My hands, your hands, our hands, people’s hands and the nations’ hands joined together, are a gift of hope, love and peace from the almighty. Hands that crystallize our own existences, they are a universal language spoken sublimely by lovers, protagonists, antagonists and foes. Hands are a tapestry on which we forge unity and reconciliation. Most importantly our hands are lifeblood of our selfless strength and power to give and take. In our hands flows a train of blood that drives our passion to embrace all of humanity. It is through these hands that the image of our lives is sculpted. Your hands may be coated with a sweet as honey bloodstream. Yet it is incumbent on you as to how you use them. Lazy, tough, soft, industrious, hardworking, enthusiastic and multi –skilled hands belong to one and the same royal family (the giver of hope, shaker of the universe and noble builder of nations).
Hands sometimes tell stories of joy, pain, human triumphs, suffering and happiness. The profound role played by hands in our live hinges on our spirituality, emotional outlook and physical touch. The multi – coloured canvasses where each and everyone’s hands paint their history are as diverse as the lines on our palms. The imprinted carvings (lines) on the back of our hands symbolize our signatures to realise our long-term dreams. Our signatures depend on our hands; you may have an in-satiable appetite to truly make this world a better place. Hands can inhibit or inspire a revolution in everyone’s space whether in relationships, marriages or business. Through our hands we can change our circumstances and blow our world to smithereens or reconstruct and tell our story to the rest of the world.
Amongst hands, there are hands anointed with warmth - you could scale heights once touched by them. In the same breath there are hands that bring smiles to people trapped in poverty. Look at your hands and think what you can do with them. Are your hands the type of hands that can lift, lead and give life skills? There are almost a dozen other hands that exude beauty, ecstasy and exultation. In other settings there are weak emaciated hands desperately signalling to others to help. There are hands, which reach out and touch to ensure a better life for all. These are the hands that touch people in distress, on deathbeds and during difficult circumstances. Caring hands have not only brought life to this planet. The same hands we witness touching souls affected and infected with HIV/AIDS.
Sometimes with a sense of trepidation we close the eyes of our beloved ones with our hands as they pass on. It’s our hands that throw soil on top of the departed as they travel the last miles. Do our hands ever get tired of performing the odious task? The answer is no. In the belly of mother earth dozens of men toil in the soil looking for that elusive mineral – gold. In other environments pain is inflicted and killings are committed. We can choose to condemn, curse, comfort with these extremeties known as hands. It is truth that our hands can be liberators, loving hands that long to save live.
Daily we see couples holding hands – as if there is no tomorrow. Sometimes the consequences of acts by hands are ghastly to contemplate. The image of a frail looking grandmother holding one of her terminally ill offspring confronts us daily. Her wrinkled hands at this point are stronger; life’s cruel sense of timing is displayed. The deep intricate lines that define the wisdom of our hands, makes it possible for us to extend our hands to those in dire need. We may decide to destroy, maim, strangle, rape and torment by our hands. But, in our hands there is a strand, a cushion of love, creation and embrace. Our hands are, supposedly, structured such that they can carry the world. We can care, caress and crucify using the same hands.
From where I am seated I see hands that solicit tears, from hands of an individual who is blessed with healing, hale and hearty hands. How often have my hands, your hands reached out to our beloved ones touched by AIDS. In most cases we throw our hands in the air and shrug our shoulders and pretend it’s not our responsibility. The fact is we should embrace more, without being hands off. Clapping of hands has since time immemorial created a spiritual rhythm of togetherness in places of worship inspiring a sense of love and affection to people. I get encouragement from hands that weave a blanket of care, and compassion and champion the cause of hope for the affected and infected in the breadth and length of our world. I see radiant rays of hope for the whole of humanity, as hands of the youth, adults, volunteers and senior citizens light a candle of hope for all of us touched by AIDS.
Through my hands I have produced a body of work that captures, turbulent times in our lives as we battle the AIDS pandemic. I endeavour to honestly and without any holds barred, to document all the languages I have observed spoken by hands. I have captured hands of caregivers, AIDS champions, AIDS activists, health workers, AIDS ambassadors, religious leaders, politicians, children heading households, researchers, doctors and just about everybody including unsung heroes and heroines who hand in hand give their expertise, skills and resources in order for us to arrest the spread of AIDS in our communities. I wish to extend a hand of appreciation to the hands a-plenty surrounding me, during the process of producing my works.
My hand drips with love; I extend my hand to my family, without who I wouldn’t be able to showcase my creation to the world. My hand of thanks giving goes to my mentor ousie Hazel (a researcher) who coined the title for my exhibition, after encountering and engaging with my artworks – may your hands spread love, reconstruct the social fabric of Nations throughout the world fighting the AIDS pandemic and touched by it’s vicious hands. Lastly, my friendly hands go down to the people of Guyana, especially Trevor Benn, who believed in me and gave me a break to exhibit my works abroad. An experience I have awaited for years, may this exhibition, on the one hand allow my hands to connect with my late mom Catherine Nomoya Mashinini and brother Minus Sibusiso Mashinini, wherever they are. May peace be upon them, their generous, giving and gentle hands, gave the world a son, a brother whose hands have always reached out and touched folks forever experiencing rejection, discrimination and isolation.
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