Forgive me father for I have...molested little boys.

Catholics are contagious. Before people cross themselves let me clarify. I believe it's common knowledge that since the beginning of time (no, really) Catholic priests have been molesting alter boys, but still young boys scramble for this "coveted" position, I'm reminded of a sacrificial lamb being sent to slaughter. The church publicly abhors this conduct but I feel they don't do enough to separate the wheat from the chaff with regards to their Priests. I can only imagine what it must be like for those young boys to be violated by someone the community respects.
A few weeks ago I was watching Steve Harvey's "Don't trip He aint through with me yet" where he poked fun at the church and on a more serious note he said he feels that a lot of the Priests and Pastors sitting in a confessional waiting to absolve Christians of their sins should be the one's doing the confessing.

To further cement this point I just read an article on a blog about Bishop Eddie Long and his alleged abuse of young boys in his ministry. This makes my blood run cold, that grown men do this and all while hiding behind religious garb. It reminds me of my cousins’ funeral this past weekend where I was particularly moved by the service and the man officiating it. On the way home after the funeral my Dad and me were discussing the funeral then he says "the only thing I had a problem with was the MC". I was confused because I thought he did a pretty good job. Then he elaborated that the man had recently been suspended from the Church and this was his first official Church task since he came back, and the reason for his suspension was that he had been accused of paedophilia!
Now keep in mind that this man lives in a rural town, he's a man of the cloth and he's married. But he was tempted successfully, now he'll always be the man who sodomised so and so. You can't get your good name back after that. When people ask me why I don't believe in the Church, this is one of the reasons. Besides the homosexual nature of the crime, and it being an "unAfrican" thing to do, you also break the spirits of these young boys; change and forever distort their destiny.
I know God forgives and loves his children because his capacity to love is incomprehensible. My aunt always says "behind the collar is a man, never forget that" and I tend to forget when his sermon moves me. If I was sitting in God's chair Heaven would be a lonely place I'd be sitting behind a NO UNAUTHORISED ACCESS sign and you my dear paedophiles are unauthorised...but I forgive you.

Now off to hell.

Give us us free!

I haven't blogged in a while. You missed me. Well if you guys can pretend Ne-yo's straight then you can pretend you missed my ramblings.

I've been busy dealing with office politics, family politics, seriously Juju you think you know but you have no idea! The biggest thing that has been going through my mind lately is that my dad forgets that I'm 22 years old and to his frustration I have interests that go beyond the walls of his house. Since I've started working at this expansion project I've received numerous invitations to go out with my colleagues but there's something in my dad's psyche that prevents him from being able to let his daughters have age-appropriate fun. So getting him to let me go out is like pulling teeth.

By nature I'm a home-body, so I was never a troublesome child who ran from home or any other such delinquent inspired behaviour, which is why I don't understand his reluctance to let me go out now. I lived for three years away from home, if I was going to get up to anything suspect it would have been done already. He is of the staunch belief that everyone is out to corrupt his daughters..."I don't know how to tell you this dad but I'm the corrupter"! He'd probably pass out if I said that to him but I don't understand parents who keep their children so "protected" from the outside world. I understand restrictions, I understand rules, even limited freedom makes sense to me but if that spills over into the life of a young adult it just breeds curiosity.

My colleagues go out for drinks regularly, I'm not a big drinker but I do like to hang out with them socially, it does wonders for the work relationship. My dad needs to subscribe to my forward thinking mentality...or I need to move out. Decisions decisions.

When I grow up

I remember when I was I was in Grade 6 I read a Sidney Sheldon book about this young ambitious and naive woman who was taking her baby steps in her law career. On her very first day in court, she was part of the prosecuters research team, she was set up by the crime boss on trial to deliver a package to the state's primary witness. The package was a canary with its neck broken. Obviously a play on the "sing like a bird" adage. The witness refused to provide the state with any more information so the case was dismissed and the crime boss was back on the streets and she lost her job. The bad guy wins.

But then the tenacity of this fictitious woman, Jennifer Parker was her name, broke down doors and she built her career victory by victory. Anyway this isn't a book review it's about how this book changed my life. I've always had precocious reading tastes because in the same year I read Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice. The difference between the two however was that Pride and Prejudice didn't make me want to be a strong-willed social climber even though it may be the reason I've always expected romance to lean towards story-book perfection. Sidney Sheldon's book made me want to be a lawyer, no debate, no trial just pure conviction of what my calling in life was. So what if I wasn't argumentative, who cares if I hated paper work. I wanted to be Jennifer Parker.

My dad was wary but delighted with my choice of career, as far as he was concerned he was raising a future lawyer. English has always been my strongest subject in school, I didn't understand what my teachers meant when they said "Your daughter is such a good reader Mr Tshabalala", I was flattered but I was also thinking "well that's useless". So when I got to matric and had to seriously consider what career path I was going to take, taking passions, talents, and strengths into account I figured I'd make a shockingly bad lawyer. So the only thing I could think of that I was good at besides athletics and sports was English and how much I loved to read and write. So I figured Journalism was my safest bet. My dad was gutted! From imagining the six-figure salary a lawyer could command to a dishevelled underpaid journalist he tried to convince me to convince myself that I didn't want to be a journalist.

I didn't. because a journalist is supposed to stick things through to the end right? Whatever. So I crossed borders and settled in Durban in pursuit of my dream. Jennifer Parker still lingers in the crevices of my memory because journalist or lawyer, man or woman, good reader or not everyone needs the drive which came so easily to Miss Parker.

Sidenote: She ended up dating the crime boss who set her up. The inspiration I drew from her was very selective. No crime bosses for Nono Parker...err...you know what I mean.

Daddy and the journalist...is that pride I see?