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38 YEARS AN EXILE: XXIII

HOME AT LAST! Part 23
WALOBA AWARD 2015
Diaspora Friendship, Brotherly Love Celebration

Anele Malumo, WA2015 ©Simon Chilembo, 2015

Anele Malumo, Waloba Award 2015
©Simon Chilembo, 2015

To introduce the recipient of Waloba Award 2015, I take the liberty of reproducing an edited version of my speech to him on his 50th birthday earlier in 2015:

  • You don’t know what it’s like
    To love somebody
    To love a Brother
    The way I love you …
  • Modern, enlightened, liberated men happily declare their love for one another openly even if their love is not of a physically intimate nature. Some call it Bromance. In any case, in South Africa, land of the free, home of the brave, people love who they love, as provided for, and enshrined in the constitution of the land.
  • I’ve heard it said somewhere that if you are not grown up yet by age 50, forget it, you’ll never grow up … (Continued in the book: “MACHONA AWAKENING – home in grey matter”. Order book on Amazon).

Simon Chilembo
Welkom
South Africa
June 26, 2015

38 YEARS AN EXILE: VII

HOME AT LAST! Part 7
1-Year Anniversary: The Truth

Simon Chilembo, Pres/ CEO, Empire Chilembo ©Simon Chilembo, 2014

In search of myself, I came forward to the roots in the land of my birth exactly a year ago today. I’m here; I live, I love. I’m poor. My sanity is intact. Symbols of my profane world wealth are standing firm on solid ground. I have no choice but to rise and stand tall. My life is good. One discovered shocking truth about my life could have wrecked it all had it not been for the presence of the other truth … (Continued in the book: “MACHONA AWAKENING – home in grey matter”. Order book on Amazon’s CreateSpace here).

 

Simon Chilembo
Riebeeckstad
Welkom
South Africa
July 02, 2014

 

PROBLEMS, PROBLEMS!

SIMON CHILEMBO FOR PRESIDENT! Part 2

“Simon, Simon, I know you all 30 years of Oslo and everything about you is problems, problems, problems, … Simon, please, Bello, can you not just for one day, today, have no problems, please. Problems, give me problems every day. I get a headache. NO PROBLEMS, PLEASE!!! I beg you, Simon, Sensei!” my first Norwegian friend, and Brother, Mimmo (72), Italian, would often cry in frustration. And we’d then go out and eat pasta, pizza, tiramisu; drink red wine and espresso, and live happily ever after, sharing our fantasies about good fortunes, women, as well as our frustrations about Karate politics in Norway and all over the world.

SONY DSCThe root cause of all my problems is that I do not have a rich and generous uncle I can cry on to and, voila, I live happily ever after. I have problems. Big problems. Serious problems:

  • Across the street in front of the house I live in there is a piece of prime land I want to buy. Here, I can build a modern open-air training and art park for the community. Promoting Health & Wellness principles and attitudes for a healthy, strong, and productive nation. But I’m broke
  • I need to pave up the space in front of my house, not only for aesthetic purposes, but that would further stabilise the earth around the house. Broke.
  • There is an urgent need to fence off the yard to the street. More for privacy needs than security. Broke.
  • Lots of repair and upgrading work to do around the house. No deal. Broke.
  • I need some classy interior decoration job for the house. No deal. Broke.
  • I need to make the house a green one, with solar energy panels and all, as well as own water borehole. No deal. Broke.
  • I must have super high speed ADSL connection here. No deal. Broke.
  • A swimming pool is needed too, so is a billiard room, private gym, as well as a private study/ library. No deal. Broke.
  • No Maserati. No Mercedes. No Maybach. Not even a Mahindra workhorse van. Broke.
  • Future mother of my children taking her time to find me. The house is too big for one man.
  • I have produced too much food in my new vegetable garden. Abundance everywhere in suburbia. Problems, problems.

Never ending wars in Africa. African people made destitute in their own lands. African people hungry, dirty, maimed, sick, miserable, broken. African people die without dignity; no honour. Hungry child_1.jpgThere is that picture of a vulture waiting for an emaciated body of a child to die. African humanity crushed. African earth carries so much unholy rot. And to think that we eat of the soil of this rotten earth!

“But, no, Simon, the oil give it shine; gold and diamonds give it glitter. African blood, flesh, and bones precious, see? They don’t call it the Blood Diamonds for nothing, yes?” I hear an army General whisper in my ear as someone applies electric shock to my testicles.

And African poets sing, “Oh, how we love you, Mother Africa!” Gawd!

Ever a thin thread of hope left, though. In extreme times, a thread of grass, a drop of water can take one very, very far. Beaten African people cross the Sahara on barefoot. Nature is more sensible than we often realize. When people are as badly crushed as African people on the run from miseries of tyranny and wars, even the sun gets no thrills out of burning them alive in the middle of the deserts. Others will deal with them more efficiently.

If you can’t get your hands on the African oilfields, the blood diamonds and gold (platinum is Marikana, and that’s another story), there is bounty of poor, desperate African people on the run across the Sahara. Here, there is everything for everybody. Unknowingly, these acutely abused and misused African people will even buy passports to die out at sea when then sun spared their lives in the deserts. Makes me wonder what the fish of the waters between African inhumanity and the lands of hope and perceived better life beyond, think of Africa and Africans. What would happen were the Nile to reverse its course?

I have problems. Big problems. Serious problems. Solution? Well:

Simon Chilembo
Welkom
South Africa
Tel: ++4792525032
December 28, 2013