Rise – Six

You are a wonder.
You are a flame.
Designed to astound.
Created to amaze.
Your trail you will blaze,
For all of your days.
You, my dear, are a wonder.
And while some wonder and
Fail to understand,
You don’t stop.
Keep moving.
You keep going.
Do not stop.
When you reach the top,
Fly higher.
Born limitless.
Keep your free.
Hold your peace.
You are a wonder.
You blaze on.

You Are My Cause

“If your day to day responsibilities were taken care of and you could throw yourself completely behind a cause, what would it be?”


Doing what I do every day. Striving to help people in any way possible. Making people realize that they are awesome – and I’m not saying that to make anyone feel good. IT IS THE TRUTH. You are awesome. You are beautiful. You are capable of achieving your goal. Actually…this cause is my day to day responsibility. Sure no one’s asking me to do it but I don’t care. When I do it, when I see that I’ve managed to touch a person’s heart after helping them realize that they are this big ball of awesomeness… I feel right. I feel good!

I want to continuously help teenage girls realize that they are beautiful and that they do have a future that goes beyond “getting married and having lots of babies”. Not that there’s anything wrong with that but if you’re a teenage girl with a goal to get somewhere – flipping pursue that goal! I want to help guys realize that the world needs MEN. Not boys. MEN. MEN shake the world. MEN make things move. MEN find wives. I could go on.

I want to help women who’ve been abused. I want to help men who’ve been abused. Anyone. Children of all ages too. I want them to realize that they are special and they have a place in the world. A place of significance.

See, in case you haven’t noticed… I have a pretty big heart. That is my cause. The world is my cause. The insecure. The beaten down. The hurt. The uncertain. They are my cause. The ones with potential. The ones who don’t see their potential. They are my cause. Children who don’t get love. Women who constantly cry. People in pain. They are my cause.

People are my cause. Helping people is my cause. A cause that I’ll throw myself into regardless of what my day to day responsibilities.

People are awesome. You are awesome. If you need help, well I guess you’re my cause. Why? Because I care.

“But Chipo, you don’t even know me.”

I don’t care. I want to. Because I care.

Because that is my cause.

That will never change.



Born Identity || My Own Victory

Born Identity

Born into this world as person number:


Born into this world as an addition.

A subtraction from the world of abstract and a number up in the world

Of the real.


Daughter. Son. Builder. Ballerina. Golfer. Runner.

Label after label as the years go by.

Born into this world where everyone sits,

Holding a label that will be stuck on every part of you.

Every part available.


Turn left. “You’re going to be great.”

Turn right. “You’ll never succeed.”

Look up. Down comes “You have ADD”.

Look down. A shattered mirror reflecting bits of your

Splintered identity.


Ears open to the directions of many who “know best”.

Others who really just know worse than the worst feel that

Your hymn book of life deserves their additional verse.

Mouth closed because “you don’t know who you are”.

Subject to more labels coming from near and far.


Forget that. Forget it all.

Shove out that mirror, stand up and make a call.

A call that signals loud and clear,

“This is my Born Identity that I am here

And I am going to be – me.”


“I am going to be who I choose to be.

I am going to be my own dispostions.

I will position my self on my own shelf and determine my rank

In this big place I call life.

I am me. I am my own identity.”


I am no label.

I am no copy.

I am no puppet.

I am no one else’s story.

I am my own victory.


I Am Me.

That is my Born Identity.


Why Are You Special?|| If I Could Repeat A Day…

If I could repeat a day?

I’d repeat today. This very day. 1st of September 2013. Why? Well…

I’ve had this niggling feeling in my mind to go to the teen service at my church and share with them. Teach them. I’d had this feeling for probably six months and today…I finally went and spoke to them. I was scared. I really was. I mean, I’m just fresh out of teenagehood and now I’m supposed to go and speak to these human beings? I know what I was like as a teenager. I saw how other teenagers responded to guidance. It was hard. Anyway, I got to the lesson and was received with listening ears and ready hearts.

I didn’t even know what I was going to talk about! I sat there and said

“God, you know what? You’ve put me here. I’ve prayed and read your Word and I’ve listened. Please let these children walk away with something.”

As I started speaking…I started telling them about myself. Where I study. What I do. The church I go to and what I do there. Then my mind made its way to a memory I hold so close to my heart.

I’m the leader of the Drama Department at my church. When I was first appointed I was scared. I wanted to run. I wanted to hide.

“Me? But I’m so young? I don’t know if I can lead!” I’d say. But God gave me His reassurance in many ways – another post for another day.

So I got to the first practice as being the leader and I began to speak to the team. I asked them to say their names, age, and what is special about them. The response I received left me wanting to cry. My dear friends struggled to say what was special about them. A couple even said “There’s nothing special about me.” I’m sitting there, looking at these amazing people. People with so much potential. People using their potential…and they had sad looks in their eyes. The sincerity in their responses touched me. I wondered why. I really did. Eventually, we all got to realize what was special about us. Some were delivered from this state of feeling inadequate. Others left confident. All in all..someone left with something.

So I tried out this exercise with the teens. The responses, once again, brought me to the verge of tears. In a good way. The first boy who was about 12/13 years old stood up proudly and said

“I’m special because God gave me the gift to play sport and run.”

Another kid stood up and said “I’m special because God gave me a spirit of generosity.”

A girl who looked like she was about 14/15 stood and said

“I’m special because God’s given me a gift to help other people and ultimately help myself through helping them.”

Their willingness and eagerness to express why they are special touched my heart. They are all gifted children and they know their source. They know where they come from. My verse for them was

Ephesians 2:10

“10 For we are God’s masterpiece. He has created us anew in Christ Jesus, so we can do the good things he planned for us long ago.”

We often forget these parts of the Bible when we go about our lives. We are God’s masterpiece. We are His Mona Lisa. His priceless work of art. And that’s what I emphasized to these teens. That we are special and we have a plan from God that has made us unique.

Their thoughtful faces and the smiles they had moved me. They may not have said much but their willingness to listen has left me feeling so happy.

So I’d like to urge you…reader…regardless of what your belief is…YOU ARE SPECIAL. Why? Well that’s for you to find out. Do it now. The moment we realize and accept and live out why we are so awesome…why we are so special…THINGS HAPPEN. Realize your potential.

Realize your purpose.

Get out there and show the world what you’re made of!


Finally I Can See You Crystal Clear|| Wedding Day|| Daily Prompt

Daily Prompt: Can’t Drive 55

She smiled as she took in her reflection. Her white dress hugged her body in the right places, showing off her statuesque figure. She smiled. She looked stunning and she knew it. She sighed with relief as she sat down. She needed to rest – it was the only time she was going to get a chance to rest for the entire day. She chuckled. A bride’s wedding day was one of the best days of her life but it was also one of the most active. She shuddered as she thought of all of the events planned for the day. A sense of peace followed right after the shudder. It was here. Her wedding day was finally here. She sighed as she took a bit of time to think of all of the heartbreaks she’d cried over. She laughed. To think that she’d cried over guys who would have had her feeling very uncertain if she were to wed anyone of them. She shook her head. The pains of adolescence and young adulthood were many but she’d endured. She’d made it. She thought of the very first day she met him.

She was in the midst of contemplating the emotionally draining relationship she’d found herself in. Then along came this guy with a wonderful smile and a sense of humour to match. She’d given him the label – Best Friend. But for a long time her heart had said otherwise. It took one fateful day – months after she’d ditched the last douche bag. She smiled as she remembered how he simply told her that he liked her and he was tired of sitting in the shadow of being a mere “Best Friend”.
She remembered how confused she’d felt. In the months that they’d become best friends, they’d shared everything with each other. Everything. The good. The bad. The ugly. The really ugly. She didn’t know if she could allow him to love her with all the baggage she had. Life was quite a blur for her as their friendship went on one heck of a rollercoaster ride.
They stopped talking due to her uncertainties and insecurities.

Her favourite part began to play in her mind. A mutual friend of theirs was getting married and they were both part of the bridal party. It had been so awkward considering the fact that the last time they’d seen each other, they’d been yelling at each other at the top of their lungs. Now there they were, partners in the bridal party. She remembered the taut smiles. The sad feeling eating away at her heart. Her heart lifted as she remembered how he came outside and found her whilst she had a little cry. The bride and groom had already left and the bridal party was free to do as they please. She’d become overwhelmed at the thought of “what could be” she had to leave. She remembered feeling someone grab her arm and pull her close to them. She’d already recognized his cologne. She tried to protest but he refused.

“I let you go once,” he’d said. “I refuse to let you go again. I love you – baggage and all. All I ask is that you see through your haze and realize that you deserve to be loved.”

She smiled as she remembered how it felt for the blur of confusion to leave her sight. She remembered looking up at him.

“I see you clearly now,” she’d said. “I see us clearly now.” Her thoughts were interrupted by the harried wedding planner barging through the door. “It’s time!” she said, gasping for breath. She took a deep breath and rose from her seat. It was time.

Walking down the aisle, the priest’s words, the congregation around her were all a blur. All she could see was the love of her life in front of her. It was time for the vows. She smiled up at him as she prepared to say her vows.

“Finally, we are here.
Expressing our great love we share.
Finally, all can see
The amazing future that is you and me. Finally, we are here, my love
Where all can see that this was made by God above.
Time has had its challenges.
Time has had its pain.
But though we’ve fallen a couple of times, we’ve risen time and time again.
I promise to love you through it all.
Through every problem, every celebration – big and small.
Finally, my love, we are here.
Through all of the blurs of my life, my eyes are clear.
Finally, I can see you crystal clear.
I see you clearly.
I love you dearly.
I see us, baby.
You and I is all I see.”

If you love them, hold on to them. If you know that they are worth it then hold on. Love cannot survive without faith and effort. Forget what the world will say. If you know that he/she is the one..then keep them!!!

Title from 3rd line of Rolling in The Deep – Adele

Victory: A Dedication to All The Survivors

Beat down. Beat up.
You rose from the pain.
Torn down. Ripped apart.
They beat your body. But you still have
Your heart.

Words like knives cut through your
Their laughter kept you down.
Smile, dear.
You’re standing tall. Let them see your Crown.

Gagged by oppression.
Bound by their deceit.
They locked you in with their misery.
They took joy in yours.
Look at you now, fighter. Six feet high
And flying through those doors.

They tried to make you lose.
They celebrated your demise.
Oh how they ran when you broke free
And began to rise.

Smile, you survivor.
Laugh. You’re stronger now.
The worst is over. Your battle’s won.
Don’t you ever let someone take your
You’re too loaded to fail.

Smile, you survivor.
Raise your hands up high.
Victory is yours forever.
Don’t you ever let anyone
Tell you

To every single one of you who has been subject any kind of oppression…smile. You are strong. You are beautiful. You are a survivor. Victory will always be yours.

If you have a story of victory you’d like to share please send it to chipobiti@gmail.com or catch me on Facebook: Chipo Faith Biti.

I’d love to read your stories and maybe share them too.


Her Funny Man || Short Fiction

She sat at the coffee table. She watched her hand stir her coffee on…and on…and on….

She was pretty sure that she’d dissolved every single sugar particle but she kept stirring. She wasn’t even in the mood for coffee. She’d needed to leave the house and well…the cafe down the road seemed the best place to escape to. She had, after all, spent the last five months in her house. The joys of being a writer, she smiled bitterly. No one forced her to leave her house. Her friends had tried and failed. She couldn’t face them. Not yet. She was still stinging from that day…

“Woah there, pretty lady! You’re about to stir that coffee off of the table!”

She snapped out of her thoughts and looked up at the person. She managed to stifle a gasp. A fine looking man was standing in front of her, a heart-warming smile on his fa. She gulped.

“Sorry,” she spoke quietly.

“Mind if I sit down?” He asked. She wanted to say no but was surprised to find herself nodding. What are you doing?   she asked herself. He sat down and smiled at her. She suddenly felt self-conscious of her attire – a plain summer dress that was in serious need of bright colours.

“Who was he and what did he do?” He asked all of a sudden . Her eyes widened. He smirked.

“I have five sisters,” he explained. “I know the drill.”

She shifted in her seat uncomfortably.

“Besides, I was their personal punching bag,” he pulled a face. She giggled. The laugh sounded so foreign to her.

“You have such a beautiful smile,” he complimented her. “One wouldn’t guess that you’re a serial killer.”

“A serial killer?” She asked, stunned.

Cereal. You know, Cheerios, Froot Loops? I saw the way you were stirring that coffee. Lord knows what you can do to poor innocent bits of honey-coated grains!”

She giggled again.

“You’re crazy!” She couldn’t stop laughing.

“And you’re too beautiful to be sad!” He countered. She calmed down and looked at the good-looking man with the chocolate brown eyes.

“My fiancè left me at the altar five months ago,” she sniffed. “Cold feet of note.”

She sighed with relief. It was the first time she’d  mentioned the drama without bursting into tears. She looked at the table. She felt his hand tilt her chin up.

“Please go out with me,” he spoke quietly.

“You don’t know me,” she replied, stunned.

“So I’ll get to know you,” he replied.

“I-I’m not ready to date,” she stuttered.

“I-I don’t talk to cereal killing women but here I am talking to you,” he smirked. She smiled.

“But I don’t even know you,” she tried to enforce that with conviction but it wasn’t there.

He put his hand on hers.

“I’m Tim,” he replied. “And I want to make you smile. I want to make you laugh. I want to make you believe that you do deserve to be happy.”

She didn’t know what to say.

“Think of me as your personal funny man,” he flashed a cheesy grin. She chuckled. She was amazed. She hadn’t smiled let alone laughed in months yet this random guy had managed to make her laugh at least four times in the space of fifteen minutes.

She smiled.

“I’m Anna,” she replied. “Friday at 8. That’s when I’ll be free.”


Friendship|| He Saw The Flower|| A Dedication

A dedication to a friend who had every right to discard me and move along with life…but chose to help and support me because they saw the good that others refused to see. 


The wrinkled petals. The faded colour.

He saw it as a flower.

The diminished scent. The fragile state.

He put it in his hand and still called it great.

It lacked a stem. It belonged to no bouquet.

He knew that and still said “okay”.

The world had deemed it useless. The world’s standards said,

“It has no beauty.”

He smiled and replied,

“To you. Not me.”

They called him a fool, they even laughed.

They saw nothingness where he saw something worth

Picking up the broken rose.

The rose felt the warmth. The rose absorbed the hope.

Faded became bright. Fragile turned into firm.

The petals conjoined and became greater than what they once were.

The beautiful scent returned in full force as it gained more power.

This rose, once again, was a fully-grown flower.

They didn’t know what to say. All were at a loss for words.

He smiled.

He’d ignored their “Don’t. Won’t. Can’t.” and gave the rose

A risky chance.

A chance never forgotten. A chance the rose never released.

A chance the rose cherished so much it vowed to be

As radiant and fulfilling as can be.





Light Up


If a restaurant were to name something after you, what would it be? Describe it. (Bonus points if you give us a recipe!)

Photographers, artists, poets: show us DINNER.


“There she is!”

Whispers emanated from the small group of waitrons. She was totally unaware of this as she walked past them and smiled. They greeted her with enthusiastic waves and heart-warming smiles. Theresa, the newbie of the group, looked at her peers.

“What’s all the fuss about?” she asked, failing to understand the significance of this woman’s arrival. She clearly wasn’t just another patron, she’d figured. Her colleagues were far too excited about her. Most of the members of the group looked at her, surprised.

“That’s Megan Light,” Wanda, her mentor, informed her. “She’s a special part of this restaurant.”

“Why?” Theresa asked. She’d only been on the job for a couple of days. Stacey, a quirky blonde, pointed at a table in the corner.

“That’s where he proposed to her,” Stacey explained. “He had the ring come on a silver platter. It came as a ‘special dessert’. It was beautiful. She cried. He cried. She said yes. They received a standing ovation. They deserved it. It was just so beautiful.”

All the fuss because of the proposal? Theresa wondered. This restaurant was weirder than she’d thought.

“I’m guessing it’s their anniversary?” Theresa said. She tried her level best not to sound cynical. Wanda shook her head gravely. Melissa, a beautiful African girl, pointed at a table on the other side of the restaurant. It was a dimly lit area – reserved for intimate occasions –on the patron’s request, of course.

“He broke of the engagement there,” she spoke quietly. “We could feel the ominous vibes from the moment he walked in to meet with her. It was nothing dramatic. She cried quietly. They shared a sad farewell kiss and she left first. Before we could award him with “Loser of the Year”, we saw him cry as he watched her leave. We knew that there was more to his decision than he’d let on.”

Theresa felt her heart tighten. She didn’t like where the story was going. She could feel something painful coming along.

“What happened after that?” Theresa asked quietly. Her colleagues’ faces clouded over with sadness as they recalled the next event.

“They held his memorial dinner here,” Wanda spoke simply. Theresa’s eyes widened.


“Brain cancer,” Stacey wiped a tear away. “He passed on a couple of weeks after he broke off the engagement.”

Theresa felt emotion swell in her heart. She found it strange. She didn’t even know these people but there she was, feeling sorry for a woman she’d never met let alone spoken to ever. It puzzled her. She saw the understanding look on Melissa’s face.

“We felt the same way,” she replied. “We barely knew this couple but it honestly felt like we’d been part of their story. Her speech at the memorial dinner was beautiful. Loving.”

“When did it happen?” Theresa asked.

“Two years ago,” Wanda explained. “She comes here every week and sits at the table where he proposed to her. I asked her about that once.”

“What did she say?” Theresa asked, desperate to hear the answer.

“At first, she needed to be close to him,” Wanda said. “His proposal was the clearest memory she had of him at the time. As time went by, her answer changed. She said that this place had become a place of refuge for her. It still is. When she’s under pressure, she comes here. If she’s stuck, she comes here. When she’s going through something – good or bad – she’s here. She’s become a part of this place.”

Theresa nodded quietly.

“It’s her birthday today,” Melissa said.

“So we – everyone here – have done something for her,” Stacey was back to bouncing with excitement.

“What?” Theresa asked.

Suddenly, the lights went dim. Theresa found herself being shuffled to the kitchen entrance. She was confused. What was going on? Suddenly, the staff began to sing “Happy Birthday”. The chef held a giant cake as they walked towards Megan’s table. Tears were streaming down her glowing face. Theresa felt a lump in her throat.

Wanda stepped forward as the singing ended.

“We’ve decided to name a special dish in your honour,” Wanda smiled. One of the assistant chefs rushed forward and lifted the lid off of a plate. “The ‘Light Up’ Special Dessert.”

Megan’s eyes widened as she admired the apple crumble, covered in a layer of specially whipped cream and adorned with a number of glistening silver balls. With a flick of a lighter, two protruding chocolate-like sticks began to sparkle. The crowd watched in awe.

Megan was speechless as she looked at the wonderful staff. Theresa felt a couple of tears fall down her cheek. She didn’t care.

“Your fiancé, James, mentioned how you lit up his world,” Stacey gushed. “He said it as he left the restaurant the day you two er um –

“It’s okay to say that we broke up,” Megan smiled sadly. She had such a gentle voice, Theresa wondered.

“Well yes,” Stacey continued. “Your presence here has always lit us up too. And since it fits with your surname perfectly, we’ve decided to name this special dessert in your honour.”

Megan waited for the applause to die down before she began to speak.

“I think this dessert should be named in your honour just as much as it’s been named in mine,” she explained. “You have all served as bright, reassuring lights in my world. In my darkest times, I’d find peace here. Your wonderful smiles and beautiful personalities gave me hope when I’d lost all of mine. God bless you all.”

Theresa wasn’t surprised to find that she and Megan weren’t the only ones crying. She smiled through her tears.

She’d definitely been employed at the right place. How could she go wrong with all of these bright, shining lights around her?

It could never happen.

When you rise in the morning, give thanks for the light, for your life, for your strength. Give thanks for your food and for the joy of living. If you see no reason to give thanks, the fault lies in yourself.



Human Connections – Life and All Its Wonders


One man’s friend is another man’s lover the same way

One woman’s one night stand is her new receptionist’s brother.

Fibre glass cables flow through the world and connect

Man, woman, boy and girl

In ways we never really thought possible, did we?

The enemy of today could be an in-law of tomorrow.

That person’s neighbour could be our new source of sorrow because

They decided to borrow your sister for a lifetime of holy matrimony.

Life is short but relations are many.

Time goes by fast, but isn’t it scary how it takes a second to form a human bond

That could last an eternity?

To say a word that may join you and that being til death do you part?

In a flash of a second, connections break forth and join hearts of all people,

Some people, or just a few.

This very post just connected me with you.

You being a somebody who could be on the other side of the world, yet

There you are reading these ramblings of a young adult –

Who sometimes calls herself a girl.

Time flies by. Friendships grow stronger.

People grow weaker.

Relationships build as others break.

A new person comes, taking the place of

The one that walked away.

One leaves whilst another may return.

Bridges come up whilst others burn.

Words are said. Laughs shared.

Tears shed.

Connections all around us.

Connections everywhere we go.

Some broken by a simple “Goodbye”.

Others joined by a wonderful