considering the new alliance and a new growing tension between the Nortan-Lakelander alliance and Piedmont, who was against it like absolutely no one's business.

Orrec has nothing to say to that because he knows very little about Piedmont, seeing as how that nation was loyal to Norta, and they possibly made a new enemy.

Neither elaborate on that, instead raising a glass and hoping for a slightly shorter war with Piedmont.

Back with the young and happy betrothed couple, Iris is in training as she stretches, noticing Cal discussing something with a general, and Evangeline approaches, asking if she's enjoying her stay in Norta.

Iris admits it's not home, but she's still having a fairly decent time, thanks to a certain prince who was surprising nicer than she had previously thought.

Evangeline agrees Cal is quite kimd, too much so in her opinion, but he's not an idiot. He'll find out that Iris is nothing but a liar and a manipulative bitch, being a Lakelander and all that. Iris only blinks at her and continues stretching, chiding her that unless she has something to say that's worth Iris's time, she can just go and bother her own betrothed.

Evangeline only stays where she is and scowls, sneering that Iris should know better than to be so daring when she's out of her territory, where her armies can't protect her.

Iris only ignores her and resumes stretching.

In one more effort to get some kind of reaction out of her, Evangeline reminds Iris that Cal isn't always going to to be around to protect her, and it's times like that where she should watch her back.

Iris raises an eyebrow at her, eyes darting slightly to over Evangeline's shoulder.

"What's going on over here?"

Evangeline turns and Iris stands, greeting Cal very warmly, though he, surprisingly, glares at Evangeline as he gently pulls Iris to his side and then pushes her behind him.

It's an action that DEEPLY wounds Evangeline, because he was supposed to be her betrothed, not Iris's.

"What?" She asks. "Are you her shield now? Last time I checked, she was our enemy."

"Not anymore," Cal growls. "And unless you want to start the war all over again, and be the one responsible for doing so, knock it off, Evangeline."

Evangeline scowls, a little broken hearted and angry, but Cal continues glaring, only stopping when he walks away with Iris, careful because she's looking between him and Evangeline.

Cal asks if she's okay, and if Evangeline did or said anything. Iris brushes it off, saying that, as she has proven to him in particular, she is fully capable of taking care of herself.

He knows she can, but he's her betrothed. He'll worry about her regardless.

Iris warns him to be careful, because he's getting his heart and his mind mixed up and that can get him killed, if he's not careful.

Cal gives her a simple, "Fine," and they go about training.

More awkward hijinks ensue, like the two helping each other stretch and Cal accidentally falls down, pulling Iris with him. He lands on his back and she lands on top of him. It catches everyone's eye and Maven can't help but cringe at it.

It gets worse when she stands, but her hair's tangled in the flame maker bracelet on Cal's wrist, so she's practically stuck on him and kind of kneeing and hurting him in an attempt to quickly get free.

People don't know what to do, so they all try not to laugh, completely out of nervousness because both Cal and Iris are beasts, Maven only groans into his hands from secondhand embarrassment, and Evangeline smirks at the display.

It's essentially a very loud, very jerky, VERY awkward tsngo between a couple about to marry that are night and day.

Worst part?

Tibe, Orrec, and Julian are watching, wanting to be witnesses, should Iris decide to try drowning Cal or Cal try to cook Iris alive. For Julian, the pain from watching the two of them is so immense that he can feel it on his skin. Tibe pinches the bridge of his nose and shakes his head and Orrec simply stands resolutely, because there's too much stuff he's feeling to properly express it.

It ends when the two calm down and Cal untangles her hair from his bracelet and says a pun to ease the tension.

It just makes Iris figure out a reason why Evangeline wouldn't want to marry him as she walks to a peice of training equipment, though Cal trails behind her because the comment was too below the belt for him.

The next day, Cal sees the Lakelander King himself, upon his request, of course.

"Hello, Tiberias."

"King Orrec," Cal says with a bow of his head.

Orrec shakes his head. "Please, leave niceties for an audience. It's just us here."

Cal nods and replies, "Alright."

"Tell me," he sort of asks-sort of lightly commands, "how are you and my daughter getting along?"

Thank goodness Cal is a soldier because, with the 'answer carefully or I'm going to tie your ankles to a cement block, empty a part of the ocean, as deep as possible, throw you in, and bring the tide as slowly as I can so you can think about raising a hand against my child as you drown(and the rope would sort of tether, so every time he's about to drown, the rope gives and he's above the water breathing as the water continues to rise, so he'll get tortured by the repeated drowning and the pressure from the depths of the sea)' eyes Orrec is giving him, he would TOTALLY run for his life.

Cal only gives a sigh. "We... weren't exactly friends, at first. I mean, we used to be a war for over a century, so of course we would be at odds."

Orrec nods. "True. Now may I what you meant by, 'at first?'"

Thinking back on their first normal conversation, and the efforts they're both making to not kill each other, Cal allows a small smile to grow on his face.

"We've been... getting along better."

"How so, exactly?"

Cal shrugs. "I mean, we're not fighting like we used to. And we're just getting along better now. I don't know," he admits with a head shake. "We're not... We don't hate each other, but we aren't fully comfortable with each other. Not yet, at least. Hopefully."

Orrec smirks at that, and gestures for Cal to come closer, more specifically for his hands, which Cal does.

After a second, Orrec speaks.

"I knew you were different from your father. You have oil in your nails."

Cal takes his hands back to check, and, yes, there is oil around his fingernails, which is just embarrassing.

"It may be foolish thinking, but, I'll admit, it's admirable. Hopefully Norta has a King that will try creating rather than destroying."

You'd better believe that Cal's thrown off by these words, even when Orrec thanks him for being the ine to marry Iris, not Maven, because his mother is Elara.

Orrec then makes Cal promise he will protect Iris, at the very least, should something happen like an attack.

He promises.

Later that week, Iris finds Calnin the garage again, but he's about to ride away on his cycle.

She asks where he's going and Cal, passes her his helmet, saying it's best he show her(she's already in casual looking clothes).

He takes her to a slightly higher end tavern in a Red village, and they simply enjoy some water and watch the hustle and bustle.

Yeah. Cal's still doing his "leaening about my people" thing, even though he's going to marry Iris, a Lakelander who probably has polar opposite thinking to him.

Like this, he can see that Reds aren't that different from Silvers. The only difference is power, which helps the Silvers lord over their inferiors.

It opens up her eyes very much so to who she's marrying.

We get more hijinks with them joking at their table, dancing, because it's fun and Iris isn't the best dancer, and even avoiding a bar fight because teo Reds ran into each other.

They leave before they're spotted.

When they arrive back, Cal escorts Iris to her room and admits that this trip wasn't his best and he'll make it up to her. Iris, though flattered, tells him to work on his puns because they need some tinkering.

More below the belt Cal's a little offended by, but he instead snickers that he's wearing off on her.

They share a laugh and Iris thanks Cal for being him, because, in all honesty, he's starting to make this whole thing easier.

Cal thanks her back and even kisses her hand, saying he looks forward to their marriage.

They stare at each other for a second, lost in each other's eyes, and share a kiss(Sorry Marecal shippers!!!).

They bid each other good night and go to bed.

It's all good and happy, but it's a shame that a couple weeks later, at the ball in Part 4, a spy tries a poison wine attack to end the alliance of Norta and the Lakelands.

Cal, keeping good on his promise, takes Orrec's glass, which is poisoned, and drinks from it, as to not set off a possible fire fight, one with guns, not real flames

#red queen #cal calore #tiberias calore vii #tiberias calore vi #maven calore #iris cygnet #orrec cygnet #poison tw #forbidden ship #ua #au

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wherediputtheeggs · 4 years

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i am made of memories

AO3

FF.net

Wattpad

Patroclus was the first to arrive. He came in no rain of glory, but rather a trudge of mud and blood. The sun had just crested the hill as you saw his shadow run towards the field and away from a bumbling cyclops. A satyr chases next to him, his hand in a white death grip against your old student’s dark skin. Your campers run to meet the pair, the few that are awake at this hour.

They reach them right as Patroclus and the satyr cross the border Thalias tree forms.

You see him stumble as the satyr trips, but he quickly pulls the satyr to the side. You turn back to the Blue House as a sword vaporizes the cyclops, looking forward to meeting your old disciple in this new form.

. . .

He calls himself Peter. The name is suitable, if too short for him. He seems unsurprised when he sees your equisetum side, although that may be the shock. He is quick to take to the mythology world, almost too quick. You see his eyes widen in awe at the sprawling campground, but merely nod when the gods are introduced. It is as if he knows about them forever.

He did, you suppose, in another life. Another life in another country, fighting a different war. But he does not remember the other wold. You can see it in the way he speaks stilted Greek, the way he has yet to have sure hands that hold no tremor.

You see it in the way he doesn’t know who his missing half is, the way he ignores the way his chest aches with the need for someone.

. . .

Your interactions with him are strange. He talks to you with a familiarity you haven’t seen since Annabeth last talked to you, but his movements are hesitant, unsure. You believe he is aching to remember you, you can see in his eyes, yet there is a barrier he knows not how to cross. It saddens you to see him act distant, but you know you must have patience.

Rome was not built in a day. You would know, you were there.

. . .

He is a son of Apollo.

There is a strange sort of irony in the matter, and you suppose this is the Fate’s idea of a joke. He seems angry when the burning sun appears above his dark curls, stomping out of the healing tent where he had just healed a fatal wound. He reconciles soon enough, moving his meager possessions into the Apollo cabin. He soon becomes a constant presence in the healing tent, his now steady hands healing with an ability you haven’t seen in ages.

He starts to remember soon after.

. . .

A stray arrow finds its way into a daughter of Demeter during capture the flag. She is close to where you are, and you are about to galloping over when Patroclus - Peter, you suppose - gets there first.

He whispers reassurance to the fallen girl, holding her head as she groans. He says something you cannot hear before snapping the shaft of the arrow, pulling the head out of her back, and covering the wound. He does not rely on the magic he could’ve had, and it strikes a strange sense of pride in you. The feeling grows when you see him grab nearby berries to create a paste that fights infection.

You taught him that a lifetime ago. He has to begin to remember who he was, you can see the memories flooding his mind.

You trot away before he notices your smile.

. . .

He makes few friends, but the ones he does he holds close.

There is a son of Athena, named Dio, who is fierce to the last bone. He seems strikingly familiar, but you push the thought of him away. He was not your student, you treat him as any other camper.

It is the son of Hephaestus that intrigues you more. He goes by Odin. It does not seem like he and Patroclus would be friends, but they are despite. Odin fights with a fervor that strikes you senseless, and he hates the god with the same passion. He has a particular dislike towards Posideden that worries you for when he meets Percy. You do not know the reason for this loathing, not really, but you have warned him not to anger the gods.

He had laughed with a cruel smile and replied, “They have given me no reason to not.”

You do not dwell on his response.

. . .

When summer is coming to a close, you extend the offer of staying year-round to all campers. You see the grief in Patroclus’s expression when he turns down the offer, and you ache to tell him to stay. You do not. You’ve learned better.

You watch with sad eyes as he crests the hill once again.

. . .

He’s back by December. He walks back into camp with deject strides and a haunted look in his eyes.

Dio rushes to his side as he makes eye contact with you. His endless stare pins even you down, the way his eyes are brimming with emotion that only comes from experiencing years of war.

You can see now, in the way his shoulders are raised, in the stillness of his hands, in those haunted eyes, that he has remembered his old life. You do not know what happened when he was home, but it was not good. Bad enough to bring back a life full of fighting and blood and pain. You hope he will not always keep that haunted look.You hear him crying by the lake later that night.. . .He is the first to come, but he is not the last.

. . .

{to be contiuned}

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charm-ng-blog · 7 years

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#Feminism...What it actually means for me

i have been requested to write from a few interested persons and today i chose an occasion of great importance to Women globally. This is my take on Feminism and what it actually means to me...

Please note: This is my very own experience, one that has shaped my life my views and my future

It was the year 1985 and my very 1st year at University, so i was this youngster excited about life and the adventure that this life will bring. A few months into the year, i found a part-time job at a Hotel managing the Creche in the afternoons. This job paid well and it suited my university hours, my parents concern was that as long as it did not interfere with my studies, other activities and it did not impede on my life where i had to give up one in lieu for the other, i could go ahead and take the job. I promised to try my best to balance everything and it worked like a charm. I was loving job, the money, the lifestyle it afforded me, it gave me a sense of independence and a nice taste of too.

One fine day, after i was done with my lectures and hour of study at the library, i went to the bus stop to catch the bus into the city centre, which was where i had my part-time job. Whilst waiting 2 buses had arrived and i boarded the first one as it said “City Centre - 9467″ - that was the bus identification number. I got onto the bus, paid for my ticket which was R1.50 and found a seat next to an elderly white woman. We smiled courteously at each other, i pulled out my book and began to read. On a first glance at looking for an empty seat, i did notice something odd, there were only “white folk” passengers on the bus but that didnt phase me in the least. I did observe though that the Bus Driver and Conductor was both Black African Gentlemen. They were decent and pleasant and dress in uniform. The conductor came up to me like he did with all the other passengers and clicked my ticket. We were well on our way on this bus ride. For the 1st time i will be dropped outside my place of work and would not have to walk a few blocks and this thought made me feel relieved. The route the bus took into the City Centre was through the suburbs, past the industrial part of the city, through the derelict part of the city which was controlled by gangsters, druglords, pimps and rife with prostitution. [and this is where i had that life altering experience] to get to the beautiful side of town, call it UpTown. One has to travel to DownTown to get through to UpTown.

Whilst the bus was entering DownTown and slowing down to a stop, i was grabbed by the scruff of my collar and thrown off the bus by a big burly white man who yelled abuse at me for boarding a “white’s only” bus. He cussed at me, cursed my fate and my birthright and spat at me for being a “Coolie”. I was in utter shock and could not even muster the courage to speak back. All i could see was the two African gentleman look at me helplessly and the all the white folk look on uninterested like this is something of an everyday occurrance. I gathered my strewn bag with my books, files and hotel uniform and began walking with my head down. I was petrified to look up or forward. I had no money or cash on hand. I clutched onto my bag like i was clutching onto my life and walked and walked and contiuned walking until a saw a familiar building. Every corner i turned i felt as though everyone was looking and smirking at me for the incident that happened and with every step i took my fear turned into anger. I finally got to work, went to the change room, changed into my soiled work clothes and reported for duty to a “white” female who lambasted me for wearing soiled clothes and dished out my duties for the afternoon. All i could think about all afternoon was “what did i do wrong?” I took the right bus that said “City Centre”, i paid for my trip and i sat quietly... One thing i did do was i made a mental note of the Bus No. 9467. My shift ended and i caught my lift home and the incident forced me to sleep in the car, not make chit-chat like i normally do. The other passengers noticed something was OFF with me but i put it down to not feeling well. I was dropped off at home and as soon as i walked into my house, i took just one look at my mom and and burst into tears falling into her arms. She let me cry for a good few minutes then sat me down at our breakfast nook and told me that whatever it is, it will pass and that she raised me to be a strong girl that can take on the world. I have no idea why she chose those specific words but i guess in retrospect those were the words i needed to hear not from just anyone but specifically from her. My mum may have assumed at that point in time, i suffered a heart-break because i saw her signal my dad not to come, not to worry she will handle me and help me through this, but this was not a heart-break, it was soul shattering !!! It changed me in ways i could not even imagine.

That evening i skipped dinner, and that definitely spelled a big problem to be noticed by the entire family, because I love food, my family called it my favourite pass-time, because i was always eating and my mom would say my outh was always moving. My dad knocked my room door and entered even though i did not permit him. He sat down beside me on the floor and all i could do was snuggle up to him to hide myself from this big bad world. i cried buckets and then he realised this is not just a heart-break, it was something more from the way i sobbed. My dad got me to straighten up and he saw the anger in my face and knew that my crying was not from a broken heart from sheer anger and frustration. He got me to a relatively calm state and then asked me what brought me to this state where i was shaking and sobbing in anger. He listened patiently and attentively as i related the incident and as i was relating the incident he could sense my agitation, frustration and anger at what had happened.

My dad very calmly spoke with me and calmed me down, got me to the dinner table. We had dinner and dessert and when i was almost back to my normal self, all bubbly and chatty, he had a chat with me. He explained to me the society we live in and how they had compromised on their beliefs to give us a better life and that was a good education. He gave me a deeper understanding about the effects of OPPRESSION and we had choices if we wanted to live that life or BE THE CHANGE that brings about a better life not only for myself but for others who may suffer a similar fate in the future. He explained to me about not using my heart but to think calmly with a clear mind before i did anything about the impact and the consequences of my actions and then only should i think about any form of retaliation. He told me that if i wanted to change something i needed to be on the inside because throwing stones from the outside is not going to have a positive effect but rather an antagonistic effect. My dad asked to do a bit of research before i decide to act to know what it is was dealing with. he asked me to do a simple exercise, to walk into our campus Admin Blocks where our HOD’s DEANS and Professors offices are and asked me to take look around and what did i see. I did that only to find that it was all LILLY WHITE with far sprinklings for brown interspersed for namesake probably. He made me understand that NOT all white people are bad or racist and that we should not discriminate based on colour, creed, class or status. My dad made me understand that to effect change, i had to be that CHANGE and it would not come easy because it would be changing people’s mindsets, their way of thinking and doing things that has become a habit and a way of life. He asked me to think carefully, long and hard about this road ahead if i wanted to embark on this journey of effecting change then i had to be mentally and emotionally prepared for it. My dad left me with once very impactful statement...’SERVICE TO GOD IS SERVICE TO MANKIND AND SERVICE TO MANKIND IS SERVICE TO GOD”

That night i went to bed after the deep discussion with my dad about the events of the day and all i knew was “I HAD CHANGED” I was not the same girl i was when i had left home that morning. The carefree 18 year old that wanted only to get through the day of lectures and the study hour at the library, to clock in and then wait for the minutes to tick by so that i could go hang out with my campus friend by the lake and just soak up the rest of the day in sheer laziness until it was time to head back home. I tossed and turned that night with all the happenings of the day swirling around in head, everything on loop.... I eventually got out of bed and sat at my study table and began writing. This letter was to set the course for my future as this incident shaped me as person, my thinking and my perspectives and my future as well. I wrote a letter to the Editor of a leading Daily Newspaper, a White Newspaper. I stated my name, my age, where i was from and who i was and set about writing my thoughts in a clear and concise sequence of events relating the events of that fateful day. After pages of writing, i found an envelope and sealed and marked it “To The Editor”. The next morning i went to my aunt, boarded an early morning train with her into the City Centre and walked blocks to the building that housed the Daily Newspaper. I told security that i wanted to see the editor as i had a letter for him but the security guard promptly steered me to a metal box that read “Letters for the Editor” i dropped the letter into the box with a hopeful sigh and headed back to the station to catch the next train back home. Through the hour long train journey, i felt a sense of relief but also a sense of pride of who i was. I was proud to be Indian, i was proud of my roots, i was proud of my culture and i realised that i didnt want to change who i was but i wanted to change the thinking about who we are and what we are. I wanted to change “IGNORANCE TO ENLIGTENMENT” is what i wanted to do. Those people on the bus did not know who i was, they were ignorant to facts about Indian people but had they known better that we no different to them, that would effect positive change for all of us.

A week passed, the Monday after the week. I walked into the cafeteria and saw groups of students huddled reading the newspaper. I managed to grab bits of the headline which read “ NON WHITE GIRL GETS THROWN OF A WHITES ONLY BUS”. My heart stopped and my stomach began doing loops. I went to one of the students and asked who published this article and a guy in a loud voice said, this article is published on the front page by the editor. My entire letter was published on the front page of the daily newspaper. This guy was the secretary of our Student Representative Council and an ardent activist. I did not realise that when i wrote this letter to the editor i had stated all my information, which university i was studying at, the year i was in, my student number, the degree i was studying for and the hotel i had a part-time job at. The Secretary Of the SRC was on his way to Administration to look for this girl when i stopped him and showed him my student number on my ID card. He was excited and took me to the SRC office to meet the other council members. What happened next was something i never expected in my wildest dreams, my article sparked a revolution of sorts and a massive planned march and gathering was being planned to speak out against this incident, the oppression and the atrocities we suffer because of it. All the SRC’s of all the universities planned a march to speak out and form a collective voice against oppression in every form. This was the CHANGE my dad was taking about, being on the inside. This march sparked the fate of many who joined the revolution and the fight against oppression and discrimination. The youth, black, white, indian, coloured, chinese, anyone and everyone came out in numbers to support this movement of LIBERATION. It was this such occasion that made me realise what my dad meant about having a voice...BE THE CHANGE... A single act, not to defame or hurt anyone but to merely bring to the attention of an uninformed few how the other marjority actually lives was my intention but this tiny letter sparked a revolution of thousands of oppressed unhappy souls who were looking for an outlet to vent and my letter provided it.

We marched in unison, singing songs of united we stand, divided we fall and we got noticed and the small steps to liberation began. But in all of this, the greater scheme of things, i was fighting my own oppression, whilst i was happy, excited and overwhelmed all at the same time, i had feelings of fear and regret that i may get expelled from campus, i have let down my family because my parents funded my education, i felt gulity about letting them down and not fullfilling my end of the bargain. In the weeks to the build-up to the march, i used to give my dad updates about what was going on and all he used to say to me was that there is no greater liberator than an educated mind. He did not stop me from being part of this revolution but he also reminded me of the importance of an education and the purpose it served. I chose to continue with my studies and ventured into social activism, helping NGO’s and Welfare Organisations on weekends to make a small difference in whichever way i could. I wanted to BE THE CHANGE...

Through this journey of 31 years of activism i have had the opportunity to meet some great WOMEN OF CHANGE who have fought fearlessly for the Liberation of people all over the world, some sacrificed their homes and families, lived in exile, some were thrown out and disowned by their families for their beliefs, some beaten, abused and persecuted by their families and had their children taken away, all because they believed in something not for themselves but for all others and for future generations to live a better life.

Today, i salute all those women whom i call ‘TRUE FEMINISTS’ (past, present and future) who held their honour, dignity and self respect to give others the same value because they believed we all were deserving of it.

Heartfelt Thank You to all those amazing women, who helped, mentored and moulded me to be the best version of myself i could possibly be. I am deeply honoured and humbled to carry the mantle of your legacy forward by continiuing to “BE THE CHANGE”....

I take this opportunity to wish and bless all the beautiful women out there a blessed, peaceful and joyous International Women’s Day !!!

Lets go out and BE THE CHANGE we want to see in this world...

From a Modern, Progressive, Forward Thinking, Woman of Worth

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