Who Is Leen Kahn? - Part 6 (Johannesburg) COMING SOON!!!

Who Is Leen Kahn? - Part 5 (Growing up)

Being Gay is never easy, we live in a world that's only begun to really acknowledge it and to some extent accept it however I feel there's still a long road to go before it can be seen as a part of life that's unavoidable. I always say I grew up not knowing any gay people or heroes to look up to, I was only exposed to what was allowed in my bubble, even Life Orientation at school didn't have that as a subject at school so I still felt like I needed some form of education, a proper way to introduce myself onto the scene, that's when I met my first gay best friend.

Unlike most, I was a bit slow on the intimate parts of life, I shied away at opportunities and chose to watch my newfound friend in action, all the boys would try to get with him to the point where they used to ask me to put in a good word for them just so that he can speak to them, at that point I was still a rooky so I was always transparent with him in regards to guys intentions with him, this made our bond stronger and escalated our friendship greatly. My grandmother never used to allow me to sleep over at friends houses she never met unless their parents would make a phone call, unfortunately I used to forget this little rule and land up in a lot of trouble when I got home. Since I was a year younger than my friend it was always an issue if we had to go out, the bouncers would see right through “I-forgot-my-ID-in-the-car” act, if we were lucky I'd get sneaked in through the back or get the “nicer” bouncer who overlooked the seventeen year old me. My friendship with this friend of mine was very fruitful but also had its lows, he literally introduced me into the scene but there was an ugly side to it that I didn't quite understand and this made dating for me much harder, I trusted men much less especially after the flop of a relationship I had with my first and then my second love interest who made me look like boo-boo the fool, I was at the point where I preferred to be the wingman than be the main man.

I joined a couple of dating sites and met some rather interesting guys, one in particular was this thirty-two year old German guy who had a rather weird name but nice features and build so I thought to myself that I needed to be more open and willing to receive whatever the man could offer, besides which I was starting to feel like an old man who was growing cobwebs down South. We went to Fishoek, spent the day there and ended off at this amazing restaurant that faced the ocean, the lights were dimmed and I felt the novelty of my first proper date with an older man, he looked into my eyes when he spoke to me and made me feel special for the evening, the drive back was even better – I'm a sucker for romance and chivalry!!! Of course by the time we got back I told him to drop me a road below because I didn't want a stalker situation and he obliged but not without trying to kiss me and ask me if I wanted to stay over at his place, though the idea was tempting I was worried it might have gone in another direction so I kindly declined his offer and returned home. The next time I met him (this is after we had chatted for a bit) he took me to Table Mountain and told me that he could no longer see me anymore, he felt that there was too big an age gap and that at the end of the day I deserved better, of course I was shattered but I told myself he was right, I deserved better, I deserved a REAL man! Of course I met more and more men, mostly older as I felt like I needed someone who had a mature way of thinking and was firmly established in their life, however a lot of them turned out to be immature and interested only in one thing. I won't lie and say I was never naïve with men, I had fallen for their tricks before, allowed myself to get involved in the moment only to be dropped like a hot potato the next.

High school wasn't always about my failed love-life, I had also started paying attention to my talents as well, I started out with drama and joined the school choir then when the bell rang for the end of the day I'd go straight to my friends house and we'd play around with music beats and make some music, I can't lie and say we were making hits but we had to start somewhere and with each song we became better,wiser and eager to the point where I decided to move to Johannesburg after Matric and I did.

Who Is Leen Kahn? - Part 4 ( The Boy Who Met Himself )

High school was the highlight of my life, so many different and important things happened during that time, most importantly it's the period I finally came out.

It was the year after my mother had passed away and I had decided to go to a High School that had my cousins in it, I didn't really have any attachment to anyone after Primary School besides one of my real best friends who ended up going to an all-girls school and we lost touch. By this time my friendship with my german friend had come to a complete standstill, he had ended up moving away and the only other friends I had was the family that had introduced me to Lion King (lol), they were a family of two girls with two loving parents, they were always there from the very beginning and for a long time they were my escape from my reality, they gave me exactly what I needed - love.

Through my first year at school I felt displaced and different from the crowd, at that time I didn't know if it was depression or if it was me not even trying to fit in with the crowd, crying came too easily to me and I was weak. I tried to make friends and for a short while I made some, however it was difficult because I was still carrying this grudge within me and it was blocking me from reality, everything got to me and I was always sensitive to what people said. If anyone ever needed to look for me they would surely find me sitting at the library burying my head in a book or on the internet, I wasn't too fond of seeing what happened beyond my school walls too much, I was more content with the silence however I was always curious about my surroundings and how the people around me thought.

In my second year I had become a bit more consistent with the group of people I called friends and things for a change seemed to be going really well, the rumor about my "so-called" sexuality had arisen again and I could no longer hide from it, this very same group of friends also made me feel secure enough in myself to confide my secret to my "Lion King" family first and foremost, I told myself I'd judge by their reaction and see how many more people I could tell, soon enough I became a bit more comfortable to actually act upon my newfound power and sanity, I admit it balanced me a bit to get that chip right off my shoulder however I still hadn't told one very important person - Boss Lady.

For a long time I had a crush on a popular boy at my school (who shall forever remain nameless for privacy reasons) and I had kept it to myself, I used to have a little school-girl crush on him and one day one of my friends organized his number for me so I decided to give him a call and confess my undying love for him, now that I look back on that day I laugh harder than I ever have before but in the moment I was blinded by being a recently out-of-closet teen, the response of course from his side was that he wasn't interested and he had every reason to not be...The boy was straight! And with that one phone call the entire high school found out and I never truly lived that phone call down, it made things awkward for me and I decided at one point before the year was done that it was either I continued to be weak or to face the challenge with a smile and MINCE! and oh baby did I mince!

Who Is Leen Kahn? - Part 3 ( The Bird With The Broken Wings)

My mother was not a horrible human being, but more of someone who had to be strong on the outside to mask the hurt deep within, I know she loved me and I loved her right back (as much as I thought I didn't ), her story in itself was one of the many I put on my belt of strength and life lessons, many people don't know but we had our little special moments, we shared a love of music and I always admired her spirit however she was just another bird with broken wings that time had not healed and eventually her time ran out.

Primary school was a hard transition for me personally, my little happy bubble I used to live in was slowly starting to fill in with little realities around me, the way people thought and how their actions could determine my way of thought in the long run. I was very trusting and shy, I was only myself around my grandmother and small handful of friends. I used to do Athletics and cross-country, I found that I was a secretly competitive child, I knew what other talents I possessed but chose to leave those as hobbies and stick to what would make me look good to everyone, I wanted to make my gran proud and bring home a medal or something similar, however I never won or became number one, I either came second or completely lost which used to work on my self-esteem and during this time I had met a boy who became one of my best friends at school, we did everything together and gradually I met a few others but this one was my bestie and things were good for a while.

My grandmother used to get fed up with me a lot because I used to come home hours after school was done and this was due to me playing with the other kids at after-care, this was a habit that stuck with me for a couple of years. Things started to get dodgey at my school and in 1998 I was transferred to another Primary school my gran felt would be safer and better. As soon as I came to this school I was picked on immediately, I had no friends here and I had to start again, the pressures of keeping up with the other kids and fending off bullies became too much for me and I lost the plot, I used to have temper tantrums, fight with other kids and caused some real physical damage to them that always landed me in the Principal's office, the secretary grew so tired of me reporting every little issue that she just told me straight out “Lincoln, why don't you just fight your own battles for a change?” and this turned me into a little rebel for a while. My gran was called in and Social workers were also involved because they felt that I was a danger to myself and other kids, my teacher made a point that I must have a mental problem because she only saw me playing with girls and not other boys which to her was disturbing.

My gran was a trooper of note and stood up for me like no one else did and it made me feel whole but not normal, I started to question my entire being from that young age. Some of my family treated me no better, I was always deemed the favorite or the spoilt one, as much as I tried to fit in I stood out until one day I attempted suicide, I felt like the seed of the devil, I could never understand the looks people constantly gave me or the way other kids treated me, my suicide attempt was botched though – I kept thinking of where I would land up as a suicide kid (heaven or hell?) however I wanted to teach myself a lesson and I ended up cutting myself somewhere else as a reminder of how stupid and ugly the act of suicide was and to this day I am grateful I for that, although I enjoyed telling people a totally different story – now ya'll know the truth FINALLY!

Things weren't always rosy with my gran, she was indeed my hero but she was also a parent and like most she also disciplined me and instilled very strong values within my character, the greatest lesson I learned from her is to work hard for anything that you want, to know your strengths and weakness and see your goal to the end. It took me a long time to even attempt such a thing, I was going through many different emotions and physical changes, through puberty I started gaining weight and my shape changed, people used to confuse me for a girl (and still do at times!) and rumors spread and I finally came face to face with my demon which was named “Moffie” and no matter how much I denied it deep down I knew something was different about me, problem was what was I going to do about it? The only thing I decided at that point is that I would either discover my demon to its full potential or continue to deny what I was being called until people stopped, my biggest problem is that my entire nature was exactly as they were describing it and I was too young to understand who I really was nor did I have any exposure to any gay heroes back then, my world was too small and certain parts were cut off so I had to wing it on my own.

By this time my mother had already given birth to three other boys but we didn't share the same father, I admit we were really raised apart than together, in the beginning during my school holidays I used to fetch them from their father's house and bring them to the house, however things weren't so good between their father and our mother, he used to beat her black and blue – sometimes in front of people, this for me was strange because I knew she could physically return the favor however he had a hold over her in some way and I believe she loved him that much. The man never really liked me in the beginning, like I said before I was a shy kid however around common faces I wouldn't hold my tongue (little as I was) and this he DID NOT like!

Everything went to hell the day I went to go fetch the kids on one of my school holidays, he flat-out refused to let them come with me and threatened to keep them by force come what may so this set the ball rolling in a family dispute over the kids, my mother was torn between the two and my grandmother wasn't having anymore of that, she opened up a Police Case and the children were seized but not without its difficulties, when we got there his (my brother's father) mother swore and spat vulgur words at my grandmother, the boss lady simply picked her up and threw her across the room as if she weighed nothing, pushed through the crowd and got the kids out, I admit that was one hell of a memory for me, sort of like a dont-mess-with-the-zohan type of moment, but it also made me see how messed up my family life was. There were more cases of violence, he beat my mother in a graveyard and cracked her skull, my youngest brother's first memory of his parents and it followed him for a long time, the violence was too much and my gran gave my mother an ultimatum – she knew better than to choose otherwise. My relationship with my mother became more and more strained, I felt like she was the opposite of everything I wanted to be, she didn't show me love I saw other mothers give their kids, she only communicated with me through violence should I have done something wrong and I needed her to step up to the plate – even though I was always reminded that she would never be the mother I wanted and probably needed.

The day before my mother died my grandmother had a terrible feeling about something she couldn't explain and after school she told me to go home and get my mom and her cousin (who was living there to help out with the kids), by the time I got home my mother was just about to turn a corner at the end of the road ( I remember seeing her walking with her new bf) and out of pure laziness and irritation at the fact that I had to rush all the way to get her I decided to just take her cousin and I figured i'd explain to my gran that I simply “missed her”...That was the last time I saw my mother alive.

Who Is Leen Kahn? - Part 2 (Mila's Story)

My Grandmother was a very spiritual person, we went to church religiously and made our daily prayers. My grandmother also had a gift I grew to understand later on, now before I continue I need to emphasize the importance of an open mind when you read this, I wasn't raised to see things through tunnel vision but to look at any possiblility and acknowledge the impossible (by Society's terms). I was born Xhosa but raised very Western so I wasn't too exposed to Cultural events as my grandmother stopped practicing them at some point and it stuck. My gran used to tell me stories of her history, her family's history and the spiritual attachment to it, some of these stories seemed a bit far-fetched for me but I finally got my chance to experience the part of life not many chose to explore or talk about.

My grandmother was born in 1932 and her mother passed away giving birth to her,she was the only child of her mother and father, she was raised with family members and wanted to become a nurse from an early age but unfortunately due to a lack of money and support she decided to start working. At some point in my grans life she ended up staying at District 6, by this time she was already married to my grandfather and had her first child, from what she used to tell me life for her was blissful and care-free during the District 6 days, until they were removed and had to find an alternative. My grandmother was the one who alwaysput food on the table and my grandfather used to reap the benefits of having money go straight to him. In the olden days men used to physically "discipline" their wives and my grandmother was no exception, the man had a temper of note and a hand that beat till you bled, my aunts and uncles were subject to his physical abuse. My grandfather was a highly intelligent man who could've been an Attorney if he wanted, he was into Politics and stuck to being a certain Political Party's book-keeper but during the raids he decided to burn all traces of his work and kept a low profile. My grandfather was also a ladies man, mostly admired for his looks and height (he was extremely tall and therefore nicknamed "Tall-Man") and he was such a sweet charmer to the ladies that they couldn't resist, he also dabbled in music and played the Saxophone. He and my grandmother met in a jazz club on one of the days his band performed and he took one look at her and knew he wanted to marry her, of course my gran was young and impressionable at that time so she didn't know any better, the man was known for being such a player but she fell for him and he for her and so began their journey together. 

From a very young age my grandmother used to get "visions" or "dreams" that used to disturb her, some were of people dying or some were forewarnings, as she explained to me her family come from a lineage of people who could see things and she had been bestowed the gift, however in those days it was either church or culture and she chose church, it was believed that if you went to church it would suppress the visions and your way would be clear, also known as refusing the gift.

In her many years married to my grandfather she worked hard and long,sometimes working sleep-in jobs and sending money home or to her relatives where the rest of her children lived and being that it was during Apartheid times she told me it was hard but she made it work. In these times away from home my grandfathers eye tended to wander and one day it found it's target, another woman.

The day that my grandfather left my grandmother he packed his suitcase, had a car waiting outside with the "other woman" in it, he was busy telling my grandmother that he wanted to move out and make a life with this woman but that he'd leave the kids with her and she'd have to fend for herself. The day he walked out he never turned back and neither did my gran and so began her uphill battle alone, an older woman and to some degree bruised from all the years of abuse and emotional battle. In the coming years after that my grandmother never re-married, never fell in love again and ended up dedicating her life to her children and soon enough to a little baby boy who was born in 1988.

Who Is Leen Kahn? - Part 1 (In The Beginning)

The year was 1988 and in the summer of February 21st my mother gave birth to me in Cape Town, South Africa and I was named Mzwabantu Lincoln Mzwakali.

My mother at that time was a young woman who had been a singer/dancer in a group that she had met and befriended my father, they were destined for greatness but at that point she had started to show in her pregnancy and had to eventually quit the group. My mother was one of six children and the youngest of them all, she was raised and bred by my grandmother from the start even though my grandfather was around until she was at least 7 years old and then he left. My grandparents were married for many years but due to issues in their marriage they parted ways and my grandmother was left to fend for her kids, some of which ended up living with relatives. As quickly as I was born a lot of people started asking questions about who my father was and my mother at that time had been steadily dating someone other than my father the assumption was that it was him, however my father knew otherwise and decided to confront her about it, she ended up denying it and cut him off from being a part of my life. During this time my grandmother decided that it would be better if she took care of me instead of my mother because she was not ready to fulfil the duties of a mother, at this time she was working and sleeping in town and that became my new home for years to come.

From as early as I can remember the house used to have all sorts of new families renting it and with each family a bond was formed, the one I can remember most distinctly whom I still call family to this day is a french family who stayed a little longer than a year in the house, they treated me like their own and my grandmother was as good as part of the family, they used to take me to trips all over Cape Town and spoil me rotten with clothes from France and toys galore. Around the age of five or six I met a german boy who used to live opposite the house, we fast became best friends and we did everything together, I was a bit of a loner during creche and primary school so it was always refreshing to come home to him, I also made friends with an amazing family of people that immediately accepted me as one of their own, I remember I met their mother in Checkers (when it JUST opened) and I was nagging to my grandmother that I wanted the Lion King video but she wasn't having any of that (Boss Lady!) until this lovely lady came up to us and told us she also had kids and that she could make a copy of Lion King for me, that was all it took and after our first visit I became a constant nuisance. Kids used to always make fun of me for many different reasons during creche and Primary School, I was a sensetive child so I used to take what they said to heart and this developed my temper. Outside of school my grandmother enrolled me in a child-modeling agency and at one point my agent was moving to the US so she begged my grandmother to take me with, she promised to make me bigger than I was, however my grandmother was fearful of what might happen to me without her supervision and young as I was she wanted to see me complete my schooling and make such a decision at a later stage. During all this time my relationship with my mother was very distant, she was physically abusive and an alcoholic and we forever kept knocking heads but I was always safe when I was in town, to the point where I begged my grandmother to leave me in town on weekends so that I didn't have to see her, of course that privilege only came when I could prove to my gran that I could look after myself.

In my first year in Primary school I had an episode with my Sub A teacher, I had needed to use the bathroom and she told me to keep quiet and wait till break, I decided that the wee was too much to hold in and I asked her again to let me go, she still refused and in my first moment of defiance of anger I decided to let it go and peed right there in my seat and gave her THAT look, that was the quickest I got my mouth washed out with soap! Next was another teacher in Sub B who called me stupid for losing a book, now this lady was a chain-smoker of note who shouldn't have considered teaching at all, she was the epitomy of pure evil, when this lost book situation happened she humiliated me in front of the entire class and demanded I either look for the book or leave her class, of course I found the book – where SHE had left it! Now as you guys have gathered my mother and I were never on good terms however when my gran told her of someone making me upset that was the quickest she came to my defence about the matter, after school she marched right into my classroom unannounced and closed the door behind her with me outside peeking through the keyhole, all I can say about my mother is that when she got angry the air around her became electric, so you can imagine how my teacher must've felt. After that incident I saw her in a different light but I was also wary because she never showed me another side to her, she was a puzzle to me that I could never figure – not for a long time anyway.

(To be continued...)