Monthly Archives: April 2014

HIFA Week 2014 : ‘ Switch on’


As one of the 140 characters on Twitter cheekily put it, it’s officially HIFA week a.k.a. “White people’s annual pilgrimage into the Harare CBD.” It’s a funny if not crude observation of part of the craziness that is HIFA week. Only on Twitter.

HIFA is so much more that just that though. The Harare International Festival of the Arts (HIFA ) is the premier arts and culture event on the Zimbabwean social calendar.

HIFA was recently listed by CNN as one of the top 7 festivals on the African continent. CNN refers to HIFA as the “Glastonbury” of African festivals. Other festivals on the list include the Cape Town International Jazz Festival (South Africa), Marrakesh Popular Festival of the Arts (Morocco), Sauti Za Busara Festival (Tanzania) and the Lake Of Stars Festival (Malawi) to mention a few.

CNN goes further to give this profile on HIFA

‘Established in 1999, the festival takes place each year in late April or early May in Harare, the capital of Zimbabwe. The week-long festival encompasses five principal disciplines: theater, music, dance, fine art, and poetry. Attendees can take djembe drumming lessons, take in a poetry session, fashion show or catch their favourite artists performing.
HIFA is probably the most innovative in terms of social media use; last year, the festival had a screen that showed attendees’ tweets. Another great thing about HIFA is that you pay per event, according to your interest, unlike other festivals where a standard price is paid for all events. (29 April – 4 May)’

CNN – 7 African Music Festivals You Really Have To See

According to the HIFA website, ‘HIFA has come to be seen as an important symbol of something positive about Zimbabwe, unifying socially and culturally disparate groups of Zimbabweans at a time of ideological conflict and political uncertainty bringing huge audiences together to celebrate something positive – the healing and constructive capacity of the arts.’

This year’s theme, ‘Switch On’ is inspired by the resilience of Zimbabwe’s artistic community, from their communal search for enlightenment, and from Doris Lessing’s short story, ‘The Sun Between Their Feet’ which tells of the repeated determined attempts of two dung beetles to scale the heights of a rock with their precarious cargo.

“HIFA is a call to ignite our potential for luminous transformation and this year, it highlights our capacities and aims to radiate our communal light around the world, the positive rays of HIFA 2014 will open eyes and open hearts,” read a statement from HIFA. Festival founding artistic director, Manuel Bagorro goes on to describe this year’s programme as ‘diverse, innovative, prestigious and adventurous. It demonstrates the broad range of our audiences.’International acts include Dobet Gnahore (Ivory Coast), Maneli Jamal (Canada), Tcheka (Cape Verde), Black Bazar (Congo), Njabulo Mdlala (SA) and Toya Delazy (SA)

Because I spent the last decade living in the Diaspora I never got an opportunity to attend HIFA. I had to contend to living vicariously through the experience of family and friends who were fortunate enough to be in Zimbabwe during HIFA. That all changed for me last year when I finally got a chance to attend a handful of shows at HIFA. All I can say is that it definitely lived up to its billing. What stood out for me was how organised everything was and my initial reaction to my first HIFA experience was it’s the Melbourne International Comedy Festival, The Cape Town International Jazz Festival and Infecting The City (Cape Town) all rolled up in one uniquely Zimbabwean setting. HIFA embodied all the things I loved about the festivals I had been privileged to attend before. This is something that Robert Grieg wrote about in South African newspaper Sunday Independent saying “The Harare International Festival of the Arts is probably the best organised festival in the sub continent and one of the most manageable diverse.”

My only regret was that I missed out on quite a few of the marquee shows because I didn’t get my tickets on time. Such is the popularity of HIFA that by the time the opening show starts tickets to a vast majority of the shows for the rest of the week would have already sold out at the box office. This is even more impressive when you take into account the economic struggles the vast majority of Zimbabweans having been facing over the last couple of years. This year is no different. Despite ‘Liquidity crunch’ being the buzz word even among financially illiterate Zimbo’s like myself it looks like the same trend will follow this year. This time though I am more prepared for shenanigans of HIFA week. HIFA week is going to my belated 30th birthday present to myself. I plan on attending as many shows as is practical. From the opening show on Tuesday to the closing ceremony on Sunday featuring Freshlyground an award winning South African group I am going to be living, breathing and eating all things HIFA. I have every intention of spoiling the struggling culture vulture in me rotten.

For most of this year I have been in a self imposed ‘turn up’ hibernation, with one eye on the madness and awesomeness that is HIFA.
There are also a few creative workshops that will be running during HIFA week, meaning even the ‘Intellectual Property Developer’ in me is going to get some action. So you can only imagine how amped up I am about it. An added bonus is that one of my good friends who recently returned home will be having his first HIFA experience so it is going to be amazing sharing that experience with him.

If you are in Harare this week, hopefully I will run into you at one of the many HIFA events. And for the rest who are not going to be in Harare see you all on the other side of HIFA … Boo yah!

Last but not least here are some  HIFA TIPS FROM A FESTIVAL GURU …

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Posted by on April 28, 2014 in Uncategorized


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Makings Of A Man: 30 Things The Last Year Taught Me


After George Orwell made it the setting of his classic dystopian science fiction novel of the same name “1984” was always destined to be a great year. By the time 1984 rolled around most of Orwell’s prophecies and warnings about omnipresent government surveillance, and public manipulation in the form of ‘Big Brother’ and the totalitarian state hadn’t quite been fulfilled. These prophecies would come eerily true much later in post 9/11 America as exemplified by the NSA surveillance scandal. Regardless 1984 was still a pretty special year. Steve Jobs introduced the world to The Mac for the first time. The first Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle comic also went on sale in 1984, and somewhere in Sub-Saharan Africa at the Mbuya Nehanda Maternity Hospital in Harare, Zimbabwe yours truly made a boisterous entry into the world. The world as we know it hasn’t been the same since.


Steve Jobs introduces the world to The Mac on Jan 24 1984

In January this year I turned the big 30. It was rather a timid affair. There was no ‘turn up’ as the kids would say. It was however one of the rare birthdays over the last decade that I have actually spent with my immediate family. So in that regard it was pretty special. Outside of that I wasn’t in the greatest space at the time to fully appreciate and reflect on reaching this notable milestone in my life. I didn’t take the time out that I usually take come January 26 every other year to ponder on the lessons from the 365 days prior. Fast forward to almost three months later and I am compelled to do that even though my birthday has since long passed. In the last three months I have managed to pull myself out of that awkward space I was in when I turned 30. I have made a few positive changes to my life and continue working on improving myself as man with each passing day. Over the Easter holiday I finally used the opportunity to reflect on the year leading up to my 30th birthday and I have decided to share 30 of those lessons below. This list is made up of things I have gleamed from my personal experiences, whether online on social media or my day to day interactions or just within the pages of the books I have read and the music that has been the soundtrack to the year.

1. Once you have accepted your flaws. No one can use them against you.

2. If you want your friends and family to support you, give them actions not words. What you’ve done/are doing matters more than what you might do someday.

3. Conflict is a natural phenomenon. How you manage it reveals your maturity and wisdom. Maturity starts when you stop making excuses and start making changes.

4. Take it from a Writer. Words. They fall short. So if you must love. Love more in action than in words. Show it more than you say it.

5. Twitter is breaking and covering news before television. New (social) media is the ultimate influencer. TV, Radio and Print cannot keep up.

6. A lot of missed calls are “Missed” calls.

7. Before you begrudge someone their successes, acquaint yourself with their struggles. You don’t know the price they had to pay. Nothing’s free. Every “overnight success” you will ever meet had a thousand nights of hustle and hard work no one else saw.

8. Some people are walking diaries. Incognito to the eye, obvious to the discerning ear and irresistible to the curious mind.

9. Your insecurities. There’s nothing wrong with them. They’re yours. It’s when you inflict them on someone else that they become a problem.

10. Writing things down helps. I don’t know why. But it just helps in the manifestation process.

11. Takes a second to look. And a long time to see.

12. Apologies are like 1% of the actual work of repair in the grand scheme of things. Being sorry cannot be captured by words, it’s all in deed. ‘Sorry’ has supplanted the need to do the actual inner work which diminishes the chances of one screwing up in the future. Personally I don’t need apologies. I would rather people do better moving forward. However the former tends to occur more than the latter.

13. “Vasocongestion” is the medical term for “blue balls. Long story…

14. I belong everywhere and nowhere at all. Understand many worlds, but the only place I fit in perfectly is within my own skin. I am Zimbabwean But I still call Australia home. I like that.

15. Zimbabweans who stayed home whilst the rest of us scurried of to the Diaspora are some of the most innovative entrepreneurs on Earth because they can ‘make a plan’ in any circumstances.

16. Saving your good writing for a book is like saving your good running for the marathon: if it’s not a habit now, it won’t be there later. Teju Cole taught me that.

17. Lewis Hamilton’s breathtaking ability to produce that ‘special’ one-off lap on Saturday afternoons will continue to be one of his greatest strengths

18. Life is a language we will never be fluent in. But that shouldn’t stop us from learning it even with all the mistakes it may come with.

19. Most people underestimate how erotic it is to be understood. To be understood is so much more fulfilling than to be ‘loved’.

20. We feel so strongly about hypocrisy because we are all inherently hypocritical. Even our reaction to hypocrisy is disingenuously hypocritical.

21. Miley Cyrus music sounds so much better on the radio when you are not distracted by her antics in videos.

22. Positive and motivated happy people have challenges too. They just choose to focus on the solutions and have a positive outlook on life.

23. Words are all I’m left to play with when all else around me fails.

24. Your passion is what sets you apart. Embrace that passion and you will see changes not only for yourself, but to those around you as well.

25. Authenticity is effortless. Everything else takes acting and vigilance.

26. Don’t apologise for who you are, even the parts that make other people uncomfortable. Live your truth. Never be ashamed or frightened of your truth. Whatever it takes, you must find the courage to tell it. I think it’s intoxicating when somebody is so unapologetically who they are.

27. ‘Knowing how to be solitary is central to the art of loving’ when we can be alone, we can be with others without using them as an escape’. Thank you for that reminder Bell Hooks.  Sometimes you need to be alone to reflect on life. Take time out to take care of yourself. It’s the best time you will ever spend.

28. Cognitive dissonance is the act of coming up with bullshit rationalisations for one’s irrational choices. Just in case you were wondering …

29. To hope that someone will do it for you, is to deny yourself the true magnificence of being you

30. The comments sections of most websites are such a cynical place.


Posted by on April 25, 2014 in Uncategorized


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I’m The Man (You Can Tell Everybody)

I think it was the late great Bob Marley that once said that “the thing about music is that when it hits you, you feel no pain”. I don’t think there has ever been a more eloquent observation in regards to the power of music and its impact on the human spirit. The very best of music lifts your spirit. As a long time lover of words some of my favourite songs bear great lyrics as their hallmark. That being said if there is one thing that moves me more than words it’s when those words are sung beautifully over a soulful beat. The very best of music pulls at my heart strings. It tells a story. Sometimes it’s my story. And other times it just allows me to live vicariously through the experiences of others. The very best of songs feel like they were sung by that one person who gets you. That person you don’t have to explain or justify yourself to. They just get you. It inspires you to be better, to love and accept yourself and your story not matter how ugly that story is.


All this rings true when I listen to Aloe Blacc’s (famous for the ‘I Need A Dollar’ theme song to the short lived How To Make It In America TV series) breakthrough single ‘The Man’ of his Lift Your Spirit Album. Some music aficionado’s might also recognise his vocals on another more recent track, Avicii’s hit dance song ‘Wake Me Up” which (unfortunately) he wasn’t credited for.


I know that a song is good when I wish that I had written it and find myself doing renditions of it every other morning during my showers. In those moments I imagine myself on stage belting out the lyrics and the crowd loving every bit of it … Allow. What I love most about ‘The Man is that it reminds of the person that I am. On the song “The Man” Aloe Blacc radiates unflappable self-assurance and the song’s lyrics sound powerful without drowning in conceit. It moves me viscerally and it makes me fall in love with myself and my story all over again. It’s a beautiful reminder of where I have been and where I am going. It resonates with the dreamer, believer and achiever in me.


Over the Easter break I have deliberately made an effort to spend time doing things that I love that I haven’t really got to do because you know…life. I have tried to just be still in the moment. I have avoided retreating to nostalgia or fretting about tomorrow. I have just embraced the present. The now. I have had more time to just sit and do nothing but listen to the radio most of the day without any distractions. And to read a book. Something that I haven’t done so far this year. Over the last couple of days I started and finished reading “Samarkand” by Amin Maalouf. It such a captivating story that is grand in scope, piercing in its insights and poetic in its tragedy. It left me ticking and tense and wanting to tell someone else to read it, so there you go I highly recommend it. ( You can thank me later). During the last few days I haven’t run or written. I have just sat, listened to and watched the world around me, offline.

I have remembered how much I love music and how influential it has been in shaping into the person that I am today. For better or worse. For me the music that resonates is the music that triggers my excitable cells and endocrine systems. Music that makes me happy, introspective and can be a quick relief to all my worries and stresses. Music that lifts my spirits. And that is what Aloe Blacc’s “The Man” is doing for me this morning.

Whilst reading a profile Of Aloe Blacc earlier I came across this quote from him that I absolutely love that I want to share today.

Blacc who was a straight-A student who won a scholarship to the University of Southern California to study communications and linguistic psychology. “It’s kind of a nerdy interest,” he says. “It helps me to continue whetting my blade as a thinker.I don’t play the new app of the week on my phone, I play with words. I put them together in little puzzles and see how they make me feel and then do this projection puzzle to the rest of the world and ask how they will make other people feel – Aloe Blacc

I still haven’t gotten around to listening to the full album Lift Your Spirit yet but I am sure I will get around to it soon enough.
If you are interested you can read the full profile of the man of the moment in this The Guardian (UK) article in which he drops quite a few quotable gems. Aloe Blacc: The Man of the moment here

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Posted by on April 24, 2014 in Culture Vulture


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It Takes Three To Tangle, And Just Two To Tango (Part 4)

It Takes Three To Tangle, And Just Two To Tango (Part 3)

It was quieter now as we walked further away from the club. And as we walked, I could feel a sense of excitement building. None of us spoke a word the whole time, despite the fact that we were all quite inebriated. I guess everyone was lost in their own contemplation of what was unfolding.

What were Lola and Hannah thinking? Where they having second thoughts? Excited? Scared? I couldn’t read much from their body language save for the fact that they seemed unusually amiable for two people I had assumed shared a mutual animosity towards each other. Maybe it was the anticipation but my heart was racing as we approached my front door and I finally caught up with the girls. I reached for the doorknob and unlocked the door ushering Hannah and Lola in. This is it.

There is no turning back. I immediately make a decision to finally start playing a more active role in this unfolding adventure. I set about making the girls comfortable by putting on music and then making a bee line for the kitchen for the kitchen so I can make some drinks for the three of us. Luckily I still have some Tequila left over from the pre-drink up from earlier in the night with the usual suspects … my boys. They are not going to believe how the night ended for me. I could never have imagined it in a million years but here I was, about to live the fantasy.


When I return to the kitchen I am holding good old Uncle Jose Cuervo in one hand and three shot glasses in the other. I am out of mixers, but I managed to find some cut up lemons from earlier so it’s going to have to be straight shots. Not that anyone is going to mind. I quickly survey the room as soon as I make it back to the lounge. Lola is dancing rather provocatively and as her hips sway seamlessly to the dancehall rhythms of Kevin Little’s “Turn Me on”. Damn, this girl can move. Watching her dance seductively in the middle of the room I am remember why I have been sleeping with Lola on and off for so long even though I can’t really stand her when we are not busy getting our freak on. Lola had this knack of sending me the most lurid sexts every time I swore I had hooked up with her for the last time. Sexts that always seemed to get me from flaccid and disinterested to Django unchained faster than you can say Broomhilda. Lola was insatiable. A nymphomaniac in every sense of the word. But so was I.

Across the room Hannah is sitting on the edge of the couch watching Lola dance, an incongruous mix of curiosity and envy written on her face. When she looks my way and as her eyes meet my own I see a flicker of excitement register in her eyes as she stretches her hand out for a drink. As I pour the shots Lola pulls Hannah from the couch and they both start dancing body to body. The taboo excitement of the scene that is unfolding in front my eyes is heightened when both girls start touching each other slowly and sensually as they continue dancing. That is my cue and I quickly take a shot as I make my way to the girls. After handing them their shots they sandwich me between them and as both their hands explore my body I am now completely drunk on liquor and power. I feel like an Adonis. I chuckle to myself and as they begin to undress me right there in the lounge I have this boyish grin on my face. Up to that point in my life, it was the best moment I had ever experienced.

Even though Lola had since always claimed that it was her first threesome experience, she seemed like a seasoned pro as she led the two of us through it. There seemed to be a voyeuristic element to the way she basically allowed me and Hannah to get comfortable as she lingered on the periphery for a while before joining and displaying unreal multi tasking abilities. Still no one said a single word. And from then on we all seemed to go on autopilot. If there is one thing I have learnt from that and many other experiences during those hedonistic times, it’s that human beings are extremely accommodating and adaptable when life presents itself with a novel opportunity for a sexual escapade.

Later the exertions of the entire night having taken their taking a toll on me I had simply collapsed on the carpet between the girls and just laid there staring blankly at the ceiling.

To Be Continued …


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How I Got Over: Lessons From Running And Writing


When I turned 30 at the end of January this year I was going through a bit of an existential crisis. My default state was one of constant angst and for a while I struggled to put my finger on what exactly was the root cause. This was an unusual and daunting experience for me because I am a naturally positive person and for the most part that is my default state. Whatever dark clouds life has sent my way I have always been able to see the silver lining. I have overcome much greater challenges that the ones I was dealing with at the time, but I also failed to remember that. In fact I can’t remember any other time in recent memory that I have retreated to cynicism as much as I did during that time. It probably didn’t help that at the time I was also dealing with the painful breakdown of a relationship that had basically consumed nearly every waking moment of my 2013.

So there I found myself at the top of 2014, my friends all seemingly pairing off en masse’ and beginning their happily ever afters’ and my own relationship was going nowhere fast. I wish I could say it didn’t bother me that my friends were all getting married but that would be a lie. It did. More than I was willing to openly admit at the time. And the fact that all this seemed to be happening around the time I was saying goodbye to my twenties only seemed to compound matters even further. My twenties have been the best years of my life so far. But when I looked at where I was in my life on my 30th birthday it seemed like I had nothing to show for it. I felt like a failure and a ‘has been’, doomed to sip from the cup of nostalgia for the rest of my days.

I felt sorry myself, and became more withdrawn from the people that matter the most to me. It was pathetic, unnecessary and uncharacteristic of me. For a moment I forgot who I was. I forgot to live my truth. I stopped doing the things I love. I was unkind to myself. But worst of all I stopped living in the moment. I found myself oscillating between thinking about what once was and daydreaming about what could be, but I was hardly ever in the moment. I wasn’t doing any living. That was the root cause of my existential crisis. As soon as I figured that out I became determined to get out of that rut I now found myself in. But being the chronic over thinker and part time procrastinator that I am it would be weeks before I actually took any decisive action.

My plan was simple. I needed to pay more attention to my health. I wasn’t getting any younger and I couldn’t get away with the bad habits I got away with in most of my twenties. I need to become more physically active. I also needed to start doing the things I love more and more like writing.

It’s been six weeks since I put that plan into action and I am in a much healthier and happier place than I was before. I have worked out and written every single week day during those six weeks and the results speak for themselves. I have managed to write almost 40000 words during that period. I have posted 30 blogs which is almost as many I did all of 2013. I have also covered a distance of a little over 350km running and combined with my daily workout routine I have managed to drop 5.3kg in those six weeks. This leaves me just 2kg over the my three month target weight. I am hoping to achieve in the next six week cycle. I am definitely in greater shape both mentally and physically than I was when I started out but this is only the beginning.

Throughout the whole process I have been able to pick up on a few parallels between writing and running. When writing you start somewhere and resolve to get somewhere else. You get there one word at a time. Running is the same.. Both also require discipline and a sustained resolve. With both acts all you can do is stretch one stride and write one word. The Zen of both, is letting go, not thinking about the ground you have covered or the words you have written, not worrying about whether or not you’ll fill the page with what you want or make it the next km, but just being as present as you can be in the instant of a stride or the stroke of computer keys. And that has been how I have slowly started to learn how to be in the present moment as well as appreciate it.

My goal is that by the time I turn 31 next January I want to be in the pest physical shape I have ever been in my life. I am under no illusions as to how difficult of a challenge this is but I have proved to myself over the last six weeks that it is achievable as long I stay dedicated and put in the work. And that is exactly what I plan to do. Initially when I sat out on my first six week cycle the main objective was that not quitting. I succeeded in that regard and managed to follow through on my goals which is something that I am very proud of. As a little reward fir myself I am going to take a mini break over the Easter holiday to reassess, re-calibrate and refocus before I embark on the next six week cycle. I already know that I want to improve the quality of my writing as well intensify my workout regime. So I am going to use this little break to formulate a plan that that I will start execute after the break. That means for the first time in six weeks I will be missing a couple of days of actually posting anything on this blog including the still to be concluded It Takes Three To Tangle, And Just Two To Tango series.

I will return to posting regularly later next week after the Easter break. In the meantime In case you missed some of the posts you can always catch up on the blogs I have already written. I have listed some of the most popular as well as some of my personal favourites below.

Kinstukuroi: Finding beauty in brokeness

A Few Good Men

It Takes Three To Tangle, And Just Two To Tango (Part 3)

Love In The Future

Lobola 101: It’s A Family Thing

A (Yellow) Bone To Pick

My Very Own House Of Stones

Reflections Of A Struggling Culture Vulture

Her: A Story About Technology, Love & Relationships

I Have Never Been IN Love

Enjoy and Happy Holidays.

One can have no smaller or greater mastery than mastery of oneself. ― Leonardo da Vinci


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It Takes Three To Tangle, And Just Two To Tango (Part 3)

It Takes Three To Tangle, And Just Two To Tango (Part 2)

My first and only threesome experience was not something that I could have ever imagined happening the way it did. It was totally unexpected. Even when I think about it I find it incredulous that it even happened at all. It all still feels a bit surreal. Even after all these years that have passed. But I guess that’s the thing about living out a fantasy. You daydream about it, but never really expect it to turn into a reality. And when the reality turns out to be so much better than the fantasy you find yourself retreating to nostalgia just to take one more hit, because the fantasy just doesn’t cut it anymore.

My threesome experience signaled the beginning of the end of one of the most hedonistic seasons in my life. It was also part of the genesis of what has been one of the most fulfilling and rewarding relationships I have ever been a part of. A relationship which brought me to my own attention and helped me grow in ways I am still appreciative of today. If I was to pick one relationship that did the most to shape me into the man that I am today it would be that post-ménage a trois relationship. It was the relationship in which I became emotionally mature and became more emotionally intelligent. In this series of posts I have spoken a lot about my ego. It was in that relationship that I first acknowledged my ego and in which I began the difficult journey of managing it. And for the better part of that relationship I succeeded, until I didn’t but that’s a story for another day.

Back to the story at hand.

Mine wasn’t just a random hook up with two random girls as I had once fantasised. It actually involved my “friend with benefits” and the girl who would go on to become a long term girlfriend after that experience. And that is why I am sharing that story today. It would be impossible tell the story about that part of my life without discussing that experience. And it would be a disservice to describe that threesome without putting it in that context as well.

I wish I could take credit for orchestrating the threesome but I can’t. That would be an unnecessary embellishment of a story that I am sure most will find hard to believe. Also for those who might be hoping to get some insight on how to pull off their very own threesome you are probably going to be disappointed because I don’t have a playbook you can follow. I genuinely believe the circumstances of my experience were as unique as it might sound improbable. I don’t think I will ever have a threesome again, but I am OK with that. That one time was more than enough for me. Besides I still wouldn’t know how to convince two women to have a threesome with me even after having been a participant in one before. The only insight I can probably provide is on how to handle one once you find yourself living out that fantasy.

So how did I find myself having a threesome with two women?

The short answer is I was ‘the chosen one’. Without any prompting on my part they had coordinated and agreed between themselves and I just got an invite to the debauchery that ensued. I later learned that the instigator in chief was my ‘friend with benefits’. For the purpose of this blog I will call her *Lala. For Lala the whole experience was some sort of power play that I am not quite sure I understand to this day, but one that backfired horribly for her. When I asked her after why she had pushed for it, her response was ‘I wanted to see what it was about her that you were so caught up on. I wanted to compare and prove to myself that I was better than her … and some part of me half expected her to chicken out.’

As for the girl I would go on to date, who for the purpose of this blog I will call *Hannah, she had suspected that I had been hooking up with Lala but hadn’t been sure. Whilst I had hooked up with Hannah before it had been randomly and we had never discussed the issue of exclusivity. We also happened to get along very well outside the sack but neither of us had made any effort to pursue anything more meaningful. Hannah for obvious reasons didn’t like discussing the threesome and the only insight I ever got on her reasons for taking part was that she perceived it as some kind of challenge and didn’t want to give Lala a win by default or something to that effect. Like I said I don’t fully understand why it happened. I can only share the story with you of how it happened. And that is exactly what I am going to do now.

How it happened …

As the three of us make our way out of the club I find myself a couple of paces behind Lala and Hannah who are walking in front of me with their arms intertwined. This is all too weird I start to think to myself but before I can finish that thought I find myself lusting after both Hannah’s beautiful long legs and Lala’s exquisite derrière, hardly believing my luck. My excitement is building with each step and it is taking all the willpower I can master not to break into a little jig. Keep it cool Taf, you only live 10 minutes away. 10 minutes stand between you and the ultimate fantasy. Don’t blow it. Just keep calm and just follow the girls lead. They are the ones in charge. The ones calling the shots. Just keep your cool. It can’t be that hard. Save all the energy you can anyway. You are going to need every ounce of it tonight.

Now a million thoughts are racing through my mind. Is this really happening? Or is this some cruel joke they are playing on me? Or maybe it’s some sort of test? Are they bluffing? But why would they? Just hold your nerve Taf, and please don’t say anything stupid. Not now. There is nothing to lose here and so much to gain … But surely one of them is going to chicken out. My money is on Hannah … but Hannah is the one I want more. If push comes to shove and I have to make a choice it will be Hannah. That’s a no brainer. She is the one I need to pay a little more attention to. Lala seems determined to go through with this no matter what so I am not too worried about her. Damn, the prospect of both of them at the same time is just … Oh shit, I need to figure out logistics before we get to my place. How is this going to work? I really didn’t think this through even in all the times I fantasised about having a threesome … Man, none of my boys are going to believe this. Shit, I can’t even believe this is happening. I am going to need all the tact and diplomacy I can master to see this through. I have to see this through otherwise I will never be able to live with myself. I can’t blow this.

I suddenly think back to the club where this whole night had started. I hadn’t known what to think when I had seen Lala approach Hannah in the club. They were not friends. They knew of each other but as far as I knew they had never spoken before. But that night they spoke for what felt like forever but in reality were only a few minutes. The next thing I knew they were dancing with each other. They couldn’t have been more contrasted both physically and in terms of their personality. Lala like me, was black African, and Hannah was a white Australian. Lala had a more natural rhythm about her dancing but Hannah was nevertheless holding her own and had more of an intangible aura about her. Lala was extroverted and Hannah more introverted. But there they were dancing away Iike the very best of friends having the time of their life.

I couldn’t make sense of it all, and before I had any time to decide on any course of action I saw them both calling me over to join them. To be honest at the time it felt like I was walking straight into an ambush but being the masochist that I am I joined them anyway. Surely this could not possibly end well.



Posted by on April 16, 2014 in Writing My Wrongs


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It Takes Three To Tangle, And Just Two To Tango (Part 2)


In my last post I started to write about a season in my life I described as the most reckless and hedonistic of my life. It was also the truest I had been to myself until that point. It was all about me, my ego and my dick. Nothing else mattered. In Part 1 I rambled on in attempt to give a proper prequel to the story I wanted to share. I was at pains to try and explain the process and purpose of writing and sharing that part of my life. That phase of my life is one in which I began to peel away the layers from idealised self and uncovered the unfiltered, raw and real self. In many ways I became the antithesis of the good conservative catholic boy I had been raised as. I don’t know if it was a conscious rebellion but I do know I revealed myself to myself. I played by my own rules. The real me stood up. I am rambling again…
If you missed the first part you can read it here

It Takes Three To Tangle, And Just Two To Tango (Part 1)

Now that you are all caught up, let’s continue …

There I was laying on my back her sobs drifting slowing off into the night. This wasn’t part of the script. This was a breach of protocol. I feel blindsided and am trying to gather my thoughts. Despite having an intimate knowledge of each other’s bodies we had until this moment managed to stay strangers emotionally. It was just sex. Great sex. Fulfilling sex. And for months now it had been the perfect arrangement. Anytime either of us got ‘thirsty”, depending on availability we happily indulged each other. We hardly ever texted and when we did their were either sexts or “Are you home” texts at 1am. But here we were. Even in conventional relationships in which emotions were shared , nurtured and encouraged I always felt out of my depth whenever tears were shed. I now had to deal with them now. This was going to be awkward.

“I can’t do this anymore Taf…” What do you mean” I replied pensively. “ This … we can’t keep doing this, it’s not right. It’s not healthy. I want more than this. I need more. I know what we agreed on going in but things have changed. I want more than just sex. This is not me. I can’t be living like this. It has been fun, exhilarating and convenient for the most part but things have changed for me. I want more. I need more than this. I know you can’t give me that and I don’t know why and I know I shouldn’t but that makes me sad. When we started out you were in this dark place. You were so emotionally detached from anything and everyone. You didn’t care about anyone, not even yourself. But yet I found myself intrigued by you. I liked who you were as a person and I knew I didn’t have to worry about either of us catching feelings because I was in the same place as you. The last thing I expected was that I would be the one catching feelings. Deep down I guess I also hoped that when you eventually got an emotionally healthier place or wanted something more I would be a consideration. You would at least consider me. It was naive of me. What happened last weekend dispelled that notion for me. I see the way you look at her. The way you are with her. You have never looked at me like that. It shouldn’t bother me, but it does. I can’t do this anymore. “

After the events of the last weekend I had been half expecting to have this conversation at some stage. I just hadn’t imagined it under these circumstances. We hadn’t been in touch since though and now here I was having this conversation post coitus in the backyard. I was still at a loss as how I got here and judging from the sudden turn of events I might never find out. There is an awkward silence for what feels like forever. The tears have stopped. I struggle to come up with anything meaningful to say and I mumble under my breath, “Ok if that’s what you want I will respect that.” And with that eyes displayed indifference. She got up, put her shorts back and left me laying there still coming to terms with what had just happened.

The Weekend Before …

A ménage trios. A threesome. One guy, two girls. Every man’s fantasy. Myself included.

A fantasy most of us never get to live out. As much it was a fantasy of mine I had never seriously thought about actually living it out. I didn’t know if I had the skills, charm or tact to convince two women to sleep with me at the same time. It was a hard enough challenge getting one woman into my bed on most days, let alone two. But I was looking at it all wrong. Approaching it as a primarily a male fantasy. I did not consider that it could also be a female fantasy, that two women could actually collude to have a threesome with a guy without being prompted. I never imagined that if that were to ever happen I would be that guy. That I would be a pawn in someone else’s fantasy and ego trip. In hindsight I guess that is the only way it could have possibly happened for me. That is what had happened over the previous weekend. I had unexpectedly found myself having a threesome with my f**k buddie and another girl who I had been interested in romantically. The very same girl who would could on to be a long term girlfriend. I couldn’t make this shit up even if I tried.



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Posted by on April 15, 2014 in Writing My Wrongs


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