SOULS LOST IN SPACE
In my mature age years, the one other ugly scar on my body bothers me only so very rarely. I see it every day, but I almost never notice it these days. My love in my 30s used to be fascinated by this scar, and loved caressing it with affection every so often. She would get confused when I expressed irritation at this, because it feels so very unpleasant when another person touches this scar.
Over the years, my enquiry as to how I got this scar has been answered dodgily by those for whom it would be natural to know how it happened. What I have gathered, though, is that, when I was barely 2 years old, while my parents were away on holiday, a man who had a xenophobia inspired hatred for my father struck me with a sharp object in an attempt to kill me. My resemblance to my father is very striking. I’m told that this man hated my father so much he meant that by killing me first would, naturally, make my father so angry that he, my father, would want to fight this xenophobic man. This way, the latter would then have a valid reason to kill my father also, claiming self-defence.
I do have some hazy visions of events prior to this point, but I like to set my initial world awareness juncture from my first conscious memory on my first school day when I was four and half years old. From then to about age ten, recollections of my life come to me in chunks of specific events in different times and situations. I will recall other things in occasional discussions with family and childhood friends also.
One of the things I recall very vividly from this stage of my life is the xenophobic man of hate mentioned above, making what I then considered to be a serious threat to kill me. It seems he didn’t have the guts to see things through because he attempted to kill himself first. He survived the cowardish suicide attempt because he went round the village announcing to everyone of his impending self-induced demise that particular evening. From this time till age fourteen, recollections of my life come in even larger chunks, and have more lively contents. If my memory serves me right, it must be about this time, soon after the death threat, I began to consciously wonder about things in a serious way.
I took my first sacrament at church about the same time too. The latter event may have played a decisive role as well, because I recall that, together with other children at the Catholic school I then attended in Lesotho, there was some preparatory work we were had to undergo. Whereas in the school classroom we were led by/ with “What?”, “Who?”, and “Where”, I remember coming across “Why?” and “How?” in the pre-sacrament preparatory lessons with the parish priest, as well as our very, very kind and warm school teachers, who were nuns.
From the teenage years to well into adulthood years, recollections of my life I can lump into years, seasons, months and weeks. These days, I can account for each and every day of my life. Such that should I die now, I will no doubt have, hopefully, satisfactory answers, if only for myself, to the (in any order) “How?”, “What?”, “Where?”, “Who?”, and “Why?” of my death. My soul will then rest in peace.
Had the xenophobic man who hated my father so intensely gotten to actually kill me when I was hardly 2 years old, a small child totally oblivious to the world and its ways, I imagine my soul would still be wondering erratically out in space, defiant to the earthly force of gravity. I imagine my soul would want to rather continue wondering and wondering in outer space till the end of time, not that time matters when dead, though. Who would want to return to a world that is so callous it kills cruelly, mercilessly, its children with the kind of gross impunity we see in our time? Spare me reincarnation stories, please. Tell it to holy cows somewhere.
Children don’t choose their parents; they don’t choose, when, where and how they will be born. The worth of humanity is not in how many children they breed, but how many they protect as they guide and help them to grow up to be responsible and value adding members of the global community; this, as a non-revertible human decency and moral obligation imperative.
I can’t help wondering as to how many millions of lost souls of our heartlessly murdered children are roaming the universe at this very moment. Do they even know they are dead, in the first place? Would pictures of disembowelled, charred, beheaded, limbless children’s corpses make any sense to them? How can anybody win freedom, or practice the right to self-defence and/ or self-determination at the expense of truly innocent children genuinely unknowing of the world and its ways? What do religions, what does politics of the world say of the inherent nature innocence of children? Forgive them, Father, for they don’t know what they do can never apply here, surely. There has to be other ways of solving all the major territorial and/ religious conflicts in the world today than through wars. Even if there may be places to hide when the missiles come, children just cannot run.
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July 30, 2014
WHICH KIND OF WARRIOR ARE YOU?
Many a warrior nation takes pride in their apparently major preoccupation of endless churning out of Kamikaze-like Warriors solely focused on dying for their own causes, sacrificing others of their own people in the process. Indeed, justifiable causes, in many cases.
Other nations will on the one hand do the same also, while on the other, they devote some of their time, energy, and resources to doing and making other things that contribute to the progress of, not only their own nations in isolation, but humanity as a whole. By investing in R&D projects seeking to find answers to the ever-challenging questions of how to improve the quality of life in all aspects of living for all on earth, these countries add to the knowledge bank of humanity with respect to understanding how the natural world functions, in order that life on earth can be sustained and propagated in more effective ways. These knowledge based Warrior nations also allow for growth, perpetuation, and sustenance of culture of thought around the non-material existential questions of humanity as well. Knowledge based Warrior nations add value to global society, therefore.
Even a cursory look at contemporary history will show that in times of, often unequal, international conflicts culminating in serious and sustained wars, global society, in a lot of cases led by leading and dominant knowledge based Warrior nations, will tend to be lenient towards fellow value adding nations. Doing only perfunctory humanitarian and diplomatic acts to fulfill institutionalized international diplomacy protocols, as well as treaties and obligations in relation to the weaker, non-value-adding Kamikaze-like Warrior only nations. The latter nations, nobody really cares about. More so if they also are not endowed with any natural resource/ -s the former value and need to feed their knowledge, technology, industrial, and economic needs.
Those Kamikaze-like Warrior nations neither attractive nor exciting to global capital are doomed to losing any, in the eyes of, knowledge Warrior nations, war against the latter. It’s not about fairness; it’s not about justice for either side. It’s simply about survival of the fittest all the way. Understanding skewed stalemates in some ongoing major wars in certain parts of the world today may be understood in this light, therefore.
So, which kind of Warrior are you? Which kind of Warrior nation is yours? Last time I heard that knowledge was power.
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July 27, 2014
The Side I Take
In a perfect world, and according to Gospel Chilembo, all intelligent, thinking, reasoning, rational, and knowledgeable human beings ought to know that WAR IS WAR.
The sole purpose, role, function, and intention of war are to kill. Annihilate the enemy. As true as death is the ultimate outcome of living, the first most likely to go in all wars are the most vulnerable, the least protected, and yet some of the most innocent of beings: Children, mothers that are, mothers to be, the sick, the weak, the poor, animals. These days, even world travellers, sitting enclosed in aeroplanes, and, in that environment, seemingly as innocent and unknowing of the ways of the world as children in mothers’ wombs, get shot down like birds of game in the sky. That is the nature of war. Sick.
Round negotiation and bargaining tables, nobody dies. There are no children here, there are no weak and vulnerable here; there are no poor mothers that are, mothers to be. Those who die, if at all, round negotiation tables, are simply those who are unfit and unhealthy from before.
Round negotiation tables, it is the firepower of brains that reigns. Rules are set, and are acknowledged and respected by all parties concerned: The aggrieved, the mediators, the moderators, as well as the facilitators. Sides shall give, and sides shall take to mutual satisfaction. Stalemates shall necessitate time-outs, reassessments, revaluations, including modifications of strategies and demands. Concessions shall be made till mutually satisfactory agreements and settlements are made. Reconciliation terms discussed, and agreed upon; sign mutually binding treaties. Shake hands, kiss and hug. Peace. Simple as that, surely. Easier said than done? Doable! Repeat process as long as necessary, sharpen all’s negotiation skills, respect and acknowledge one another’s reasons for demands, as well as raison d’être (history, resources, identity, faith religion), no matter how outlandish all this may seem to either aggrieved party.
Hear, acknowledge, and respect the voice of the global community. Worked in South Africa. Global institutions have been established to help unify mankind towards common goals of peace, development, and progress for all beings on earth. These institutions were established out of the humble realization that no single nation, no single human interest group on earth can tackle alone in an effective way the overwhelmingly huge challenges of survival, as well as propagation of the species on earth.
I conclude: Warmongers in/ of the world have no love for women and children. Women are women, and children are children anywhere in the world. In wars, both the aggressor and the oppressor use the same bullets, the same bombs, and the very same chemicals of mass destruction to kill innocent children and women. So, fuck wars! That’s the side I take. What say ye, God Almighty?
Recommended reading on alienation of war, breaking down the toughest of the tough, cream of the crop – Sayed Kashua: Why I have to leave Israel.
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July 20, 2014
We all have
While you last
Gold shall glitter
With or without you
Diamonds are forever
Let The Platinum Age begin
©Simon Chilembo, 16/ 07- 2014
Tel.: +27 717 454 115
July 16, 2014
RELIGION OF PEACE?
If I wake up blown up dead tomorrow, be it known that in all of my dear life, standing on African humanistic thought and philosophical platform, anchored on contemporary Western philosophy democratic thought, and spiced with Christian values defining my personal relationship to God, I lived with profound respect for religion in all its forms and manifestations. I had to. It’s because, as a free man of the world and lover of all humanity, some of my best friends, sisters and brothers of all skin colours and tones of the spectrum, were from all corners of the world, and practiced all kinds of religions; worshiping and praising all kinds creatures, spirits, and gods in many different ways. Amen.
I am deeply fascinated by religion. Mankind, the most complex, the most inquisitive creature on earth, must have gotten so afraid of what they found out about themselves that they created God. God would be both a reason and scapegoat for mankind’s actions. So, it’s okay, people will kill other people, including their very own flesh and blood for God; this as prescribed by God in relevant religious scriptures. Simple. No responsibility for one’s own actions for mankind. All’s cool in the name of God. God must be an extremely busy being, with much blood in their hands. No wonder there is so much confusion in the world today. God has no time to rest.
I am convinced that the word, and concept of, mediation ceased to exist in God’s vocabulary eons ago. If you were God, how would you deal with the following situations?
- Shouting, “GLORY BE TO GOD!” somebody blows themselves up with bombs strapped around their bodies, intently killing along many other non-suspecting people with them at the same time.
- The deceased and the bereaved will cry to God, praying that God punishes the killer with eternal fire in hell.
- Some will pray to God, asking for forgiveness for the killer.
- Others will pray to God, leaving everything by way of judgement in the already much bloodied hands of God.
- There will also be those who will pray to God, asking for guidance as they plan vengeance. When the time comes, they will also shout out even more fervently to the same God, “GLORY BE TO GOD! GLORY BE TO GOD! GLORY BE TO GOD!”
I have heard it so many times before, “Mine is a religion of peace. The question of love does not arise because how can peace exist without love? In fact, the name of my religion, translated into English, means Peace. Therefore, my religion is a religion of love of, for, and from God. It’s irrelevant to say whether or not I will love mankind. That’s all in the will of God”
However, a quick reality check on any day will show that the most ruthless and enduring civil wars in the world today are in parts of the world where the religion of peace is predominant. Moreover, many of those who profess the same religion of peace today spearhead some of the most horrendous murderous social instabilities in many parts of the world.
Retort, “But, no, you don’t understand, my friend! Those people are NOT real believers of my religion. God (Blessed be His name!) will punish them severely. There is nowhere in our scriptures where God (Blessed be His name!) condones violence and murder of innocent people under any circumstance …”
Yet, these cold-hearted killers cite from the very same scriptures to further their own causes, and they shout and yell “GLORY BE TO GOD!” to the same God of the concerned religion. Or, does the one religion have several gods with the same revered name? Retort, “No, no, no, no, my friend, there can only be ONE God (Blessed be His name!)! These horrible, evil people have not read and understood our holy scriptures properly. God’s (Blessed be His name!) word is so powerful small minds can never understand it”
There we go!
If God were a CEO, and religion a modern corporate entity, they would both have gone under a long time ago, saving mankind a lot of trouble. But then again, much like opium, religion is big business. If at all they don’t run on opium themselves, religious fanatics are as bad as the addicted. God, in this case, may be likened to a drug baron, then.
In my eyes, as an all-encompassing brand, God of the religion of peace’s image is not done any good service at all by the fanatics currently spreading waves of terror all over the world in His name. I wonder if He ever cares at all? Eternal glory be to Him? So long as rivers of blood continue to flow, I reckon. Amen.
Tel.: +27 717 454 115
June 20, 2014
Responding to Norwegian Aftenposten newspaper article:
My aunt ‘Mabatho/ Mother of The People, if, on a good day, you were to call on her unannounced in the morning, you’d find her shabbily dressed in a tattered nightdress. Her eyes will be red; face as radiant as sunset orange in the Free State veld, though. She will give you this warm hug, kiss you reassuringly on the forehead, saying softly, “Ngwanake/ My child, they were here again. Ohhh, I am so tired …”
From time to time, our family ancestral spirits visit my aunt. She says they are ever so angry and bitter at the world. They want to burn the world down for the evil on it, the evil that destroyed my aunt’s life forever. She will fight with them all night, preventing them from unleashing their wrath out on the world.
In retrospect, my aunt says her own anger and bitterness towards those who grossly abused her is not so much in their abhorrent acts, but in that they did not kill her in the process. When you are dead and gone, you don’t hear, you don’t see, you don’t feel; when you are dead, you live above morons.
In a botched (White) farm robbery in the Free State in the 1970s, my aunt, then working as a domestic maid on the farm, was severely beaten up and successively raped by 6 men, 2 Whites, and 4 Blacks. When it was understood that the police were on the way, the two Whites turned against their Black colleagues, and shot them dead on the spot. The former denied abusing my aunt, claiming that they had in fact come to defend the farm as they had earlier on received a tip-off about the impending robbery. “How can decent, God fearing boerefolk have sex with a dirty kaffir woman? We beat her up a bit to teach her a lesson never to collaborate with other kaffir criminals who come to rob our farms. We had to execute these four criminals here because their original intention was to come and kill the people of the farm. Self-defence, you see?” they said to the police. My aunt was arrested, and served 3 years in jail. It’s said the two Whites went to war in Rhodesia, and never came back.
My aunt’s ordeal was too much to bear for her husband. One day, the man decided to hug a goods train moving towards him at high speed. Pieces of his body were picked up and placed in a plastic bag as if it was meat to be fed to crocodiles.
Despite the way-out traumas in her life, without any professional help forthcoming, my aunt went on to raise her three children to decent adulthood. She makes a living of some sorts selling umqumbothi, as well as some special traditional tobacco.
This true story will make most sense, and will be familiar, to those who have felt in their flesh and bones, Apartheid in the pre-1994 South Africa, as well as other forms of institutionalized forms of racism against Black people anywhere else in the world.
When Black/ African people yell, weep and cry, laugh, sing and dance demanding recognition and respect for their feelings, as well as their sense of integrity and honour, we are doing this in the face of real injustices that have been perpetrated on and against, and upon, us for generations. It is basely moronic for some arrogant and apparently incompetently incompetent White intellectuals, academics, philosophers, and artists to want to define for us Black people how to respond to all forms of racism directed towards us, both as a global collective, and/ or as individuals wherever we may be in the world at any one time.
Africans riding on the victim role card? My foot! I, WE Black people, demand to be allowed to deal with the consequences of the historical and current racist injustices upon our own beings on our own terms. No outsider has the power, neither the right, to decide or force the healing, or lack of it, in my soul, our souls.
So, you want to joke about my skin colour? That as either an overt, subtle, or both, way and tool to reinforce, feed and sustain the stereotyping that, among others, because I am Black and African I am, and/ or shall be, intellectually and culturally inferior to White, Yellow, Green, Purple, Maroon, and other colours of the spectrum people? Your foot, then! Dignity knows no skin colour.
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June 08, 2014
THE POOR OF SOUTH AFRICA
POST 5th GENERAL ELECTIONS QUESTION: Are poor people of South Africa a bunch of fools without any aspirations for upward mobility in society? Are they just sitting there all their days in their miserable (charming, exotic, to some) townships and villages waiting for, and thriving on, handouts from the government and other benefactors? If so, then, South Africa is in deep trouble.
If things ever fall apart in South Africa, with a collapse of democracy and rise in despotism, it will be as a result of, among others, the existence of this unnatural parasitic class of poor people, as well as greedy and myopic rich people in both the ruling and economic elite classes.
Poor people are useful, easy to dupe and manipulate, only to the extent that they remain poor, by choice or through deceit, same difference.
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May 19, 2014