My parents are getting older, frail, and it scares me. One minute, I am young, fully reliant on them, And the next, they rely on me. The roles reverse in silence, without a warning sound, I hold their hands the way they once held mine, Guiding them through the spaces they taught me to navigate. I see time in their hands, the veins that map a history, Every gray strand is a story. The invincible pillars of my childhood now sway, And I want to prop them up, to freeze the moment, To shield them from the same inevitabilities That they once shielded me from. But how do you carry the weight of love? When love is knowing you can’t keep them forever? When love is standing in the doorway, Watching them leave a room, Praying they’ll be back again tomorrow? I feel the ticking clock in my chest, Every second louder, Every goodbye tighter, Because this stage of life is fragile. Yet, even in the fear, there is grace. They taught me how to love, How to care, how to hold on and let go. And now, as they age and get sick they teach me still: That love is in the doing, In the small acts of presence and patience, In the quiet reassurance of “I’m here.” So I walk beside them now, Just as they once walked beside me. Not knowing how much time we have, But knowing this moment matters most.

Dory was right: When life gets heavy, don’t overthink the whole ocean. Just keep swimming. #mondaymusings

@SueNyathi you have rekindled courageous conversations - Thank you for sharing your gift!

If you can be bought off you have no integrity whatsoever.

Eyo @NetflixSA can we get “The y in yOUR man is silent” next 👀 @Yvonne_Maphosa

This is what calling a man first or double texting feels like to me😭🖐🏼

Jonasi called HIV Iqosi and his pride didn’t let him take ARVS, Essie wanted to take care of him when he was really sick- jonasi’s pride - “I am not going to die in Soweto” He saw a gun from Joyce and he thought she wanted to kill herself: not him On his last days his daughter asked for an apology : and he said”I am the parent “ His pride: his pride killed him the most I see the sex addiction but his pride takes the cake. #ThePolygamist

Without the poison for Jonasi

This can never be me 🤞🏼

After The Polygamist,it only shows one significant thing about our Zimbabwean production industry , it really needs a lot of work. Zimbabwe has arguably the best story tellers(Authors) but they're lacking that final touch in the production part.

Craving mazondo epamoto😏

Good physical and mental health.

Please help me with a link to a hard copy of this book please! @SueNyathi you are absolutely amazing! Congratulations on such real life storytelling. What an experience🙌🏾🙌🏾🙌🏾🙌🏾

Maaan, I can’t imagine what it must feel to be @SueNyathi right. To have what feels like the whole world talking and loving something you created. Massive congratulations & well deserved too!

Jonasi! Jonasi! Jonasi! Yoh! #ThePolygamist

I know this could be grief talking but Zim healthcare is the pits of hell. Now my child will have to grow up without a father because of (admitted) negligence. They actually admitted they made a mistake 😭😭💔💔💔and now my husband is gone. 😭😭😭

Marriage is basically - a lifetime of conversation. Can you communicate, can you talk?

I got so many hugs today. I loved every single one of them. 🥹

Marry someone you love talking to. You'll come home to that voice, go to sleep to that voice, wake up to that voice. You'll have thousands of conversations, some deep, some dull, some in passing, some in anger. But if you can talk through anything, you can get through anything.