38 YEARS AN EXILE: XVI

HOME AT LAST! Part 16
POWER IN THE DIASPORA: KNOW THYSELF

DEDICATION: To my Brothers, global fraternity of wisdom, my Teachers, my Dear Mother, and my children from other fathers all over the world.

Acacia Lisebo Maria Tree

Acacia Lisebo Maria Tree

Trees and flowers planted round Chilembo Heights residence have each a name, and a story to tell. The Acacia Lisebo Maria tree is Dear Mother’s life metaphor. Her deep loyalty and commitment to her friends I have yet to fathom. She loves her enemies. Over time, she ever actively seeks to bring them closer to her, if not under her wings. Ever benevolent to the enemies and their offspring, if and when they die she will contribute to seeing to it that they are buried with dignity and honour. Amazing Grace.

Forced to close a protracted intense, mutually irreconcilable conflict on certain crucial matters of principle, the great royal prince, his highness doctor professor Mdadakumbakumba Kumdada threw in a verbal salvo, “Simon, I know who you are. I know where you come from. I know whom you talk to. I know about you more than you think you know yourself. I can finish you off anytime I want!”
Simon, “Believe me, Sir, I happen to know very well who I am, and where I come from. I am son of a poor immigrant labourer from Zambia. Well, in Norway, everybody knows everything about everybody who is a good, law-abiding citizen in the country. And, let me remind you, kind Sir, that you have threatened me on more than one occasion before”
Mdadakumbakumba Kumdada, “Young man, I don’t make empty threats. I am a man of action!”
Such was the line crossed. And, symbolically, I drew my sword. In another time, another space, I would have, without a blink, done the lightening fast Kill Bill Yakuza boardroom meeting slash on the man. I am Musashi disciple.

The side of the line on which I am, and I live; on which I Am That I Am on a daily basis, is bright and merry, and so full of love. On this side, I am a poet, I am a singer, I am a dancer; I am the buffoon. I am a freedom fighter, freedom maker, freedom protector and defender. I praise freedom everyday on this side. This is the side For All The girls I’ve Loved Before, all the girls I love; for all the girls I shall love tomorrow. I dream on this side, I create on this side. I thrive on this side of the line I live because it is the home and source of knowledge. Knowledge is power. Power is energy in motion. Energy is potential for work. Motion is movement. Movement is work. Work is change. Change is flexibility, adaptability. Adaptability is growth and development, which lead to progress. Progress translates into abundance, foundation for peace, it being the ultimate goal of life. If I Should Die Tonight, it shall be on this side. I have chosen I shall not die in the dark, in misery and pain. That is how I can be most ruthless, unkind, and unforgiving to any negative force that unfairly, and unjustifiably, crosses the line from the other side to destroy what I have, and know, of the good life of love and peace, rationality and philosophy.

On the other side of the line, where darkness, misery, and pain prevail is found the likes of Mr Mdadakumbakumba Kumdada. Myopic, hopelessly ignorant types to whom enlightenment cannot form even a fragment of their visions in the dark. Driven by perpetual greed and power drunkenness, their existence is all about control and domination of others. Using age-old human behaviour manipulation tools of religions and gods, as well as “our culture”, their chief aim and preoccupation are to bend people under the yokes of respect and honour. Because they do not know anything about themselves as unique individuals in universal energy creation manifestation, it being beyond their intellectual and spiritual comprehension faculties, the concept of personal integrity is far beyond their perceptive potential. These kinds of people are the greatest liars, the worst tricksters at any point in history. The reality is that it is the fear of the unknown, as conjured up by their own underdeveloped cognitive capabilities, which they project outwards to the world as they rule with fear, terror, murder and genocide against those who stand against them; all in the name of holy ghosts and gods, prophets, ancestral spirits, and the like. It is those Diasporants, like Mr Mdadakumbakumba Kumdada, fitting the description just given, who fail to establish new lives of success, happiness and peace in their respective Diaspora host lands, with particular reference to those of the opulent, industrialized, First World of the West, including Norway, where, all things remaining equal, light, knowledge, and human dignity are valued above much else.

Simon Chilembo, Pres/ CEO, Chilembo EmpireIn happier glory and glamour times gone by, yes the unforgettable Yuppie days of the 1980-90s, at the Baron Night Club in Oslo, over the biggest bottles of Moët & Chandon I had ever seen, the great royal prince, his highness doctor professor Mdadakumbakumba Kumdada, had given me a friendly warning, and a subtle threat, “Let me tell you something you don’t know about me. I have defied sure deaths several times before, after having been forced to dig my own grave on two or three occasions. You see, from my training in our secret tribal leadership training according to our culture, I am indifferent to death and life. If I am alive I am alive, if I am dead I am dead. But I kill; I do not get killed. If you try to kill me, I will kill you first. Old as I am, I can move at the speed of a Black Mamba snake if and when I have to, anytime. Don’t ever try me! Norway is a terrible country for us Black people to be. You won’t see it immediately, but racism here makes apartheid in South Africa seem like a child’s game. However, don’t worry, I will protect you. I will support you any time. But you must respect me. There is no other foreigner who can do for you what I can. I am a man of honour. I keep my word. That’s how we Royals are. All I want is respect, nothing more, or less. Cheers to a happy future together in Norway, my young, brilliant friend!”
We cheersed on and on through the night. Girls came and went; and came with us in the end. Even in my drunken stupor, with the girls doing things to me many men can only dream of, I couldn’t let go of the notion that respect is earned.

Respect is a two-way traffic, beginning and ending with the self, in a continuous self-referral loop. Awareness of self-respect is conditional upon knowing oneself for the human being one is, in a never-ending interactive and mutual interdependence relationship with other social beings. This, defining our roles, duties, responsibilities, and obligations to the wellbeing of, and service to others, for the furtherance of harmonious and peaceful co-existence in, and for, overall societal growth and development. Respect is about the values we stand for, and represent, both as individuals, and members of different human/ social collectives. Mutual respect among people of all sorts of varying backgrounds meeting in specific spaces and settings, as well as times, is attainable only when their divergent values are, or can be, compatible. Given the vast disparities of people, as conditioned by the divergent nature of origins, all-round growth and development in distinctive parts of the earth with variable natural conditions and natural phenomena occurrences, compatibility of human values does not often come on its own, it is worked at.

Learning, acquiring knowledge and understanding, including internalizing new ideas and views of the world as the Diaspora keeps on growing in thousands by the day in our times of huge, extremely brutal religious and sovereignty/ civil wars across the globe, are vital components of the key to mutual respect of variable people values in the world. It is the failure, I shall assert, to synthesize new uplifting, life-supporting paradigms from acquired, if at all, new knowledge which is the cause of lack of success for many a Diasporant the world over, thereby playing into the hands of the inhuman religious fundamentalists indiscriminate orgy of violence and necropower pursuits in jihadist-action-hotspots everywhere, for example. Xenophobic violence experienced in South Africa in recent times has not miraculously come, and does not feed, of itself. No one thrives, and humanity has little to gain from those who have chosen to live on the other side of the line in which darkness, misery, awe, jealousy, prejudice, malice, and pain reign. Enlightenment is the answer to “… Emancipate yourselves from mental slavery. None but ourselves can free our minds …”
Ignorance state of existence is a personal choice. You want to die and feel free in life beyond death, do so alone in your own world of myths and superstition. Racists in South Africa and elsewhere, take heed as well.

 

Simon Chilembo
Riebeeckstad
Welkom
South Africa
Tel.: +27 717 454 115
February 27, 2015

2014 in review

The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2014 annual report for this blog.

Here’s an excerpt:

A San Francisco cable car holds 60 people. This blog was viewed about 3,100 times in 2014. If it were a cable car, it would take about 52 trips to carry that many people.

Click here to see the complete report.

38 YEARS AN EXILE: XV

HOME AT LAST! Part 15
RACIST SCUMBAGS – WHITE SOUTH AFRICAN RACISTS ONLY THEMSELVES TO THANK

©Simon Chilembo, 2014

©Simon Chilembo, 2014

My 27 year old exile-born nephew doesn’t know, doesn’t care shit about apartheid. What he knows and cares all shit about is that he is a raw South African to the bone, and this South Africa is his land through and through. If it says anybody anything, he is a proud son of a proud Sotho-Zulu man who in his life did take a bullet or two as an active MK veteran fighting for the freedom of our land in our time. In 2076, my nephew will be 89 years old. To his great-grandchildren and their progeny, apartheid will be but a fragment of history you go into GugulazaTI+ (TrillionInfinityPlus, as Google South Africa will be called then) to find out what it was.

A little over 10 years ago I am on a Welkom-Durban road trip with him, my nephew. While looking for an address in Bethlehem, we stop a White boy about his age. “Hey, ya,” my nephew calls out confidently, “do you know where such and such address is?” Looking at me, the White boy replies politely, and points, “Over there, Sir!”
“Dankie, broer!” says my nephew with a broad smile. “Cheers, guys!” the White boy happily waves good-bye as he cycles away. I (have) never said anything of the dialogue to my nephew. But I briefly got overcame by emotion, and thought quietly, “Wow, how times have changed!”
In 2076, I’ll be 116 years old; probably long dead and gone like apartheid. I hope I shall be remembered for better things than those crimes to humanity apartheid committed against my generation of the people of South Africa.

In 2076, the last of the surviving of the 1976 Soweto uprising generation will be 100 years old. Going by realities of today, by 2096, the entire Soweto 1976 generation will all have transcended this earth. Welcome to the birth of the real New South Africa, pulsating with the colours of the rainbow in the hearts and minds of the people for real. I envisage a 20-year-old South African youth of 2096 as a supra liberated, supra intelligent, mix-masala of human races in one. Tribes? What’s that? In 2096, South Africa is the real and living cradle of brotherhood of man. What A Wonderful World home at last. Racism is dead. 102 years after it was unconstitutionalized in the motherland.

In 2060, a million new South African children shall be born. In 2076, these children shall rise to start a process of merciless brutal ridding of the land of the last vestiges of thick-headed, ever visionless, racist South African Whites. Much in the same fashion as the like-minded insular Islamic Fundamentalist Jihadists with their extremely naïve and unrealistic ambition of world domination, South African White racists are fighting an anti-Black South African war they can never, and they will never win. South Africa will never revert to White Supremacist Apartheid rule. Never. This will be confirmed in 2096 when South African White racists will all have been wiped off the face of the earth. The isolation, exclusion, and at worst, elimination of this scum of people will be like never known in human history before. And for this, South African White racists will only have themselves to thank.
For goodness’ sake, South Africa belongs to all who live in it, to the extent that certain conditions are fulfilled, as stipulated by the law of the land, in accordance with promulgations of the national constitution.

Simon Chilembo
Riebeeckstad
Welkom
South Africa
Tel.: +27 717 454 115
February 06, 2015

38 YEARS AN EXILE: XIV

HOME AT LAST! Part 14
DIASPORA SCUMBAGS

©Simon Chilembo, 2014

©Simon Chilembo, 2014

The worst thing any Diasporants can carry with them in their luggage is the superiority complex attitude, as manifest through racial, religious, and cultural arrogance from their lands of origin. More so if it is, in the first place, racial, religious, and cultural persecutions they have ran away from. We put what we put in each our own different luggage when time to say goodbye has arrived. But not all will be useful when we get to our final, often chance, destinations with promises of a brighter future. Sometimes not even a single item in the luggage will be useful at all. Herein lies the difference between winner and loser Diasporants in time.

Winner Diasporants are the smart ones quick to sort out and rearrange things in their own luggage, going to the extent of even letting it all go upon realizing that what’s best is to empty it all. Get rid of it all, gather and learn new things, new ways of thinking, and relating to the world and life in general. They embrace the new world, the new world embraces them; and all live happily ever after, constantly synthesising new, and improving upon existing, knowledge. The Diaspora becoming ever more vibrant and colourful, inspiring and facilitating growth and development for all, society simply keeps moving forward into an ever highly anticipated exciting future. All the challenges in any sphere associated with this progress never any serious stumbling block because creativity and problem solving are an integral part of survival and being here. Nothing is left in the hands of God, or some racial/ cultural attribute here. People make direct and personal efforts to make change and improve things, and life. Overwhelmed by super success of collective effort by all, Diasporants and hosts, it’s okay to thank and praise God. The real value of God is in their being a conduit for joy, gratefulness, and humility for humanity. That’s all. People make good. People make bad. God is simply a passive observer.

It is, therefore, not the will of God that Diasporants shall want to impose their imported ideas of Gods and cultures in their new host lands of often more relative peace, stability, and prosperity. Losers are those Diasporants who, from their own luggage, bring out and chauvinistically insist upon infusing their own Gods, as espoused in their religions, in the existential fibre of their new homelands. Never works. Ends in death and destruction. Always. Winners love life. Winners love who they love. Winners make love, and out of love comes life. God is God of life to the extent that life is left to thrive and live itself out. God is for the living.

Losers are often the first to kill, forgetting, it seems, that those who live by the sword die by the sword. Or does it matter at all? I am convinced that death is the end of love. If God is love, it is, therefore, a tragic spiritual/ religious and moral contradiction to seek to, and actually, effect death in the name of God.

It is not the duty and responsibility of host lands in the Diaspora to integrate the guest Diasporant. The binding universal moral obligation upon the Diaspora host lands is to give protection, support, and guidance. The Diaspora host lands can only provide a safe platform for further growth and development of the Diasporant, giving access, limited or not, to all society has for the nurture of the individual to thrive to be a valuable and value adding member. As enshrined in the principles of Democracy, it is the right of the individual to choose whether or not to accept what the Diaspora host land has to offer.

Ultimately, it is the Diasporant’s duty to learn the ways of the new world if this is where they would rather be than their original troubled homelands. Learn the language. Language is both the key and the entry tool into workings of the mind of the Diaspora lands’ society. It will be immensely difficult to understand what makes the Diaspora host lands tick if one does not know how people think here. How do the Diaspora societies answer the Whats and Hows of existence on earth, and the universe, for example? Answers to these can mainly be found and understood through both direct and indirect interaction with host lands people through all forms of communication platforms, from direct verbal to visual media. It’s called Communication Skills.

Sadly, many a Diasporant, through fear of the unknown, perhaps; or worse, racial, religious, and cultural arrogance, as well as other petty superiority complex issues, will want not only to hang onto the non-functional luggage from their non-functional original homelands. They will even go to the extent of jumping into their own tattered suitcases, keeping to themselves and their own alone; having stopped time, living in the past, while the progressive world moves on. Such are home grown fundamentalists made. Walking time bombs of incomprehensible hate, anger, bitterness, and frustration. Losers on the loose. Smell of death everywhere. God has become blind. Initially there was a drop of blood in the one eye of theirs. Now they are trying to wash the face, clean the eyes, but they cannot see. Blood cannot wash blood away.

 

Simon Chilembo, 2014
Riebeeckstad
Welkom
South Africa
Tel.: +27 717 454 115
January 21, 2015

JE SUIS CHARLIE

JSCharlieChilemboIn a million voices
He was heard
In all corners of the world
Je suis Charlie
L’image vivante
Immortal

Silently
I hum
I am Chilembo
The written word
Indelible

My body
Shall perish
That’s the plan
My story
Shall thrive

END
©Simon Chilembo, 2015
(French language advisor: Ozzy)

 

Simon Chilembo
Riebeeckstad
Welkom
South Africa
Tel.: +27 717 454 115
January 14, 2015

 

 

 

 

38 YEARS AN EXILE: XIII

HOME AT LAST! Part 13
BRAIN DRAIN

By its very nature, life is, and has to be hard. Life is by design brutal and short. The world is an ugly place to be. It is an inherent feature of the world that evil forces will prevail everywhere, relatively more in specific areas of the world than others, in different epochs.

Nelson Mandela, PresidentThe brain is by default and function, the antithesis of all that is heinous, appalling, and abhorrent by way of human behaviour, as well as state of the world and being. The brain will, by inclination, gravitate towards all that is good and beautiful. All things remaining equal, a normally functioning and cultured brain will, as a spontaneous process, seek to create and sustain beauty and well-being against all that is anti-life, all that is anti everything that is beautiful, uplifting, and life supporting. The brain will defy pain and death in pursuit of freedom in the name of beauty and happiness, including the right to enhance the development of these at both the experiential and creative levels through the arts, as well as all forms of human expression. Ultimately, the normally functioning and cultured brain strives to find, and/ or create peace. Beauty and happiness thrive in times and places of peace.

Peace presupposes harmony, coherence, and functionality as expected of all the actors and the parts that keep it together in times and places of peace in the world. The brain thrives here. Peace enables the brain to see all there is to see of the entire spectrum of human potential, from the point of view of creativity and survival, to asking, and finding answers to existential questions of being human on earth, as well as our place in the universe. Hardly surprising, therefore, that it is in places of relative peace and stability in the world where the highest qualitative and quantitative living standards are enjoyed, characterized by long-term and sustainable abundance at both the material sustenance needs, as well as at the human creative, expressive, and productive levels. Things work here. People, and society can plan ahead in efforts to derive as much as possible of the benefits of peace, as manifest through, and by beauty; measurable in terms of how people express happiness, hope, faith, love, and trust for one another. Very little is left to chance and natural ramifications.

Where and when used as per definition of functionings of a normally functioning and cultured brain, religion and Gods will be used only to help people find solace beyond normal human capacity. In this case, religion and Gods will in fact be proponents of peace, as, indeed, the design and architectural beauty of many a house of Gods worship will attest, from Dakar to Rome. These houses of Gods’ worship have their walls adorned with some of the most endearing works of art; they have through the ages inspired some of the greatest poetry, music and songs of the world. All in the name of peace, and all that goes with it, including the natural attraction of brains from other parts of the world.

Whether by intention, accident, or pure fate, finding oneself in lands of relative peace and stability in Western Europe, North America, and others elsewhere which espouse in varying degrees and manifestations, western democratic principles of liberty, equality, and fraternity, a normally functioning and cultured brain from the African Diaspora soon gets addicted to the way of living here. Evils of the world are no longer covered in mysterious dark clouds of superstition and fear, incapacitating positive action and creativity, as well as enjoyment of life to its fullest potential. On the contrary, here, the brain is inspired and motivated to finding ways and solutions to overcome the bad and the ugly in life, as well as the world. No evil, no challenge is too big to overcome in the brain’s endless pursuit of beauty, harmony, happiness, and peace. The brain is allowed to, and must think for itself individually, or in concert with like-minded others, in order to continually find ways to keep evil at bay, with the ultimate objective of its total annihilation, eventually. The normally functioning and cultured brain is taught to understand and internalize the fact that it is responsible for its own existence on earth. It’s not about God. It’s not about ancestral spirits. It’s not about parentage. It’s not about it’s our culture. It’s not about anything, or anybody else. The brain is responsible for its own destiny, as well as the outcomes of its own actions.

So, in this climate of total independence within the set boundaries of prevailing laws of the land, the normally functioning and cultured brain from the African Diaspora will make non-coerced choices about which ways to go in its natural pursuit of attaining beauty and peace, sustained by love. Here, the brain can, and will be anything, translated in success, as may be observable through attained social status, including material acquisitions. Life is good. Life is beautiful. Share the bounty of the beautiful life in the Western World Diaspora with the people back home in Africa. Teach them, motivate them, inspire them to aspire to attuning their brains to function at the corresponding wavelengths as are characteristic of those normally functioning and cultured brains in the lands of freedom and abundance, where beauty, harmony, and peace reign supreme. If you could do it, they can do it. Job in the Diaspora done, and with advancing age nostalgia too much to bear, the African Diaspora brain decides to come back home. Point made in both worlds, but a little weary now, though still full of fire, ever driven by A thing of beauty is a joy forever.

High gates, wallsImmediate observation upon arrival at home is that beauty here seems to be an exclusive domain of a chosen few behind closed doors, in peace behind high brick walls, where even taller, thick and dark foliage forests are grown.

When dogs bark from inside these walls, people who know on the streets say the animals are so huge and ferocious you would think they in reality are lions pretending to be dogs. Top DogIn an open space just a stone’s throw away from the fortresses, domestic rubbish is strewn everywhere, including dead dogs and cats; an ugly, repugnant sight. Oppressive stench pollutes the atmosphere. Joggers and cyclists pass here every so often on any day. Nobody seems to care.
Along the streets it is lined up now perforated low quality black domestic rubbish disposal bags. Trash roadsideSome of the unsightly and stinking contents have fallen into the streets, forcing vehicles to do the slalåm as they drive by. People on the streets will tell you that, according to the local municipality schedule, the rubbish currently messing up the streets in this exclusive suburbia neighbourhood was supposed to have been collected three days ago. When it actually will be collected nobody knows, nobody cares, it seems.

Sewage canal burstIn the same area, a major sewage canal has once again been burst open. The foul odour emanating from the exposed, slow moving raw human excretion material could drop an elephant, I reckon. People on the streets tell that some herdsmen, who are not supposed to graze their cattle in this area in the first place, do from time to time destroy the sewage canal with impunity, so their animals can have water to drink. Environmental care is a foreign concept in Africa it seems. Depressing. Not conducive to normal functioning of a cultured brain honed in the Western World’s leading Diaspora lands of beauty, harmony, peace, and happiness meant not only for the few elite in the various branches of social engineering and organization, but for all, in principle.

In a confused, fuzzy state, the returned African Diaspora brain makes attempts to reclaim its space back home. Sorry, Sir, your space got cannibalized many, many years ago. New rules prevail now. The returned African Diaspora brain, long accustomed to self-sufficiency and independence of thought and action, goes knocking on many a door. Entry denied. It turns out that a major hassle is that the returned African Diaspora brain speaks a very different, incomprehensible language for the new general dispensation: New thinking, critical thinking, vision, innovation, passion, right to choose, planning, control, moderation, limits, budgets, boundaries, accountability, discipline, individuality, me first, personal responsibility, ethics, morals, personal development, health, wellness, coaching, psychology, sharing, giving, imagination, public service, philanthropy, social responsibility, environmental awareness, peak performance, caution, equality, love who you love, gay rights, tolerance, patience, celibacy, sex appeal, natural urges management, generousity, exemplary behaviour, fair remuneration, high value education, earned respect, public servant, service delivery, corporate governance, patriotism, national romantic, open world view, unity of purpose, blind faith, right to privacy, aesthetics, selflessness, play by the rules, fair play, fairness, justness, faithfulness, loyalty, principles, values, illusions of family, illusions of personal relations, illusions of religion, illusions of culture and traditions, fallacies of tribalism, fallacies of racism, future orientation, courage, wisdom, strength, killer instinct, transparency, anti-corruption, obligation to duty, life-long fitness, personal immortality, philosophy, respect, power relations, clean leadership, realism, long term view, self-denial of things, self-deprivation, saving, self-confidence, communication skills, self-knowledge, self-renewal, self-reinvention, and much more.

“Awe, mwe, Ba-Majula, yes, Ba-Chilembo” laments a distant relative from Zambia, “you have really been overseas so very, very long? It’s a shame really, that we lose so many of our brightest, and the very best of our young people to Europe and America, where they already have everything for everybody, while we suffer here back home. I hear you want to go back, is it true? You are needed here! Kwathi, mwe, this brain drain of yours, you people, …”
Ba-Chilembo replies, “Yes, I have decided to go back, Bamai. After more than one year I have failed to win many key people’s confidence with regard to my professional skills, knowledge, and potential, as well as my dreams. This is despite available documentation as to my education and experience overseas. A confidant has revealed to me that people here neither feel comfortable in front of, nor do they trust people like me. He says that people here are simply afraid of people like me. But all this confuses me because I think I am just a guy, nothing more …”

Golden faceThe confidant, a surviving childhood friend with a most fascinating dyslexic brain, had earlier on enlightened me, “You see, Sy, my brother, when local men of power look at you, they see your face as if it’s covered with gold. A face like that evokes great fear and sense of insecurity in anyone with little, or no self-confidence. This is not necessarily personal always. It’s just that people like you, who have travelled and seen the world, are perceived to be too knowledgeable, full of strange ideas, and, thus, too dangerous.

“You will recall from our Basotho oral traditions, and beliefs, that the north is a place of great mystical powers. People who came from the north were the strongest, and the most vicious warriors. Those of our ancestors who somehow ended up in the north by way of adventure, or conquest, never came back home, we lost them forever. But you went to the north, stayed there that many, many years, and have come back in one piece, with a golden face. Actually, in your case, continuing with the rationale of our oral traditions, you went to a north far more northerly than our ancestors could ever envisage. This is the north whence came the White man, who proved to be the most brutal, most destructive, and most effective of them all. He came to stay. Took not only our land, but broke us down so hard emotionally, spiritually, and mentally that millions of our people all over the world still don’t know who they really are, where they are coming from, and/ or where they are going. But you, you managed to curve yourself a little world in the north of the White man. That you are somebody out there in the still unfathomable north to many of our people, is, it will be believed, indicative of the fact that you have doubly heavy blood*. Meaning that in you flows not only the blood of the oldest people on the face of the earth, but also that of the most powerful people in the world today. Therefore, in the eyes of many of our people, you are potentially just too powerful. You are not to be trusted, even if you may go about seemingly humble and cool. True, there is a lot of ugly and bad going on here. You don’t want to complain. Get involved to change and improve things. But do be careful, the toes of evil are very long here, you risk stepping on many of them in your do-good crusades. You are alone, they are too many, and you can only fight so much, so long. If you don’t join them, then you can’t live, thrive, and prosper here”

There we go, Coconut, your brain doesn’t belong here, where beauty is only skin-deep. Brain pain rules here. Move on before darkness of the nights is forever, before cold of the winter brittles your skull. Move on before you find yourself making food like you live in the Stone Age, when brains were small. There is no electricity here. There is no crisis here. There is no urgency here.

In the beautiful, bright, and clean drains of Western Diaspora and elsewhere in the progressive world, your brain gains purity, and grows all the time. Such that when winter comes, you do see and embrace its beauty in the mountains, where you go out skiing and hiking to find peace and alignment with nature. There is electricity there, it as a basic human right and entitlement essential for all-round societal growth and development. Only big, normally functioning and cultured brains can defeat evil. The good and the beautiful is the natural destination, and home for normally functioning and cultured brains, which are themselves a sure guarantee for the perpetuation of the human race on earth.


*
Sesotho, direct translation: Madi a boima. Often used to refer to personal possession of/ endowment with supernatural powers, or protective charms, as would be facilitated by our African traditional medicine, magic, or witchcraft.

 

Simon Chilembo
Riebeeckstad
Welkom
South Africa
Tel.: +27 717 454 115
December 20, 2014

38 YEARS AN EXILE: XII

HOME AT LAST! Part 12 CITIZEN OF THE WORLD? MY FOOT!

SPECIAL NOTE: Link takes us to an article written by a frustrated young lady in Oslo, Norway, who feels she has no place to call home anywhere. Although my writing below may sound harsh, it is not personal. I am writing on the subject in general terms at her inspiration, from my, of course, highly subjective point of view. Believe me, I feel her pain, anger, and sorrow. Nelson Mandela, PresidentI am a citizen of the world is another one of those idealistic statements of which poetry and literature are inspired. I am a citizen of the world as an emotional statement reeks of arrogance, ignorance, naiveté, self-centredness, patronization, and imperialistic tendencies. You don’t go calling yourself citizen of the world simply because you don’t feel at home in your country of birth, and/ or your host country if you are an exile in the Diaspora. It’s not up to you to declare yourself a world citizen, as if the world owes you any favours, to begin with. We belong to the world, and not the world to us. You were born to the world. When you die, the world will still be here. Should the world perish, you’ll have no space in the universe, at least not in the way you know yourself today. What you want to do is, when you die, whichever way that happens, you leave this world a better place than you found it at birth. Therefore, it is the world’s prerogative only to declare you its citizen, and that not just because you are not happy with the conditions of your existence anywhere; but because you have done, you do, some kind of deed/ -s beneficial to humanity. There is no free ride to world citizenship. It is not a human right to be I am a citizen of the world just because, from your privileged position somewhere in the 1st World, you can bad-punk-style spit down upon your own, pack your rucksack, and travel the world abusing your economic, or pussy power among the less fortunate of the world because “life is so cheap out there. And, it’s ever so giving to be among poor people. They have nothing, never know where their next meal will come from. And yet they are ever so happy, hospitable, generous, and kind” Jeeezzuz, you don’t do service to humanity through enjoying living high in poverty-ridden slums and villages in the 3rd World like you were some cheap royalty member. Do something to permanently alleviate, or eliminate poverty, then, you might just qualify for the I am a citizen of the world stamp of approval. In the Diaspora, owing to the common phenomenon of paranoia towards strangers, life can be full of scepticism, lack of trust, isolation, exclusion, and, at worst, hate, as well as discrimination with all that entails. That’s just the way it is. It is not the duty and responsibility of the world to show and prove to the Diaspora that you are a normal, decent human being on the look out for things everyone else wants and needs. It is your own duty and responsibility to work to show that you deserve the love, respect, recognition, appreciation, admiration, support, and protection you so much crave for. Naturally. If you cannot get these in your home base, it cannot be easy for the world to give you, all for nothing. The world may want to make you its citizen if you take it on with the life-supporting and uplifting values and deeds you will have nurtured in/ from your home base, first and foremost. When you are a citizen of the world, you don’t go out in the world looking for love and recognition; you go out in the world to give and promote these qualities, demanding, claiming nothing in return. Just do it. You are greater than you realize. In spontaneous appreciation, then, the world will declare you its genuine citizen. But that does not mean that you necessarily have free access to all corners of the world; that does not mean that the entire world will see you in the same light. You will never be able to come banging on, and slamming any first door in the world and say, “Hello, I’m home!” It doesn’t quite work that way. Be smart, therefore. Define your world according to what values you stand for, and live accordingly. It all begins and ends with you. The moment you turn your back on your own land of birth, fleeing from injustices and oppression, as well as other gross Human Rights abuses, the bonds between your own people and yourself will never be the same again. You may be fighting a common course, but you go away, and they stay behind. You will mutually miss one another painfully. Growing up further apart with time, everyone inevitably changes. Things that held the fragile bonds together fall apart. The only thing that remains constant is common heritage. As time goes, years apart turning into decades, everyone grows up each in their unique directions. History takes different meanings to everyone. No one is ever the same again. So, after so many decades, you come back home, the land of your birth. Everybody knows, has heard of, your name, but nobody knows you anymore. Actually, nobody cares. You are not one of them, stranger in your own land. YOU have changed so much: You look different, you walk different, you talk different talk, you smell different, you eat different, you dress different, you think different, you don’t belong here, stranger. Who are you, really? What are you doing here? What do you want? Nobody wants to touch you, nobody wants to be near you; you are so very special these days. Nobody can, nobody wants to, relate to you. You thought paranoia and uncalled for hostilities were bad out there in the Diaspora, but when you experience them in the land of your birth, the land whose freedom you fought for, you know you are thoroughly crushed. Who am I, really? You ask. Where do I belong, really? You ask. Okay, I don’t feel wanted in the Diaspora, I don’t feel welcome back in the land of my birth. But what the heck, they can all go to hell, I am a citizen of the world; my home is the world now! You reason. Alas, it’s not that simple. The real world is hard by default. It’s beautiful at the core, though. You just have to know how to get there. Acknowledged, and aspirant, citizens of the world the world over don’t spend and waste time whining about how unfair life is towards them. Citizens of the world proper take the world by the horns and deal with it in science laboratories, as well as libraries of the world in an endless strive to find answers to ever challenging questions of how to make this a better world to live for all, at all levels of human endeavour. I am a citizen of the world isn’t simply a state of mind, a question of attitude. It’s about how huge personal sacrifices you make for causes meant to promote human and life integrity through struggles for, for example, freedom, which (may) have global implications and impact. Many a freedom fighter of the world has had prisons, torture chambers, and, at worst, death, as their laboratories and libraries in seeking to give meanings to the value of human dignity in freedom, justice, and abundance for all in the world. When their work is done, or still continuing, and the global significance of that is established, the world has a way of showing acknowledgement, respect, and encouragement to keep doing what you do. The latter is done through various awards of variable significances and magnitudes across the world, both at the institutional and private levels. You become I am a citizen of the world by first and foremost winning the hearts of citizens of your home base. Be a source of inspiration and hope locally first. Promote, and be a living proof of love, freedom, peace, faith, and creativity. Everyone, the world, loves a good story, anytime. If your story, the story of the good things you do for humanity, transcends your borders, and precedes you, then you are not too far from living the I am a citizen of the world reality, much to the extent that the entire free world becomes curious of, and is ever so keen to meet you in person, or even merely symbols of your good deeds, because you may not be physically enough for the world. Thus, you may become a globetrotter, a Super Star in whom, in whose works, the world can find meaningful answers to some of the most pertinent questions in/ of life. I am a citizen of the world is a function of action in relation to how, and what, you contribute to the betterment of the human condition, given your talents, knowledge and skills, tastes and preferences, wherever you are in the world, in service to humanity. I am a citizen of the world is also about “Ask not what the world can do for you, but what you can do for the world”. Humility. So, President Chilembo, what are you in this regard, then? Ahh, who? ME? Ohh, ja, ahh…, I am an Ethnic Norwegian citizen of the world with Zambian roots from South Africa! ;-)   Simon Chilembo Riebeeckstad Welkom South Africa Tel.: +27 717 454 115 December 15, 2014

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