My ‘Father’ Was Never The Artist They Made Me Believe, I Inherited Nothing From Him.

I was born a creative person, I was always innovative, expressive and artistic. Ever since I could hold a pen, I started to express myself in writing and drawing.  As I grew up, I was constantly told that I took this gift of being artistic from my “father” Chief Mutota. I was told that he was an artist and I had inherited this gift from him. Somehow I believed it and never really thought much about it though a lot of things did not add up.

A few months ago when I became aware of the truth that Miriam Matambanadzo was not my birth mother, and when Chief Mutota released the audio in his own voice confessing that he was not my biological Father, a few things actually started to add up.

Even though as a child I was told that I inherited the gift of art from Chief Mutota, not once did I ever see him hold a pencil or sketch anything. Not once did I ever see him do anything artistic. He never once showed any interest in art. Yet each time I drew, he always took the credit.

A few weeks ago, for the first time, I asked him if he really was an artist and if he could really draw. I asked him why I never once saw him draw anything at all. He said he was an artist but never had the time to draw. I asked him to draw me something to prove that he was an artist, but the scariest thing was he could not. I came to the realisation that he was never the artist I thought he was.

I always wondered why I was the only one with the artistic gift in the entire family. It was always a mystery to me, but I was always told that it was because I was chosen.

Chief Mutota has a lot of children, legitimate and illegitimate, but none of them are artistic or creative in any way.

Well, since I became Mary-Tamar I know that none of my “siblings” where creative or artistic in any way simply because we do not share the same DNA.

In my Boaz’s family, they are all gifted singers, as they inherited the gift from their mother. Though Boaz is the one who stands out more and pursued the calling, the rest of the family share the same passion and talent.

Half of my children are artists and my oldest son has proved to be very talented. Last year my son won a design a flag competition for his borough, beating students from a number of schools. He is well known as an artist.

For my son to go out into the community and be the artist that he is, it started in the home.

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My Firstborn Son was honoured in his community for his creative contribution

 

But it’s not only my son who is an artist, but my 4-year-old daughter is also quite artistic too. Her gift as an artist already stands out. Because I am an artist, my children took after me. They also watch me draw. But I had no one to imitate or learn from. There was no art or creativity in the family I grew up in.

My youngest daughter is not even two yet, but she’s a dancer and singer, already taking after her father.

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My little girl is quite expressive in dancing and singing

Surely certain things are supposed to run in the family.

But the strangest thing in the family I grew up in is that I was the only one who had all the gifts and talents. I was the only one who even managed to pass my GCSE and go on to do A’levels. The rest of my “siblings” were so bad at school that none of them even came up with basic GCSE’s. None of them was even academically average at school.

All I knew was I had absolutely nothing in common with any of my siblings. Nothing at all. I could not even speak the same language. One of my “siblings” had to create a fake CCSE certificate to make it to University in the UK.

I was always the odd one out, and sadly I was badly ill-treated because I was different from them.

Becoming Mary-Tamar has helped me understand why a lot of bad things happened to me growing up and why I was never accepted by them. I am glad that now I know why.

I am glad I was always true to myself, even when I stood out in the midst of people who hated me for who I was, my gift of expressing myself is what made me survive them.

If one is to ask me who inspired me to be a writer or artist, the truth is ‘no one’ inspired me. I had to inspire myself to be myself.

I can never attribute any gift I have today to the people who raised me. I can only attribute my gifts to my birth mother and birth father, wherever they are, I am eternally grateful they gave me something that no one can ever take away from me…

The Genesis Of The Revelation

By Mary-Tamar

 

 

 

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