Now that I have introduced you to Mavutu Conversations, it is about time we properly establish who this column is really for. I enjoy writing these articles because I know, somewhere out there, there is a young girl who needs to hear these words. Sometimes she does not know she needs them yet, but she does. 

I write for her. I also write for the millennial woman, the one who is slowly unlearning what she was taught and choosing, boldly, to live differently. 

The biggest conversation on the tip of everyone’s tongue these days is about women who are choosing not to have children at all. Personally, I do not understand why this has become a debate. It always comes down to preference. There are women who have long chosen motherhood and have weighed all the possible reasons why children would add meaning to their lives. 

That choice is valid. Just as valid is the woman who has sat with herself, looked at her dreams, her finances, her mental health, her freedom, and decided that motherhood is not part of her story. 

This column is not here to convince anyone of anything. It is here to say that choice exists, and it is allowed. 

This column exists for the millennial firstborn daughter. The one who carries the invisible weight of responsibility. The one who knows how to cook, clean, reprimand, and sacrifice because she learned to mother others before she was ever allowed to be a child herself. The one who was told, “You are the example,” without being asked if she was ready. The one who knew how to babysit uundenge vaye before she even got her first period. 

I am writing for the woman who grew up fast because she had no choice. The one who learned how to be strong so early that softness now feels like a foreign language. The one who sends money home even when her own pockets are empty. The one who feels guilty for resting, for saying no, for choosing herself. I am writing for the woman who is healing quietly. The one who goes to therapy but still attends family events with a smile. The one who is tired of being called “too much” when all she has ever done is take up the space she was denied. The one who is unlearning survival and learning how to live. 

Mavutu Conversations exist because many of these conversations were never had with us. They were whispered in kitchens, spoken in taxi rides, or laughed off with, “It’s just life.” 

This column is a space where we stop pretending that everything is fine when it is not. A space where we name things properly. A space where we talk about postpartum depre ss i on, chosen childlessness, emotional labour, loneliness, love, and the pressure of being everything to everyone in this century. 

So, if you are reading this and you feel seen, then this column is for you. If you are uncomfortable, then maybe it is also for you. We are not here to soften the truth or package it nicely. We are here to talk, honestly and openly, about what it means to be a woman navigating life as it is, not as it was promised. 

Welcome to Mavutu Conversations. Stay. We still have a lot to talk about. 

*Frieda Mukufa’s lifestyle section in the New Era concentrates on women-related issues and parenting. She specialises in editing research proposals, proofreading, and content creation. – etuholefrieda@ gmail.com