16 days. 16 voices. 16 lives.

Before I even begin to talk about this, you may be wondering…

Who the heck is this chick to talk on such an important and highly sensitive topic? So, let me introduce myself, for those  of you who don’t know me.

I’m, like the blog URL says, Cath Jenkin. Unashamedly so. Who am I? Well, to pay the bills and do what I believe I can do in this little (yes, I really am this short) body and with this beautiful life of mine, I am the IT and New Media Manager for HIV-911. HIV-911 is a referral network of HIV/AIDS service providers which enables people in South Africa to access information and know where to go when they need to know something about HIV, want to be tested, need help, need treatment, need care…and need love. At HIV-911, I get to be involved in an abundance of empowering technological projects that aim to enable people in need to get the help they deserve.  HIV-911 enables me to be who I am, and lets me fulfill my true soul desire to do something to help other people who cannot or feel they cannot help themselves.

That’s by day. By night, I work and write for a premier Web Development company, The Forge. I’m lucky to be blessed with enough trust and insomnia, to channel all my energies into things that I love to do. And The Forge lets me be creative in an environment that excites me.

The symmetry? Both organisations are run by superwomen.

Sometimes, I write for Parent24. Sometimes I write just for me. Sometimes I even write for you.

But, the most important name and title I own, is mama. I am a single mom to the world’s most precious princess, Cameron. She is four and every day, I am thankful that she chose me to be her mom.

So, now you know.

One thing most of you don’t know. Is that the 16 days of activism campaign means more to me than just a campaign.

One of the people you think of during this time, who have been victims of domestic violence and abuse, is me.

Sure, I am one of the lucky ones. I was able to remove myself from it. I was not physically scarred for the rest of my life. I was able to get the help I needed. I had good friends and I had the power to not be in that situation anymore. Most people do not.

Abuse isn’t just smacking someone into the floor, or a wall. It’s also about emotional abuse. It’s also about the domination of one person over another. It’s about the gulp in your throat late at night when you do not know who is coming home to you, and whether or not you’ll be okay in the end.

I survived. I got out. I won. And every single day, I live.

But, I’m not here to talk about me anymore.
I’m here to talk about the people who help people like me. I’m here to talk about the people who are the light at the end of the tunnel, and who hold the hand of someone in pain. I’m here to talk about the people who are the enablers towards a future.

As part of the Foschini Group’s 16 Days of Activism campaign, I am honoured to be asked to talk about these tireless heroes and heroines.

Because I am a proudly Durban girl, I chose not only an organisation I know well and work with but one that is situated close to me.

Life Line runs a wide variety of variety of programmes, geared towards helping people in crisis, move towards a future. From children, to families, to men, to women, even possibly…you.

Life Line operates a 24-hour, confidential counselling line on 0861-322-322

Life Line’s counsellors are compassionate, caring and well-trained. I know. They’ve counselled me before. Life Line’s counsellors are not afraid to be human, and won’t let you feel alone. Life Line’s counsellors are truly THERE for you.

I know. They have been there for me before.

Life Line aims to remind people in need that, no matter what, no matter how very deeply down a dark tunnel they are, they are not alone. Not only that, Life Line looks to empower and educate and so, runs numerous training and capacity building programmes.

Life Line is not a rich organisation. It does not seek to make profit off pain. It does not exist for any other reason than to help people in need and support them through the darkest hours of life.

It is run by heroes and heroines.  Who love beyond themselves. I am thankful to them today, for existing. For never giving up. For always keeping the faith in the face of a situation that seems like it has none.

They are the heroes and heroines that enable those in pain to speak. To speak out. To live again.

i know…

i know because im looking at you.

does anything else actually matter?

Dear Tertia

Dear Tertia

Thank you for this post.

Thank you for making me feel okay about not being good enough.

Thank you for making me feel okay about worrying about dummies.

Thank you for making me feel okay that it’s better that there are no tears for mama and child.

Thank you for your courage to share your life with the world.

It is you I thank every day, mama Tannie T.

Thank you for inspiring me to keep writing.

Thank you for reminding me that the decisions Cam and I make for our lives are ours, and not to be influenced by anyone else, no matter who they are, or what they say.

I am mama, and I know the best way for my daughter and I.

Thank you for making me feel brave enough to admit that yeah…

Nappies were gone by 2; bottles were gone during 3, dummies are going. but they’re not gone yet entirely.

(on that note, Cam has told me that she’ll give them up when I give up smoking. eek. she’s  a smart one, that one).

And, swimming lessons resume again next year. But that’s not my fault or Cameron’s.The important thing is that she is brave enough to begin again.

Thank you for writing that post.

Of every single one of yours that I have read (and yes, when I found you, I read every archive and every post so I can proudly say I have read every single one)… this one…this one had me entirely.

Thank you.

From one rocking mama to another, thank you for being you.

smile

an artist at work

thank you for the photo.

stuffs

thank you for making me smile.

i needed it more than you know.

pieces of pictures i’ve tied together.

i thank you for them.

 

 

thank you

Miss Gates

 

For this

sotd

 

the saddest

the saddest part of life is not being able to fix the people you love.

 

you cannot cure the people you care for, of pain.

 

 

the stars

“i wish for you the stars”, he said.

 

so i drew it on my back when you were born.

i drew them on my arms when i was certain.

i drew them on my hands when i could not think.

i wore them on my fingers when i could not dream.

how funny. how funny that something my father said to me at the age of twelve still sticks with me every day.

random stuff i can’t say out loud.

sometimes. late sunday night phonecalls with good friends in the dark are just what they are.

 

“A.T.N.O.L, remember that rule of your youth?”, she said.

 

wow that was years ago when i was so much younger. so much more unsure.

 

“A.T.N.O.L. off they run, like uncle geoffrey said that one time and you giggled at that, probably because it was so true”.

“a self-fulfilling prophecy, almost. you always think you’re unworthy and give up”

 

“but if you were giving up now, we’d know. and you haven’t”

“why is this one different?”

so i asked myself

“why is this different?”

 

and then i knew

 

my hands shook like the old lady i’ll one day probably become.

so i write the name upon my hand and i think about the things that i may one day find.

and i don’t want to find any of them if they mean i can’t call you up and share them with you.