Wander and Weave

Glow Nation: The Zimbabwean Makeup Artists Redefining Beauty You know that moment when you scroll through your feed and pause, not because of drama, but because the beat is beating, the blend is blending, and the brows? They’re preaching perfection!  Today on Wander and Weave, I’m shining a light on some of Zimbabwe’s finest makeup artists,  queens (and kings!) who are literally redefining what creativity looks like with every brushstroke. Some of these amazing women I’ve had the joy of working with, others I’ve admired from afar,  but all of them inspire me endlessly. Their work reminds me that makeup is not just about beauty; it’s about storytelling, confidence, and the art of becoming. So grab your tea (or your makeup brush),  let’s dive into the world of Zim glam! Miss Rosebud, The Queen of Soft Glam and Subtle Power Her brand is Image Fair, but let me tell you, there’s nothing fair about the way she slays a soft glam! Miss Rosebud is a creative powerhouse, a mak...

Kurauone Mwanangu (Grow up and see for yourself) “Kurauone mwanangu,” they said, voice calm, eyes wise, hands busy shelling groundnuts, as if they were not dropping a lifetime prophecy. And me , young, wild, barefoot and full of dreams: I laughed and said, “Ini handityi life, I’m ready!” Ah, youth, so brave, so clueless. Now here I am, grown and groaning, with back pain that started at 21 for no reason, with Wi-Fi bills that come faster than miracles, and dreams that need visas and prayer points. Kurauone, yes, I’ve seen it! I’ve seen the Monday blues in living colour, the kind that even coffee can’t baptize away. I’ve seen salaries vanish like dew at sunrise, and friendships ghost faster than 3G in the rural areas. I’ve attended weddings and funerals in the same month; both requiring outfits and money I don’t have. Kurauone mwanangu indeed. They didn’t tell us about the fatigue; the kind that’s not in your body but your soul, the silent kind that makes you stare at the wall and ask, “...

Small Acts, Big Hearts: The Beauty of Kindness in Unexpected Moments Today, I’m sitting at my desk in the staff room, sipping on my favourite matcha and mint tea, the kind that makes you feel like life is poetic and peaceful for at least five minutes before the printer starts beeping gain  As I take that first sip, I catch myself smiling. Why? Because I just had one of those sudden realisations that sneak up on you in the most ordinary moments: sometimes, what feels small to you might mean everything to someone else. This morning, I walked into the staff room, gave my usual cheerful “Ohayō gozaimasu!”, and started setting up my desk. Then, one of the teachers came up to me with the brightest smile ever. “Please, Ms. Jez, accept my gift,” she said, handing me a little gift bag  Now, my brain is doing somersaults trying to figure out what’s going on, did I win something? Is this another round of ‘guess the snack’? I opened the gift bag and… behold, a packet of flour. Flour! My e...

Pink Ribbons and Silent Cradles: Breaking the Taboos Around Women’s Health October is not just about pumpkin spice lattes and cozy sweaters; it’s also a month painted in pink and remembrance candles. It’s Breast Cancer Awareness Month and Pregnancy & Infant Loss Awareness Month, two causes that carry both tears and strength, silence and resilience. Growing up in Africa, I noticed how certain conversations were whispered, if spoken at all. You’d hear someone say, “Amai so-and-so hasn’t been feeling well,” but no one would dare mention the “C-word.” Or when a young woman disappears for a while and comes back quieter, people start guessing, but nobody really asks. These are the quiet battles many women face, hidden beneath cultural expectations, fear of judgment, lack of education, or simply the dread of clinic bills that could eat up a family’s savings. Let’s be real: in many African communities, talking about breasts is already a cultural boundary-breaker, let alone breast cancer...

Crochet, Classism, and the Courage to Be Proud of Our Beginnings You know, I’ve been thinking a lot lately about this strange thing called  classism , how we sometimes look down on where we came from. The thought had been simmering quietly in my mind until one day, while scrolling through Facebook, I stumbled upon a post by a lady talking about her humble beginnings. She was explaining how her family used to hustle to make ends meet, and yet somehow, people made her feel ashamed of it. That hit home. It reminded me of some conversations I’ve had with acquaintances before,where people subtly (or not so subtly) mocked the days when our mothers and aunts went to South Africa to sell  madhoiri  (doilies, for those who don’t speak  Shona ). Those pretty crochet pieces that decorated sofas, tables, and televisions, the pride of every  Zimbabwean  living room in the ‘90s! I couldn’t help but think: since when did survival and hard work become embarrassing? See, my...

The Homeless Kids Collective Hub (THK): Where Creativity Finds a Home This week on Wander and Weave, we’re diving into a movement that’s shaking up Zimbabwe’s creative scene , and no, it’s not about kidswithout homes (so don’t call social services yet 😅). It’s about The Homeless Kids Collective Hub (THK) , a vibrant movement redefining what it means to be young, creative, and unstoppable in Zimbabwe. At its core, THK is all about creating a home for the homeless dreamer, the one who sketches fashion ideas on the back of a receipt, edits videos on borrowed Wi-Fi, or performs poetry to an audience of two. THK saw these hustling dreamers and said, “Come through, fam , let’s build something real!” When asked what inspired THK, the founders said they drew from Zimbabwe’s most abundant resource , resilient youth. The movement was born out of lived experiences and real struggles, a reflection of the founders’ desire to amplify voices often drowned out by life’s noise. Through fashion and ...