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๐๐ก๐๐ ๐๐๐ฆ ๐ ๐๐ข๐กโ๐ง ๐๐ก๐ข๐ช
๐๐๐๐จ๐ฆ๐๐ข๐ก๐ฆ ๐๐ก ๐ ๐ฌ ๐ช๐ข๐ฅ๐๐, ๐ฃ๐ฎ๐ฟ๐ ๐ฎ
I dedicate this presentation here to my late beloved mother, who died five years ago on October 7th, 2018. May her soul continue resting in eternal power. On Monday, October 2nd, 2023, my mother would have turned 83 years old. Happy posthumous birthday, Machona Mother โ Shebeen Queen dearest!
When as a child growing up in South Africa up to the age of 14ยฝ years I was in various spaces hassled for my Blackness and other envied personal attributes, my mother instilled in me a fierce sense of pride and personal integrity. She constantly told me how beautiful I was, and that, as my academic performance demonstrated time after time at that time, I was the most intelligent kid around. I believed her, and, with humility and gratitude, Iโve aimed to live her words since then: beautiful, intelligent man that thrives amongst other beautiful, intelligent people.
August month, 2023, marked the 35th anniversary of my stay in Norway. The tangible plan I had upon leaving Zambia, my fatherland, in June, 1988, was that Iโd complete the 3ยฝ yearsโ post-graduate business studies programme I had privately secured for myself, with a little help from my friends. Afterwards Iโd then move on out to the bigger, wide, wide world.
Twelve years was the timespan that I had given myself that when subsequently big and strong with an Economics PhD degree and international big business and global technocracy experience clutched under my armpits, Iโd then return to South Africa, land of my birth, and become the countryโs Reserve Bank Governor. I had the earth moving under my feet; what could stop me, then? What could go wrong?
The accompanying supportive Norwegian State Education Loan Fund scholarship offer was the first to come my way. I accepted it without second thoughts because I just had to get out of Zambia at the earliest opportunity. This was a matter of both ambition and the nearly untenable personal living conditions in extremely hard family and national survival environments at that time.
That Iโd somehow ultimately stay in Norway for a longer period, not in the least permanently, was never even an iota of an idea in my head. Dream of America calling, Baby. In January, 1991, towards the end of the business studies programme, a bureaucratic glitch led to my ceasing to receive financial support from the scholarship fund. I was left with a huge debt in tuition fees and other costs to the school. Indefinite termination of my studies at the school became unavoidable. This was the beginning of my economic dire straits that would last at least five years in this first cycle. As fate would have it, Iโd fall in love with a sweet Norwegian woman during this time.
In the meantime, I had opened and had been running two Karate schools in Oslo since my arrival in 1988. Thatโs how I got to stay in Norway to this day. Both love and Karate no longer rule my life in Norway. But Iโm still here; largely because of the joys, trials, and tribulations that the love and Karate exposed me to in the country. I experienced the joys, I wanted more and more. Norway delivered; I got addicted to the land.
I having been overwhelmed by difficult circumstances beyond my control, once unleashed, the trials and tribulations were ruthless. Under the hardships of life in Norway, Iโve seen many a lesser man from the African Diaspora spiritually buckle, fall, rise, and walk dead. All faith gone, no hope, neither mental nor physical strength left, they die. Literally. I decided that if I fall, I shall fall. But I would never die. I didnโt travel more than half the world to let problems of life kill me so far away from home. One way or another Iโd find a way to rise again; just I can breathe. I could never return neither to Zambia nor South Africa poor and without a business PhD degree. Never.
Indeed, I fell once; I fell a second time. On the third fall I lost everything, including face. My people networks collapsed. For once left alone, Rockstar popularity dissipated, I got the opportunity to be better acquainted with myself as a grown-up man. I saw clearly my dreams, my potential in life. I became my bestiest bestie. Now I know myself well. Better than ever. My self-knowledge trip gets better and better and more rewarding each and every new day that comes and goes.
I got to understand that my social survival navigator skills by way of my sellable talents may be many, but the relevant shall come forth and carry me through only specific situational needs in order to respond accordingly to given conditions in different epochs and spaces. The constant steering ethos being my personal motto of change, win, adapt, or die.
Iโve learned to change perspectives, acquire new skills sets, and adopt varying modus operandi to ensure victory in the face of adversity, no matter how long it takes. This knowledge also helps me to take to the next level what I already know and works in my favour presently. Concurrent with applicable talents, the ability to adapt to, and flow with the currents of changing or changed circumstances is a powerful tool for success for me. I have yet to die. I might talk about death on the other side, should I die.
Whilst recovering from the major fall following the devastating personal economy knock that I got from the Global Financial Crisis of 2007-2008, I had fully embraced the idea that all I had to do was to chill and wait for my next big break. I had suffered enough. I had learned more about myself and the ways of the world to know that I had to stay alert, fresh, and strong for the impending big break; whatever it would be, wherever it would take me, and whatever it would do with me.
It was a painful wait. Much reading, thinking, and writing rechannelled the emotional and mental torment to the enhancement of my creative potential as a writer. If I can read about it, I can write about it; tell a story about it in my own words.
If I can write about it, I can deconstruct it; I will better comprehend the challenges, I will see solutions. If I can write about it, I can dream. If I can dream, I can hope. My faith is shaped in the messages of my dreams. My writings tell the story that everythingโs gonna be alright ahead. Keep moving.
I have been through so many personal falls and rises that I know when an opportunity for my self-reinvention is nigh. The feeling of anticipation I get in times like these is like no other. I become larger than life in my thoughts so that when the opportunity for me to rise again arrives I wonโt lose control of my sensibilities.
Whilst I had visions of yet another multi-million-dollar international trade business venture, as the book writing inspiration suddenly revealed itself one fine morning in August, 2015, I knew that my real calling had finally come home. I got into a frenzy. Feeling like one possessed by the spirits of our greatest ever historical and contemporary world authors, I went on to write the first of my dream-of-one-thousand-plus books before I turn 100 years old.
The debut novel, When the Mighty Fall โ rise again mindgames, I wrote in fourteen days. It became about the story of my first twenty-five years in Norway presented in a semi-autobiographical, or fantasy memoir format. Intense emotions and scenes arise in the book: boundaries are pushed and crossed; limitations are overcome, people reset themselves and their lives, stereotypes are crushed. All played out by at least equally intense and exceptional characters. The book has changed my life; it has made me a better person. It started the process by which I continue to learn and understand humanity and our universe better the more I write and think, and think and write.
Working with the book from the start, and living with the variable impacts it continues to have on its readers are a constant, in real-time steep learning curve. I guess itโs a mark of a significant book when the author gets a mixed bag of strong reactions from the readers. Acquire and read the book for yourself so that you can make your own conclusions. Love or hate me as you wish; it is your prerogative in a free world. If you wish to destroy me for your hate, I wonโt take you lying on my back.
My embracing this book writing calling of mine was with a clear awareness that my works would never be appreciated by all. Iโve in my life read more than enough books to appreciate that fact well. Iโve over the years come across numerous literary critiques on various media also. What has shocked me, though, is the gross misinterpretation of my thoughts and intentions in and with the aforementioned book. This has been especially so given that it is the least expected section of my readership that has been thoroughly brutal in their condemnation of me and the book. Perhaps this makes the point for writers knowing about their actual and potential target readers. However, as for me, to the extent that I so far write personally inspired factual and fictional narratives as opposed to formal academic, or professional literature, I in principle write for myself. I could never write if I went around thinking about who my readers are, or shall be, and how they will judge my works eventually.
Working clandestinely, my aforementioned brutal critics, on utterly wrongful, naรฏve conjectures, have gone around tarnishing my reputation in Norway. People read my books. In their readings they come face-to-face with demons they conjure for themselves. They panic; lose it. They judge and punish me without a trial. Pathetic.
Because my conscience is clear, and because of my resolute dedication to growing and developing my creative writing talent and occupation to the 1000th book and beyond, the hurt and emotional turmoil I initially felt are gone. Iโm healed. Iโm strong. Iโm on the rise again, destined for higher and higher heights of success than ever. Iโve written eight more books since the When the Mighty Fall publication. Iโm on the roll; right on track. No one, nothing can stop me.
Travelling from Lusaka back to Oslo with Qatar Airways two weeks ago, it was on the first leg of the trip, Lusaka-Doha, that I took time to take a deep dive into reflections of my highs and lows in Norway over the years. I couldnโt help but dwell upon encounters with some really bad people that have always been there to hinder my climb to success in the things that I do by way of making a living in the country. The bad people were in total contrast to the loving and caring ones that I met during my short family matters visit in Lusaka, from August 20-29, 2023.
These bad people have striven to ever hamper my genuine efforts to work to be a decent human being with a well-intended commitment to my personal aspiration of adding value to society to the extent that Iโm resourceful and productive. Some have been outright about their dislike of, and disdain for me. I can live with that.
Others have turned out to be Judases in the end. A sickening lot that once ranked high as confidants in my world. These provoke my primordial survival instincts when I consider that they are ever gathering somewhere conniving to micro-assassinate me slowly. A mission I could never allow them the pleasure of achieving. Unless I am overtly potentially or actually caused bodily harm, I am not likely to resort to violence as an immediate self-preservation recourse. However, my warrior creative spirit observes, or experiences and analyses everything.
I apply different writing styles as dictated upon by the moments when I celebrate or decry events around me, both near and distant. I do the same with uplifting or destructive actions specifically directed towards me. That way I get to vent out my frustrations and anger without spilling a drop of blood. Then I can sustain my sense of personal safety and integrity in the face of adversity; irrespective of whether the adversity is overt or discreet. My words are my armour.
The poem Iโm going to read came forth during the process of thinking about the latest Judases, wolves in sheepโs clothing that have emerged with their true colours in the dark in recent years. It is a self-preservation, protest poetry piece. This poem also sets my eyes on October 24th, 2023, which will mark the fifth year of my return to Norway after a five-year creative exile in South Africa.
Aware that my enemies had already drawn their swords to slay me, I felt like I had brought myself into the mythical lionsโ den at my arrival in Oslo. But I knew I was blameless contra the enemiesโ smear campaign against me. Iโm grandson of a Daniel, father of my mother. The Biblical Daniel was โโฆ saved from lions by the God of Israel “because I was found blameless before him” (Daniel 6:22). So, Iโm still intact; standing tall, breathing happy and free, crafting words into literary expressions in my efforts to make sense of my world.
Similar to other writings of mine addressing my personal life conditions and states of being owing to simply being who I am and the personal choices that I make all the time, Iโve written the poem not out of a need to defend, explain, or justify myself. I do not seek any validation nor accolades from some Jacks and Jills anywhere either. I listen only to my teachers, to men and women of authentic benevolence: proven mediums of global human excellence, love and peace.
I primarily write to purify my soul, ease my pains, and fortify my spirit. I write as a good-intentions, free, have-no-fear spirit with nothing to hide in a free world. I feel good about what I do; I know Iโm good at it. And thatโs all that matters to me. It is what it is. I am that I am. Take me, or leave me as it is your prerogative in your free world.
I publicise my works in response to what I feel to be a higher call to share my thoughts with those that want to hear my words. This call inspires me to aspire to teach and to speak for the young, the weak and vulnerable: the afraid, the oppressed, the voiceless. That from my life experiences as lived-in moments in time. Also as learned from hearing the voices of others that are much wiser than me.
The wiser than me being my teachers across the board, including some of the most impactful historical and contemporary philosophical and spiritual wells of wisdom of the world. All from one-on-one teachings and discussions with the living, or through consumption of the wiseโ thoughts through the variety of multimedia platforms available in our times: from the written word in books, to sight, sound, and motion presentations in live theatres; on cinema, television, and computer screens.
Thanks to the power of the internet, we today have the said multimedia platforms compressed and collapsed into the palms of our hands via mobile telephone technology. Knowledge acquisition and dissemination of the same, verification of facts and propagation of truths, debunking of falsities and crushing of conspiracy theories, are all at the tips of our fingers these days. Therefore, those that manage and live their lives on unchecked assumptions; uninformed, factually fallacious decision-making tendencies do so at their own peril.
ยฉSimon Chilembo 11.09.2023
๐๐ก๐๐ ๐๐๐ฆ ๐ ๐๐ข๐กโ๐ง ๐๐ก๐ข๐ช – ๐ง๐ต๐ฒ ๐ฃ๐ผ๐ฒ๐บ
Self-made
New enemies of me
People I donโt know
Lurk in dark corners
I donโt know
Wish me dead
They donโt know
Iโm a free soul of the light
I donโt know how to hide
I donโt know how to die
Darkness cannot contain me
Invincible to eyes that see
I worry but little
Of fools groping in the dark
Hoping for a lucky strike
To annihilate me
Iโm not
In a state of war
I fear no drones
No stealth missiles threats to
My soul of the light
Defence system
My shield is
My words
I push back with
My voice
I sing one moment
I preach the next
I wail this moment
The moment I growl
Earth trembles under my feet
Self-made
New enemies of me
Faceless people I donโt know
Fools with reasons for
Enmity I donโt know
Duped in fake storytelling tales
Of witches in fright
Of demons of them
Confronting them
In the glow of light
Permeating
The darkest recesses of the universe
In fright
Fight
Shadows of themselves in the dark
Tumbling in muddy faeces
Of their own
Gathered in trenches
Of massless conspiracy constructs
Meant to implode
A free soul of the light
They cannot see
I could never collapse
Into myself
Squash me
Sprout me
As particles of
My flesh and bones
In deep waters
Delusionals donโt know
Thatโs the closest theyโll ever
Come to harming me
Envious fools donโt know me
Inconsequential foolsโll never see me
Repugnant fools embraced by
Darkness I donโt know
Darkness I donโt care about *
I cannot run away from the light
I have nothing to hide
I donโt know how to hide
I have nowhere to hide
Not even a tomb can contain me
I had to break the law
Drank and drove
For prison walls to hold me
If only for a while
Youโll never find
Remains of me
In pyramids of Egypt
In a thousand years
When I say catch me if you can
I play with words
No longer do I play with
Bloodsuckers
Stabbed me in the back
I could have bled to death
Had it not been for
The light stronger than
Enemiesโ self-consuming malice
In the dark
Resilience is the name of
Dark-hearts-impervious
Light games I play
Here I am to see
For all eyes with love
Iโm a soul of invictus
I breathe love
As a matter of course
Iโm here to stay
Longevity is the name of
My dance for life
Immortality is the name
Of my end-game
Beat that
If you can
๐๐ก๐
ยฉSimon Chilembo 11.08.2023
On the 24th of October, 2019, I wrote the following article on my private blog, chilembowarriormoves.com:
๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐?
๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐?
Sometime last year, 2022, whilst I was in the middle of working with my latest and nineth book, MACHONA GRIT โ Onslaught On Hate, I came across an Instagram reel that caught my interest fleetingly. In this reel, the speaker made fiery, disparaging, and violence instigating remarks against single men. The speaker is a prominent American religious leader whose thoughts influence hundreds of millions of people across the world. However, not all will be direct adherents of his unique religious flock within the broader global faith movement of the umbrella religion, which could be Christianity, Judaism, Islam, or any other. They all serve the same purpose: harnessing of our primitive instincts, limiting the extent to which we can think we are free-thinking, independent individuals. Religion, a tool of oppression as destructive as can be.
I choose not to name the religious leader because Iโve failed to find the said Instagram reel for a concrete reference source. Nevertheless, I have throughout all my adult life so far, come across innumerable sentiments like those uttered by the man of God vis-ร -vis men living alone without women as their marital partners.
Basically, the unmarried men hatersโ contention is that solitary living unmarried men are not real men; because they are not real men, they are anti-God, and thus they deserve to die. The unmarried men haters say that God must kill single men, and it is the duty of all married men serving God to ensure that Godโs will is fulfilled: death to the unmarried. Amen!
Itโs strange that Catholic priests donโt get married, though. Celibacy doesnโt mean abstinence. Catholic priests do get caught doing the hanky panky too. When the priests sexually abuse small boys, I wonder about where God is when all this happens. Does he turn blind eyes? In that case, God is an accessory to a heinous crime. ย
Personally, such emotional abuse and death threats Iโve outlined above are beneath me; they donโt scathe me even a single bit. Iโm sixty-three years old. Iโm single, and Iโve never been married by choice. Over the years, Iโve on various fora already mentioned that Iโm under no obligation to explain, to justify, or to defend my unmarried, solitary living to anybody. All men-of-God wanting to kill me for my choice to stay young, free, and single must just bring it on anytime. God himself is such an illusion so full of contradictions I have not time for.
For God so thrives in tyranny he made man in his, undefinable, multifaceted, illusory image. He accordingly polarized man; made man into a treacherous, murderous creature of fellow man for transgressions of frivolous, ill-defined, prejudicial so-called sins. A God of love who rules by threats and application of murder does not make sense to me.
To solve a dominance problem, brothers believing in the same God go to war against one another; as in, say, the current case of Russia against Ukraine. They simultaneously pray the same God for protection of themselves on the one hand, and power to annihilate the other on the other hand. For the time it shall take as to location of the war and the relative strengths of the warring parties, absolute mayhem, pillage, and murder could go on until the last man. Somebody might set off atomic bombs, and then weโll all be gone tomorrow. Adios, God!
Killers praising God for strength. The dying praying God for mercy. Priests praying God to receive the spirits of the dead in heaven; whilst the shredded body parts, if not ground flesh of the dead rest in eternal peace on earth fertilizing Ukrainian killing fields, if not the Congolese killing jungles. God nowhere to be seen. Not a sound from God.
No, the whole idea of the existence of an omnipresent God does not make any sense to me at all. God as an idea and a possible entity amongst us defies all logic. But, of course, his believers can have him. We are all already burning here on the hell that is planet earth, anyway. Heaven is in the minds of the free-spirited seekers and propagators of humane truths in pursuance of fairness and justice for mankind on earth.
In my countering the idea of death to men-without-women, I take the liberty to speak for the voiceless, the weak and vulnerable, the oppressed; the afraid. I do so simply because I can. I am no Messiah. I am a free spirit that scientifically knows that apart from the fundamental genetic coding that separates humans from other animals, each human being has an own unique subordinate genetic makeup that characteristically distinguishes them from other human beings. That distinction manifests itself in all aspects of being human, from state of health and its vulnerabilities to behavioural proclivities that may or may not reflect or condition our values in adulthood.
To the extent that human beings share a common physiological essence of being, it means that, although individually unique, our personal human attributes expressive traits are not finitely closed to the individual. Therefore, each our respective individual behavioural patterns, as reflected and influenced by our cognitive powers and processes, will cross, and interact with others. This is how relationships are formed, both voluntarily or through coercion. Human social organizations of all sizes and all sorts of interests, agendas, philosophies, and aspirations stem from here.
However, some peopleโs human proclivities constructs will be so incongruent from others that they cannot easily fit into any structured social organization cage reflecting certain strictly defined control and manipulative values, such as religion, political movements or orientations, marriage, and many more. These are the eccentrics, the think-outside-the-box types, the innovators, the critics who, for the good or bad, question everything.
Through the epochs, there arise, amongst others, unconventional analysts, critical thinkers, philosophers, artists of all talents, social change makers, rebels, radicals, and freedom fighters whose thoughts and actions have lasting impacts on society. So, much as not everyone can be a rocket scientist; and not everyone can be an Usain Bolt, or be a religious fanatic, not every man can want to marry, or will be married by force or hook or crook. Marriage is not for every Jack and Jill.
Marriage does not define a man. Marriage is a concept a man gets into. With or without marriage, a man is a man. A brilliant man will be brilliant irrespective of whether they are married or not. In my private and professional lives, I have come across many idiotic married men. I can write volumes about idiotic married men. But for now, Iโll reduce all that to the total lack of respect these men subject their wives to.
Married men who beat up their wives disgust me. Married men who spend minimum time with their wives but unashamedly โfโ around with other lovers and mistresses do not score high in my books. Many of these abused and neglected wives are some of the most melancholic women Iโve ever seen. In my travels around Europe many years ago, I met a grown-up lady who once said to me something like, โSimon, itโs taken me thirty years to realize that I got married to an a-hole of a man!โ
Thirty-three years later, the couple now older and even more weary of each other, their marriage is still going strong. Thatโs because, โWe are Catholics. We donโt divorce!โ
Oh, help me God!
Which reminded me of what a dear brother of mine once said to me about women who hang on all their lives to marriages with a-hole men, โAccording to our African cultures, divorce is unthinkable for many a woman. Divorce is โharamโ, you see!โ
Jeeezzuzzz!!!
Iโm not anti-marriage. Reality is that Iโm a great fan of marriage. Serious. If ever the poetโs one fine day finds me at the right time and place, I could get married at the snap of a finger. Marriage is good. That to the extent that it mutually fulfils both the conceptual and functional expectations of the marriage partners.
By the conceptual I refer mainly to the subjective sentiment of love, the feelings it induces, and the expectations and obligations it imposes on those in love. Simply because we can never read peopleโs minds, we can never know the feelings of other people, just as we can never know their expectations and self-defined obligations when in love. But fidelity and devotion are principles Iโve learned that they play an even more critical role in marriage. If these hold, marriage has chances of a long life.
Functional expectations in marriage are about the objective practicalities of day-to-day life that the married will and do encounter in their living together as a couple and, subsequently, as parents if children do come into the picture in time. Here are included aspects of family economic strength; an important consideration in the determination of how and where the family shall live. Other crucial questions to address will include division of duties in the home, management of extended families and other social relations, faith, culture and traditions, political affiliations, career development and ambitions, family wealth creation and sustenance, as well as many other practical considerations.
In my world, a marriage that fails to deliver on the mutual conceptual and functional expectations for the married couple cannot hold. It need not hold at all cost, โharamโ or no โharamโ. Marriage is not supposed to be an institution reminiscent of slavery. Neither is marriage supposed to be an institution of permanent dependency of women to physical-emotional abusive men.
Marriage is not an institution carved in stone. In any case, marriage is not an inherent feature of being human. Marriage is but one of many institutions man-created for purposes of social order maintenance, or social engineering. I fail to see how a non-functional, degrading marriage can contribute to social order. This brings forth the element of divorce, of which Iโm as great a fan too. Whereas, indeed, marriage is good, divorce liberates. If ever I do get married at some point in the future, Iโll be the first to file for divorce as soon as I detect irreconcilable dysfunctionalities in my marriage.
People that are deeply in love, and wish to be together for life often look forward with glee to getting married. The same enthusiasm could be shown for impending, or desired divorce from a bad marriage. Women must not be afraid of divorce. Thereโll always be a better, stronger, and more caring man for a lover or new husband according to what civil status the divorced woman wishes to have. Itโs ok to be single also. Again, in both my private and professional lives, Iโm familiar with divorcee women that live happily ever after; divorce having given them a chance to pursue new paths towards fulfilling and sustainable self-reinvention efforts.
Some of the happiest men I know are married. Equally, thereโs a hell lot of infectiously happy single, unmarried, never-been-married men I know. Of course, contents of the happiness baskets vary from the one man to the other man, regardless of civil status. Nevertheless, happiness is happiness. Happiness makes for a balanced, productive citizenry.
Conversely, the unhappiest, loser types of men I know, and have known are, or have been married. I have in my time come across extremely lonely married men. Weakened of spirit, and hoping to find happiness and comfort away from their wives, many of these sad married men are prone to extremes of costly promiscuous tendencies. Some end up falling prey to alcohol and substance abuse, with potentially dire consequences. Suicidal tendencies are not uncommon here. So much for marriage as an instrument of social cohesion. There absolutely are other ways to prove that a man is a man and worthy of societal recognition as such than apparently โfโ-ing around and holding women in the bondage of dehumanizing marriages.
I pity men that get into and remain in unhappy marriages for โreasons beyond my controlโ: family and/ peer pressure, โthat is what people doโ, children, potential impoverishment through loss of accumulated wealth to the ex-wife in the event of a divorce, and other reasons.
It ought to be a given that nation states will strive as much as it is humanely possible to create all necessary conditions for a happy state of existence for the people. The various social interests organizations prevailing in society are there to ensure that the state lives up to its obligations for the people. This is what social justice work is about.
Itโs not up to social interests organizations leaders to arbitrarily judge and condemn to death certain categories of their fellow citizens for being non-confirmatory to fluid social conventions such as marriage. Single, unmarried, and/ or never-been-married men deserve to live life to its fullest potential just like everyone else. Jesus was killed for other reasons than for that he was unmarried.
And talking about God, biographyonline.net says, โSwami Vivekananda, [a] spiritual teacher and important figure in Indian renaissance of the late nineteenth century. A great believer in the virtues of celibacy [says] โIf one wastes the most potent forces of oneโs being, one cannot become spiritual. All history teaches us that the great seers of all ages were either monks and ascetics or those who had given up married life; only the pure in life can see God.โ
Furthermore, biographyonline.net says that โNikola Tesla was a unique inventor who threw himself into discovering new advances in electronics and science. He had no interest in marriage and saw sex as a distraction from his lifeโs purpose. A famous actress of the time, Sarah Bernhardt, tried to attract him, but, he merely saw her as a distraction. When asked about marriage, he replied: โI do not think you can name many great inventions that have been made by married men.โ
WHEN THE MIGHTY FALL ON MARRIAGE
From my debut novel, WHEN THE MIGHTY FALL โ rise again mindgames Iโll read a passage on marriage. That is from p. 63 to p. 66:
โPeople get married for a myriad of reasons. There are some who seem to have gotten married not knowing why and how it began at all, though. They just found themselves in it. Trying to make sense of it all with time, they simplistically and conveniently conclude that, well, everyone else does it, why not them?
โCulture and social norms dictate it, they shall reason. Inevitably they make a mess of it, making life extremely miserable for themselves, their marriage partners, as well as everyone else who has anything to do with them in about all aspects of life. Many a person in this category marries themselves into murder and suicide, the ultimate tragedy of marriage.
โMarriage is another unnatural institution the functionality of which is a non-ending attempt at structuring, engineering, and regulating instinctive, natural human behaviour in certain predictable directions. If it is instinctive, it happens freely according to its own predetermined, internal logic, irrespective of whether external factors are conducive, congruent or not.
โFrom society to society, culture to culture, marriage rules determine how many marriage partners one can have in either direction, how often, when. The rules will also specify rituals to be followed in order to sanctify the coming together of people in marriage.
โSanctification of marriage is enforced through the morals and ethics around it, particularly with respect to aspects of fidelity, respect, trust, duty, and obligation. Meaning that, in a perfect world, once bound in and by marriage, people ought to be together for life; thereby ensuring order, stability, and harmony in society.
โMarriage defines boundaries and territorial integrities of the married, and their subsequent family units. These have to be acknowledged and respected in order to provide for peaceful co-existence, as well as orderly and systematic growth, progress, and development in society.
โPerhaps an often-overlooked function of marriage contra instinctive, natural human behavioural tendencies is the population growth control aspect of it.
โWithout the perceived and learned value of marriage as a behavioural moderation institution in societal functioning, society would be thrown into total chaos as humans respond unrestrained to instinctive, natural urges of sex, and sexual reproduction.
โJealousy, power, domination, and control inspired violence in the competition for partners towards letting out, and responding to the said instinctive natural urges would be the order rather than the exception for collective human existence.
โWithout the rigidities of formalized marriage rules with respect to family expansion by way of conception, birth, and raising of children, human population pressure on planet earth and its limited resources would most probably be of magnitudes much higher relative to what the situation is today. A recipe for the eventual extinction of the human race on earth due to, among other things, territorial wars making what the world currently experiences of regional wars look like a childrenโs Sunday picnic in the park.
โMarriage is, therefore, some very serious business. It is not for the non-thinking, and faint-hearted.
โFor marriage to work for the married, or yet to be married, and therefore be beneficial to society, people have to fully understand its implications and ramifications. Irrespective of the reasons, or circumstances leading to marriage, it is of vital importance to understand and acknowledge that marriage is ultimately a personal journey.
โIts life-changing implications are huge, they can never be overestimated. Life is never, it will never be the same once married. Chances of marriage being a lasting success are higher in cases where the process and the institution are congruent not only with the feelings of the concerned, but also their beliefs, faiths, values, hopes, dreams, and aspirations, among others.
โPitfalls of marriage are many, deep, and wide in cases where people unwillingly, or uncritically, fall into the trap by marrying to fulfill expected conventional behaviour. The latter may be in relation to culture, religion, life circumstances, and peer pressure.
โMarriage stands chances of going the distance to the extent that it is both a mutually voluntary, as well as a well-thought-out space of the most intimate of human interactions to choose to venture into.
โThere are those who shall base their marriages on love. They deeply love one another above anything or anyone else on earth. Marriage will, therefore, be a natural consummation of that love. But love alone is never adequate to sustain a marriage.
โLove facilitates, and spices up marriage; it does not make a marriage. Love is the key to a potential marriage partnerโs heart. Love is a ringing bell into another personโs, a potential marriage partnerโs, life. To be sustained and sustainable, love itself needs tender loving care. But it cannot on its own guarantee a happily-ever-after life of marriage.
โTo the extent that in many a perfunctorily functional marriage, love may not be the driving force, love and marriage can be mutually exclusive in the same space. Trouble in paradise.
โThere is, there will always be much love to get outside marriage. As a natural instinct, people will always know when they are in love or not. Love instinctively gravitates towards love. If there is love in marriage, chances are that the marriage can be kept together.
โLove is a natural force of emotion that knows no colour, race, religion, or creed. Because it is a vital part of, but larger than marriage, any marriage the importance of which is attached more to man-made concepts of culture, religion, and other social conventions than love is doomed to failure.
โThe natural urge to want to feed love with, and on love, is ever so strong that people in miserable marriages will as a matter of course and natural predictability go out to look for love elsewhere. That done with either open defiance, or total discretion to the extent it will last. In many cases, this will turn out to be a direct order for the ultimate tragedy of marriage.
โReality is that when a supposedly unfaithful marriage, or romantic, partner is dead, they are dead, and they are so with all the things the murderer demanded; they will never come back. Much as when the supposedly betrayed marriage, or romantic, partner has committed suicide, there is no knowing that they will find what they demanded of their partners on the other side.โ
Thatโll be it for today. If you want to get married, do so and be happy; only if the matrimony meets your conceptual and functional expectations; not forgetting obligations to yourself as a person and as a matrimonial partner. If the marriage doesnโt work, get out of it. Fast. The paradox is that youโll never know if your marriage will work or not until youโve gotten into it first. If it works, it works. Well and good. If it doesnโt work, it doesnโt work. Leave.
Divorce might cost you a lot of things in the beginning. It is what it is. Freedom doesnโt come cheap. Hang in there. Have hope. Keep the faith. The future is bright. Time heals. Make it your goal to live long enough to see the good that the future has in store for you.
SIMON CHILEMBO
OSLO
NORWAY
July 03, 2023
๐๐๐ ๐๐ ๐.๐.๐. โ ๐ ๐๐จ๐๐ฆ
REST IN POWER
๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐
I never got to know AKA personally. Other than via his multimedia presence, Iโve never seen him live even at a distance. Neither do I personally know any of AKAโs family members, friends, colleagues, and others that closely connected to him. My tribute to him is unsolicited. I publicize it with only the best of intentions; in admiration of yet another gifted, inspirational artist gone too soon. Had I had blood children of my own, some of them would have been about AKAโs age. The sadness I feel about AKAโs demise is not only of a fan or from a creativeโs perspective, but of a man with much intrinsic paternal instincts sentiments also.
People die all the time under all sorts of circumstances. The thought of hundreds, if not thousands, of people dying daily in the ongoing Ukraine war, stupefies me. Starting with my mother in October, 2018, in the past four years since I returned from a five-yearโ stay in South Africa, 2013-18, there has been a significant number of deaths in my family and friends circles in both the already-mentioned, Zambia, other parts of the world, and Norway. This has been an emotionally challenging time in that regard. But no fuss.
A total stranger of a colossal socio-cultural influence at a global scale dies, and everyone near and far makes a fuss. Cynics look and rebuff, โWhat the โ๐ฆ๐งโ is this? Some famous person dies, and the whole world is out on tantrums. And yet, right within our midst, ordinary people die under the worst of human conditions every day. Some die in solitude only to be discovered years later. Nobody raises even an eyebrow. โ๐๐งโ the famous! โ๐๐งโ the rich!! โ๐๐งโ vanity worshippers!!!โ
When I fuss about AKA or some other phenomenal global socio-cultural personalityโs demise, itโs not so much about the person and their riches. Itโs more about how outcomes of their works impact, or have impacted me as a creative and one who is ever drawn towards beautiful, uplifting material and conceptual things. All the better if Rock Starsโ human values can be appreciatively compatible with mine. When people like these die, circumstances, age or time, and space regardless, I am ever reminded of my own vulnerability and mortality. It is a humbling experience.
I fuss as a means to confront and work with my fears in the face of my smallness against creation and my fate. Hoping that I shall succeed in living every day of my life as a decent human being inspired, imperfections granted, by lessons learned from the observed deeds exemplified by dearly departed. Deep felt condolences to AKAโs family, friends, colleagues, fans, and all others that value his work and humanity in South Africa and worldwide. May His Soul Rest in Eternal Power!
SC. 03/03-2023
In my books
๐๐ช๐ด๐ฉ, ๐ข๐ฃ๐ข๐ฏ๐ต๐ถ ๐ฃ๐ข๐ง๐ข ๐ฏ๐ซ๐ฆ
Like they never had meaning
No value
Thatโs ๐ฏ๐จ๐ฐ๐ฃ๐ข
My life stories
Are rooted
In the land of my birth
๐๐ป๐ข๐ฏ๐ด๐ช ๐ง๐ฐ ๐ด๐ฉ๐ฐ
Made hell on earth
Where at a
Blink of an eye
People fall and die
Daily
Like we are all
Bodies of houses of cards
Trivialized
From one game of cards
To the next
Gambling
With our lives at stake
Souls made cheap
Like we have no meaning
We have no value
When blood is ink for my pen
When each Word letter
On my computer screen
Streams blood Perfect
Sure as bullets in guns spell death perfect
People in my books
Canโt help but die
In the reality of murder
Executed perfect
As a tool for
Settling scores
Eliminating enemies
The detested
The envied
Disruptors
Troublemakers
Call them rabble-rousers
The corrupt and Rock Stars alike
Thinking that people exterminations
Solve problems in the living
Good riddance
As in books
Where people die on the one page
Forgotten in
Storylines on the next fiction page
People never learn perfect
Next chapter
Enter the police
Storylines change
Exonerated or
Guilty as charged
Closing chapter
Vengeance looms in
Urban jungle law
Last chapter open
Infinite
Another body of many
Shall bite the dust
All tomorrows ahead
Born naturally
Destined to perish
Due to
Unnatural death causes
In the hands of
Natural born killers
Hitmen dying as they lived
Life and death
Humping and bumping
On the circumference of
The circle of existence
To the extent that
We can breathe
Smell
The Rands and the Nairas
I dip my pen in blood
Blood smudges my writing papers
Sight of words
Weeping blood
On my computer screen
Hard to bear
Been too many deaths lately
๐๐ณ๐จ๐ฉ, ๐ฏ๐น๐ณ๐ฉ๐ฉ, tell me something new
In the world of the living
My new book
Says to give it a break
In the dead silence
Of my solitary work space
I breathe
Something
Finer than thin air
Oxidizes my sorrow
Slow
I feel peace
Inside
Outside
All over
If there was a time for me to get hit
This would be it
Iโd die without a pain
No complaint
No resistance
Stoicism in death
Waste of yet
Another fuckinโ life
Shoot-to-kill slain
In broad daylight
The Rands and the Nairas
Donโt matter no more now
The greenback
Going to America
With Nyovest
Leaving ๐ฎ๐ข๐ญ๐ฐ๐ฎ๐ฆ alone
Mahotella Queens wailing
Work for your money, son
Cease criminality
American guns shoot
Numerous folks at once
In the hands of one man
In eyes-wide-open
Prejudicial fellow humanโ slaughter
Whereas methodical knee-on-neck
Executes
One man at a time
On the street
In full world view
Under the sun
Just an aside
Dark clouds
Looming over
๐๐ป๐ข๐ฏ๐ด๐ช shall never die ๐ง๐ฐ ๐ด๐ฉ๐ฐ
Eskom the loadshedder ainโt no accident
We canโt hide even in the dark
And then
I hear a voice in a song
Do the rap lines
๐๐ฐ๐ฆ๐จ๐ฐ๐ฆ ๐ด๐ฌ๐ช๐ฆ๐ต ๐ฎ๐บ ๐ท๐ข๐ฏ ๐ข๐จ๐ต๐ฆ๐ณ ๐ข๐ง
๐๐บ ๐ฅ๐ช๐ฏ๐ฌ ๐ฉ๐บ ๐ช๐ด โ๐ฏ hero
Thinks them reduced me
To worthless
House of cards fallen apart
Them donโt know
My center holds
Which is all I need
To root me
Six feet under
For me to rest in power
For my spirit to soar
Higher in the sky
Than in my living days
Check it out
Iโm on billboards
Now
Larger than life
Ever
My arms open
To the heavens
All eyes on me
As ever
Your storyโll be over soon
One way or another
No billboards for you
No smartphone screen saver pics of you
Pages of your story bookโs
Gonna burn
In every ๐๐ป๐ข๐ฏ๐ด๐ช home ๐ด๐ต๐ฐ๐ท ๐ด๐ข ๐ฎ๐ข๐ญ๐ข๐ฉ๐ญ๐ข ๐ง๐ฐ ๐ด๐ฉ๐ฐ
๐๐ฆ๐ญ๐ค๐ฐ๐ฎ๐ฆ ๐๐ฐ๐ท๐ฆ๐ณ, ๐ฃ๐ข๐ฃ๐บ
Going out of fashion
But for Eskom
From Cape Point to Beit Bridge
Ethekwini, I donโt wanna talk
All flames on you
Supa Mega is
Forever mega
Ainโt over
Till youโre over
Yโall haters
The mikeโs dropped
Peace
END
ยฉSimon Chilembo 19/02-2023
๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐
Living in the Now
I donโt live
On past glory
Past glory is what it is
Done
Dusted
Trashed
Buried
Closed chapters
Unforgettable
Crystalized
In my songs
History
For posterity
Education
And they
Detractors
Donโt understand
How it is
That I can rule today
Despite their throwing stones
At me everyday
They thought
They knew me
During my glory days
They canโt figure out
Whatโs become of me
When they expected
Iโd vaporize
In lustreless
Post-glory days life today
Them
Pathetic dimwits
Thinking they are
My redeemers
When even
Jesus ainโt my cuppa tea
I sing Hallelujah
Only โcause
It is a beautiful song
Written by a human
Out of human experience
It kindles
My glory
Which comes from within
Iโm smooth
I shine
Iโm glass
Reinforced
Animosity might rattle me
I wonโt crack
I wonโt break
Iโm black
Iโm bold
I glitter
Iโm diamond
Iโm gold fortressed
Amalgamated
Iโm steel
Stainless
Dirt donโt sit on me
Animosities bullet-proofed
Stones might hit me
They wonโt punch holes
Through my skin
They wonโt cause me harm
Hate war machines might strike me
I wonโt crack
I wonโt bend
I wonโt fall
Glory days might come and go
True to form
Constant
My presence shall beam
Irrespective of time and space
Indomitable
When it is
My time
To grace
My space
Which is all times
All places I stand
Glory is my gift of life
For life
And they
Haters
Will never understand
How it is that
I fear not the future
Faithful to my fate
I have nothing to hide
Never had
Iโm an open book
I walk my written words
Thatโs my nature
True to my name
Writingโs on the wall
Expository
Glory days
Spill the beans
In more ways than one
Itโs only a matter of time
Bring it on
Alert
When they appear tomorrow
Them the haters
Iโll see them from afar
Fazed
They donโt know
They donโt know me
Theyโve never known me
Theyโll never know me
No love lost
Resilient
I live my life today
For future glory today
Thatโs life worth living today
Elixir of life
Any given day
Glory
Hallelujah
Praise be to
Immortality
Living hard
Living tough
Living strong
Today
Crush me if you dare
๐๐๐
ยฉSimon Chilembo 30/11-2022
๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐. ๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐.
๐ก๐ข ๐๐ข๐ ๐ ๐๐ข๐ฅ ๐๐ฅ๐๐๐๐ง ๐ ๐๐ก
๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐, ๐๐๐๐๐ ๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐ ๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐ ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐ ๐๐๐๐?
Question asked by confidants, cynics, and the disdainful alike. To the extent that the current existential reality of the world, and that of myself as an individual remain unimproved, Iโll stay in Norway. I couldnโt live in Africa. Suffering from chronic post-colonialism Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD), Africa is a place just too messed up for me. Iโve lost all hope for the future of Africa as a progressive, equal geopolitics partner.
Acknowledging the presence of exceptional individual African minds; also, the potential of imparting good citizenry awareness to children and youth, my hope is not really totally lost. Addressing the attendant transgenerational trauma with a view to healing it is a long parallel process.
Were I to be a national political leader in Africa, Iโd become a tyrant overnight as Iโd be brutal against the corrupt, incompetent, and insolent ignoramuses. I rather prefer working at the grass-roots.
SIMON CHILEMBO
OSLO
NORWAY
TEL.: +4792525032
09 September, 2022
๐ข๐ก ๐๐๐ข๐ฅ๐ง๐๐ข๐ก: ๐ฃ๐๐ฅ๐ง ๐๐
ษชษด๊ฐแดสแดแดแด ๊ฑแดแดษดแด แดษด แดกแดแดแดษดโ๊ฑ ๊ฑแดxแดแดส สแดแดสแดแด แดแดแดษชแด แด สแดแดสแดส สษชษขสแด๊ฑ
I came to the world via South Africa, where I spent the first fourteen-and-half years of my life, June 1960-January 1975. As I get older and older for each new year that comes and goes, the impact that growing up in that country has had on my fundamental views of life becomes ever more glaring. That as I strive to make sense of the multitudinous manifestations of horrendous sociological choices outcomes in the world today. In that sense, I was born at the right place, in my time.
The horrendous sociological choices outcomes I mention above arising from apparent mental derangement states in which some of our national and global political leaders thrive as they pathetically engineer society to perpetual dysfunctionality. They think out, formulate, and work to impose outrageous rules and laws that are obviously detrimental to the well-being of society. In fact, these lunatics present an existential threat to human and other life on earth. This as evidenced by national social upheavals owing to ever degenerative leadership quality across the world.
Social collapse attendant to dominant degenerate ethico-political leadership characteristically culminate in civil and international wars, ill-management of potential and actual natural catastrophes, including pandemics. The current Covid-19 pandemic is supposed to have given the world a wake-up call. Of course, this is an outlandish idea to many a national-global leader, and, not in the least, a segment of the new socio-cultural influencer class at the same scale. The latter extensively prevalent in the vast and ever so rapidly growing internet social media platforms sphere.
In the world today, Rocket Science knowledge is not a pre-requisite for the ability to pinpoint where on the globe the scum of society are all out to deprive people of the right to live free and happy in the abundance of survival resources existence provides for all. Itโs all on Google. Itโs all in the news. If you read and/ listen to conspiracy theories news publications, you are no different from the scum of the earth. Wretched souls beyond redemption. Shame.
Growing up in South Africa, I was from an early age mentally conditioned that I might at some point have to sacrifice my schooling opportunities for the benefit of my younger sister, Sisi. Prime assumption being that misfortune could somehow befall my parents. In that event, they would eventually fail to finance my siblingsโ and Iโs education, caught up in the doldrums of endemic Black South Africansโ poverty-stricken existence.
Seen from a global human perspective, parenting and all that it entails is what it is by default. It is not my intention to want to trivialize the challenges of parenting elsewhere. But parenting in the then inherently doomed, dysfunctional, systemically racist Apartheid South Africa was an arduous, unpredictable endeavour for Black people: unemployment, disease, violence, rampant sudden death. Other than the new faces on driversโ seats of post-Apartheid South African socio-economic transformation state machinery, not much has changed for the masses of the underprivileged in the country, though.
It was never difficult for me to understand that in the event that some tragedy would befall my parents, especially my father, Iโd have to stop schooling, go find work, and earn some money to continue where theyโd have left to financially support the family. The idea that Iโd defy the misfortune fate of my people had already been long engrained in my head. Therefore, it wasnโt accidental that my mother encouraged me to earn my own pocket money by selling oranges on the streets during school holidays. I was ten years old the first time. Three years later, 1973, I landed my first ever formal employment job as a junior waiter at a then Whites Only Italian Restaurant in my hometown, Welkom.
Iโm still alive. With variable rates of success over the years, I have lived to fulfill my obligations as a supportive elder brother to my two surviving siblings from my mother. Owing to circumstances beyond my control, I havenโt been able to be there for my half-siblings from my fatherโs other procreative endeavours exterior to my mother, prior to or after their marriage.
Any fool ought to know by now that education is a historically powerful facilitatory tool to appreciable degrees of progressive participation in, and gain from socio-economic activities of our modern, digital age global society. Indeed, some guys with all the luck and some other special attributes will become economically and politically high and mighty without having gone far by way of academic education attainment. These may or may not be partners in crime vis-ร -vis upliftment or destruction of society.
The unabashed manifestation and relentless growth of misogyny in the later years of my life boggle my mind. Thatโs because I grew up aware that upon having weighed the options in time, it was a trend in my neighbourhood that priority was given to pushing girls to acquire as much education as possible. The girls could be nurses and teachers when grown up. Costs of more specialized education in medicine, engineering, and other such related fields of academic or professional training were prohibitive. This fact, combined with generally demotivating Apartheid state policies towards Black education, created a major barrier for my peopleโs pursuit of higher education ambitions.
It made sense to empower girls because, ideally, they grew up to be mothers of the nation, starting with their respective family units. An educated girl subsequently getting married to a well-bred young man was worth gold to her family. In my then communityโs perfect world within the context of the imperfect Apartheid world then, boys having sacrificed their own education for their sisters could always come back and continue schooling once their sisters had at least completed pre-university studies. If the plan didnโt succeed, the boys would simply continue working, get married, have children, and see the latter go through the same cycle of sacrifices with little prospects of sustainability in practice.
From my generation in my childhood neighbourhood in Thabong, Welkom, I donโt know of even a single girl that ever obtained at least full high school education level. Although possibly true in some instances, this is not necessarily mainly a result of family economic constraints nor personal cognitive inadequacies.
My only concern, if not fear, about the idea of me delaying my academic advancement for my younger sisterโ sake was the potential of her getting pregnant whilst still at school. In that case, thatโd be the end of dreams, for both of us, of a better life derived from well-paying jobs education aspiringly led to. Experience showed that once the boys entered the labour market, not many ever got the opportunity to continue with their educational ambitions later on as life progressed.
If anything, the boys would also soon make other girls pregnant and then get caught in the trap of lasting poverty as they get overwhelmed by economic hardships of their own. Paradoxically, once a young girl got pregnant, that was it: she was finished. No more school. Never. As a general observation, which to a large extent remains true to this day, early-age pregnancy totally destroyed girlsโ lives. The situation would be worse if the impregnator refused to take responsibility for looking after or supporting the immature mother-to-be.
My mother-tongue, Sesotho, is the most disparaging, derisive language I know. In Sesotho, a young girl getting pregnant is described as โo senyehileโ. It means that โshe is destroyedโ. And sheโll be treated as such by both her family and the community. Sheโs brought shame not only to the family but everyone around her. At worst, sheโd be treated with much disrespect. Boys and men now seeing her as cheap, and, therefore, reduce her to a readily available sexual object moving forward. Consent not a concept adhered to by the male sex predators in this case. Many a girlโs life has been destroyed this way, culminating in suicides in the extreme.
โO ntshitse mpaโ translates as โShe has taken out the stomachโ. Abortion is described as โHo ntsha mpaโ in Sesotho, therefore. Graphically, โHo ntsha mpaโ as a process means โto remove the stomachโ. Consequently, Iโve since my childhood days associated abortion with excruciating physical pain for the girls concerned. As I grew older in my mid-late teens, I began to be cognizant of, and think independently on ethical and moral issues. It was at this point that I concluded lastingly that regardless of the circumstances prevailing around a pregnancy, it must be an extremely tortuous decision for a woman to choose to terminate it.
As a firmly held philosophical stand-point, I concluded that it took much resolve and courage for a woman to choose to endure the physical and emotional pain that abortion necessarily entails. This is one area in which I feel and think that women manifest magnanimity deserving the highest and unreserved admiration. To force a woman to carry to the full a pregnancy thatโs uncontestably detrimental to her physical and mental health, if not life-threatening, ought to be the crime.
Abortion as a medically defensible procedure to safeguard and enhance the well-being of women in the living ought to be a right understood from a womanโs perspective. Stupid old men who have no practical idea at all about what it takes and feels to be pregnant and subsequently give birth must stay out of promulgating laws that interfere with womenโs sexual reproductive health rights. Anti-abortion women dancing to the tunes of stupid conservative old and young men are traitors against their own kind. These women need help. When one woman appallingly postulates that another woman can opt for abortion at the point of actual birthing, it suggests some serious mental imbalance issues. Another one is about women aborting children already born. Jeeezzuzzz!!! ย
SIMON CHILEMBO
OSLO
NORWAY
TEL.: +4792525032
July 25, 2022
๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐
๐๐ก๐ข๐ญ๐ ๐๐ฎ๐ฉ๐ซ๐๐ฆ๐๐๐ฒ ๐๐ฅ๐๐ฉ๐ฉ๐๐ ๐ข๐ง ๐ญ๐ก๐ ๐ ๐๐๐
Look to Ukraine War 2022
To see
Ukraine people tearing
Replacement Theory apart
In practice
The last of
European fascistic scum falling apart
Replacement assumes plunder
Predicates
Displacement carnage
Genocide
The last of
European American fascistic scum
Daily murder Black descendants
Ancestors of whom
Got displaced from Africa
Got placed into slavery in the Americas
Thirteen million of them
Two million of whom
Became meals for
Sharks of the Atlantic
African prosperity halted
With the gap of the loss of
Bodies and brains
Replaced forever by
Poverty and misery
Disease scaling the cake
Dysfunctional states
A legacy
The Democratic Republic of the Congo
But one case in point
Gory Leopold of Belgium
Exterminated ten million people
As if they were flies here
Numerous others left with
Amputated limbs
Setting standard for
Sierra Leoneโs Charles Taylor
Decades later
Rwanda genocide
Shocked the world
Historically objectively viewed
Replacement Theory
In practice
Gave us colonialism
Gave me Apartheid
As welcome to earth present
In South Africa
Displaced
My motherโs people
From their land
Subjected us to
Poverty-driven subservience
Decimated us
Denied us the living
Opportunities for
Human potential maximization attainment
Replacing our human worth
With
Systemic racism oppression untold
Supremacist repressive methodologies
Blue prints perfected here
Apartheid a fascist catchphrase
These days
If you ask me
Five-hundred years later
Iโm in Europe
Begging bowl
In my hands
โ๐๐ข๐ฏ๐จ ๐๐ช๐ฌ๐ฆ ๐๐ฆ๐ฏ๐ค๐ฆ!โ noose
Around my neck
Waiting for me
To take just one misstep
To lynch me
Survived
Have I already
Several a
Direct killer attempts
Me simply doing
What I gotta do
To be a decent human being
Everyday
Tailing after bounty
Stolen from my ancestors
Meanwhile
Hangmen-in-waiting
Scandalize my name
Already stabbed me in the back
That notwithstanding
Still standing
Stepping forth up-and-up
I can breathe
In America
Survivor posterity of my ancestral roots
Defy the highest odds
Living from day to day
Ever in search in the heavens
For reasons why
The colour of our skin
Is such an abomination
If there is a God
It is not for
People of colours
Children of the indigenous
Inhabitants of the
Americas land masses
Daily decry
Genocide of
Tens upon tens of millions of their ancestors
Fifty-six million perished
In the first one hundred years
At the hands of European scum settlers
Next time you see
The pre-match Haka
Do discern All Blacks
Souls of the Mฤori bemoaning
Replacement from their ancestral lands
In New Zealand
The Wallabies are no consolation
For the Aborigines
Replaced from their
Ancestral procreative spaces
To make room for replenishment of
Australian white supremacist
Grooming endeavours
Christchurch slaughters didnโt just happen
Beyond Peleโs legendary fecundity
On the soccer pitch
Millions more of
Survivor posterity of my ancestral roots
Languish
Displaced in
Brazilian favelas
And the hinterland
In Argentina
History just as dreadful for
Survivor posterity of my ancestral roots
Displace
Debase
Excruciate
Exclude
Incapacitate
Isolate
Replace
Discard
Eliminate
Thatโs the way of
Replacement Theory peddlers
In practice for real
Playing itself out
With impunity
With the right hand of God
Unbeknown to compassion
Jesusโ civility defiled
Today
Fleeing ravages of wars
Inseparable from
Ways of original global masters of
Replacement by murder: Imperialists
People of the world
Run to modern Europe unchanged
Steam to
United States of America the cursed un-united
Resurface in
The land down under
Traumatized
World emigrants
๐๐ฆ๐ด ๐ช๐ฎ๐ฎ๐ช๐จ๐ณรฉ๐ด ๐ฅ๐ถ ๐ฎ๐ฐ๐ฏ๐ฅ๐ฆ
๐๐ฆ๐ณ๐ฅ๐ฆ๐ฏ๐ด ๐ถ๐ต๐ท๐ข๐ฏ๐ฅ๐ณ๐ฆ๐ณ๐ฆ
๐๐ข๐ต๐ด๐ข๐ฎ๐ข๐ช ๐ฃ๐ข ๐ญ๐ฆ๐ง๐ข๐ต๐ด๐ฉ๐ฆ
๐๐ฎ๐ข๐จ๐ฐ๐ฅ๐ถ๐ฌ๐ข
๐๐ฎ๐ข๐ค๐ฉ๐ฐ๐ฏ๐ข
Want not to kill anybody
Want not to rape anybody
Want not to plunder anybodyโs land
They only ask for
Shelter, food, and love
Hopefully
Packaged in something called
Human dignity
Ukraine War 2022 style
In our times
White Supremacists
Scared shitless of
Self-created myths
Of non-white people of the world
Wanting to eat
White people
Off the face of America
My foot
We are better than that by far
Oh, come on
If racist whites
Have failed to eliminate
People of colours
From black to magenta
For more than half a millennium
What makes
Hot-nutted
Small White American men
With guns in hands
As in
Buffalo shooting
Think that they can
Eradicate us now
We define resilience, dudes
Black donโt crack
Goes the rap
Letโs all live together in harmony
Now
Oh, by the way
In the 21st Century
And years pushing on ahead
Monoethnics are dying breeds
Multiculturalism is
The future of humanity
United in diversity today
Grow up
And
Get used to it, yโall bigots
Wash your damn bloody hands
Stay clean
For human solidarity
For love
Abound in the world
Despite the mess
You ever
So relentlessly strive
To sustain
How dum
Can a human being be
๐๐ฆ๐ฆ๐ฆ๐ป๐ถ๐ป๐ป๐ป
END
ยฉSimon Chilembo 22/05-2022
SIMON CHILEMBO
OSLO
NORWAY
TEL.: +4792525032
June 02, 2022
PS
The pandemic is still in our midst. Fears and factual untruths havenโt abated. In my 7th book, Covid-19 and I: Killing Conspiracy Theories, I highlight fallacies red lights and how to identify them. Order the book, read, and be inspired by my philosophical exposition on the matter. It might save yours and your loved onesโ lives.
DISCLAIMER: I neither offer nor suggest any cures or remedies. I promote fearless, independent thought and inclination towards pursuing science-based knowledge in times of, indeed, frightening, life-threatening phenomena in the world.
RECOMMENDATION: Do you want to start writing own blog or website? Try WordPress!
๐จ๐ฆ๐ฆ๐ฅ ๐ข๐ฅ ๐ช๐๐๐ฅ๐? โ ๐จ๐๐ฅ๐๐๐ก๐ ๐ช๐๐ฅ ๐ฎ๐ฌ๐ฎ๐ฎ
๐๐ ๐ถ๐น๐ฒ ๐๐ฑ๐๐ฐ๐ฎ๐๐ถ๐ผ๐ป ๐ข๐ฝ๐๐ถ๐ผ๐ป๐: ๐ฌ๐ผ๐๐๐ต ๐ค๐๐ฎ๐ป๐ฑ๐ฎ๐ฟ๐
During my stay in Lusaka, Zambia, 1975-88, some of my most memorable social interactions involved meeting older and veteran, mostly male South African freedom fighters. These were ANC members. Then in their mid-thirties and above, some of them had travelled the world. They would have been in pursuit of various goals, which included:
- Mobilization of international support for the South African liberation struggle efforts
- Military training
- Education
About all the veterans exhibited the abhorrent traits of arrogance, tribalism, bullying, cantankerousness, outright stupidity, and violence endemic of South African kassie/ township life. Hard partying involving huge consumptions of alcohol and drugs and all that it entails were an integral part of the deal. Needless to say. Shebeen culture carried with into exile. Not that Zambians were any less of party animals.
These veterans were people of all sorts, with all sorts of familial backgrounds. They, or we, as individuals or as special-interests sub-groups were motivated and threaded together by the collective higher dream of the attainment of the liberation of South Africa from Apartheid oppression.
Much as they loved to party by default, the majority of these people took their liberation struggle work very, very seriously. They were highly knowledgeable in the various fields of Social and Natural Sciences, including Mathematics. Some had had guerrilla operations experiences within South Africa in the 1960s; also, Mozambique and Zimbabwe in conjunction with fellow freedom fighters in those countries. Others had participated in major international wars, such as the Vietnam war, and in Latin America. These were hard people.
There were three distinct individuals with whom I shared intense mutual dislike for one another. Each in their own ways reminded me of some older guys and grown-up men that were generally not nice people back in my kassie, Thabong, Welkom. These horrible guys hated especially the ever vocal and visible little boys like myself then. It didnโt help my situation being son of an envied foreign man from Zambia. I had already been in Zambia for several years when I heard that, on separate occasions, five of the horrible guys got stabbed to death by younger boys on the streets. Good riddance. For the obnoxious people these men were, their souls deserve neither rest nor peace wherever they may be in after-deathland.
Regarding the three older exiles that didnโt like me very much in Lusaka, I imagine that a mortal confrontation would have ensued at some point had we been in South Africa then. The likely murdered wouldnโt have been me.
Zambiaโs relatively laid-back culture had a way of dampening our wild South African township streaks. Otherwise, I got along fine with everyone; particularly those that found me โinteresting to talk big struggle issues toโ; their words, not mine.
My favourite was Comrade Mjaykes. He was Commander for a unit of younger, recently arrived immediate post-1976 Soweto student uprising exiles. Overriding objective here was to debrief the traumatized youth with various available and relevant medical and therapeutic methods. Intense and continuous conscientization political education was an unavoidable part of the package. And this was the fun part for me. Much of my fundamental geopolitics principles understanding was founded here.
Contrary to many a senior veteran, on the outset, Comrade Mjaykes was an unassuming personality. But he was one the most highly trained and educated around, both militarily and academically. He trained a lot, often alone late at night. He was very fit. And he read a lot too. Of his few personal possessions other than his books, he treasured a satellite radio that he had bought on one of his travels abroad. Commanding English, French, German, Russian, Spanish, and Swahili languages, the super veteran used the radio to listen to current affairs programs from all corners of the world. He was a well-informed man.
Being an exemplary leader with superior oratory skills, Comrade Mjaykes was a complete warrior in my eyes. An enduring source of inspiration that I last saw in 1981. Sadly, he was one of the earliest victims of the scourge of HIV/AIDS pandemic that began to ravage southern Africa and the rest of the world from the 1980s onwards. Comrade Mjaykes died in the newly liberated Rainbow Nation, South Africa, in December, 1994. No doubt, his soul is resting in eternal power. I canโt help but often wonder as to what he would have thought of the South Africa of today.
Acknowledging my Karate prowess already in 1977/ 78, Comrade Mjaykes said to me one day, โMuch as I know youโd make a much better soldier than all these young comrades here, Iโd rather you went to school first. You have the kind of brains there is a shortage of in our political leadership structures, see? We should be able to organize for you a scholarship for studies abroad. Iโll talk to your parents about this.โ
โThat would be nice, thank you! You know, my fatherโs biggest wish for my two siblings and I is that we could go and study overseas. But thatโll remain a pipedream because he could never afford the costs of an overseas education for us. Life is really hard for our family in Lusaka, as you know well.โ
โYes, I know! Your father is a good man. He deserves all the help we can afford him in that regard.โ
โThank you, Comrade! My parents would be extremely happy and grateful if mzabalazo/ the liberation movement can help.โ
โIt should work out for sure. But, unfortunately, currently available scholarships for full education up to university level are from Yuseserese/ the USSR (The Union of Soviet Socialist Republics). However, no, I donโt want you to go there even if you could leave tomorrow. My analysis of you and how you think tell me that you obviously are not Yuseserese material.โ
โWhy? Howโs that? All I want is to be a doctor. A doctor is a doctor, no? There are Russian doctors at the UTH/ University Teaching Hospital, right?โ
โCorrect, a doctor is a doctor to the extent that he or she thinks only within the context of being a doctor and nothing else beyond.โ
โI donโt understand!โ
โLet me explain, Sae: you see, being a doctor, or any other modern, academically attained profession for that matter, is but just one of the multitudes of tools available for us to apply in the overall growth and development of society. Youโll, of course, recall that growth refers to the actual physical expansionary attributes of society; infrastructure, for example. Whereas development refers to the total conceptual and practical work that goes towards visualizing and realizing measurable qualitative and quantitative transformation of society.โ
โYes, growth or lack thereof is a function of ideas and tools constituting a societyโs developmental visions as espoused by the incumbent national leadership.โ
โAbsolutely, Sae. Do remember that the developmental visions are promulgated in national development plans over specific time periods. Your brilliant explanation is further proof that sending you to Yuseserese will be a waste of what I see as one of the most promising of future leadership brains in our soon to be liberated South Africa. You must go to the West. Most of our smart ANC leaders in exile send their children to the West, anyway. Thereโs a good reason for that.โย
In arguing his case, Comrade Mjaykes repeated a summary of standard rhetorical statements I had heard numerous times before:
- The Soviet Union is a Socialist state.
- Socialism is a transition state. Socialism puts together all the building blocks leading to Communism attainment.
- Socialism shall build a strong state designed to enhance optimal economic growth and protection of society and all that guarantees perpetuity of the imminent march to Communism.
- Communism is the highest state of existential wellbeing attainable for society. Under Communism, classes are non-existent; all are equal with equal access to all resources necessary and available for a life of non-ending abundance for all.
- The state machinery, i.e. bureaucracy, has the function of managing efficacy of Communism towards the full satisfaction of societal needs. Under Communism, given certain specific skills according to different levels of societal engineering and resources production and distribution administration, all are at the service of society first and foremost and last.
- Communism has no room for individualism, the basis for societal stratification, or classes creation. When Christianity and other religions talk about heaven, thatโs another language for the perfect Communist state, actually. Only that Communism has no overbearing figures of God as portrayed in religious belief systems.
โThat is the rosy picture of Communism, Sae. The reality is different. Just like the concept of heaven for the religious, Communism is utopian. The march to Communism starts and ends in the already dysfunctional Socialism, really.โ
โBut I thought that attainment of the Communist state was more realistic because it was based on the dialectical material world for material human beings without mythical angels and gods in even more farfetched heavens above somewhere in the distant sky.โ
โCommunism attainment would be more realistic had it not been for Socialismโs killing of the human spirit, Sae.โ
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย โYou are losing me now, Comrade Mjaykes!โ
โI know that no one here has ever mentioned that last statement to you. I deliberately chose to prematurely take your political education to the next level now. Thatโs only because I really want the best for you and the future liberated, non-Communist South Africa.โ
โIf I may say so, you are beginning to sound like a sellout, Comrade Mjaykes. Arenโt you risking condemnation by others should they hear you talking like this to me nowโ
โNo, my views in this regard are already known to even the highest levels of our command structures. My devotion to the struggle is known; I having been tested on many, many occasions over the years. But because we, the ANC, arenโt hard-core Socialists yet, thereโ still much room allowed to hold principled divergent opinions in the on-going discourse of how to establish a unique, workable developmental model for the future South Africa.โ
โI see!โ
โAnd that is the point, Sae; behind the apparent success of Socialism in the USSR, North Korea, Cuba, and China, to name the most prominent, there are millions of robotized people whose senses of individuality have been broken to the core. Indeed, people may be provided with the best education in the natural and social sciences, producing top doctors, engineers, economists, and many more vocations. But thatโs often as far as it goes.
Thatโs because, through various political indoctrination methods, backed by extremely brutal national security forces trained to think and act as robotically themselves, the ruling elite ensure that the people cease to think independently and critically over existential questions.โ
โBut Iโve thus far been made to believe that people in Russia and all these socialist places live happily ever after. Moreover, Russiaโs support of ours and othersโ anti-imperialist struggles were for that the world must unite against capitalismโs exploitative socio-economic relations subjecting us to lasting poverty and subjugation.โ
โThatโs a myth, Sae. The truth is that us South Africans we are just too free-spirited, too wild to tame for Socialism. It goes without saying that Communism isnโt even worth talking about. Our allied South African Communist Party is a good platform for training in polemics and rhetoric more than anything else. Weโll discuss higher level Capitalism issues another time.โ
โI must say that this new side of Socialism has shocked me, Comrade Mjaykes.โ
โYou see, Socialism works for, and constructs linear thinkers; people who cannot think outside the box. People who think only in straight lines and right-angles in fixed operational spaces. Perhaps that may be one of the reasons Russians are superior chess players! I donโt know.โ
Itโs at about this time that my interest in chess waned. I dreaded the idea of my brains turning square! Indeed, many a South African liberation struggle veteran is a formidable chess player. If they ruled todayโ South Africa as exceptionally as they mastered chess, the country would probably be in a better place. But political leadership is an infinitely open field presupposing capacity for paradigm specific, or beyond as necessary, multifaceted thinking in problem solving and application of solutions derived thereby.
โYou have on many occasions demonstrated that you are a more independent and well-rounded thinker than your contemporaries here, Sae. I know that thatโs why some of the older comrades here donโt favour you much. They simply hate your guts. Highly educated as they are also, these guys donโt take it kindly when they are pushed out of their intellectual comfort zones, especially by a young comrade like you. They are Soviet educated.
โIโd hate to see you stagnate or degenerate intellectually as you get older. Thatโs why you canโt go to Yuseserese for studies, Sae, you see? One or two young comrades of your calibre have died out there before. Some have had mental breakdowns. It would break my heart to see that happen to you. Although the truth is suppressed in our organization, racism is also rife in the USSR. Encountering racism out there is tantamount to jumping out of the South African Apartheid pan into the Soviet racism fire, if you ask me.โ
At own private initiative elsewhere, the first scholarship chance I got for an overseas higher education was to Social Democratic capitalist Norway in 1988. I got stuck here. Primarily out of idealism and for love. No regrets. Norway is the richest country in the world. All things considered, life is as good as can be in Norway. Of course, never perfect, never fully satisfactory for everyone, but Norway does deliver for its people.
And the country is a leading Foreign Aid nation. Norwegian Finance Ministers have for years been megastars amongst their global colleagues. No Communism here. The few ardent Norwegian communists around are but fringe individuals or insignificant groupings with inconsequential social change impact, if any at all.
I write books now. I am what they call norsk forfatter. โForfatter Simon Chilemboโ sounds ever so cool! I write without fear or favour, freely following my creative fantasies to wherever they take me. I live happily ever after in an effectively non-Communist state. If Comrade Mjaykes could see me now! All gratitude due.
USSR-Socialist trained South African national leaders across the board fail to get the Rainbow Nation out of the mess theyโve plunged it in after the fall of Apartheid in 1994. In big geopolitics questions, the USSR yoke is sitting comfortably on South Africaโs neck. Mzansi drowning with a sinking ship that is post-USSR Russia fo sho.
The USSR fall with the Berlin Wall in 1989 give rise to Russia. In essence, Russia is the ghost of the former USSR. Ghosts are no touch of reality. It’s therefore not surprising that, identical to South Africa contra Apartheid’s subsequent collapse five years later, Russia never could rise from the post Berlin Wall shambles. Oligarchs ruthlessly plundered the Russian state coffers, taking corruption to the next level.
Post-1994 South Africa created its own egregious oligarchic class through the State Capture phenomenon. This has shown many a Comrade from humble beginnings becoming millionaires to billionaires overnight. They have acutely incapacitated the South African stateโs ability to optimally deliver the promise of a better life for all in a united,ย non-racial,ย non-sexistย andย democraticย republic. The post-1994 South African oligarchic class has given the formally Apartheid state’s corruption colour. The former is living in the past. They have lost sight of the reality that Russia is not the USSR. Dismembering of the USSR is permanent.
In 2022, Russia invades Ukraine with chess moves mentality. Some things never change. It has turned out that Ukraine is not a chess board for Russia to play on as it wishes. Things have changed here. Parochial USSR legacy oblivious to this fact. Just for starters, young men of my age in the late 1970s are dying, falling like sacrificial chess pawns. The rest is a tragic war on a straight line trajectory ending potentially with a nuclear war catastrophe.
World in panic makes noise. USSR legacy ears are plugged. USSR marble eyes see imperial rebirth victory where the odds for survival are impossible to turn around. Meanwhile, Norway gives shelter and protection to Ukraine children and women running away from the ravages of Russiaโs war on their country. No better place to be. Communism allergic. Progressive society as close to heavenly terrestrial opulence as can be.
SIMON CHILEMBO
OSLO
NORWAY
April 23, 2022
PS
The pandemic is still in our midst. Fears and factual untruths havenโt abated. In my 7th book, Covid-19 and I: Killing Conspiracy Theories, I highlight fallacies red lights and how to identify them. Order the book, read, and be inspired by my philosophical exposition on the matter. It might save yours and your loved ones’ lives.
DISCLAIMER: I neither offer nor suggest any cures or remedies. I promote fearless, independent thought and inclination towards pursuing science-based knowledge in times of, indeed, frightening, life-threatening phenomena in the world.
RECOMMENDATION: Do you want to start writing own blog or website? Try WordPress!
๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐: ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐
๐๐ข๐ฉ๐ฉ๐ข๐ง๐ ๐๐จ๐ข๐ง๐ญ
Looking at
The crystal ball
That was
The full moon
Last night
In the month of April
Revelation is that
If itโs a multiple of
The number six
Year 2022 is
Year of the Beast
On the impending third month
One full moon ahead
Of hot-nutted menโs
Refuse-to-stop war games
Orgies of destruction
Murder and pillage
In Ukraine
The last of
People dying
Dominoes-falling-style
Shall cause
The axis of
Diplomacy
Imperialism
Irrationality
Resistance
Sacrifice
And
Pushed boundaries exhaustion
Tension point
To collapse
Snapping
The blackmail:
๐๐ฆ๐ข๐ด๐ฆ ๐ช๐ฏ๐ท๐ข๐ด๐ช๐ฐ๐ฏ ๐ฐ๐ณ ๐ธ๐ฆโ๐ญ๐ญ ๐ด๐ข๐ฏ๐ค๐ต๐ช๐ฐ๐ฏ ๐บ๐ฐ๐ถ
The ransom:
๐ ๐ฌ๐ช๐ญ๐ญ ๐ธ๐ฉ๐ข๐ต ๐ ๐ธ๐ข๐ฏ๐ต
๐๐ฏ ๐ฎ๐บ ๐ด๐ถ๐ณ๐ท๐ช๐ท๐ข๐ญ ๐ด๐ฑ๐ฆ๐ค๐ช๐ข๐ญ ๐ฐ๐ฑ๐ฆ๐ณ๐ข๐ต๐ช๐ฐ๐ฏ
๐ ๐จ๐ณ๐ข๐ฃ ๐ธ๐ฉ๐ข๐ต ๐ ๐ธ๐ข๐ฏ๐ต
๐๐ฆ๐ต๐ข๐ญ๐ช๐ข๐ต๐ฆ
๐๐ฆ ๐ข๐ญ๐ญ ๐ฅ๐ช๐ฆ
๐๐ฏ๐ต๐ฐ ๐ฐ๐ฃ๐ญ๐ช๐ท๐ช๐ฐ๐ฏ
Nuclear war
Brought to life
For one last time
Duration of which
Weโll never see
Humanity obliterating itself
From the face of the earth
In an instant
From the heart of Europe
Stupendous Big Bangs
Excavating the earth
Higher magnitude
Hiroshima-Nagasaki like
Mushroom clouds
Thunder-rolled
Into outer space
Black holes in the universe
Giving our once
Earthly bodies particles
Sanctuary
Reducing us further to
Sub-atomic particles
Heaven to some
Hell to some
Which wonโt really matter
Anyhow
Total humanity decimation
Return inconceivable
Reincarnation ideas pulverized
When weโll have
Already lived all
There was of both
Heaven and hell
In all forms
In our
Pre-apocalypse earth now
Abound with
Godly crap talks and acts
Everywhere
Wrapped up in
Satanic verses in
Proclaimed holy books
Fools donโt even know
How to read
Upside down
Downside up
๐๐ข๐ฎ๐ฎ๐ฆ ๐งรฆ๐ฏ
Hear my possible last
Melancholy song now
Those of you
Hooked on legacies
Show them now
Share them now
Enjoy them now
For Godโ sake
We all gonna perish
Shit ainโt gonna mean no shit
In post-nuclear war
Apocalyptic world
Bloody โell
It is what it is
Worst of humanity
Playing out its ultimate idiocy
To the very end
Obnoxious
Woe betide
Tyrants of the world
Whilst we last
Let us breathe
๐๐๐
ยฉSimon Chilembo 17/04-2022
SIMON CHILEMBO
OSLO
NORWAY
TEL.: +4792525032
April 20, 2022
PS
The pandemic is still in our midst. Fears and factual untruths havenโt abated. In my 7th book, Covid-19 and I: Killing Conspiracy Theories, I highlight fallacies red lights and how to identify them. Order the book, read, and be inspired by my philosophical exposition on the matter. It might save yours and your loved oneโs lives.
DISCLAIMER: I neither offer nor suggest any cures or remedies. I promote fearless, independent thought and inclination towards pursuing science-based knowledge in times of, indeed, frightening, life-threatening phenomena in the world.
RECOMMENDATION: Do you want to start writing own blog or website? Try WordPress!
๐๐๐๐ ๐๐ ๐๐๐๐
๐๐ฅ๐๐๐ค ๐๐ฑ๐๐๐ฅ๐ฅ๐๐ง๐๐ ๐๐๐ฌ๐ข๐ฅ๐ข๐๐ง๐๐
Please
Give me time
Walking a straight course
Is not
A given for me
Given are
Obstacles
From the first step to the last
Iโve got sores
Under my feet
I walk
Spiked metal
Carpeted roads
In my time
Iโve danced through
Landmines in my time
Bombs clapping sounds
In my ears
Donโt stop
Scars on my body
Donโt heal
I eel through
I scale
Razor wire fences
To get anywhere
My muscles are wasted
Iโve walked through fire
Itโs a wonder
I can move at all
My eardrums hurt
Itโs a wonder
I can hear
Birds sing
My will is intangible
It cannot be isolated
Cannot be broken
I move as I will
I get there
The elements
Give me no easy task
To set my roots in the soil
Hostility
Above and below
The ground is
A given for me
I must fight
All the time
I must fight
Absolutely
For everything
To reach the top of
The mountains
I climb
As a given
To sustain my life
Even just to serve
From a mountain top
When Iโd rather
Rock and roll
Down to home base
In satisfaction
Iโm ever thrust over the edge
To tumble โn roll
Over โn over
In pain
Hitting home base
Body twisted
A bone or two broken
Iโm taken
Back in time
Back in space
More obstacles
To overcome
Another mountain climb
To the top
Where keys to
My well of joy lie waiting
If love
Blanketed the earth
Iโd reach for you
My joy
Every step I take
Give me time
I cannot breathe at your pace
I carry
Weight of the world
Laden with hate
On my shoulders
I fight bigots
Hating me
For colour of my skin
They demean me
They seek to dehumanize me
Every step I take
They twist my words
Slander me
Project myths that
Colour of my skin
Facades evil in man
I get enemies for free
They muddy my paths
Spill oil over roads I walk
I slide and fall
I get up
Burn the midnight oil
Keep moving on
One step at a time
Against the clockโs
Sixty tick-tock seconds steps a minute
Sixty tick-tock minutes steps an hour
My steps have time tick-tocks
Of their own
As a given
In my precarious existence
Bigots
They seek
To break my spirits
Every step I take
I am indomitable
My spirit terrifies them
They shoot me
I die
They created Jesusโ
Resurrection story
To cover their
Confoundment over
My resilience
Give me time
Youโll see in time
That I really am human too
Everything they can do
I can do better
As a given
I must work
Ten times as hard
Anytime
In my time
There are times
The agony inside
Is unbearable
My head
Wants to explode
At not only
The bigotsโ cruelty
But their horrendous
Outright stupidity
When reason doesnโt work
When prayer doesnโt work
Because their God is made
In the image of them bigotsโ
Collective derangement
I have to stop and cry
From time to time
Please give me time
For my tears to dry
Starting from below zero
With zero privilege
Against these meanest odds
Iโll rule the world
It ainโt for nothing
Iโm the oldest
Human being on earth
They created Adam
To sideline me
Doesnโt work
Iโm here
As a given
On the eve of
My victory
Itโs beyond hatersโ imagination
But
I shall blanket
The world with love
As a given
Some day soon
Nothing can stop me
Itโs only a matter of time
Brace yourself
My love
๐๐ช๐จ๐ฐ๐ฃ๐ฆ๐ฌ๐ช ๐ญ๐ฆ ๐ฏ๐ต๐ด๐ช๐ฎ๐ฃ๐ช
This Black donโt bend
๐๐ช๐น๐ฉ๐ฆ๐ฌ๐ฆ๐ป๐ฆ๐ฌ๐ช ๐ญ๐ฆ ๐ฏ๐ต๐ด๐ช๐ฎ๐ฃ๐ช
This Black donโt crack
๐๐๐
ยฉSimon Chilembo 06/04-2022
SIMON CHILEMBO
OSLO
NORWAY
TEL.: +4792525032
April 13, 2022
PS
The pandemic is still in our midst. Fears and factual untruths haven’t abated. In my 7th book, Covid-19 and I: Killing Conspiracy Theories, I highlight fallacies red lights and how to identify them. Order the book, read, and be inspired by my philosophical exposition on the matter. It might save yours and your loved one’s lives.
DISCLAIMER: I neither offer nor suggest any cures or remedies. I promote fearless, independent thought and inclination towards pursuing science-based knowledge in times of, indeed, frightening, life-threatening phenomena in the world.
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Simon Chilembo 