“No person is your friend who demands your silence, or denies your right to grow. ” – Alice Walker
I just finished reading a novel Nervous Condition by Tsitsi Dangarembga, a Zimbabwean author, and I don’t know if ‘m sad,angry or indifferent. I think it’s all mixed up. I am angry at each one of the characters in the novel; angry at men, at culture, religion and most of all the society. ‘M angry at the way women have to keep up to the expectations of the society and when they do not they are being victimized .’M angry that when men see independent women walking alone they label them whores.’M angry at the society for making women sacrifice so much for these men who do not appreciate a thing, but feel it’s their right and entitlement. ‘M angry at the fact that I have come to understand the plight of the female characters in the novel when I ought not to, but rather discard as fiction. ‘M angry at religion for making women into docile creatures that are expected to always remain mute. ‘M angry that in a vice to masculinity, men bury themselves, their emotions and take up pride. ‘M angry that some women are still apologetic because they are female, black, poor and most of all uneducated. Most of all ‘m angry at myself that even after reading Nervous Condition and writing this piece, I still feel weak, bottled up within, like my wings won’t take me anywhere.