5 apps to help you chill out

Sometimes, life can get pretty rough and feel overwhelming. It’s important for both our mental and physical health to take some time out to relax and reconnect with ourselves. Here are some apps that can help you do just that: Continue reading

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Trading Live: Hyah! Self-defence is a kick in the right direction

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Maureen de Jager and Greg Grapentin demonstrate the beginning stance of the ‘kata’ taught to Trading Live participants in the Hill Street Dojo. Photo: Lili Barras-Hargan

Members of the Rhodes University Human Kinetics and Ergonomics (HKE) department gathered in the Hill Street Dojo on Tuesday 26 July to take part in a 67-minute long self-defence course. Three experts in karate instructed the HKE students and staff as part of Trading Live for Mandela Day, teaching them effective and safe ways to protect themselves.

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Universally Beautiful

12507557_897037810395211_44428861466927731_nWhen you hear the words, “Your body is a forest”, a certain image springs to mind. Your forest might be an oasis of waterfalls and free flowing streams. It might be densely vegetated, with exotic flowers erupting from the earth. It could have just a few tall trees, made beautiful by the intricacy of their patterned leaves. The forest  in your mind’s eye is yours to nourish and tend to as you please.   Continue reading

You have the right to remain silent

TW: discussion of rape culture.

Protests erupted on Rhodes campus last month against rape culture, and everyone’s experience was complex and unique. This series voices the thoughts of our editors.

There are countless things I have to be thankful for as an international student.  I have been awarded the opportunity to immerse myself in a new culture and interact with intelligent and creative people, establishing a second home in the world. However, this perception changed during the #RUReferenceList protest. Continue reading

The male voice

TW: discussion of rape culture

Protests erupted on Rhodes campus last month against rape culture, and everyone’s experience was complex and unique. This series voices the thoughts of our editors.

There has been a lot of controversy around the male voice in the recent protests against rape culture within universities. This has resulted in men having several conversations among themselves with regards to this issue. I have been privileged enough to engage in such a conversation of my own with a few other men. This conversation was plagued with  disagreements, yet at the same time educational and mind opening. Continue reading

It’s all about choice

TW: discussion of rape culture.

Protests erupted on Rhodes campus last month against rape culture, and everyone’s experience was complex and unique. This series voices the thoughts of our editors.

Protesting is not easy, especially if that protest is about rape and rape culture. Recently,  at the university currently known as Rhodes, students shut down campus over the university’s poor handling of sexual violence. Many rape survivors were at the forefront of the protests, which raised the issues of trauma, triggering, and self-care. Continue reading

My medication and I

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Wake up. Shower. Brush teeth. Take anti-depressants. This is my morning routine. I never really hated my medication, but I didn’t like the idea of having to take them in order to be functional and happy. After two years of being on anti-depressants I went off  them for a couple of months, believing I was in a good space and could manage without them. However, those couple of months were also the beginning of my first year of university. I was away from home, overwhelmed and alone, and my grandfather died. When crying on the phone to my mom one night, she said it simply sounded like I needed to go back on them. So I did. I would wake up in the morning, I would have energy in the day, and I would even make my bed. It was like fuel for my brain. Continue reading

Bones breaking, windows smashing

An anguished cry ripped through the air like a serrated knife through fabric. My eyes darted around frantically, searching for the source, until the ball of fire in my throat alerted me to the fact that that was my scream. That crumpled ball of maroon metal was my car. The dirty red stains across my arms and wrists was my blood, and the shards of glass lodged in my scalp and tangled in my hair used to be my windscreen. Continue reading