The beauty of a man is a phenomenon I have beheld from afar.
Considering that my first inception of a man was a distant figure almost
as a figure of speech in the phrases my mother used to describe my dad.
Nevertheless, I grew to accommodate the emergence of mankind in my
life as with the birds and the bees… Even in having to reach an age
where my life was surrounded by men eager to conserve my glacier heart
from breaking.
Their conservation was futile… The very knowledge of my grace had
impeded me from much of a romantic love with them, even though it had
made me get along with them in particular rather than with women. It was
a sincere type of love that had me loving them even though I hated it.
I hated how I admired their freedom in the manner they carried themselves.
I couldn’t carry much, but the bucket of water in my hands, yet I’d
already cared for you before you could carry the world in your
shoulders.
I constantly got into heated arguments with men, that I couldn’t even
attempt to see the beauty in my counterpart. All because for the most
part, I was conflicted by my love for you.
In re-learning this love I learned how the African man had redefined his sense of worth.
In isiNguni we say, “ubuhle bendoda ziinkomo zayo.” Translated, “the
beauty of a man is his cows.” It imaginably traumatized the man, when he
found himself unable to provide the modern family with his cows.
Although “cows” in isiNguni could very well have meant “wealth,” a word
used to describe quality in any context.
For instance, when the soul of a man was traded as a slave for the
material realm, he stopped carrying his family value(s) on his shoulders
and started caring for the quantity of things that didn’t ensure the
quality of love he had for neither them nor himself.
Man of the modern family developed a poor behaviour that women
subsequently accepted as his beauty. Instead of cows it was the car, the
amount of bottles at the bar, and the monthly allowance for weave and
manicure appointments that made him worthy of her… Time. Things visibly
impermanent and feasibly unpleasant were a fair trade for her low
standardized world-view.
Over time, the notion of his beauty got so distorted that he
literally became beautiful. He paid for attention by paying more
attention on his looks for women that he wasn’t even matured enough to
look after. He had a disturbed masculine mentality or a mental
masculinity that conflicted with the reality of his self-worth.
Realizing my self-worth – the goddess within – I needed to see the god in his uncosciousness for the sake of your consciousness.
I needed to learn through my growing around boys and in meeting men,
that first and foremost your beauty had not eroded with time. It might
not have been cows nor land any longer; but it was your psyche when
you’d speak your mind, and willingness to listen and ‘spend’ time to
know her that be-trayed your wealth. It was for upbringing that I was
able to behold my own beauty in someone else’s sun, through our
willingness to reflect two sides of the same coin in the foreign
exchange of family value(s).
Thence I mused, that it was a man from a psychospiritually wealthy home who must have been taught true self-worth.
And a man who knows himself wouldn’t – even from a ‘poor background’ – be intimidated by a woman who was sure of her own self.
He would be able to give a kind of support that money couldn’t buy.
Have a wisdom that predates academia. And a will to leave a will that no
man could rob from his story.
I hope you grow to invest in your dreams with the will of your
forefathers and the love of your mother, for family value(s) is your
beauty, and your beauty your worth.
You’re gold babe.
Ma’…
.NobeNguni Nozulu
Original Poem can be found on: http://tobes23.wordpress.com/2013/07/25/ubuhle-bendoda/
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