Back in pre-school, I remember a woman offering dance classes for girls. I wanted to join, my friend and I snuck into a class during one break. We had been peaking through the door, looking at our classmates, and the dance teacher invited us in. We just followed her movements – like touching our toes to the rhythm of the music. After the lesson, she gave us each a sweet.
That afternoon when my parents picked me up from school, they told me not to do that again because they didn’t have money to pay for classes. I didn’t go again. But that was the start of many long years of begging my parents to send me to dance classes.
Eventually, after much persuading and I guess budgetary adjustments, I started attending modern dance classes at the age of 10. It was my first introduction to formal dance training, and I had the time of my life. I felt like a pop star.
Most of the girls in my class had some ballet background, but modern dance was simpler, you didn’t need to focus on turning out your legs as much. But pointing was still super important. That year, I even got a special award for being the most improved dancer.
Modern Dance: One year we performed a number from the Chicago musical.
But two years later, puberty struck, and I felt hockey was a simpler way to stay active without having to be conscious about my changing body. When you’re a teenager, a tight-fitting leotard feels awkward.
Even though I left dancing, it never left me.
I set foot in Ballet on Kloof’s studio in May 2019. Roughly 16 years since my last dance class.
My gym contract had ended, and I was just looking for a new way to stay fit. I had never done ballet before, so this seemed like a good personal challenge.
In so many ways, I feel that God has used ballet to reawaken my childhood dreams. Movement has helped me overcome so many internal struggles related to body image and self-worth. I never intended to perform. I just wanted to dance for the fun of it.
Ballet on Kloof was given the opportunity to join a collaboration organised by New World Dance Theatre. Through the collaboration, Against All Odds, dancers from multiple schools across Cape Town had a chance to perform at Artscape theatre!
I had only ever been to Artscape for shows performed by professionals like the Cape Town City Ballet.
It reminds me of this verse in Ephesians 3:20:
God is able to do exceedingly, abundantly, and above all, you could ever ask, imagine, or think, according to His power at work in you.
I never thought or could have dreamed of performing at Artscape. But here, God decided to exceed my expectations in classic God style.
The performance and rehearsals also coincided with my birthday. I was not looking forward to this birthday, the first one since my break-up, but God came through for me in the best way possible. This was the best birthday gift I ever got.
What dreams are made of: Taken from the rehearsal on my birthday, our first time dancing in our costumes and we were getting a glimpse of stage magic.
I had been seeking to do something brave, to feel more like myself again. I thought about abseiling off Table Mountain, skydiving or solo travel. But when this opportunity came up, I felt like it was designed for me – I could still do something brave that would require me to move out of my comfort zone, but it would also have a special connection to a childhood dream – it seemed so much more fitting to who I am.
I almost missed out on it too. I was hesitant to join. I am not the strongest dancer in my group (given my lack of ballet background). My ballet teacher was gracious the whole time, inviting me to participate in the process without the pressure of performing.
But one Saturday morning, a classmate pulled me aside and told me that I should perform, because I am improving and it would be a wonderful life experience. I am glad I listened to her and one of our choreographers who told me to “get off the fence”.
Sometimes you need people to speak the truth in kindness, sometimes you need people to be frank – either way, both these versions helped convince me to perform.
Ballet sisterhood
The performance was rewarding in so many ways – friendship building, confidence building, and made me fall more and more in love with dance.
I had so much fun getting to know women from my ballet class better. We’re all professionals – one is a marine scientist, another an engineer, we have a speech therapist and a doctor, an actress, designers and I’m a journalist.
Enjoying the moment.Backstage fun.Group shot with our ballet teacher.Waiting in the dressing room- where we also had deep convos.
My ballet teacher acknowledged our efforts – squeezing in rehearsals between life’s commitments. I have to be honest – I welcome the early morning rehearsals on Saturdays and late weekly classes – because the experience was invaluable.s
The real fun begins…Synchronised.Power in unity.Post-performance selfie!
The best part was watching the other performers. There is so much talent in the city and the arts should be supported. It gives us expression, it transports us to another world, it allows us to tap into the different versions of ourselves while still being authentic.
I’m looking forward to more opportunities to celebrate life through dance. And watching God fulfill childhood dreams – He remembers them all, even the ones I forgot.
When you get engaged – you think it is the beginning of a shared life with the person you love. You don’t anticipate that it will signal the end of your relationship.
That is the loss I have been processing since Phil and I ended our engagement last year. It happened on 31 December. I think we both wanted to make a decision about our future together ahead of the new year.
Our difference in beliefs had been an area we had tried to address in our two-and-a-half-year relationship. We convinced ourselves that it was a difference we could overcome – as we had so many other commonalities and shared values. But the gravity of marriage became more apparent to both of us as we planned our wedding.
I realised I had expectations for our marriage and household to be a Christian one, filled with Bible studies, prayer times and Holy Spirit-led direction. I also realised that it would not be fair to expect that of Phil. So, we decided it was best to part ways.
There is so much I can share of how gracious God has been. Phil and I have parted on good terms. He has never held me back from following Jesus, and for that, I am so grateful. I am just sorry that we are both experiencing this loss.
Happier times: This picture was taken a day before our engagement. I am grateful for every day Phil and I got to share together. I have been mourning the loss of a future together.
So, 2022 started with incredible difficulty.
I happened to be working on 1 January while fighting through tears. They just came gushing.
The days since then have varied – sometimes I feel strong, sometimes not so much. But in every day – God’s grace has consistently come through for me – in the form of a kind word from a friend, a message of encouragement in His word, or through His presence just lifting my mood.
Indeed, Psalm 30:11 has been my experience, “You turned my wailing into dancing; you removed my sackcloth and clothed me with joy.”
It’s not a walk in the park either. I have committed to seeing a counsellor from my church, which has helped, and I recommend anyone else do the same if they are dealing with loss. It is very freeing to speak to someone without fear of them passing on judgment. They provide an objective view on the matters discussed, which is needed especially because we can be so hard on ourselves.
I have also tried to stay healthy. At first, it was difficult to eat, but my appetite returned. I think I have reached the phase where I stuff my face with all the carby goodness I can get my hands on. But I have also tried to balance this with physical activity, and had enrolled myself in a set of movement workshops.
I have been trying out gyrokinesis classes.Movement is so freeing.
The endorphins from the classes have been much longer-lasting than the highs from Netflix comedies. Speaking of, I started watching Parks and Recreation, which has been the burst of humour I needed. I remember being surprised by my laughing when I first started watching it.
Staying off social media is also highly recommended. I have not gone on my Pinterest pages since the start of the year, and I have minimised my interactions on Instagram. When on social media, you automatically fall into the trap of comparison – Why can’t I be married? Why can’t I have a wedding? Why am I not the woman that has a family? Shutting off this avenue has been good for my mental health. I have instead filled my mind with God’s word:
Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable – if anything is excellent or praiseworthy – think about such things.
Philippians 4:8
I have spent this time sowing into friendships and community. When you are in a relationship, you invest a lot into knowing and caring for the other person. Sometimes other relationships may be neglected. I have slowly been reviving old friendships and building new ones. And as I have done that, God has opened my eyes to the pain and suffering others are going through.
I have found myself sharing bible verses, messages of encouragement and praying for others who are going through a lot worse than I am. I didn’t think it would be possible, in my brokenness, to give to others. But I have discovered that God doesn’t wait for me to be fixed to help others. It is especially in the fixing that His goodness toward me can flow to others too. Instead of feeling shame for not being the well put together 30-year-old I thought I would be, I have instead been filled with awe of God and how strong He is in my weakness:
But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses so that Christ’s power may rest on me.
2 Corinthians 12:9
I am grateful to the many friends I have and my immediate family who constantly pray for me. I genuinely feel their prayers have carried me, and I am not sure how I would have been able to deal with this, face each day, without knowing that I could turn to God. And He has been so faithful to respond.
I recently resumed serving in the children’s ministry – I haven’t been active in this area since 2017. But since I have finished studying, I now can dedicate my time on weekends to this.
One of the lessons that looked at the story of Joseph and how despite all the bad things that happened to him, God still used everything in Joseph’s life to fulfil His will. It was of great encouragement to me – to trust that the suffering I am going through now will ultimately glorify God:
And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.
Romans 8:28
It’s hard to live through, but as someone put it, I have to keep my “eternity glasses” on. God reveals everything in His time.
I also joined this year’s bible study – 20/20 by Christine Caine. This has challenged me to open my eyes and be aware of those around me in need of the hope of Jesus, and to share that with them.
With the pandemic, I just switched to survival mode and became inward-looking. I forgot about partnering with God to build His kingdom. I forgot that before I am a journalist, daughter, sister or girlfriend… I am a follower of Christ. I have been getting my priorities right – and it’s not easy to receive correction, but it’s rewarding. I have experienced the fruits of God’s peace, joy and everlasting love, and there is nothing in this material world that can compare to that.
Some of the verses from the bible study I have clung to are:
Psalm 34:18 – The Lord is close to the broken-hearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit. Psalm 147:3 – He heals the broken-hearted and binds up their wounds Philippians 4:6-7 – Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. 1 Peter 5:7 – Cast all your anxiety on Him because He cares for you.
I spent most of January fasting and praying. And God gave me a word that has emerged countless times, especially on days when I lose hope.
I remember feeling incredibly down on the day I moved into a new flat. I was really sad because I felt Phil’s absence. I knew that if we were still together, he would have been there to help me. I also had a box of items that reminded me of him, but they were taunting me. I was a puddle of tears by the time the day ended.
The next morning I woke up, walked around my new flat, and was surprised by one of my plants, which was budding a flower.
New beginnings: While some of the flowers were dying, there were signs of new life.
It was a gift from God, a reminder of His promise in Isaiah 43:18-19, “Remember not the former things, nor consider the things of old. Behold, I am doing a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it? I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert.”
Moving forward: It is so easy to cling to the past, but God was telling me to trust Him for my future.
Friend. God is alive. God is real. God will be there for you in a way no human can. He is the rock, the foundation on which you can build your life. And though storms may come, He will never leave you nor forsake you. He never disappoints.
I know I am in the middle of a storm. But He has been my strength, and a firm foundation to rest on. I will choose Christ again, and again and again…
Last week marked the official end of my two-year learning journey at the Sustainability Institute. A few of my classmates and I graduated – virtually!
It was a little strange. Firstly, graduation seemed to have snuck up on all of us. By chance I checked my emails and saw that my class would be graduating on Tuesday, 14 December. In fact someone had messaged the class WhatsApp group to check that we were indeed graduating.
With the help of Philip, I managed to find the class list online and saw that I had not only passed but had exceeded my own expectations with a Cum Laude! I could only be grateful to God for such an accomplishment.
There was no official ceremony. We however got a YouTube link, to the Faculty of Economic and Management Sciences December 2021 graduaton ceremony, which was pre-recorded. I sat through that video, listening to all the names of the students who battled the obstacles of the pandemic and everything else that comes with an academic journey to finally achieve their qualifications. I don’t know how, but Stellenbosch University still managed to honour all graduates and their individual academic journeys. I didn’t feel like it was less of a ceremony because it was online.
Just after 40 minutes, my name came up.
I breathed a sigh of relief. It was nice to be home with my parents as it happened. It made me aware that this academic journey was only possible through the help and support of a community.
My family – mum and dad who instilled in me a love of learning and who were there to pick up teary phone calls and encouraged me when deadlines seemed impossible to meet and who also helped me realise I am not super woman and it is okay not to be all things for all people at once.
My partner Philip, who read each of my assignments (collectively over 56 000 words) and gave me constructive criticism. He always encouraged me to prioritise school.
My employer Media24 – which provided me a bursary to study this field which intrigued me so much and my editors at Fin24 who allowed me to write about what I was learning.
My colleagues at Fin24 who kept the ball rolling, picking up my stories while I was at school and writing up assignments.
My classmates, who were with me in the trenches and helped give me perspective on things – Liza, Stella, Kwanele, Nichola, Linda and Shilela, you really left a positive mark on me.
My friends – Angela, Mudi, Carin, Maria, Nikita, Mpho, Vimbai, Kendal, Kirvania and Celin who constantly prayed for me and who shared words of encouragement.
My church community – specifically the women I met at Bible study who trusted God with me for time management skills, supernatural understanding of the content and the strength to push through and meet deadlines.
During the Sustainable Development Module in February 2020, we were instructed to write a letter to our future selves, which we would then read at graduation. I had forgotten about the letter. In fact it is not with me currently, but in Cape Town. Philip however was gracious enough to send me pictures of it.
What follows is excerpts from that letter.
Dear Lameez
As you write this it is now 9.25 PM on 10 February 2020, your friend Angela’s birthday. You are overwhelmed with all you have to get done – this letter included.
You’ve had an emotionally draining day. But it has also been a liberating day.
You discovered that God has embedded His truth in your heart.
The truth that your home is where He is.
That better is one day in His courts, than a thousand elsewhere.
You also realised that Jesus is indeed your heritage. Your end and your beginning...
You were content that Jesus is enough. Jesus is enough for you…
While you gained an appreciation for your relationship with God, you also learnt to accept and love yourself and not be ashamed of who she is.
That’s just one day.
And I can’t imagine all the things you learnt in the past two years…
I know you have approached this with an open mind and I hope you held firm to that throughout this process and that you won’t only be excited about getting a degree, but rather all the other amazing things you gained in this journey as you trusted God.
I am sure He has been faithful to carry you throughout this process and that you discovered more of His love.
And no matter what happened/ what happens in future remember that the BEST news you will ever hear in your life is that your sins are forgiven. And that you can have a relationship with the living God. The best news ever.
And it is true. I have another qualification to be proud about, but that pales in comparison to the knowledge that my sins are forgiven, and I have salvation in Christ. It is easy to take for granted that I have a relationship with a living God. Countless times in these two years I turned to God for help. It was second nature to lean on Him.
Amid the pandemic, the stressors of school and work, He was there – constantly carrying me through each storm. I am grateful because I know I would not have made it otherwise. This graduation has been a reminder of His grace.
As I celebrate graduating, just a small part of my life, I want to continue celebrating this eternal truth that Jesus is alive.
Tomorrow is Christmas, a reminder that God humbled himself and came to earth as a baby in a manger, so that He could live a holy life in this world and make a way for us to be reconciled to Him once more. We get to live in unity with God because of the sacrifice Jesus made when He died and hung on the cross. He rose again three days later, having defeated sin. Now we can live in that freedom. There is no better life – apart from Him.
The 9th of October will always hold a special place in my heart. It is the day I agreed to be Philip’s wife!
But the joy of this incredible step in our lives together was nearly stolen – when I lost my engagement ring.
It is best I start at the beginning.
Act 1
I joined Philip and his family on a glamping trip – at one of the Wolfkop Camping sites near the town of Citrusdal, in the Western Cape. The trip had been a long time coming – we were meant to go away in December last year but the second wave meant we had to postpone the trip.
I had not expected him to propose on this camping trip – as it seemed more of a family gathering, and time for rest given that it has been a hectic year for all of us. However, Phil and I had been discussing getting married soon – he had asked my parents for their blessing a few weeks ago.
The camp was just what I needed – after six-days of working non-stop. It really took us away from the bustle of the city life in Cape Town. Our tents looked onto the river with a majestic mountain reflecting on the water.
Serene: Bible study with this view was simply wonderful.
After doing some kayaking along the Olifants River, I decided to reapply some sunblock (I am paranoid about burning my skin). While I was in my tent, everyone else was setting up for the show. The women on the trip – mainly Phil’s mum, his niece and his brother’s girlfriend Sam and her family – were taking selfies and were calling me to join, which I did.
We had taken our selfie and someone said it was time for couples’ shots and suggested I join Phil on the jetty.
I was concentrating on my footsteps as I climbed onto the jetty. As soon as I looked up Philip got down on his knee and I, after seeing the ring, was in shock when I realised that the proposal was happening then and there.
Phil, who I could tell was nervous – it was the same nervousness he had when he first kissed me – asked if I would do him the honour of being his wife. I said yes, twice. He asked me if I liked the ring… and I said it didn’t matter. All I wanted to do was hug him.
He also asked if the ring fit, and it did… or so I thought.
All of this was captured on camera by the women who cleverly positioned themselves right in front of the jetty – remember the selfie? It was such a blessing to have his family witness the whole thing. It made it that much special and it was as if we were all wrapped in one embrace – simply because we shared in this moment together.
I was just mentally preparing for a couple’s photo.
We both were shaking, a lot.
Later when I spoke to Phil, I learnt that he had been trying for weeks to find the right moment to propose. He was considering proposing in the West Coast National Park – among all the flowers – under the guise of celebrating Sam’s birthday. The other option was to propose at the airport, after picking me up – I had been away for two months.
He also only expected Sam and her sister Faz to be present at the moment we got engaged – the arrangement was for them to record the whole thing. But I love how it turned out, everyone’s excitement elevated the experience, the weather was perfect, and I was surprised.
He also involved my parents – he had informed my dad he would be proposing on the camping trip. All of a sudden things started making more sense to me – like why my dad cut our phone call short when we started to discussing my upcoming trip to Citrusdal.
I was so grateful for everyone’s involvement – they made it so special. And I guess – the introvert in me became a little more convinced of the value and joy that comes from sharing life with people. It’s not always an inconvenience or bad. We have to be wise about who we let into our lives, but we can’t be too closed off to relationships because it robs us of the joy in life.
Act 2
The rest of the day was peaceful. Phil and his brother started a braai and we had some lupper (between lunch and supper). Being summer, at a campsite, I suppose I should have expected there would be flies. But we were being bugged by horse flies… which apparently bite into your flesh and suck your blood.
We had been swatting away these flies all afternoon and a few of us even applied insect repellent.
I remember standing by the braai area, along the river bank – about three meters from the water. I saw horseflies on my swimming shorts and started swatting them away – with my left hand. Caught in the moment – persistently trying to remove them I felt my ring slide off my finger. I looked up to Philip who was standing at the braai and yelled: “The ring!” It was a little while before I heard a “ping,” and I knew it landed quite a distance.
I just got down on my knees and started looking for it. As did Philip. Firstly, close to where we were standing. I didn’t see the ring fall off my finger – so we had no idea what trajectory it took. I was worried it fell in the water but convinced myself I didn’t hear a “plop”. All of a sudden the rest of Phil’s family came rushing to see what we were doing (Phil’s niece Myriam who had been kayaking was wondering why we were picking flowers).
Upon realising the ring was missing, everyone helped us look. All I wanted to do was call my parents and ask them to pray.
Philip was quiet. Just looking persistently. He asked me which way I was facing when the ring came off and proceeded to search in that area. He even jumped in the water to check. I joined too and that was useless because the water was quite deep for me. He then tried to help me get a firm grip on one of the reeds along the bank. We realised we needed goggles to be able to look in the water. So we abandoned that plan.
He didn’t lash out at me – not once. Nor was he rude to anyone else, even when asked if he had insured the ring (he hadn’t). We spent a good few hours digging into the sand, peeling back blades of grass. It eventually became too dark to keep searching. Philip was considering getting divers to get the ring – he was considering anything to get it back and was determined to try everything he possibly could to find it.
I eventually managed to get hold of my phone and asked my dad to pray because I had lost the ring. When Phil asked what I was doing – I told him I was getting reinforcements. That’s the only way I know how to respond to difficulties as well as victories in my life – turning to Jesus.
It was a difficult evening. We couldn’t really eat. We were so deflated. We went from being the happiest people – whose lives had changed by a decision – to the most worried, stressed and sad people on the camp. Our happy day had the worst dampener imaginable.
Phil and I stepped aside and discussed what happened. We were both disappointed but he kept assuring me that he was not disappointed in me. We agreed that our relationship was more valuable than a ring. The ring was just a symbol of our commitment – it was not the commitment.
But I worried about the money he spent – and what he potentially lost in a matter of hours.
I spoke to my parents on the phone. My dad was calm, telling me not to worry about the ring – in the grander scheme of things. My mother was balling her eyes out – because she wasn’t there to tell me to put the ring away. (She thought I had lost the ring while swimming). Well, I told myself things could have been worse. I was planning to do more kayaking on Saturday – and perhaps if I was still wearing the ring then I probably would have lost it in the deep water. So maybe it was good I lost it on land… I thought all kinds of things to justify what happened.
Phil and I prayed over the situation. And that’s when I realised that as soon as we got engaged – we didn’t pray or give thanks to God for how far we had come in our relationship. We only did that in the middle of a crisis – while we were praying to Him to help us find the ring, I gained perspective of God’s goodness and grace on our relationship.
It is not lost on me that the enemy came to steal our joy.
After all, John 10:10 says:
The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.
I knew it was a spiritual battle. I have always known that satan attacks families – and sows division and I knew this was just his attempt to do the same.
I pushed through that Saturday evening, playing board games with Phil’s family and I managed to find a reason to laugh through it all.
Act 3
I struggled to fall asleep on Saturday night, and woke up at 03:45 the next day. It was difficult to fall asleep again.
But eventually the rhythm of croaking frogs helped me drift off to sleep once more.
I started Sunday the same way I did Saturday – with bible study at the river. The grass was covered in dew, and I went to our search spot once more, trying my luck to find the ring.
My mum called that morning to tell me she woke up at 03:30, praying for us. She had a vision that the ring was glistening in the sunlight. She also prayed for me to stay calm and to trust God. Her words were this: “Whether we find the ring or not, God will still be on the throne. And that is the truth that never changes. God is the same, yesterday, today and forever. No matter what happens to us on earth, it doesn’t make him less God. He will always be great and mighty.
Similarly Phil’s mum mentioned having dreamt that the ring was found. I was hopeful but was also preparing for the opposite outcome.
That morning, Sam’s mum warmed some koeksisters. I told her that the koeksisters had made my Sunday – no matter what happens next. I had a built up an appetite at least and managed to eat a few. Phil could only eat one. And I was worried he was stressing a lot more then he let on.
Philip and I had experimented with coins – tossing them in the water to see if they reflected light and if the ring could possibly do the same. He took another dip in the water to investigate whether something shiny I spotted in the water was the ring… it was not. (Even though it’s summer, the water is incredibly icy).
We kept looking and on the grass I saw the exoskeleton of a locust, well half of it. I recalled a verse in the Bible where God said he would restore what the locust had eaten.
The full verse is in Joel 2:25:
I will repay you for the years the locusts have eaten — the great locust and the young locust, the other locusts and the locust swarm — my great army that I sent among you.
My family had been through a lot – my dad was hospitalised and went through a major surgery and both my brothers have been through difficulties of their own. So in light of everything that had happened in the past few months, I suppose this was my last plea to God – to return the ring and restore our joy 10-fold.
Act 4
Phil and I had been apprehensive to ask the campsite staff for help, but at this point we thought it was our last resort. We asked for goggles and possibly a metal detector because we had lost a ring. Denmore, one of the staffers said he would find someone who could dive for us and help us search for the ring.
And that’s when we met Sheldon. A spunky guy – I assume a local – who had returned from a hike. He asked what we had lost and we explained what happened. Sheldon said he knew someone who has a metal detector. As it turns out, he called a friend who had a number of someone who had the metal detector. To our delight, the person with the metal detector was willing to help.
Sheldon had another errand but told us to wait for about an hour.
The guys with the metal detector arrived – they were super friendly and we explained the situation to them. They looked in the area where we suspected the ring to have gone missing.
I was hopeful at first but then we kept finding bottlecaps and even steel rods. I was convinced the ring was not in the grass… but actually in the water. Sheldon returned and ventured into the water with the metal detector. It wasn’t very effective so he went old school and snorkeled his way about the river. He knows it best and knew which places to check.
He eventually resurfaced without the ring. At this point Phil and I had given up on the metal detector. But then Sheldon decided to take over metal detector duties. Phil and I watched him go about the same areas we did. We were starting to make peace and accept that the ring was gone.
I couldn’t even hear the metal detector going crazy – I think I was just preparing for the worst outcome. Sheldon kept looking. There is a detail I have missed. I don’t know if he called out to me or if I turned around at the exact moment Sheldon held out the ring – but there it was!
I looked at Phil who was in disbelief, double checking before he could smile.
And all I could say to Sheldon was: “You are coming to my wedding! You are coming to my wedding!” He asked me if he could bring a plus one and I said yes! I also asked if I could kiss him on the cheek. Later while we were driving back to Cape Town, I asked Philip if I really kissed a stranger during the Covid-19 pandemic.
Hero: Sheldon will forever be mentioned in the story of how we got engaged. Even our children will know about him.
I also asked Phil if we could name our first-born son Sheldon… but I think it will take a lot more convincing for him to agree.
I was just blown away by Sheldon’s kindness and his persistence to find the ring. He was a complete stranger who went out of his way to help us.
That just confirmed to me – I need to be less closed off to people. Phil and I naturally keep to ourselves. But this has shown me we need to open our hearts more. The world is disappointing – but not entirely. And it’s a risk – but you have to do it – you have to let the walls come down to see the goodness that is out there.
Sheldon would not accept any repayment from us – but simply asked us to return again. That decision was already made – even before I lost the ring – the peaceful environment at Wolfkop is something special and worth the two-hour trip from Cape Town.
Phil and I were discussing with Myriam how the whole ordeal played out. We agreed that if we had not found the ring, we would have both remained disappointed and the car ride home may have been awkward.
At the same time- I feel like we also learnt a lot more lessons. Like the importance of insuring valuable items, realizing that material things don’t matter, always to honour God, and I was truly convinced Phil – this level-headed man, calm under pressure – is the right choice in a husband.
I am a little traumatised and probably won’t wear jewellery for a long time. I may only wear the engagement ring at my wedding day (I know – I’m dramatic).
The ring that caused all the drama
We had engagement photos taken in our favourite park.
The weather was perfect.
We even got to express our joy with my favourite pastime.
As I type this – the emotions are settling a little. Although over the past few days it has felt like my head is still in the clouds.
I think I have a little more perspective of what’s valuable in life. After we got engaged, I automatically felt protective over Phil, didn’t want him to get hurt. I felt extra grateful for our families – without them we wouldn’t be the people we are today.
I also realised that we could have lost something more important if we had given up on getting to know each other better during the early stages of our relationship. I am glad we each gave each other a chance and trusted God through the process. He has been leading us through everything, and if a lost ring is the worst kind of crisis we have ever experienced as a couple- then I guess it’s not that bad.
Importantly – I am grateful God helped us find each other.
As I wrap up my Food Systems Transitions assignment, I am constantly finding myself re-reading and amending the darn thing. It’s like I am afraid to let go, because once I submit it will mark the end of my learning journey at the Sustainability Institute (SI).
I do not want that moment to just pass by. I want to appreciate it for what it is, because it has been one of the most incredible experiences of my life and finishing off with a module on food – something every human can relate to – is quite symbolic of what the SI represents to me, and that is connectedness.
I have always considered myself as independent, navigating the world on my own (well, with God alongside me). But the point is I had not seen the value of relationships until I started the postgraduate diploma at the SI. And I don’t just mean relationships with people – who all have amazing stories to tell about how their experiences shaped them – but also relationships with the environment, the earth from which we all came and to which we will return. My appreciation for nature has just swelled over the past year and a half.
Even though we didn’t always get to go to the SI, due to the Covid-19 lockdowns, I think I was still made aware of how I am part of this world and how it is part of me. I think it was Complexity Theory and Systems Thinking lecturer Rika Preiser who shared how she learnt that she doesn’t actively have to be in nature to feel part of it, because nature is in her. So that kind of stuck with me… I am not a one-woman show. I am part of this interdependent, complex system, and we sort of make each other what we are.
That is probably why I keep fiddling with my assignment. I am just zoning into one area of focus which is part of a bigger, complex food system and I want to make sure that my awareness of the complexity of it all comes through. That, and the fact that when you keep reading something you find grammatically errors you didn’t see before. I am worried that if I keep reading and rewriting I will not submit… At some point you just have to stop, otherwise it will never be complete. I suppose that just speaks to how weird the idea of deadlines or submissions are – it’s like taking a snapshot of a moment – freezing it as it is and not paying attention to what might have happened next or what happened before that might complete the story.
And just because the rest of the story isn’t captured doesn’t mean it didn’t happen.
I feel like my experience at the SI, my assignments and even these blog entries are just a snapshot of what happened or is happening in my life. The snapshot does not tell the complete story. And just because the rest of the story isn’t captured doesn’t mean it didn’t happen.
So as I type this, “Lameez’s last assignment” – as I heard my dad tell my brother so that he wouldn’t disturb – I want to also acknowledge that this is not the end of the learning journey. It continues. I am also grateful for my experiences before I embarked on this postgraduate diploma, because it led me to apply and try this as a part-time student.
I never thought I could juggle work and school, but by God’s grace I did. Yes – I missed countless ballet classes, hikes, game nights and coffee dates with friends (but that’s also because of the pandemic). Oh and now there are quite a few Netflix documentaries and currently four books I need to catch up on reading. But it was all worth it in the end.
When I look at the snapshot, all I can say is, “WOW! That was epic.”
I think I have made a breakthrough in my learning journey with the Sustainability Institute.
I have been writing up my Food Systems Transitions assignment – which considers whether alternative food networks are a powerful tool to make our industrialised food system more sustainable.
While it is clear the food system – and many other parts of the economy – have had negative impacts on the environment, society and even human health, it is not clear how to make things more sustainable. Well, that’s what I thought when I first started this postgraduate diploma.
I distinctly remember sitting in a lecture about the Multi-Level Perspective framework on sustainability transitions and being in awe of how this theory of change could possibly turnaround the fate of our planet which was heading for flames (quite literally due to global warming). The lecture – which was part of the Sustainable Development module – was far more illuminating for me, than the articles I read. This was mainly because the articles were quite wordy, and it is a bit of a complicated matter and I really needed to pay attention to all the parts.
But even after the lecture, I couldn’t really re-explain the theory. And so I did not rely on it to write up my Sustainable Development assignment. I felt quite disappointed in myself for that.
Interestingly, the Multi-Level Perspective has cropped up quite a few times in readings for the Food Systems Transitions module. And funnily the theory makes so much more sense when applied to the food system. It’s not that we weren’t given practical examples before. Perhaps food is just more relatable. In fact I used the theory to reinforce my argument for the assignment.
I can confidently say that the theory is: For there to truly be a structural shift in our unsustainable systems to become sustainable, then changes have to happen on three levels: niche, landscape and regime.
Considering the example of decarbonising the energy sector:
The existing energy sector is considered a regime dependent on fossil fuels for energy generation. The burning of fossil fuels like coal results in air pollution, water pollution, the release of greenhouse gases which is contributing to global warming and by extension, climate change. These emissions and pollution also have a negative impact on human health. This regime is enabled by policies and regulations that promote fossil fuel use or business investment in fossil fuels.
For this regime to be destabilised or change – for example to have policies that promote cleaner ways of electricity generation there needs to be pressure or change in the landscape in which the electricity system is embedded. These pressures could be climate change – forcing governments and businesses to depend less on fossil fuels – or a change in government whose policies endorse environmental protection, or if fossil fuels become less profitable for businesses. The landscape is would represent the catalyst for an innovation – or a niche – like renewable energy generation plants such as solar PV plants or wind farms.
The thing is – you can have one thing – like an innovation of solar PV plants, but on its own, it will do little to force the energy generation industry to switch away from fossil fuels. The innovation needs to coincide with those on the other two levels – the landscape and regime. The case for renewable energy needs to make sense or be compelling for participants in the regime – business and government. And these participants will only find it compelling if something happens in their environment or landscape that warrants the change.
It has taken nearly 18 months, but I am quite chuffed that the Multi-Level Perspective makes sense to me, so much so that I could apply it to food systems change in my assignment.
I find it interesting that it has taken this long for the penny to drop, and perhaps this is my theory of change – I know I have probably said many other things are my theory of change, or my theory of change might be different when I discover something else in future. But for now, this is making sense.
Moral of the story: Be open to changing your theories.
I am going to take this as a win, because during a pandemic, they are quite rare.
Growing up, I was usually the only coloured person in most rooms. Especially school. I used to dread cultural or heritage days – because I always had to overexplain my being in this world – and the story always turns out a bit underwhelming for the listener.
I am three parts coloured and one part Indian. But in appearance, I look 100% Indian. So most of the time I have to explain to other Indians (and everyone else who is not my family) that I am not Indian, cannot speak the language, do not share the culture, traditions or religions.
And if you really want to know what my culture is – it’s mostly a Christian upbringing. We celebrate all the Christian holidays. That’s about it. No big, fancy, colourful weddings, or funerals for that matter.
I guess the only interesting thing about my heritage is the food my mum cooks. I only realised that after taking the Food Systems Transitions course. Now at the age of 30, I am shocked to learn, that my school assignments probably would have been 10 times better if I wrote about the food my mum cooked captured our culture so accurately.
My mother cooks Western foods – a typical Sunday roast (chicken/ beef / lamb) with vegetables, or a mid-week beef stew is common. I used to love eating stew when I was younger, it was not as spicy as the curry my mum cooked. I only grew to love curry the older I became, and I suppose as my taste buds developed a tolerance for the spice. This probably explains why I was also so tiny as a child, because I dreaded those hot meals. Now I complain when a meal is not spicy enough – but also not too spicy, you need to find a balance.
The curry my mum makes is also different to Malay curry – it’s not sweet and she relies less on tomatoes. (I confess, I am a bit heavy handed with the tomato). which my Indian friends cook. I love it when she rolls rotis too. But another specialty is chicken breyani, with deep fried papar, or what other people call papadam.
The 4 stages of papar: It has a crispy texture but melts in your mouth.
My mother gets the papar from my aunt, who sources it from a small, family farm – which also happens to be a chicken farm.
My mother indirectly support this small business, keeping money flows within the local economy, without realising it. She’s preserving a culture, and I assume is limiting adverse impacts on the environment through reduced food miles. But she’s not actively taking the decision to do these things. She just likes the products because it’s good quality food.
It made me think – are people participating in alternative food movements, without even realising it? Are they preserving their cultures, the environment and local economies… without realising it? These activities are just a routine they may be living by, or a habit, without requiring of them to give it a second thought.
It speaks to my assignment – which focuses on alternative food networks. These are movements which have emerged over the years in opposition to industrial agriculture and food systems, which are considered to have contributed to environmental, economic and social challenges associated with the food system.
My mother also engages in certain cooking methods, like making her own riata with fresh herbs and chilies.
Finishing touch: A raita is quite possibly the “cherry on top” that makes a breyani delicious, the cold against the heat has a neutralising effect. I also think the raita tastes better the second day, after absorbing the flavour of the chilies and herbs.
I don’t think my parents or extended family would actively participate in an alternative food movement like Slow Food. Curry is a staple. Not some deeply heroic decision.
I suppose, I regret not paying enough attention when my mother cooks. My curry is not half as good as hers. And now I am curious to learn all her tips and tricks – because I see the value in cooking food by following certain methods. It’s more than just getting the recipe right with the tastes and textures in place. It’s a ritual – connecting us to those who came before us – and which will be passed on to those to come.
I must admit – my mother regards cooking as therapeutic – so she often doesn’t allow me to help either – I think it would break her flow, every time she has to stop and correct me. But I do think it will be worth the trouble… the alternative food movement and the great transformation of the food system I want to be part of, has always been right in front of me – it’s my mother’s kitchen.
I wish I was writing this under different circumstances, but also not. Because the current circumstances have made me value the present and that has led me to write what I feel now.
I feel many things. I feel sadness because my dad is ill. And I can’t help him, besides pray. I feel hope and have faith that he will be healed. I feel fear, of the unknown. I feel joy because I got to spend a few days with my family. I also feel gratefulness. I am grateful to my dad. And I am grateful to Father God, for letting me have a dad like mine.
Maybe it’s Covid-19, but I do find myself appreciating life so much more than I used to, that of mine and those I care about. When I celebrated my birthday this year – the one thing I was most grateful for was to be alive. Never once in all my years had I valued good health and the ability to breath, as I did this year. And now, I feel the same way about my dad. I am grateful for everyday that we can spend with him. Things like arguing with my parents now seems senseless, a waste of time and energy.
After he had a fall a few weeks ago, I begged God not to take my dad away. I have never asked God that. I’ve asked him to protect my parents or heal them – all positive, life-giving actions. But I have never accused God of doing something harmful in my way of asking. It was out of desperation because I was over 1 400 KM away from my family at the time. Or so I thought. Now that I am with my family, I find myself asking God the same thing. “Don’t take my dad away, please”.
But the joke is on all of us silently crying – when we could be freely bawling our eyes out together.
The last time I felt like this was when I was 15. My dad was hospitalised back then. I remember I had exams to write. So between the stress of having to study for my exams, I was fearing the worst. The anxiety hasn’t changed, 14 years later, even though I am an adult. I’m still “silently crying” to look strong for everyone else’s sake (but the joke is on all of us silently crying – when we could be freely bawling our eyes out together).
School and now work are pressure points, but I am protecting life from it. Instead of distracting myself with these things – I am making an effort to feel and be present. Too many times, I have pushed my emotions aside to just get on with life. But that’s not helpful. The pain doesn’t go away just because you forget it is there. I need to protect life, and not distract myself from the things that make me human. In a way it’s a wake-up call to what truly matters in life. It’s not the job that’s taking more than eight hours of my day. Or any degree I can hang on a wall (although it is a desire of mine to get a PhD… so that my dad can truly say there is a doctor in the family).
The point is, the mental obstacles I had to cross in 2007 are even harder to conquer, because you can tell the difference in the value of things. Family trumps work to-do lists and prestige. There’s so much more to lose the older you get, because you realise the wealth you have in life is wrapped in your relationships with people. The longer you know someone – the more you care for and love them.
My mother reminded us of a Bible verse that she read when my dad was ill back in 2007.
The Lord sustains them on their sickbed and restores them from their bed of illness.
Psalm 41:3, NIV
It helped her get through the mental gymnastics last time. And she is holding onto it this time. It’s been a welcomed promise of God’s goodness for me. It’s also been a reminder of all the other things he has brought our family through.
This time, I have an army of friends praying and trusting God with me for my dad’s healing, because I don’t want to imagine a world without my dad. Even though I am 30 years old – capable of starting my own family – I still look forward to my dad asking me about my car, whether I checked the oil and water.
That part of childhood, where you always look to your parents for assurance, never leaves you. I still see myself as a child, mirroring the way he crossed his legs. I take his advice seriously and get upset when he doesn’t want to share his opinion on some things, especially after I have asked. Just the other day he showed me how to wrap a wire in insulation tape – and I certainly would have botched it if I did not ask him for help.
Say cheese: Forever failing at taking selfies.
I enjoy his dad jokes, and his enthusiasm to show me a new video, or tell me about a new app or TV show. Also – I only watch rugby and soccer games because of my dad. I have no other interest in it, except to discuss with him whether a game was “kook water” or not. I’m pretty sure I became a journalist because he religiously watches the news in the evenings and buys the Sunday newspaper. I think my deep sense of responsibility for the world around me, comes from watching him lead at church, at his workplace as a school principal and serving his community – even before he was elected a councillor.
Thanks dad for my dark shade of skin and thick Indian locks, my sense of humour and desire to make people laugh because I have learnt from how you do it so well, my love for peanut butter and jam sandwiches and Neapolitan ice-cream, my interest in learning, technology and now rugby, and for sowing into my relationship with God. Even in this difficulty, you still point us to Father God when you tell us, “God is good.” These are just a few of the countless things you do that make life beautiful. I am still living to honor God because that’s what you taught me. I am still learning from you.
It’s been three days since completing classes for the Food Systems Transitions module, and there is one thing which has really stuck with me.
During one of our morning reflections – we discussed the role of consumers in shaping the food system. And quite some time was dedicated to discussing how solutions like regenerative farming and organic farming could be scaled – because at the end of the day we need to make nutritious food accessible to those in need of it.
One of my classmates highlighted, that perhaps we shouldn’t aim to scale up but to scale deep in our food practices. Ultimately, it’s about each individual’s journey of discovery and knowledge-building about food. I understood it as people learning more and adapting their practices at an individual level – that will be the foundation of change at a wider scale.
So the question of scaling deep has occupied my mind, and I reflected on my food choices. I had been a vegetarian for a number of years – it was not motivated by the need to reduce the environmental impact of my diet, even though I had been aware that cattle were responsible for pushing up methane emissions. I was surprised to learn last week that vegan diets which are reliant on soybean – was responsible for increased land use for agriculture and that deforestation was much more harmful in terms of pushing planetary boundaries that sustain life.
I had also listened to a podcast which similarly tackled the debate about whether eating meat or plants was better for reversing climate change. Interestingly the point raised was that multinational companies were pushing the responsibility on consumers – when actually they had the power to reverse climate change by changing their practices of production which was much more harmful to the planet than a consumer’s decision to eat meat or follow a plant-based diet.
It’s not about whether my diet is meat or plant heavy – but rather the practices involved in getting that food on my plate.
I agree to some extent. It’s not about whether my diet is meat or plant heavy – but rather the practices involved in getting that food on my plate. A mindful consumer would choose to source their food from an organic farm or a regenerative farm. But I also recognise, that accessing such food is unfortunately pricey and not possible for all people.
In another discussion, a classmate said that he didn’t find it wrong to eat meat. In fact he preferred to source it directly from a farm, and actually see what the animal looks like before it is slaughtered. He felt that would make him be more connected with his food, more respectful of the animal, instead of buying a generic piece of meat in a supermarket. I get that too. I am so disconnected from my source of food. I feel like I would appreciate it more if I were to harvest my own vegetables, or if a group of my friends and I went through great pains to put money together to buy a sheep.
These class discussions also made me think about choosing culturally appropriate foods. As a child I used to hate curries, but developed a taste for it the older I got. I suppose my taste buds could handle the spice. Curries have sort of become a basic meal at home. I don’t think I place enough value on it – it’s more than something that just fills my belly. It’s a family tradition, a reflection of my heritage. I feel kind of terrible about opting for a more mainstream or western meal like burgers and chips. Or if I were to order pizza – if it wasn’t made the authentic Italian way – is that disrespectful?
The point is – I want to be more intentional about connecting with my food. Putting more thought into meals – whether it’s following a recipe to eat a dish as it was intended to taste or just actively sourcing meat or vegetables from sustainable producers.
Home-cooked: I made chicken curry this weekend and was mindful about eating it with my hands, so that it could be enjoyed as intended. It also reminded me a bit of home.
It’s a journey. But it’s also exciting. Food is more than something functional. Each meal is a story of life – and I want to pay attention to what the food is saying. Two-minute noodles or a cup of instant soup tells me that someone was in a rush or didn’t have time – because something more important happened that day. A roast lamb cooked by my boyfriend’s mum says that it’s a special occasion. A hot breyani with papar says it’s a Sunday in my parents’ house.
Over the past two days we have been learning about different food movements. Thursday’s content particularly was a deep dive into food sovereignty and the work of international peasants movements La Via Campesina.
La Via Campesina challenges industrial agriculture in favour of more small-scale farming. It’s about reclaiming agriculture practices based on indigenous farming knowledge which preserves biodiversity. It’s about seeing food as a right and not a commodity as it has become.
I have to admit, the videos we watched were quite emotive. It painted corporations as the bad guys, taking away agency from people when it comes to food choices. The message I got was that food sovereignty is seen as the foundation of food security and self-sufficiency.
I appreciated that we still took a critical view on food sovereignty as a movement – a paper by Bina Agarwal – touched on the drawbacks. One was that there is the issue of individual voice or agency being overridden by that of the collective. Or that the promotion of family farms doesn’t address the persistent gender inequalities.
What has become apparent to me is the complexity of it all. There is no one movement which flawlessly addresses various issues of justice – environmental, social and economic.
In another example, our group project focused on the Slow Food movement – which focuses on promoting and preserving local foods. While there are environmental benefits to the movement as it promotes organic farming, it does risk also being exclusionary of marginalised or vulnerable consumers who cannot afford local foods which are often pricey. Just because these different movements have flaws, does not mean they must be entirely dismissed. Being aware of the flaws helps us to improve movements.
Also, the Slow Food movement in the global North is more focused on consumer-driven approaches, while its work in the global South is more producer focused. What works in the Global North, won’t work in the Global South. But lessons from the frameworks implemented in the Global North are still worth considering when it comes to finding solutions for the Global South. This shows the need for movements to be fluid and to take different lessons and adapt to different contexts.
On Friday we touched on the different categories that food movements can fit into, which I felt is a useful tool to compare them and distinguish between them. While some of them share the same principles – in practice they are very different.
For example reformist movements seem to focus on food security, without changing the fundamental system. Progressive and radical movements could similarly pursue food security, but in practice involve changing systems.
Guest lecturer Stef Swanepoel suggested that at the end of the day – it is important for these movements to have a radical vision – even if they take different steps to attain the vision. The vision is the starting point.
Radical is painted as something quite negative. But we could imagine a world where we live with radical kindness, radical beauty, radical generosity. We need a radical vision.
It makes me think of a jigsaw puzzle and how the food system is not one where the pieces all fit perfectly. There are no simple solutions. We need a mix of solutions and that can be messy, there will not be clean cut pieces.
Instead we need solutions that are fluid like a river – finding ways around obstacles, converging with other streams and then separating, moving quickly at some points and then slowing down in other areas.
Lameez's Pieces 