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SONG FOR MADIBA
SUNSET
When you are gone
I’ll still be here
I’ll continue
Where you left
Standing fast
In your footprints
Indelible
Madiba light
Will show me the way
Never been lost
Never shall ever be lost
Nighttime comes
So the Sun too can have a rest
Who is afraid of the dark of the night?
Not me
Madiba light is omnipotent
Time is nigh?
Go, Tata!
Sleep ye well!
Madiba Dance is in good hands
Please, allow me to tread your footsteps
Only then
Can I throw The Spear farther ahead
That’s your legacy
Immortal
END
©Simon Chilembo. June 8, 2013
Simon Chilembo
Oslo
Norway
June 08, 2013
Tel.: +4792525032
WALOBA AWARD 2013
E L W Chilembo, S Chilembo
In memory of my father, Mr Elias Lazarus Waloba Chilembo, I have, under the auspices of my Chilembo Warrior Moves, introduced a special award to recognize outstanding men who in their own unique ways contribute to making this a better world to live for all. Most importantly, these men will be a direct part of my life in things I do and stand for. These men will be sources of inspiration and strength who in their own special ways help me be a better person today than I was yesterday; they will be my teachers, my mentors, my guardian angels, my advisors, my guides, my motivators, my coaches, my brothers, my friends, my family. This is a very personal award, a very personal journey. The recipients will receive a signed diploma as a token of appreciation.
©Simon Chilembo. 2013
The third recipient of the award (Saturday, April 27, 2013; Oslo, Norway) is Daniel Sønstevold, Ni (2nd) Dan Black Belt, for UNDERSTANDING intricacies of power, leadership, and diplomacy. Despite his young age, Daniel is already a most significant beacon of big-hearted devotion, dedication, loyalty, tolerance, determination, empathy, passion, generousity, compassion, strength, energy, vitality, endurance, resilience, and vision of the future today. I’m proud of, and I feel truly privileged to have Daniel as a part of my life in Norway. The man is Big in South Africa, Big in Japan. I sure want to be like him when I grow up.
©Simon Chilembo. 2013
On the verge of dying, after a long series of various Ni (2nd) Dan Black Belt grading exercises and routines, Daniel demonstrates a special ability to keep it together, focus, and deliver with dignity and honour, as he goes through his kata; December, 2010, Nesodden:
Simon Chilembo
Oslo
Norway
Tel.: +47 97000466/ +27 717454115 (South Africa)
Mai 08, 2013
RAPE, AFRICANS, NIGGERS IN THE DARK.
GIRLS DRESSING TO BLAME, AFRICANS?
The Norwegian text picture above was posted on a friend’s Facebook timeline a few days ago. It reads:
- When Africans say that it’s the girls to blame for rape because they dress up too lightly/ revealingly, is it okay then to drive over a nigger because it is dark outside?
I commented, “Why should a nigger be punished for Africans’ opinions on things? By the way, what is a nigger, really?”
Her daughter responded, “Whether it’s an African or Asian has nothing to say, Simon… it’s the point which is important to grasp… not what nationality is being referred to!” … (Continued in the book: “MACHONA BLOGS – As I See It”. Order Simon Chilembo books on Amazon)
Simon Chilembo
Oslo
Norway
April 24, 2013
IJOOO…, SO YOUR CHILDREN WILL BE GAY!!!?
WHAT NOW?
I am inclined to believe that my mother was never prepared for what was to come out of her initial conjugations with my father. Compared to the overly protective manner of many mothers over their sons, I understood very early in my life that I have a very special relationship with my mother. I’ve seen her watch me fall into the deep end more than once before, without her doing anything about it. Just watching, waiting to see how I’ll deal with it.
I have never at any one point felt any sense of neglect, though. There’s something about the look in my mother’s eyes, which has always given me Samson-like strength when it seems the darkness of the deep end is about to swallow me down completely. She is my first best friend, my number one confidant.
My mother has always openly declared her love and admiration for me. She adores me. I’ve heard her many times tell other fellow mothers how proud she is of me, “… this man who felled my breasts”, because of my generousity and kindness as a son, and big brother to my two younger siblings.
Thoughts of my mother make me very strong always in this regard. She listens to me, even if she may not agree with what I have to say. I owe much of my strong sense of independence and self-reliance to her. She taught me very early to be proud of myself. Much of my need and love to excel in the things I do, and thrive in, I got from her. “O motle, ngoana’ka! O a utlwa!/ You are beautiful, my child! You hear?” She tells me she used to sing these words to me when I was a baby. Not that she’s much of a singer, though … (Continued in the book: “MACHONA BLOGS – As I See It”. Order Simon Chilembo books on Amazon)
Simon Chilembo
Oslo
Norway
April 05, 2013
LIVING IN NORWAY
MY TURF, MY RULES, MY GAME.
©Simon Chilembo, 2013
”I know you! I know about you more than you know yourself. I’ve read about you people, you know. I know your history” Oh, Jeeezuss, not another condescending fool in the 21st century!
I came to Norway of my own volition. No force, no power, no cause made it imperative for me to want to come to Norway in particular. I could have gone any where. I could have decided to remain where I was.
I left the world I knew out of a strong desire to grow and be a better human being by subjecting myself to challenges of living anew in a new, unknown environment. I chose to leave, and sacrifice, the relative safety and comforts of the world I knew, essentially to satisfy my own personal needs, ambitions, goals, and dreams.
But of course, yes, the land of my birth was a land of extreme unfairness and injustices to humanity. I couldn’t continue to live and realize myself and my full potential under the prevailing circumstances at the time I decided to go away, out in the wide, open world of endless possibilities.
I chose to leave because I felt I could better fight for change and transformation in the land of my birth as a more knowledgeable, and more cultured man of the world. Millions others chose to stay. Thousands upon thousands of these got maimed, imprisoned, and murdered. Freedom is also about the individual choosing how they want to wage their own personal, as well as collective freedom struggles. I choose to kill, rather than die for my freedom. I am no use to anybody dead. The dead are just that; dead. Subjects for myths and mystics cultivations. But they will forever remain as they’ll have become, dead and useless in practice.
As far as I saw, and defined it, then, ignorance was the root cause of all evils of unfairness and injustices against humanity. It is still my daily mission to go out and kill and destroy ignorance, promoting enlightenment in my struggle for freedom, both as an individual, as well as a member of the freedom-addicted global citizenry. Well and good if I become internationally renowned as a freedom-fighting legend. But I’m really not keen on consciously working to be a prominent face, and champion of the masses in the process. I am not cut out for it, it’s not in my chemistry; it does not resonate with my intellectual, philosophical, and spiritual make-up. There can only be so many Nelson Mandelas, as far as I’m concerned.
The hero in me breeds himself in the eyes of the beholder. I am first and foremost my own hero. If I inspire others to awaken and nurture their own heroes in themselves, then I am most happy. The scourge of ignorance on humanity is so large no hero can eradicate it alone. I will continue to fight for freedom on my own terms. Much as I live in Norway on the same terms as a free man, within the confines of the law of the land, as well as normal cultural and societal imperatives of the people of the land.
Living in Norway on my own terms means that I and I alone, am responsible for how my life shall be, and is, organized in relation to my duties, responsibilities, and obligations to both the local and global civil society, as well as to myself. I independently chose my job, my career, my business. I have, acting as a free and independent man in a free world of free individual choices, chosen to remain single until further notice.
I have freely chosen, and I choose, my friends. Those of my friends who chose me first have become my friends because I chose to accept their friendship overtures, obvious or otherwise. I have also before opened my heart to people who in time turned out to be bad influences on me. Had I known better, I would never have chosen to have anything to do with these people, for starters. No regrets though. A man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do when what’s gotta be done’s gotta be done.
Nevertheless, those who’ve messed my life up big time before must have reason to be afraid whenever they think of, or see me. I may not be vindictive by disposition, but I do not forgive. Forgiveness is for the holy and righteous. I am only human. I do not know how to turn the other cheek; I choose not to. I loathe pain and suffering when inflicted upon me, and others, out of pure and deliberate malice.
As a result of ignorant and unenlightened, as well as philosophically and spiritually vain leadership, administration, and management, even more inhuman suffering, pain, and misery are daily inflicted upon millions of people all over the world. Free people of the free world will react and respond in each their own respective ways to these extreme living and dying conditions of those most unfortunate people exposed to abysses of human cruelty and brutality elsewhere; some being more vocal, and more visible than others.
Taking sides, or being neutral; the latter being more interested in the content, principles, and ramifications of the acts of both the agents of agonies and the victims. Victims do fight back also. That’s how freedom fighters, heroes, legends, and saints are made; depending on the eye of the observer. To choose or not to choose a side, it’s everyone’s prerogative in the worlds of the free.
I, therefore, do not owe it to any one to want to overtly make noise for, or to front a cause locally or globally, just because I am successful and I live in the best and richest country in the world, and I am the strongest man I know. I am the strongest man I know in the world to the extent that I know my potential in so far as my intellectual faculties and material endowments go. All this as shaped and conditioned by the free personal choices I have made, and continually make, with regard to how I shall organize my life in my chosen style of fighting unfairness and injustice in the world.
To those ears which choose not to know how to hear; and to those eyes which choose not to know how to see, I have chosen to be a silent and invisible agent and courier of change, enlightenment, and progress to the worlds of those I am mutually allowed to touch, as a matter of both individual and collective exercise of the right to choose or not to choose, in a free world.
So, did you know this about me? If yes, then you must be God; you must be the force swimming circles in my brains, playing with my thoughts and my feelings. Do you want to take responsibility for my life? Do you want to take responsibility for the many acrimonious outcomes of the ill-guided choices I have made in my life before? Were you a part of that, to begin with? No? I thought so. Man, this is MY life! I choose and play My Games. I choose, design, and construct My Turfs. I make My Rules.
I love my lands of the free and the mighty. Imperfect and decadent as they may be in the eyes of the ignorant, who choose to be oblivious to a thing called human dignity.
Simon Chilembo
Måsøy
Nord-Norge
March 29, 2013
Tel.: +47 97000488/ +27 717 454 115
YOU GONNA FIGHT, YOU GONNA GET HIT!
WAR IS WAR
©Simon Chilembo, 09/ 12-2012
Without being judgemental, and whether or not the poor, weak, and vulnerable are so by choice or by circumstances beyond their own control, they are everywhere, like sand. Fronted by women and children, they are prolific like the stars of the universe. Every explosion collapses them into themselves, only to re-emerge with greater force by way of numbers, condition, and distribution. Poverty sucks; like a black hole.
They are by design, conscious or otherwise, ever on the frontline. Be it in times of natural catastrophes, epidemics, or wars. They are hurt before, hurt more, and die before anyone else. In hard times, only the strong, good and/ bad depending on the eye of the beholder, survive. However, the strong who are fools tend to fall in extreme disgrace in the end. That’s the way of the world.
A Tai Chi Grandmaster, emphasizing the crucial importance of minimizing as much as possible one’s own vulnerability in either or both defence and attack, once said to me, “You gonna fight, you gonna get hit!” I like reminding my Karate students that when armies go to war, they carry with them their own body bags too. Everyone dies in war; it’s only a question of time. That’s just the way it is. On either side of the warring parties, it’s invariably the innocent weak, women, and children who bear the brunt of war: Collateral damage … (Continued in the book: “MACHONA BLOGS – As I See It”. Order Simon Chilembo books on Amazon)
To the extent that wars are typically bilateral processes once set in motion, carried out in either specific zones, or spread over several geographic locations, the warring parties on either side are equally responsible for the sufferings and deaths of the innocent weak, poor, women, and children. This is regardless of the causes of, or reasons for, the wars. The moment choices and decisions are made such that military engagement becomes the last way out in efforts to solve major national, or regional conflicts, the innocent weak, poor, women, and children are already sentenced to inhuman suffering, and ultimately, genocide: Necropower … (Continued in the book: “MACHONA BLOGS – As I See It”. Order Simon Chilembo books on Amazon)
Simon Chilembo
Oslo
Norway
March 14, 2013
DO POOR BLACK MEN EVEN CRY?
Inspired by: Lynching Black Men
©Simon Chilembo, 09/ 12-2012
I had first picked it up in his voice on the phone. Calling him from Oslo at his work place in Pretoria about once a week in the latter part of the 1990s, I could hear him sounding ever more tired each time we spoke. He would of course express tremendous delight upon hearing my voice, proudly shouting to his colleagues, “My son is calling from overseas!”
When I last saw him Easter time 1996, he was as charming as ever. But he was beginning to look a little frail. And it seemed he had stopped caring too much about his hair, which he always groomed immaculately before, dying it pitch black constantly.
I was just beginning to find my way around in Norway at that time myself, and coming home to Welkom that Easter, I had bought presents for everyone. I even paid for renovation work on the family house, buying some nice furniture for my mother as well. Better times had arrived. Let’s celebrate.
Pappa would be fine, I thought. At age 63 then and still working in Pretoria, I felt it was, indeed, time for him to retire, come home, relax, and enjoy life. I would do every thing possible to ensure that my parents have a good life all their days. But my ever-resilient Pappa went back to work. His work was his life. Little did I know that it would be two years later the next time we meet again after the Easter holidays, 1996. He would be in an abattoir-like city council mortuary, lying supine in a coffin; eyes open wide, staring into oblivion. The autopsy cut sewed up ugly, unbefitting a once most elegant gentleman. In the end, we are just things, I thought … (Continued in the book: “MACHONA BLOGS – As I See It”. Order Simon Chilembo books on Amazon)
Simon Chilembo
Oslo
Norway
March 08, 2013
STILL RIVER RUNNING DEEP
STILL RIVER RUNNING DEEP
Mmamahloko1 is my name. I bear profound sorrows. I carry inside of me profuse pain. I wonder what my fate would have turned out to be had I been named Mmathabo2 instead? The lady is a factory of joy. Next life I want to return as a rose.
©Simon Chilembo, 2013
Every time I see a man split a log I involuntarily cry painfully inside. I lay there spread-eagled on my back, feeling very cold, most vulnerable and exposed like a log. As the first animal got into me I felt the axe ram into the log. A chain saw sight trembles my body so I feel as though the body disintegrates into old barks falling off the trunk of a giant tree of ages.
By the time the fifth animal got into me I was in such excruciating pain I didn’t care any more. No one held my arms or my legs stretched out any more. I felt dirty and wasted, much like a log that’s travelled a thousand kilometres down a river. It felt that overwhelmingly wet too. And the smells were the most unbearable. My vomit didn’t help much either. Each ejaculation felt like a litre of sulphuric acid pouring between my legs. My womanhood was burned beyond repair.
©Simon Chilembo, 2013
“What shall we do now?” I heard a distant voice say.
“Just kick her some more, and leave her behind this shrub here. Even if she doesn’t die, she won’t talk,” another voice said faintly.
I am not sure if they heard me. I am not sure if I did manage to utter a word at all either. But I do recall imploring them to kill me, because life is not worth living after this extremely brutal abuse. “Burn me up, please!” I begged. But I was left alone, dirty-wet, and unattractive. Unladylike. I remember deciding to die from all this.
Somehow I found myself standing in front of this massive opaque glass door on the edge of a mountain. The door slowly slid open to the side and I ran through, only to find myself running on clouds … (Continued in the book: “MACHONA BLOGS – As I See It”. Order Simon Chilembo books on Amazon)
Simon Chilembo
Oslo
Norway
February 15, 2013
DEDICATED TO CHILEMBO HEROINES, ALL MOTHERS, AND SISTERS OF THE WORLD. IN MEMORY OF ANENE BOOYSEN.
1Mahloko (Sesotho): Pain(s) – anguish – sorrow – grief.
2Thabo (Sesotho): Joy – happiness.
THE BRIDGE
©Simon Chilembo, 06/ 02- 2013
Simon Chilembo
Oslo
Norway
Tel.: +47 97000488/ +27 717454115
February 06, 2013
Simon Chilembo 