I found out I was a man

Dear Lwandle

I cannot pin point the exact moment nor time, that memory eludes me. However, it was at a very tender age. I was beginning to understand and comprehend words. I must have sprained my ankle, hit my foot on a rock or fell. My biggest defence and method for seeking attention for any affliction, was to cry, it was all I knew from birth and had served me well until that very moment. An adult, told me, “Indoda kayikhali” translated from my Ndebele mother tongue means, “Men don’t cry”. At that very moment, my young mind could not register the significance of those words or the weight they carried, a load I had to bear for the majority of my adult life years later. However, for the first time in my life, my tears could no longer be a defense, I found myself helpless, I was being conditioned, that as a man, I shouldn’t express my pain through tears, how best was I to communicate my pain?

No one ever taught me how to express or deal with my pain, only how to hide it in shame, ashamed of being seen as weak, seen as not being man enough. I have grown to exist, for the vast majority of my adult life, scared, avoiding, in every chance I could get, the possibility of shedding tears. Shedding tears was the first sign of vulnerability and I had to get rid of it, for my whole identity as a man, meant that I always had to be strong. Never showing any sign of “weakness” or expressing the full spectrum of my emotions, this resulted in me adopting the opposite margin of emotional expression, which was aggressiveness or toughness. Every interaction was viewed under this narrow lense.

If I am giving a handshake, I should make sure my grip is tight enough. If I am approaching a woman who I am interested in, I should always play the macho role, even though, at my core, I am as soft as they come. I believe in just expressing your feelings without having to constrain your emotions to fit the typical patriarchal standards. Given our history and the manner in which our species evolved, I do understand why as a man I am expected to have such an outlook on life, for the early man’s role, was to provide for and protect his family and this meant going into the jungle and adopting an animal instinct to survive and master his surroundings. This meant that we as men, had little to no time to evolve as emotionally empathetic beings (a characteristic I envy so much in women & any other person who has feminine traits) and in doing so, we left the emotional development to women. In as much as that served us back then, it sure does not serve us now.

The world has changed and gender lines and roles are being blurred every single day. What was previously entrenched as inherently “male” or masculine behaviour by nature can now be often at times be developed through nurture. This is how some of my ideals around manhood and masculinity started hitting a brick wall. I started coming across people who identified as women but embodied the full spectrum of conventional masculinity. Assertiveness, being protective, the ability to lead, take charge and an immense interest in the spaces and roles means for “the boys”. On the other end, I have since met many men, who can embody fully and are in touch of the conventional traits associated with the feminine. Compassion, empathy, tenderness, a love for bright coloured clothing and the ability to express fully the full range of their emotions.

I remember my father scolding me for apparently spending too much time in the mirror he said “Why uthanda isibuko kangaka, umuntu oyindoda” loosely translated to, “Why do you spend so much time in the mirror as a man”. I do not blame him nor do I hold anything against my dad, he was just being a man. A man following the rulebook set forth by other men before him, a rule book that was not to be questioned, a role we all had to fit in, no matter how harmful the extreme cases of playing by those standards could be, both to us as men and the people around us. The very nature of having to assert your manhood through violence, and emasculating another men through physical means or verbally, using terms that would refer to him as weak, soft , gay, or “being a bitch”.

Pity those who don’t feel anything at all.

Sarah J. Maas

Methods I had to use as a wordsmith and practitioner in the art form called battle rap, where the only trusted weapon of destruction against an opponent was to use the most demeaning words to emasculate him. Methods which had me dropping F bombs, not the ones you’re used to, the ones that told him he was of a certain sexual orientation, therefore he was weak, or a bitch and being a bitch was the worst thing you could ever be as a man.

I went through the cycle of having to always remind myself at every interaction that I was a man, and therefore a man can only act as such, I couldn’t cry in front of that first girl who broke my heart, I couldn’t cry when I was hurt that I had lost my chance to study at an international university. I could not express to my cousins that I failed to “fuck hard” the first girl that ever got naked in front of me. I lived in a constant fear, a fear of not being seen as weak or less of a man, a fear of failing to fit into a specific role.

However, I am now learning, as I grow and become comfortable in my manhood that I can be a fully emotionally present human being, exhibit the full spectrum of my feelings, express, in a healthy manner my frustrations and pain to those around me without having to be seen as less of a man. I am learning, I do not need to assert my manhood through having to tighten my grip in a handshake or having to feign an interest in motor mechanics whilst I have never been that much of an avid mechanics fanatic. I do not have to “fuck a woman hard” so as to prove that I am a man, I can still maintain the balance in masculine & feminine sexual polarity in a relationship without having to embody the violent machoism demeanour as programmed into me by adult films.

I hope to one-day raise a young man, who will not be bound by the same chains I was bound by. I hope I will one day raise a young woman who will not also contribute in the same patriarchal society that raises the same rowdy and violent boys by perpetuating similar norms that keep this cycle of a fragile male identity threated at every interaction by stepping out of line and exhibiting “feminine traits”.

A learning and growing man

Brilliant Delani Dlodlo aka Brintz

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Brintz is a socially conscious and razor-sharp lyricist from Bulawayo, Zimbabwe. His career started as a battle rapper for the Da Grapevine rap battle league owned by popular Zimbabwean hip-hop enthusiast, Naboth Rizla. It is through this experience that he honed his lyricism and well thought out themes for his music. His music employs authentic, introspective, and well-articulated lyrical content blended together with classical hip-hop soundscapes. He’s also known for experimenting with unexpected alternative sounds, a brilliant skill that captures listeners from all walks of life and varying musical tastes/affinities. The Brintz sound is a unique blend and a myriad of colours that create unique worlds with each release. It caters for every palette whilst drawing inspiration from his emotions, beliefs, ideas, dreams and aspirations.The debut project, Play The$e for Now EP which was released in October 2021 is his introduction to the world as a musical artist.