Chapters of Womanhood by Beulah kleinveldt

Women telling their stories of struggle, faith and victory.

A PRODUCT OF THE SEED PERSONAL DEVELOPMENT COURSE

D E S K

B O O K S

WELLNESS FOUNDATION growing potential,serving people

contents 01

About the course

When cancer kills by Vanessa Knipe

Uncle loved me b y R u t h N o k o

The joy life ripped from me b y S e r a h K o o p m a n

Pride cometh before a fall b y J a m b i y a K a i

contents 06

Lost in a large family b y W i l h e l m i n a

Reverend pastor b y R i l e y 1 1

From pillar to post to victory by Lucinda Malan

Living with pain b y E s t h e r

A short story about a long stony road b y M i s s N u b i a

contents 11 12 13

Sudden death leaves us with no goodbyes b y B e u l a h K l e i n v e l d t

About the course facilitator

Credits

DESK

BOOKS

WELLNESS FOUNDATION

INTRODUCTION The Desk & Books Wellness Foundation embarked upon a 20 hour personal development course called SEED. Its aim is to help young people and adults release stress and negative emotions, as well as to explore untapped potential through soft skills development,arts activities,role playing, and writing/journaling. This emotive collection is SEEDS debut literary product. It will cost just R30 to purchase this ebook and thereby support our future projects. Contact deskandbooks@gmail.com for your copy.

QUOTE No matter what, as long as we nurture the burn of hope and faith we will live well. May you know God's love in your struggle and victory.

HI! MY NAME IS VANESSA. I am a 53 year old married woman with two adult children and grandmother to one and a half year old Lily. I've worked in retail management for many years & have a passion for events planning & decor. I have experienced extreme loss in my life including the loss of my father at a young age but I have also experienced the joys of life and God's grace upon my life.

VANESSA KNIPE | WHEN CANCER KILLS

WHEN CANCER KILLS

My story started on 20th April 2020 – the epitome of a blue Monday. This was the first day I found the courage to speak of my pain. I was present when my friend was diagnosed and continued to walk with her every step of the way until this elusive monster overwhelmed her on the 8 February 2020. She was like a sister to me and her absence in my space went deeper that I could have imagined. I persistently asked God to heal me from my pained and broken heart. It’s been three years and still daily I suffer loneliness despite having family who love me and rally around to support me at every turn. I miss the intimacy of a “special” friend and confidante. Emotions I struggled until now to put into words. The sense of loss had a remarkably effect upon my mental, emotional and physical health. In my distress I ran from general practitioners to a psychiatrist and this continued until our medical funds were depleted. Family assisted where they could but everything including my health and family relationships seemed out of control and were falling apart before my eyes. I seemed incapable of returning to the happy person I used to be. I was beset with one health issue after another. Anniversary and birthday celebrations had to be cancelled because I was always “unwell”. I felt that I was failing as a mother and wife. I kept asking, “Lord why is all happening to me. Could the death of a friend be affecting me so much that I am destroying my family construct”? My family really needed me, but I could not be there for them because I was in such a dark and ugly space. Is this the price of grief? I desperately needed and perhaps still need answers. After realising that clinical and spiritual help can work together I opened my heart to God and prayed in ways I have never before. I asked God to cuddle me in his loving arms and carry my family through the storm my grief and journey of mourning had raised. I sensed divine comfort that I knew could only come from God. I felt encouraged and more courageous and realised that no matter how dark or lonely the days may seem that God was there to carry me through it. Grief had affected my mental health and dipped me in a pit of despair I never thought I would emerge from. After knowing the comfort of Gods arms I would encourage anyone suffering the loss of intimate friendship to yield their pain to God and he will give his divine peace and comfort.

V A N E S S A

K N I P E

WHEN CANCER KILLS

God will never fail or leave us. His presence keeps me leaning on his loving arms and I know you too can encounter this love. He understands our grief. He can even bless us with new and different type friendships. No matter how much you hurt or are suffering remember that life will keep moving on. You therefore owe it to yourself to heal so that you can live in your fullest potential. If you do not, the darkness will continue and you will have robbed yourself of ever finding the light that brings life. I attempt to approach each day with a positive mind-set because I know that death and life happens and that I have no control over either. Neither can I change the past. The greatest gift I can give myself is to live celebrating the memory and moments of my dearest friend. If anything, I know she would have wanted this. Thank God, this life is not the only one we have. We will see our departed loved ones again…………someday.

V A N E S S A

K N I P E

Ruth Noko Uncle Loved Me

UNCLE LOVED ME

I was born and bred in Engcobo, a small town in the Eastern Cape. We were very close to my mother’s family. They loved us very much. My UNCLE who worked in De Hoek in Cape Town, would return home in the December holiday. I must have been his favourite niece because I always received more gifts than my siblings. The gifts kept coming and I thought he loved me. He even bought me clothes as my parents were unemployed at the time. Christmas did not concern us too much because we knew that our UNCLE would look after us. UNCLE always visited. Peer bullying and rejection turned me into a shy child and having someone to love me meant everything and UNCLE loved me. I was very young, vibrant and full of life. He groomed me well and unbeknownst to me he prepared intimate and familiar spaces for us to be alone. One day he wanted me to play with his genitals and he eventually placed his penis between my legs. I didn’t understand but he was my UNCLE and he loved me. I was his favourite niece – groomed never to be disrespectful and saying no was disrespectful. He gave me money, chips, chocolates and told me to keep quiet. “It’s our little secret”- I never thought that what he had done and continued to do was wrong. He was my UNCLE and he loved me. My innocence could never consider just how traumatic or harmful his “love” was and would be. I was to discover this many years later. We relocated and I never saw him again. In the years that followed I often read real life stories and heard people talking about rape and describing their experiences. I only realized then that UNCLES love was rape. UNCLE had raped me. I kept that secret until I married because I knew my mom would never believe me. When both my daughters were raped I knew the origin and I regretted not speaking up before. I felt guilty and thought that if I told of my rape I could have saved them from the same pain and shame I suffered. I kept “our little secret” until he died. I am still left with great regret. Through counselling I learnt that it is very important to speak up and find our freedom so that we can continue with living a full life. R U T H

N O K O

UNCLE LOVED ME

Maybe this story allows me a voice I have never had before; the freedom to speak openly without judgement. The warning to keep “little secrets” is abusive, not love. Having the right to say NO to sexual advances or manipulation is the love we show for our own lives and bodies. It is important that every girl-child is taught this. I wish I felt secure in my mother’s love that she would have believed me.

R U T H

N O K O

HI! MY NAME IS WENDY. I am a South African woman who loves history, music, people and reading. I share my personal stories in the hope that it would bring healing to the broken and encourage a spirit of forgiveness. I have zero tolerance for arrogance, unkindness to the elderly, and gender based violence. I hold a senior qualification in Hair care and Cosmetology. I use this passion to beautify women whilst encouraging acceptance of the authentic self.

QUOTE When we think it is all said and done, the light comes, beauty shines.

SERAH KOOPMAN | THE JOY LIFE RIPPED FROM ME

THE JOY LIFE RIPPED FROM ME

To you my unborn child The One I long for The one I think about My heart! I am so unforgiven The knob just sat there in her throat. Bile made her nose and eyes burn. She glanced at him, lost in her own world. She wanted the nausea to stop. She wanted to run. To run from all that would consume her. She shivered in anticipation of what was to come - to happen she felt helpless in her rage, her despair, her anger, her complete and utter sadness. She wanted to change her mind but they were here now, waiting for her name to be called in this cold lifeless place that drains life from the cocoon where women nurture life. She placed her hands over her womb, uttering crazy goodbyes to what was growing inside her. She was filled with a sense of false bravado and did not want to appear weak to him. The one she loved with all of her being. She wanted to be as he knew her; a girl who was like one of the boys who drank whiskey neat and smoked cigars. She sat there trying to make sense of it all inside her head and worked through the reasons that brought her to this cold lifeless place. She did not want to be a mother with another child born out of wedlock - a third child. She could hear the whispers - the voices of her mother; her sisters – his family and friends. Their words would inflict deep wounds. How was she to cope? He was her person - her soul mate, lover, friend and confidante, and she love him since before time. He took up all her space. He knew how to love and hurt her. He wanted other women too he said. He wanted to be free. To enjoy life and opportunities. She spoke to her nurturing space. “Your dad might leave and I have no idea whether I am ready to be a single mom. Oh my precious child I thought you would link him to my forever, to eternity and beyond. I want to hold on to you. I want to be your mommy but I feel worthless. You may suffer growing up without a father and I don’t think I would be a good mother to you.” Her name being called broke the moment. “Serah Koopman, please come this way”. She hoped it would be over quickly lest she be killed by lightning or be consumed by her emotions. It was over – scream after scream shook her being as deep sorrow welled up inside her. “My dearest baby, your life is now crumpled inside a bag”.

S E R A H

K O O P M A N

THE JOY LIFE RIPPED FROM ME

She wept as she had never wept before. So agonising was her sorrow she imagined that she heard the man she loved – her baby’s father soothe her pain and fears but she was too far down that dark road to hell to know what was real or imagined. Between sleep and wakefulness he arrived to take her home – to his home. Parts of her were left behind – in that bag. She felt as if she was sleepwalking. Like in a dream – talking to him but even talking was painful. “Oh my child, I sacrificed you for him. I feel worthless, empty”. If only she could go back to the start of the day and make different choices. She babbled on. She heard garbled tones but didn’t recognize her own voice. He put her to bed. She slept like the dead. Like their dead baby. He was off to university and finally she was alone - completely alone. “I will never get over you. You haunt my dreams”. These were the conversations she had with her baby in the bag. That’s how she referred to it. Her birthday came and went but there were no celebrations to be had. She returned to work but no real words emerged. There was no escaping what she did. Her soul mate’s life went on as if nothing happened. He was mister smiles. He seemed insane to her. In fact she was sure he must be insane. She felt mean and aggressive. He had put everything aside as if none of it happened. She felt deviously mean when she discovered he had another woman at his house. Another woman he was sleeping with. This is what he wanted. She wanted to kill him. She felt unloved, uncared for - rejected. Used. All she wanted to hear was that he still loved her - loved the baby in the bag. But he didn’t. He loved only himself. She wanted to kill herself. These thoughts escalated as she frantically drove herself home. Depression mounted and resulted in days, weeks and a year in bed, unwashed and in deep mourning. She was mourning for her life; the baby’s life; their life together; her third child. She wanted love but all she had was shame. Her soul mate came and went. Then he never came anymore and his life continued as he willed it. One day merged into another and life blurred on. That’s how life is. It simply keeps moving and we move right along; like the dead walking. When we think we are rotten to the core and mean nothing to anyone. Days when we fall so low and are left to bleed in a ditch alone. Sometimes when we think we will never rise or live again light comes and gives us an unthinkable gift. S E R A H

K O O P M A N

THE JOY LIFE RIPPED FROM ME

I am Serah Koopman. I am the worthless mother who could not overcome aborting my baby. That is how I saw myself. I was so young then. I was so in-love and stupid. I am fifty-seven years-old now and finally after many years, I am able to sit before my mirror and write my baby a letter. Not like the crazy babbling I did over the years but a real note. Like a mother’s love letter to her son. “My dear baby, I remember you on the 21st of every month. You should have been born in April or May sometime…..I think. I remember you at every autumn when the trees lose their leaves and carpet the ground with deep reds and orange. I ran from God. I thought that he no longer loved me after all I had done. I felt such shame and lost myself. I became like a gypsy. Like a nomad running from place to place. I drove everyone away from me. I was lost and in deep despair. I plummeted into a dark well of depression. On the outside I looked normal, carried on with work and lived like “Sex in the City” but at night, I cried out to God to save me. How could he save me, a wretch like me, a downcast soul, a horrid person, a ragdoll being pushed around by the storm! One day I stepped into a church and my life changed. Not overnight though. It was quite a journey. I kept going and listened to the words of hope. I wrestled with God and was not able to shake off the guilt and sorrow from my soul but I am finally restored and healed. I stand as the redeemed. I have joy now and I’m filled with hope. Some days are hard but then I lean on the gift of redemption and grace. You will always be my third child. I know you have forgiven me. I feel your soul move within me. Your love clutches at my heart. You will always be my baby - not in a bag but in my heart, forever. To you my unborn child The One I long for The one I think about My heart! I am no longer unforgiven but forgiven. I am restored. Now we are free”.

S E R A H

K O O P M A N

QUOTE We are so focused on the dark that the beauty right before our eyes goes unnoticed and the opportunities pass us by.

Jambiya Kai Pride Cometh Before a Fall

PRIDE COMETH BEFORE A FALL

Life greets us with many twists and turns; always presenting something ahead like a fork in the road where procrastination kills dreams and visions die a lonely death. But the sun rises again, as it always does and a new dawn soaks the soul like paint upon a starved canvas; as art washes from the soul life's debris. Smiling stars rolfing the gloomy atmosphere and psychic tension with insight and words of wisdom. If one is yielded to live life well and to pummel swelling pride and trample arrogance underfoot then hope will dance like a busty starlet across a bruised sky; confident in beauty. When pride is denied, dead dreams will live again and the sight to vision will be restored.

J A M B I Y A

K A I

HI! MY NAME IS WILHELMINA. I am South African. Born and bred in the city of Cape Town. My hobbies are running, hiking, singing, sewing, crochet and reading. I love God and my family - I also love meeting new people and despise injustice. The more I express and serve through my gift and skills, the more I discover what lies within me.

WILHELMINA | LOST IN A LARGE FAMILY

LOST IN A LARGE FAMILY

I grew up with eight brothers and sisters. I always felt lost. Fumbling through my childhood as if I did not fit in; did not know where or how I fitted in – a girl without an identity. My mother was very strict. A huge family and a controlling mother stripped my voice. I had no rights and no opinion. Even if I did have thoughts or an idea I felt that it wouldn’t have mattered. I was caged - emotionally caged. I of course would not have been able to put such words to what I felt then. Even if I could I would never have dreamed to say it out loud. Through different experiences and scenarios I had an encounter with God when I was a mere nine years old and my love for him gave meaning to my existence and I was finally content. In this happy space I found a love for singing. I always wanted to get married and have a family but this part of my life did not work out the way I planned or dreamed. I did get married but after six years I found myself divorced without children. It was only after my divorce that I realised the many issues I had to work through. I took a good look at my past and started to see myself the way God sees me. The scriptures taught me that I was fearfully and wonderfully made and that God knew me before I was in my mother’s womb. I embraced this for my life, photographing people and to see them evolve into looking their best. I also thrive on working together with women who empower women. I live to reach out and help others fulfil their potential as I am being enabled to fulfil mine through my life in God and those he sends into my life. When you feel lost and seeking and fumbling as if without an identity remember, that God sees you and is deeply connected to every part of your life. He loves you.

W I L H E L M I N A

RILEY 11 | REVEREND PASTOR

Riley 11 Reverend Pastor

REVEREND PASTOR

What does one call you? You stand there and lie about so many things, pretending honorable intentions. I curse the day I was sent to tell you about my life. You opened a door. I was broken In need of a shoulder You gave yours but wanted and took more. I remember the time, day and place as if mere moments ago Flashes of screams that still run through my head desperate to escape. But then again, escape to where, you almost owned the plac I begged you to stop, "You're hurting me"! "I'm almost done you said," just one more push". You lifted yourself up and looked at m "Open your eyes, It's over". You smiled like a Cheshire ca Filled with a sumptuous meal. And I died inside knowing that the meal was me. "Fix your hair, here's your clothes, hurry we gotta go". Fuck you! , I thought Fucked up Reverend or pastor Whatever the fuck you were. But I didn't dare say a word.

R I L E Y

1 1

REVEREND PASTOR

I came home acting all fine, Joking with my mother When only wanting to jump into her arms, To cry and tell her how stupid I'd been How ashamed I am. I was fifteen then. Two years later I am writing this for that wounded someone who may need it someday, Don't be afraid to voice up! Stand up! Write for others as I have done here for you. For that reverend or pastor Or whatever the fuck he is, for him to know his day will come when my soul fractures less And I have courage to point and say, "that’s him".

R I L E Y

1 1

QUOTE Even in that darkest valley we can rise up, move on and keep walking forward. Sow your stories and see your life bloom.

LUCINDA MALAN | FROM PILLAR TO POST TO VICTORY

Lucinda Malan From Pillar to Post to Victory

FROM PILLAR TO POST TO VICTORY

I am a single mother of two boys and six years ago my life changed when I became homeless because my landlord at the time sold his property. My boys and I then moved with all our furniture into a broken-down house which had no toilet. I came home one afternoon after work and all my belongings were on the street. I had no idea what to do or where to go. I placed my furniture in storage and moved into a small bedroom which we shared with another woman. We suffered many problems including her hitting my son. After that, I moved into my uncle’s house and slept on the bottom of a double bunk bed. We were told that we couldn’t stay too long. Once again we moved and this time it was into an apartment in the suburb of Retreat in the city of Cape Town. The owner allowed us to stay a few months after which we moved to Mitchells Plain in Cape Town for a few months. If you feel irritated or frustrated by my telling you about where I moved and outlining every move, then what you are feeling is a fraction of what my sons and I felt doing each move. I am detailing every stop to try and give you a moment to walk in my shoes. Moving constantly creates instability and is one of the most traumatic experiences. While in Mitchells Plain, I had to get up each morning at 5h00 in order to be in Southfield by 8h00. This caused some depression because my mind and body could no longer handle the erratic shifts. I was forced to move in with my sister for a month and share a bedroom. During that time, I lost my job and moved into a tiny room with the boys in another area for 3 months. In all this time I kept trusting God and kept looking forward to improving my life and suddenly my situation started lifting. I found a job as Park Manager at Inospace in Cape Town and moved into a one-bedroom separate entrance with my boys – I am always with my boys. We stayed for almost five years and yesterday on 1 August 2023 I moved into a two-bedroom spacious house with my brother and my precious sons. I still hold the Park Manager’s position. Everything I have achieved thus far has been because of God watching over me and my family and I believe God continues to keep us. I have learnt to never rely on people, and that God will place the right people in your path. Trust Him every step of your way no matter how tough or impossible your circumstances may seem or be. He will work out everything for your good.

L U C I N D A

M A L A N

HI! MY NAME IS ESTHER. I am South African. Born and bred in the city of Cape Town. My hobbies are running, hiking, singing, sewing, crochet and reading. I love God and my family - I also love meeting new people and despise injustice. From reading my story you would have gathered that I have a physical disability. Although challenging at times it does not stop me from doing whatever good my hands find to do. This gives me a sense of purpose.

Esther Living With Pain

LIVING WITH PAIN

I had quite a normal early childhood until I fell ill at 6 years of age. I was diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis. My childhood changed after my diagnosis. It presented me with constant pain and numerous operations. I was incapacitated from achieving my childhood aspirations. My happiness was limited and I had to endure the cruelty and teasing of other children. I learnt to be manipulative too and sometimes used what at this stage had become a permanent disability, to get what I wanted. Sometimes it worked and sometimes it didn’t. I became accustomed to living with swollen and inflamed joints and living with excruciating pain was no easy feat for any child. Rheumatoid arthritis leads to physical deformity. It affects your appearance and severely impact ones entire existence. Getting through a day has always been a daunting task. I constantly had to deal with interim operations while trying to lead a normal life. I constantly had to battle emotional, physical and spiritual obstacles. A donor saw my hardship and awarded me the opportunity to study and work. It served me well but currently my situation has changed as I face unemployment, but I'm still standing. I have a few amazing friends who enrich my life and I have experienced some exciting moments. I am determined to live my life to the full despite my troubles. At some point in my life I realised that GOD has been walking this road with me from the beginning, carried me and that he is still fighting my battles. I'm eternally grateful to God for keeping me. Strength is a blessing and If my getting through each day with joy helps someone else like me to do the same then I am richer in living a life that mattered. I still wish the pain would simply go away. This type of life not only needs determination to carry on but also the support of others in our circle. At some level or another all of us suffer disability. It may not be physical but challenges and pain are a part of this journey called life. Support is what gets us through. A positive mindset is the driving force to conquering our difficulties and tackling life successfully. .

E S T H E R

LIVING WITH PAIN

I have no idea how much longer my body may endure this journey of pain and anguish but I can surely tell you that I know I have someone walking it with me. God is my refuge and my very present help in times of trouble. You may not believe in or considered the scriptures but they have kept me in a firm place and I believe that God holds my every day.

He can hold yours too; if you let him.

E S T H E R

Miss Nubia A Short Story About a Long Stony Road

A SHORT STORY ABOUT A LONG STONY ROAD

My feet happily wobbled under the shape of stones but I plunged on. I was homeward bound. I chose the shortcut across the overgrown field because I didn’t want to waste too much time in getting home. I was excited to tell my mom about my mathematics results. I whistled as I hopped along. My happiness was suddenly interrupted when arms grabbed and pulled me along the path – my shoes scraped on the ground and I felt myself lose one. In shock my voice silently screamed and shrieked but no sound came. Within minutes I found myself in a dark, smoke-filled room. Fear seeped into my veins and my heart pounded so loudly that I thought it was audible. My legs shook and I scream but a pillow was used to silence my voice. My voice! The one weapon I thought I had. Now it was being taken. The pain between my legs was so intense that my body numbed. I couldn't understand what was happening to me. I was 15 years old and excited about feeling the stones beneath my feet, now it felt as if stones were being shoved into my body. After minutes I felt absolutely nothing while a second man came onto the scene and continued to violate what God has intended for sacred joy. I was left bruised and wounded. I walked away in total shock; a zombie without direction. That same day I cried for hours after the incident and never cried again. Rape is worse than death. While death is the end, rape leaves scars that never fade They thought they had silenced my voice, but they were wrong. Wounds may heal but scars remain visible as a reminder that the stones you walked on can take you to a destination in which you become someone else's light in a dark space. I've learned to use my voice and my scars as tools to bring hope to a young girl's world that may be falling apart.

M I S S

N U B I A

QUOTE I wish I could define life in its truest form.

BEULAH KLEINVELDT | SUDDEN DEATH LEAVES US WITH NO GOODBYES

Beulah Kleinveldt Sudden Death Leaves Us With No Goodbyes

SUDDEN DEATH LEAVES US WITH NO GOODBYES

26 Years ago. 14h00 Down the years I’ve lost track of time. I watched my dad take his last breath on 31 July 1997 when the winter sun was at its highest. I saw him pass from this world to another - gasping for breath. I saw it in his eyes: the suddenness - the shock – the dreaded black shroud of knowing. Holding him in my arms, he died. Sudden death leaves us with no goodbyes. No last words. It is as final as the end of a day - the closing of a chapter – the end of a story. Not a fable or fictitious tale but a script that cannot be altered; where the playwright cannot return to format an unwanted character. This was real life. For those who leave this world it is as the turning from a black night towards a striking sunrise. But for us who remain there is no closure. I heard a holocaust survivor express that closure is a word used for those who have not experienced tragedy. That somehow seemed true for me. Loss of life is like gall stone pain. It has you writhing in pain and at times it sits inside your body like a heavy unending throb rendering you numb. We are slain in hopeless surrender to senseless pain. Death renders one’s heart as an empty casing where blood once pumped to the rhythm of a drum – the belting of soul. We succumb to the beauty of memory – conversations that were had and words of wisdom spoken when we needed it most. Memory keeps us moving; remembering; walking. Every girl needs her father. Even now in my older years I would have loved to have a conversation with my father about my life; the now - the choices and indecision - the happy. He would have loved to hear about my happiness. He would have loved to hear about my peace. B E U L A H

K L E I N V E L D T

SUDDEN DEATH LEAVES US WITH NO GOODBYES

My dad and I have always had profound conversations. One hand eating lamb bits from my cooking pot and the other gesturing in storyteller’s mode. He had a talent for relating stories. We never stop needing our father. We simply surrender to what we cannot control – their absence. The need remains. Through the years the intense ache has wilted somewhat but when I allow myself enough room to remember him - to reminisce - to think deeply of my loss, it hurts afresh. The only difference now is that as I ponder on the great moments and laughter we shared my tears fall through smiles. It flows through smiles that eventually turn to laughter as I relive his wit; his incredible humour. We do heal; slowly perhaps but we do heal from the terrible paralyzing ache of loss. Every woman needs her father. Today I have this overwhelming need to whisper my heart into the atmosphere, “I miss you daddy”. I imagine him grabbing my words and placing it over his heart. My heart beats again and heals a bit more. 26 years later.

B E U L A H

K L E I N V E L D T

ABOUT Course Facilitator

I am a published writer, author and arts and culture practitioner whose passion and experience spans almost 40 years in holistic training and development of people - particularly youth at risk and women. I’m also a fervent abstract art hobbyist. I love the freedom of expression that exists in splashes of colour and contours. I Love laughing. The kind of laughter that makes my belly jiggle and ache at the same time.. I’m a hopeless romantic and totally in love with love. I am always humbled when I see someone’s eyes light up because I tried my utmost to help them see their own unlimited potential - there’s nothing more powerful than that. I adore my children and grandchildren. My handsome fiancé is not only the Desk and Books Wellness Foundation Co-founder and partner but also my laughing buddy and beautiful soft place. Gratitude puts a smile on my face even in my darkest moments. It is my greatest aspiration. My faith and relationship with God is the most incredible life changing journey I am on. I am forever grateful that he chose me.

Thank You The creation of this book would not have been possible without the collaborative efforts of several people and organizations. Thank you to the courageous women who participated in this course and dedicated themselves to each step of the programme. A special thank you to our partners Kaapse Potlak Restaurant; Covenant Life Church; Studio 86 Dance Studio and the National Writers Association of South Africa (NWASA), who made generous contributions to this project. We would like to mention the following editors from NWASA who assisted in editing our manuscripts: Ann Tarusenga, Connie Frick, and Suzette Mafuna. Another special mention to Lolo Ntshiqa, the NWASA Social Media Content Strategist, who designed this book. Last, but certainly not least, we would like to extend our gratitude to the SEED Course Facilitator and content writer, Beulah Kleinveldt, who has been a coach, mentor, and sister to the women in the course. She has also generously agreed to share her artwork and quotes in this book.

Love

D E S K A N D B O O K S W E L L N E S S F O U N D A T I O N CAPE TOWN, SOUTH AFRICA

The SEED personal development course was birthed from a passion to mentor and influence the lives and mindset of individuals who battle disillusionment and lack of trust in themselves and systems. Those who seek to be valuable contributors to society but lack resources and platforms. The principles of reflection and expression as a pathway to emotional freedom and purpose became a primary element of the SEED course. Our first candidates were a group of women who needed assistance in navigating relationship challenges; overcoming emotional and psychological barriers to personal growth and believing again. Despite their vulnerabilities and painful histories they embraced the teachings in journaling. Their writings herein now serve as an indication of how experiences certainly can deter our personal growth yet when expressed will take us to a place of great freedom and insight. These journal entries gave birth to this stunning collection called Chapters of Womanhood. The Desk and Books Wellness Foundation now offers a woman’s lifestyle programme by the same name. If you would like to support this project please contact deskandbooks@gmail.com

D E S K

B O O K S

WELLNESS FOUNDATION growing potential,serving people

Reviews “Wow…an amazing read!!! It really puts you in the moment because it is so real…how empowering. Salute to the Women who penned their experiences”. Advocate Anthea Michaels “Phenomenal! It had me in tears and also made my heart pound. It is breathtaking”! Carol Mitchell. “I was especially impacted by Serah Koopman who wrote about her abortion and the long lasting effects and consequence. I sat with a few ladies before they made the same decision no matter how hard I tried to convince them differently. Like Serah they have not forgotten their baby”. Marcelle Skippers (ministry to women) Thank God for the gift of redemption.

“The illustrations are beautiful and I enjoyed every story. Uncle Loved Me was a classic”. Wendy Swartz (Cosmetology and hair care)

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