The very first, very first date

Oh yeah, the first date… Do
you remember that feeling? The very first time you asked a girl out, with the
most innocent of intentions. Or as a girl, waiting on the edge of your seat for
the cute guy in class that you sorta kinda maybe like to “pop the question”;  nervous and excited at the same time…

I know that as a guy the moment
between asking the question and the waiting for the response felt like the
entire length of break time; and no time to eat your sandwich with the lump in
your throat.

Well… that’s because it was the
length of break time; that’s all the time you had really, and besides, even
back then a girl would have to deliberate with her girlfriends before getting
back to you with an answer.

Women… lol

And after patiently waiting
to hear those sweet words, you finally hear them, “yes I will go out with you”, and  you felt like the
enormous force that was clutching your heart and lungs has finally let go. Now
you can breathe and bask the feeling of awesomeness.

Pheeew!!!  …And now for that sandwich.

Deciding where to go for the
date was not hard, you were 13 years old, and conversing with the girl you like
was hard enough. Now, conversing with her outside of school grounds, wow!!  So the obvious choice, which also takes the
pressure off of conversation, was taking her to the latest movie at the popular
mall, where if you were lucky your class mates would spot you, and instantly,
you would be the talk of the playground come Monday morning.

(Fist pump) YES!!

Mmmmhmmm, you dressed to
impress for this one. Plus you have seen how she looks on civvies day, oooh
mama! So you had better bring you’re A-game.

So, with the innocent
intentions, you take a ride in the back seat of your mom or dads car, to your
very first date… hoping that maybe during the course of this day time affair you
will get to hold her hand, or better yet around her waist. The bonus, as a guy,
would be receiving the cherry on top, a kiss on the cheek. Only the brave
ventured for the whole cake, the pierce de résistance… A mbaa (peck) on the
lips.  Oooooooooh!!!

Timing is everything; if you
were late, you could kiss your hopes goodbye. If you didn’t wait for the light
finger brush and for your hands to dry before reaching for hers, consider that
the beginning of the awkwardness.

There were also a few things
that were key:

  • She has already said yes to the date so you have
    done something right. BUT don’t get comfortable, you are still trying to
    make an impression.
  • Always have gum. YOU DO NOT want the last thing she remembers about that date, to be your unprepared (foul) breath as you tried to whisper something in her ear in the movie theatre.
  • Be a gentleman. You know you were taught better than to mistreat a lady.
  • And have fun DAMMIT, it’s your first date.

Aah the good old days… Dating
was simple, and determined only by your parent’s pockets. Hahahaha!!

I don’t remember my very
first date going so well. I had made the mistake of buying a gobstopper sweet along
with my popcorn. Gobstoppers are tricky things to eat. I always opt for sucking
on it with my entire mouth as apposed to licking my way through multiple layers of hard candy. I later found out that she thought I was practicing
how to kiss; which explains a lot about the rest of the date.

– Call me Dizzle


Call Me Big Brother

As far as I’m concerned, being the first born male is a
hard role to play in any family. Now imagine having to play that position next
to a young lady almost two years your junior and twice as cute.

Oh the pressure!

Introducing… Sandiswa Yolanda Sokutu, my little sister.

I know this should be a baby picture considering i said “cute”, in this photo she was already a young lady… and beautiful.


see what I mean…?

This was the evening of her matric dance. She was so happy.  And you should have seen her in that dress…
she looked stunning.

I’m so glad that her day turned out great; my matric dance
turned out to be one of the longest nights of my life! …but we will get to that
later 😉

I call her biscuit, for no particular reason; however, I
think I may have been eating one at the time, or thinking about eating one,

I’m told that as a littler me I used to call her nomaSansandi wam (as in she was mine and she was little and precious… and mine)
and wouldn’t even let our parents hold her on occasions. Like, when it was time
for either of them to take her for a nappy change or something, I would hold
her tighter, pull away from my parent saying “yeka oNomaSanSandi wam!” which
loosely translated means “leave my little precious Sandi alone”.

It wasn’t all sunshine and roses though. i grew up, i became selfish…

[we’ll get into it]

We’ve come a long way though. She is a young woman now, with
boobs and things. Weird I know; but I love every minute I get to watch her grow

I must admit though, she has weird taste in men. As in if
you were to even for a second, imagine what type of guy she would be dating at
this present moment, just from this very picture… YOU WOULD BE WRONG!!

But hey, it’s not for me to say what type of guy should tickle
her fancy. I’m just here to respectfully watch them come and go until the day I
meet my brother in law.

I love you nomaSanSandi. You really is the best, my one and

Her name is Sandiswa Yolanda Anikwa Sokutu (not on her birth certificate), and i’m her big brother.


– Call Me Dizzle


Call me Dizzle

My name is Wanda Masake Sokutu, but you can call me Dizzle. What i am is the product of Nosisi and Tamsanqa Sokutu (my loving parents). Who I am? Well… first and foremost I AM LOVE (yes!! You are too), secondly i am a human being, beyond the categories that follow. I am young, black, between the ages of 25 to 35, intelligent, educated, creative, talented, inspiring, caring, spiritual not religious, passionate, funny and a whole lot more.

First name Wandumzi, in m culture means “new edition to a home”, second name Masake which means “let’s build”, last name Lwandile (not on my birth certificate), which means “what has been built has been reaped”,

My favourite story of my childhood, told by my mother, happened before I was born. I have only heard this story once and it was told at a crucial point in my life were I did not have a clue what I am doing on this earth (which is a cyclical thing… existential crises and all). Trying to find MY purpose; which i’m still working on but after that story I have a clearer direction every time i thing about it…

When nestled in my mother’s womb in the first stages of my outreach and the first trimester of her pregnancy, tests and scans showed that there was an embryo but no indication of life; there was no heart beat of any kind or signs pointing to one. Which meant that she would have to evacuate her dormant but occupied womb . This, as you may imagine, put my mother in a flat spin of emotions. This was her first child and he or she wouldn’t make it.

So after two weeks of weeping and struggling with the decision that she had to make, she made the appointment.  And like any mother, before resorting to something so extreme, so permanent, which also seemed to be the correct prognosis, she asked the doctors to do one more scan, look one more time…as if to reaffirm that her that all her anguish, hope, disbelief and anger had to amount to something better than the presented alternative; and there I was… B-boom… b-boom… b-boom… making my presence known.

[My mother liked saying that I have always liked things done on MY time, always taking it easy; which has been an eternal truth in my lifetime thus far].

I fought to get here, so there must be a reason i’m here right?

I am part of a typical nuclear family. My younger sister and I complete the definition. Typical we may be, normal we are not

[we’ll get into that].

I got the nickname Dizzle sometime in high school from my friend Simon, during a chill session at home (unsanctioned by the folks of course) . I was first Wandizzle, which was shortened mid-laugh and stuck.

I know this not much, but this is only an intro.

My name is Wanda Masake Sokutu, but you can call me Dizzle