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๐—จ๐—š๐—”๐—ก๐——๐—” ๐—ž๐—œ๐—Ÿ๐—Ÿ๐—ฆ ๐—Ÿ๐—š๐—•๐—ง๐—ค+ ๐—ฃ๐—˜๐—ข๐—ฃ๐—Ÿ๐—˜

๐—˜๐—ฐ๐—ผ๐—ป๐—ผ๐—บ๐—ถ๐—ฐ๐—ฎ๐—น๐—น๐˜† ๐—œ๐—ฟ๐—ฟ๐—ฎ๐˜๐—ถ๐—ผ๐—ป๐—ฎ๐—น ๐—•๐—ถ๐—ด๐—ผ๐˜๐—ฟ๐˜†

Uganda has recently legalized extreme persecution of LGBTQ+ people. People of non-heterosexual dispositions now make love with state sanctioned murder threat looming over their heads. The Ugandan state seeks to eradicate LGBTQ+ people from the face of the earth. This is a flagrant, futile, outdated, time and resources wasting exercise rooted in ignorance in the face of the most enlightened time in the history of humanity, the 21st Century. Pathetic.

Enlightened, liberated, forward-looking, resourceful, valuable people of the world know that sexuality isnโ€™t a matter of choice but an inherent state of being. As but an extension of the infinite totality of being human in its as infinite expressive forms, sexuality is exuded and played out from the core of a personโ€™s essence as encoded in the personโ€™s unique genetic makeup.

Sexuality is permanent. Sexuality is not acquired. Sexuality is not a disease; it cannot be cured, neither medically nor magically, nor by any other outlandish method. If God made man in her own image, God is then the queenpin of sexuality. Use of Godโ€™s prayers to ๐˜ค๐˜ฐ๐˜ฏ๐˜ท๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ๐˜ต homosexuals is tantamount to asking God to annihilate herself. Herein lies invalidation of the existence of an omnibenevolent, all-loving God. Amen!

Sexuality is not an attitude; it is not a lifestyle. Sexuality is what it is: it is it โ€“ a constant. It is the unidirectional, one-track express train towards the orgasmic peak experience that, in a perfect world, those in love aspire to achieve as a consummation of their oneness in love in all the possible constellations of love matchings humans are capable of as to their diverse intrinsic sexual orientations. 

Every personโ€™s unique genetic makeup is in turn an extrapolation of the human genome. The human genome is the unalterable existential thread that binds humanity together in its diversity of physical and physiological attributes. Thatโ€™s how you can love who you love; and, where applicable, you can reproduce with whom you will, regardless of race, status, colour, or creed.

Donโ€™t come to me with the ๐˜ฆ๐˜ท๐˜ฆ๐˜ฏ ๐˜ช๐˜ฏ ๐˜ฏ๐˜ข๐˜ต๐˜ถ๐˜ณ๐˜ฆ, ๐˜ฆ๐˜ญ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฑ๐˜ฉ๐˜ข๐˜ฏ๐˜ต๐˜ด ๐˜ฅ๐˜ฐ๐˜ฏโ€™๐˜ต ๐˜ค๐˜ฐ๐˜ฑ๐˜ถ๐˜ญ๐˜ข๐˜ต๐˜ฆ ๐˜ธ๐˜ช๐˜ต๐˜ฉ ๐˜จ๐˜ช๐˜ณ๐˜ข๐˜ง๐˜ง๐˜ฆ๐˜ด crap talk. Of course, these animals are of incompatible breeds. They arenโ€™t genetically wired to be sexually stimulative of one another, to begin with.

Depending on the ever-abundant factors affecting the lives of the sources and quality of human reproductive material, i.e., sperms and eggs, the outcome from fertilization to birth (assuming a problem-free pregnancy, and survival of the birthing agony), a child, can be anything of manifestations of being human. For example, the child can, amongst a myriad of other possibilities, be 

  1. Wholesome and healthy
  2. ๐˜๐˜ฎ๐˜ฑ๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ๐˜ง๐˜ฆ๐˜ค๐˜ต๐˜ข๐˜ฃ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฐ๐˜ณ๐˜ฎ๐˜ข๐˜ญ, and/ sickly. I.e., have physical, and physiological incongruities reflected in all kinds and extents of physical handicaps and mental or cognitive incapacities, if not inadequacies  
  3. Distinctly male or female as to the construction of relevant reproductive organs; hormonally steered
  4. ๐˜”๐˜ข๐˜ญ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ง๐˜ฆ๐˜ฎ๐˜ข๐˜ญ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ช๐˜ฏ ๐˜ฐ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฆ. I.e., intersex  
  5. Reproductive or barren upon attainment of sexual reproduction maturity age
  6. Sexually active or celibate   
  7. Heterosexual, homosexual, bisexual, and much more in the human sexuality expression spectrum.     

It ought to be a no-brainer that LGBTQ+ people are human just like everyone else. They have the right to live; just like everyone else. They have feelings; just like everyone else.

From an ethico-moral standpoint, show me an immoral LGBTQ+ person, Iโ€™ll show many more amoral heterosexuals. By the numbers, heterosexuals are by far responsible for the worst human-to-human and human-to-nature atrocities ever.

Iโ€™m convinced that the world would be a better place for all were people of the world allowed to love mutually consensually who they love of their psychosocial maturity equals. That means that, bearing high the flag of ๐˜ญ๐˜ฐ๐˜ท๐˜ฆ-๐˜ช๐˜ด-๐˜ญ๐˜ฐ๐˜ท๐˜ฆ, ๐˜ญ๐˜ฐ๐˜ท๐˜ฆ-๐˜ธ๐˜ฉ๐˜ฐ-๐˜บ๐˜ฐ๐˜ถ-๐˜ญ๐˜ฐ๐˜ท๐˜ฆ, you donโ€™t go around sexually abusing children. You donโ€™t go around taking sexual advantage of the weak and vulnerable. You donโ€™t go around defiling animals.

AVAAZ E-MAIL: UGANDAN LGBTQ+ LAMENT

On June 4, 2023, I received an e-mail from the global campaign network, Avaaz. This was on behalf of an anonymized Ugandan LGBTQ+ rights activist asking for moral and financial support. Iโ€™ll print the e-mail in full:

ALERT: BRUTAL ANTI-GAY LAW SIGNED — FINAL CALL TO HELP!

WARNING: This email has descriptions of sexual violence that may be upsetting.

Dear Avaaz members,

I write from Uganda, where a vicious ‘anti-gay’ law was just signed into existence — and gay people are being hunted like animals. 

Days ago, neighbours castrated a transgender person with a kitchen knife. We couldn’t go to the police as we’d be arrested — and had to search for a friendly doctor, as most wouldn’t help us.

We’re being fired from work, rejected by family, evicted, beaten, rapedโ€ฆ and worse.

I’m appealing for your support. Please.

This could be our last call for help. Under this new law, everything we do, including sending this email and raising funds, will soon become illegal. But right now, before the law is implemented, there’s still a narrow window when LGBTQ+ groups can receive support — and your donation could help save lives.

You’d fund safe houses where people can hide, along with emergency medical care, legal support, and trauma counselling. We urgently need more safe houses, as we constantly have to run when angry mobs arrive.

We’re being flooded with frantic calls for help, but without more funds we can only help a tiny fraction of people. I’m heartbroken, and don’t know where else to turn.

And it’s all because of who and how we love. In the face of unimaginable cruelty and violence, please stand up for our right to Love. Donate what you can now:

I’LL DONATE KR30
I’LL DONATE KR50
I’LL DONATE KR90
I’LL DONATE KR180
I’LL DONATE KR360
OTHER AMOUNT

The new law effectively makes it impossible to exist as an LGBTQ+ person in Uganda.

I could get a life sentence for kissing my partner, and be executed for repeated homosexual ‘offences’. Renting to gay people is now illegal — and I could serve 20 years in jail just for sending this email.

They call us “ungodly” filth, but we aren’t the ones inflicting unimaginable cruelty on already vulnerable people. I know girls who’ve been raped by family members to ‘cure’ their ‘lesbian disease’.

That’s why safe houses are so critically important– providing a place of sanctuary in a country burning with hatred. With your help, we could:

  • Fund dozens of new safe houses and emergency shelters across the country;
  • Provide emergency health care and legal support for those who’ve been arrested — and meals for people in jail; 
  • Help fund the development of a new legal case to challenge the law in court; and
  • Power emergency response campaigns, like this one, to defend communities facing discrimination, assault, and war around the world. 

Every penny raised will support LGBTQ+ people in Uganda, and power Avaaz’s emergency response work around the world. By donating, you wonโ€™t just be helping in Uganda — youโ€™ll be ensuring this crucial capacity is maintained for others like me, facing unimaginable terror.

Gay, straight, lesbian, transgender — we all just want to live and love in peace. I don’t know when that day will come, but it is not today, and our fight for love must go on. Wherever you are in the world, please stand with us. Donate what you can now.

I’ve been part of the Avaaz community for years. I’ve seen the difference it makes when we come together fast for those in need. Now it’s my community being attacked — me and my people need this movement’s help.

With hope and the deepest of gratitude,

****** and the whole team at Avaaz

Note: As the anti-gay law has just been signed, the consequences for an email like this could be deadly — in many ways, they already are. For that reason, names have been removed and photos are anonymous.

PS. This might be your first donation to our movement ever. But what a first donation! Did you know that Avaaz relies entirely on small donations from members like you? That’s why we’re fully independent, nimble and effective. Join the over 1 million people who’ve donated to make Avaaz a real force for good in the world.
END

๐——๐—ข๐—˜๐—ฆ ๐—”๐—ก๐—ง๐—œ-๐—Ÿ๐—š๐—•๐—ง๐—ค+ ๐—›๐—”๐—ฉ๐—˜ ๐—”๐—ก๐—ฌ ๐—˜๐—–๐—ข๐—ก๐—ข๐— ๐—œ๐—– ๐—ฅ๐—”๐—ง๐—œ๐—ข๐—ก๐—”๐—Ÿ๐—˜?

Now, I ask a rhetorical but serious question with profound socio-economic analysis implications:

Can Uganda, or any other tyrannical anti-LGBTQ+ country, for that matter, provide statistics showing any value-added number to the countryโ€™s annual GDP accruing from the persecution of LGBTQ+ people in all its extents?

Well, in Norway, for example, one of the countryโ€™s most important conglomerates is Orkla. โ€œOrkla ASA is a Norwegian conglomerate operating in the Nordic region, Eastern Europe, Asia and the US. At present, Orkla operates in the branded consumer goods, aluminium solutions and financial investment sectors. Orkla ASA is listed on the Oslo Stock Exchange and its head office is in Oslo, Norway. As of 31 December 2021, Orkla had 21,423 employees. The Group’s turnover in 2021 totalled NOK 50.4 billion,โ€ https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Orkla_ASA 

Orklaโ€™s Majority Shareholder is Stein Erik Hagen, 66 years old. As at June 25, 2023, heโ€™s worth US$2.1 billion, making him the 1468th wealthiest man in the world; number 6 in Norway as at February 24, 2023. Stein Erik Hagen is gay. Culturally sophisticated, he is a renowned international art collector, and philanthropist.     

Norwayโ€™s GDP in 2021 was US$482.17 billion. Population number stood at 5.4 million then. Thatโ€™s against Ugandaโ€™s population of 45.8 million people, and GDP of only US$40.5 billion in the same time period.

Norwayโ€™s highest standard of living in the world is powered by people in all walks of life, including, in all national production, service, and leadership strata. Norwegian LGBTQ+ people are/ have been, amongst others, Government Ministers, Bishops of the Church of Norway, and many more in the commanding hights of the economy. Much as it is a generational global trend, the Norwegian arts and culture industries are teeming with LGBTQ+ people. I have yet to see Norway come even anywhere near to going under. In the meantime, the country just keeps on growing on and on as a world economic and geopolitics force.

The biggest brands in the global fashion, design, and cosmetics industries are a trove of some of the biggest creative talents in the world, some of the most influential of whom are LGBTQ+ people living with pride. Their enterprises are global economic giants to reckon with; creating hundreds of thousands of jobs across the world, and paying billions of dollars of value-added GDP revenues in various countries.  One of the greatest flesh and bone human brains to ever walk on our planet earth is Leonardo Da Vinci. His phenomenal interdisciplinary work in the sciences, mathematics, art, and philosophy permeates all aspects of our modern life. The man was gay.

So, Uganda and your fellow tyrannical anti-LGBTQ+ countries in the world, what are your value-added numbers to your respective countriesโ€™ annual GDPs accruing from the persecution of LGBTQ+ people in all its extents?

It is globally demonstrable that persecution of LGBTQ+ people deprives society of vital workforce resources across the board. LGBTQ+ persecution is clearly counterintuitive to equitable national economic growth; which is even more glaring in poor countries like Uganda.

The like-minded oil-rich, religio-conservative Gulf states have managed to harness their ultra-wealth to overrun all local and international resistance and critic against their atrocious anti-LGBTQ+ practices. However, these societies could attain even higher standards of living and more credible and durable geopolitics influence had they allowed their citizens to unleash their full human potential, free to mutually love who they love of their contemporaries.  

And in Ukraine, the countryโ€™s LGBTQ+ people are together with their fellow in-action citizens fighting side-by-side against Putinโ€™s imperialistic invasion of their country. Because they, indeed, are people like any heterosexual, LGBTQ+s are also capable of killing other beings. Violence and murder arenโ€™t the prerogative of mad heterosexuals with potentially dubious sexualhabits camouflaged in their irrational hatred for LGBTQ+โ€™s. Like in all Human Rights struggles, when push comes to shove and the oppressed finally pick up weapons of war and fight back, the latter wins. Wake up, bigots, and smell the coffee!

On June 16, 2023, Presidents Cyril Ramaphosa and Hakainde Hichilema, of South Africa and Zambia respectively, led an African peace mission to Ukraine and Russia. Iโ€™ll leave discussion of the merits or demerits of this trip for another time.

Ugandan President Yoweri Museveni chickened out at the last minute because of the escalation of Putinโ€™s attacks on Kiev. Putin even launched another attack on Kiev whilst the African delegation was in town, defiantly breaching and giving a blatant โ€™๐˜ง โ€™ to International Relations protocols.

The aggressor was simply making a point that he could have the ๐˜ด๐˜ฎ๐˜ข๐˜ญ๐˜ญ ๐˜ฑ๐˜ญ๐˜ข๐˜บ๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ๐˜ด African delegation sent back to their respective countries in body bags, if he wanted to. The Africans recovered from the shock, talked with Zelensky, and went on to check on Putin the following day, anyway; wagging their little tails like poodles. Progressive South Africans look at Ramaphosa with dismay. Thatโ€™s Mzansi for you fo sho; myopic, parochial, outdated-communistsโ€™ bootlickers.

Real men persevere even in the most ominous of circumstances. Real men may be as gay as those fighting in the Ukraine army against the Russian invasion. A warrior is a warrior regardless of who of sexual maturity equal and sexual orientation they love.

Real men and women know that once they become a head of state, death comes with the territory; they automatically assume tyrannical or constitutional prerogatives to terminate or redeem life, according to prevailing circumstances. They also embrace the reality that they can under variable circumstances get killed on the job on any day.

How much of a ๐˜ณ๐˜ฆ๐˜ข๐˜ญ ๐˜ฎ๐˜ข๐˜ฏ  is LGBTQ+ loathing Museveni, who got scared โ€˜sโ€™less out of thechances of getting caught up and dying in the Putin-made killing fields in Ukraine, I wonder? With no guts to face up to his national sovereignty leadership equals, he goes after soft targets, the LGBTQ+ community of Uganda. Coward. Loser.     

South Africa legalized same sex marriage in 2006. Although there are still unofficial, yet potent obstacles here and there, the LGBTQ+ community thrives in the country. LGBTQ+ personalities feature prominently in all spheres of South African econo-socio-politico life. And their influence grows by the day. After 9 (oโ€™clock, pm), hetero-married South African gay men exit their closets for their true loves outside.

Despite its governance challenges, South Africa remains a haven for Africans running away from their dysfunctional, war-torn anti-LGBTQ+ countries, including Uganda itself. South Africa remains an African economic powerhouse providing sustainable entrepreneurial opportunities for African immigrants from the latter countries, Afro-xenophobia violence issues notwithstanding. 

Whatโ€™s funny about Uganda in this context is that I first came across the words ๐˜ฉ๐˜ฐ๐˜ฎ๐˜ฐ๐˜ด๐˜ฆ๐˜น๐˜ถ๐˜ข๐˜ญ๐˜ช๐˜ต๐˜บ and ๐˜ฉ๐˜ฐ๐˜ฎ๐˜ฐ๐˜ด๐˜ฆ๐˜น๐˜ถ๐˜ข๐˜ญ๐˜ช๐˜ด๐˜ฎ in an article in Drum Magazine in 1972/3. Fifty years ago, in Welkom, my hometown in South Africa!

If I recall, the article was about how Ugandan men would meet up at local Sunday afternoon football matches in their villages. Some men would, then, pair up and disappear into the nearby bushes to engage in ๐˜ฉ๐˜ฐ๐˜ฎ๐˜ฐ๐˜ด๐˜ฆ๐˜น๐˜ถ๐˜ข๐˜ญ activities, the article reported. It was a given that many a girl would go down with their boyfriends as well. Of course. ย 

At age 12/13 then, this thing about homosexuality and homosexualism confused me a bit. I then ventured to ask an older friend to explain for me. Buti-Gabriel was in โ€˜JCโ€™/ Grade 10 at that time; he sure would know these things, I reasoned. He told me that homosexualism is when men sleep together like we sleep with our women.  

โ€œThey do it slightly different, but thatโ€™s basically it: having sex together man-to-man,โ€ Buti-Gabriel said. He further reminded me that we already knew how lonely men living in the then โ€˜Men Onlyโ€™ hostels in Welkomโ€™s gold mines had sex with one another in the absence of women. Aha, oh, yes, of course!

These womanless men came from the entire Southern African hinterland, as well as remote-lying, extremely poverty-stricken parts of South Africa. The guy said this in as matter-of-factly, and as ever cool as he was as a person and older brother that I had grown to be very fond of. Iโ€™ve had a laid-back attitude towards homosexualism since then.

A life-long ๐˜ โ€™๐˜ฎ๐˜ข๐˜ญ๐˜ฐ๐˜ท๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฐ๐˜ต๐˜ข๐˜ง๐˜ช๐˜จ๐˜ฉ๐˜ต๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ, Buti-Gabriel taught me how to be a gentleman to girls, and subsequently to women in my grown-up age. We remained great friends until he died in 2016. I miss him dearly. MHSRIEP!

Prior to the intriguing homosexuality and homosexualism mystery in Uganda as Iโ€™ve related above, there had already been an especially edifying association imprinted in my mind about the country. One of the earliest hymns that I recall singing at my childhood school between 1965-69, St. Rose (Catholic) Primary School, Peka, Lesotho, was about the Martyrs of Uganda: ๐˜ˆ ๐˜ณ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ณ๐˜ฐ๐˜ฌ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฏ๐˜จ ๐˜ฃ๐˜ข ๐˜œ๐˜จ๐˜ข๐˜ฏ๐˜ฅ๐˜ข / โ€œLetโ€™s Praise Ugandansโ€.

Brutal Idi Aminโ€™s entry on the Ugandan presidential scene, 1971 to 1979, shook the heavenly picture I had held in my head for the country of the great martyrs. I recalled the latter, forty-five of them, being held in the highest reverence in the Lesotho-South African Catholic Church community that I knew then.   

Yoweri Museveni has been in power since 1986. He has taken the Ugandan murderous persecution plague to the next level.        

As regards Zambia, the LGBTQ+ plus struggle is still hard, yes. However, Iโ€™ll make a sweeping statement and postulate that woke, Zambian middle-class youth growing up and grooving in the Lusaka party scene in the late 1970s to the late 1980s (I havenโ€™t lived in Lusaka since 1988) will attest to the existence of a flourishing gay subculture in the city and the environs at that time. I canโ€™t imagine it having been any different in the Copperbelt urban centres such as Kitwe and Ndola.

I also canโ€™t imagine the Zambian gay scene as having diminished with the years. We had public secret gays as schoolmates and teachers, as relatives, including work colleagues.

I had just recently graduated from the University of Zambia in 1986 when, in one of my then business hustles in Lusaka, I got to strike a South Africa-Zambia commercial goods import deal with a super wealthy, fine-looking gentleman who, I thought, could probably leave an Afro-American movie star kissing his shoe heels. I got highly rewarded for the deal upon its closure.

After a business meeting that went late into the night one day, this man, we call him Mr Dukes, invited me for a snack and drink at his home in one of Lusakaโ€™s finest neighbourhoods. His house so overwhelmed me with its beauty and raw manifestation of opulence that my immediate reaction was to make the comment, โ€œAll the hottest girls of Lusaka would be in trouble if I had a house like this one, Mr Dukes!โ€
He curtly replied, โ€œHot girls are the least of my troubles, Mr Chilembo!โ€

Serving efficiently prepared bacon-and-cheese sandwiches and tea, he stated, โ€œI live alone here. I donโ€™t need women in my life.โ€
We ate in silence. Outside of business talks, I wouldnโ€™t know how to start any meaningful personal conversations with Mr Dukes after that incident.

Nearly three decades would go before a mutual acquaintance would reveal to me that Mr Dukes was gay, and that he had had a harem of young men that he sexually exploited at will. Inviting me to his house may have been a trap, but, sadly for the man, my mind was on the things Iโ€™d do with girls in his awesome house. Besides, he admired me for my Karate prowess and the local rock stardom I had already begun to enjoy in Lusaka. He really couldnโ€™t impose himself on me. I learned that Mr Dukes died in yet another one of those gruesome road traffic accidents involving huge, luxury cars driven at high speeds on Zambian pothole-laden roads twenty years ago.    

My feeling is that Zambia will soon legalize Gay Rights protection in the country. The country is on a path to economic recovery at a relatively better pace by far as compared to, say, Zimbabwe, where gays are โ€œworse than dogs and pigsโ€, according to projecting Robert Mugabe, the late and former dictatorial president.  

The point I want to make about South Africa (land of my birth) and Zambia (my fatherland) vis-ร -vis the LGBTQ+ condition is that tolerance liberates positive energy in society. Tolerance inspires and sustains creativity. Tolerance unleashes productive empowerment across the board in society. This is a crucial element of overall national development and growth. The case of Norway as Iโ€™ve outlined above is a perfect example of how this works. And, Norway is but one of the LGBTQ+ tolerant countries with the highest standards of living in the world.

The fear that the LGBTQ+s want to take over the world is unwarranted. Unlike religion, no one is converted to LGBTQ+ existence. You are either gay, lesbian, bisexual, etc., or not. If conditions become such that more and more LGBTQ+ people come out as time goes on, what the heck? Thatโ€™s the way of the world.      

LGBTQ+ people of Uganda and the world, stand up and fight for your rights. You are not alone. We all suffer together. Freedom doesnโ€™t come cheap. Absolutely ALL Africans ought to know this fact.

So, LGBTQ+ contradicts African cultural values? In what way is murder an African cultural values defence mechanism, then? Well, with effective brutality untold, Arab and, subsequently European invaders, applied relentless murder as a tool for imperial-colonialism imposition and sustenance. African has been left generationally culturally and cognitively raped and screwed.

Killing oneโ€™s own people for them exercising expressions of an emotion as fundamental of being human as can be, love, does not make post-colonial Africa any better than the primitive former imperial-colonial masters.

As the human genome carrying entities, Africans are essentially not different from any other people on earth. In varying degrees according to location on the planet, and exposures to multitudes of natural and artificial variants that enable humanity to adapt or die in given situations, Africans face the same existential challenges and joys as anybody else. Therefore, the spectrum of sexual orientations manifestations amongst Europeans or Asians is not in any way divergent from that found amongst Africans or people of any other racial classification, the latter being a curse to humanity.

Therefore, insisting upon the narrative that LGBTQ+ism is un-African is as banal as it is downright lacking in cognitive development maturity. Unadulterated stupidity oblivious to the ever-growing abundance of contemporary human knowledge database. Human love sentiment is truth constant in time and space; much as is the human need for liberty, equality, and solidarity. That underpinning the universal concept of Human Rights.  

Whereas the Universal Declaration of Human Rights was drafted without any African representation, the universality of Human Rights principles validity cannot exclude Africa. The assumption being that Africans are part of humanity. Much of Africa still under the Euro colonial yoke in 1948, no African country had the requisite political national sovereignty to be considered as worthy of participation in the process then. Independent Africa would eventually come out with its AFRCAN CHARTER ON HUMAN AND PEOPLES RIGHTS in subsequent years; adopted in 1981, and ratified in 1986.

๐—จ๐—ก๐—œ๐—ฉ๐—˜๐—ฅ๐—ฆ๐—”๐—Ÿ ๐——๐—˜๐—–๐—Ÿ๐—”๐—ฅ๐—”๐—ง๐—œ๐—ข๐—ก ๐—ข๐—™ ๐—›๐—จ๐— ๐—”๐—ก ๐—ฅ๐—œ๐—š๐—›๐—ง๐—ฆ

The Universal Declaration of Human Rights (UDHR) is a milestone document in the history of human rights. Drafted by representatives with different legal and cultural backgrounds from all regions of the world, the Declaration was proclaimed by the United Nations General Assembly in Paris on 10 December 1948 (General Assembly resolution 217 A) as a common standard of achievements for all peoples and all nations. It sets out, for the first time, fundamental human rights to be universally protected and it has been translated into over 500 languages. The UDHR is widely recognized as having inspired, and paved the way for, the adoption of more than seventy human rights treaties, applied today on a permanent basis at global and regional levels (all containing references to it in their preambles). 

ARTICLE 1 of the UNIVERSAL DECLARATION OF HUMAN RIGHTS reads as follows:

All human beings are born free and equal in dignity and rights. They are endowed with reason and conscience and should act towards one another in a spirit of brotherhood.

ARTICLE 19 of AFRCAN CHARTER ON HUMAN AND PEOPLES RIGHTS agrees by saying, โ€œAll peoples shall be equal; they shall enjoy the same respect and shall have the same rights. Nothing shall justify the domination of a people by another.โ€

ARTICLE 3 of the UNIVERSAL DECLARATION OF HUMAN RIGHTS says:

Everyone has the right to life, liberty and security of person.

ARTICLE 20 of AFRCAN CHARTER ON HUMAN AND PEOPLES RIGHTS agrees. It says, โ€œAll peoples shall have the right to existence. They shall have the unquestionable and inalienable right to self-determination. They shall freely determine their political status and shall pursue their economic and social development according to the policy they have freely chosen.โ€

ARTICLE 5 of THE UNIVERSAL DECLARATION OF HUMAN RIGHTS SAYS:

No one shall be subjected to torture or to cruel, inhuman or degrading treatment or punishment.

ARTICLE 24 of AFRCAN CHARTER ON HUMAN AND PEOPLES RIGHTS adds that โ€œAll peoples shall have the right to a general satisfactory environment favourable to their development.โ€ 

ARTICLE 6

Everyone has the right to recognition everywhere as a person before the law.

ARTICLE 7

All are equal before the law and are entitled without any discrimination to equal protection of the law. All are entitled to equal protection against any discrimination in violation of this Declaration and against any incitement to such discrimination.

ARTICLE 9

No one shall be subjected to arbitrary arrest, detention or exile.

ARTICLE 12

No one shall be subjected to arbitrary interference with his privacy, family, home or correspondence, nor to attacks upon his honour and reputation. Everyone has the right to the protection of the law against such interference or attacks.

ARTICLE 19

Everyone has the right to freedom of opinion and expression; this right includes freedom to hold opinions without interference and to seek, receive and impart information and ideas through any media and regardless of frontiers.

ARTICLE 27

  1. Everyone has the right freely to participate in the cultural life of the community, to enjoy the arts and to share in scientific advancement and its benefits.

๐—ข๐—ฆ๐—Ÿ๐—ข ๐—ฃ๐—ฅ๐—œ๐——๐—˜ ๐—ฃ๐—”๐—ฅ๐—”๐——๐—˜ 2023

Osloโ€™s PRIDE PARADE 2023 was held on Saturday, July 01. It was a massive, happy, incident-free event attended by a record 90 000+ people; a rare event putting the beauty and love of Osloโ€™s human diversity in world display without fear or favour. Norwayโ€™s national television transmitted the event live. The huge turnout was defiant of the possible terror attack threat similar to that carried out outside the London Pub in central Oslo, June 25, 2022.

Itโ€™s Monday, July 03, 2023 as I write this section of the essay. Iโ€™ll bet my last penny that the USA risks yet another day of shooting massacres across the nation on July the 4th than Norway shall any day soon endure satanic fires for being pro-LGBTQ+s right to exist happy and free in the country.

On Monday night, June 07, 2010, I reluctantly agreed to join a diverse group of some friends of mine for a beer at the London Pub, Oslo. I have never been into partying on weekdays, a fact my close friends know well. However, on this one night, my friends applied all the tools of the charm to get me to come along with them. We had to celebrate the final exams success of Greg, a younger, super talented jazz singer from Cape Town, South Africa. Ok.

All went well at the pub until I noticed that time was fast approaching midnight. I really had to go. A long working day was awaiting me ahead.
โ€œOh, no, no, no, please, Simon, just wait another few minutes and we shall all leave this place together as a group and then go our separate ways home,โ€ cried Beya.
โ€œArgh, man, ok! You guys are impossible!โ€ yours truly.

In the ensuing laughter amidst group amicable comments/ inside jokes like, โ€œBlack Jew Simon just thinks money, money, money. He doesnโ€™t have a social life!โ€, the DJ suddenly plays full blast Stevie Wonderโ€™s iconic Happy Birthday song. Before I knew it, I had been yanked onto the dance floor, and this group of between 20-30 men were singing along and dancing all around me. These men were all gay. That was the most wonderful surprise and kick-off moment for the subsequent series of parties marking my 50th birthday, which fell on June 08, 2010. A truly moving experience that I cherish to this day.

After the dance, a Champagne bottle was popped. For a moment I found myself sitting alone, as if my friends had made a quick dash and left me without any good-byes. Argh, just as well, I thought. I was set to go away, anyway. Suddenly, an unfamiliar, exuberantly perfumed, finely attired, beautiful young man sits next to me on the right, and makes as if to want to snuggle with me. As I turn to look at him, he looks me deep in the eyes and says, โ€œBut, Simon, you ARE hetero, arenโ€™t you?โ€
โ€œYes, I am,โ€ yours truly.

The disappointment wave emanating from the boy was palpable. As he apologetically and cautiously pulled away from me, a surge of paternal care cut through me, and the flirt in me woke up. So, I reached out, gently grabbed his hands, and pecked his left cheek, saying, โ€œYes, I am heterosexual, but I love you for that!โ€

In Norwegian, โ€œ๐˜‹๐˜ถ, ๐˜š๐˜ช๐˜ฎ๐˜ฐ๐˜ฏ, ๐˜ฅ๐˜ถ ๐˜Œ๐˜™ ๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ๐˜ต๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ๐˜ฐ, ๐˜ช๐˜ฌ๐˜ฌ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ด๐˜ข๐˜ฏ๐˜ต?โ€
โ€œ๐˜‘๐˜ฐ, ๐˜ซ๐˜ฆ๐˜จ ๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ ๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ๐˜ต๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ๐˜ฐ. ๐˜”๐˜ฆ๐˜ฏ ๐˜ซ๐˜ฆ๐˜จ ๐˜ฆ๐˜ญ๐˜ด๐˜ฌ๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ ๐˜ฅ๐˜ฆ๐˜จ ๐˜ง๐˜ฐ๐˜ณ ๐˜ฅ๐˜ฆ๐˜ต!โ€ yours truly/ โ€œโ€ฆ But I love you all the same!โ€

After my words and moves, I have never seen anybody waltzing away from me onto a dance floor in as glamorous and as joyful mood as that young man. Numerous eyes were on him. I hoped heโ€™d find someone to love him then. That made me happy. I rose and quietly left the pub with the thought that, had that situation involved a girl, and I was in the mood, Iโ€™d have gotten laid that night.

The terror attack tragedy outside the London Pub last year upset me at least as much as it did anybody else. Oslo gay groove house London Pub is a viable business entity. Public records show that it was registered in 2007. Itโ€™s 2022 revenue was NOK 35 million, over twice as much as the previous year. During the said financial year, there were twenty-six employees. With outsourcing of security and other auxiliary services, thereโ€™ll be even more people earning a living working here.

The gay joint, London Pub is 50-50 owned by two gentlemen, Avni Fetisi and Selassie Desta G E G. I have reason to believe that the latter is of Ethiopian origin. And, last time I checked, Ethiopia was an African country. Just saying. Whilst living in South Africa as a child sometime in the late 1960s, my father once reminded a๐˜ฏ๐˜ข๐˜ต๐˜ถ๐˜ณ๐˜ข๐˜ญ๐˜ญ๐˜บ overbearing White car salesman that โ€œMy money is NOT black!โ€

Money knows no gender, no sexuality, no skin colour. Money just loves good business. If money makers are fair, theyโ€™ll pay their workers well regardless of non-professional considerations such as gender, sexuality, race, and all. Hopefully.

Violence against LGBTQ+ people and institutions will never succeed in ridding the world of people who love outside the narrow heterosexual stream. Launching surprise attacks on unarmed, peaceful people is a sign of sheer cowardice; idiocy supreme.

Real men fight men of their own sizes in real, bloody battles. At any one time, there are scores of wars played out in the world for trigger happy fools to go and play their silly, fake-manhood games. Prigozjin and his Wagner Group has room for soldiers of fortune he can use to feed the Putin-created meat grinder in Ukraine, for ๐˜™๐˜ถ๐˜ด๐˜ด๐˜ช๐˜ข๐˜ฏ & ๐˜Š๐˜ฉ๐˜ช๐˜ฑ๐˜ด on South African oligarchโ€™ State Capture braai coal flames. Check out Sudan too, if not the perennial DRC bloodbath.

It boggles my mind that a so-called man can run away from genocidal conditions in his country of origin – Iran, Pakistan, and others; find protection in Norway. Thrive. Grow up into a big and supposedly strong man. Is, or gets unhappy about the liberal, globally uplifting Norwegian way of life. Then decides to play the devilโ€™s executor role and kill innocent people in/ of Norway; shooting them as if they were dummy targets in a shooting range.

There is no courage in fleeing from the fight for liberty in the land of your birth. There is no honour in killing your innocent, new landsmen only seeking to love who they love in the free world.

From the point of view of harnessing and growing a productive manpower resources base vis-ร -vis attainment of sustainable national developmental goals, there can be no bright economic future for Uganda in its use of state resources to persecute the LGBTQ+ community in the country.

As Uganda is not alone in this counter-progress tendency in Africa, I really do not see the continent coming out of the Africa Screwed. Africa Raped quagmire I mention in one of my earlier talks.

Africaโ€™s future is doomed. All for leaders caught up in the ๐˜ธ๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฏ ๐˜ธ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ธ๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ฌ๐˜ช๐˜ฏ๐˜จ๐˜ด syndrome. The techno-socio-economic future of the world is shaped by forward-looking, problem-solving leaders. These apply contemporary tools available and relevant today, addressing needs for a successful push into the future of ever so rapidly changing and growing understanding of the workings of nature.

As I use the expression, the ๐˜ธ๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฏ ๐˜ธ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ธ๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ฌ๐˜ช๐˜ฏ๐˜จ๐˜ด syndrome refers to the inclination towards reliance on knowledge that may have prevailed once upon a time when society was high and mighty during, say, the Stone Age. Useless.

When progressive countries of the world are investing heavily inArtificial Intelligence (AI) Research and Development (R&D), Uganda is applying scarce resources in the hunt for Whoโ€™s sleeping with who? At the same time Dead Aid keeps flowing into the country. Morbid.  

๐—œ๐—ก ๐—–๐—ข๐—ก๐—–๐—Ÿ๐—จ๐—ฆ๐—œ๐—ข๐—ก

Iโ€™ll happily engage with anybody that reaches out on this topic. Do write your comments below. But I am not in any way interested in any crap talk about God and religion. ๐˜‘๐˜ฆ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฆ๐˜ป๐˜ป๐˜ถ๐˜ป๐˜ป๐˜ป, God is the most divisive, most lethal of manโ€™s responsibility escapism creations. Religion is a weapon of death in the name of God. Religious texts are murder prescriptions.

Neither am I interested in “๐˜๐˜ต’๐˜ด ๐˜ฐ๐˜ถ๐˜ณ ๐˜ค๐˜ถ๐˜ญ๐˜ต๐˜ถ๐˜ณ๐˜ฆ” reasoning. The moment I hear expressions like, โ€œ๐˜ˆ๐˜ง๐˜ณ๐˜ช๐˜ค๐˜ข๐˜ฏ ๐˜ค๐˜ถ๐˜ญ๐˜ต๐˜ถ๐˜ณ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ฅ๐˜ฐ๐˜ฆ๐˜ด ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฐ๐˜ต ๐˜ฑ๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ๐˜ฎ๐˜ช๐˜ต ๐˜ฉ๐˜ฐ๐˜ฎ๐˜ฐ๐˜ด๐˜ฆ๐˜น๐˜ถ๐˜ข๐˜ญ๐˜ช๐˜ต๐˜บ!โ€ I see insular, static cultures oblivious to, or dismissive of local or global societal paradigm shifts with time. These insular, static cultures inhibit growth of curious, innovative minds. The latter being capable of, and ever willing to explore new frontiers of knowledge in efforts to find solutions to existential challenges facing society on all fronts.

Spearheaded by the ruling elites, parochial, conservative African cultures kill liberated human beingsโ€™ creative potential. Myths intended to create perpetual fear and uncertainty in peopleโ€™s lives are applied as effective oppressive tools, much like the holy scriptures in organized religions.

Bring me science of consistent, universally applicable, infinitely testable principles that effectively contribute to mankindโ€™s efforts in the never-ending pursuit of bettering the quality of life for all on earth. I have no time for Conspiracy Theories bs-talk. Show me numbers. Thatโ€™s all that interests me in this topic here.

This here is my voice. The voice of an independent, free spirit with no fear for the unknown, or peddlers of untruths and negative endeavours to the detriment of society. I speak for myself, reflecting the workings of my one-man intellectual and creative powerhouse.

I represent no particular interest groups anywhere. Neither do I speak on behalf of any special influential individual. I neither receive nor solicit any monies from any individual or groups, as a motivation to be their mouthpiece or speak favourably about them. Nobody owns me. No one owns my brains. I owe nobody no favours.

My take on the LGBTQ+ rights violations in Uganda and elsewhere is founded on universal Human Rights tenets. I neither hate nor disrespect the people of Uganda. My reaction is against appalling, out-of-tune-with-the-times, power abusive, oppressive, leadership. If the latter is fronted by Yoweri Museveni in Uganda, the heat shall be on him by default; it comes with the territory. Iโ€™ll lash out at any regressive national leader, be they Zuma, Mugabe, Putin, Trump, or whoever.

Purely from a Human Rights standpoint, I feel very, very strongly about the LGBTQ+ right to exist case. If I could have just one cause to fight for in my life, this would be it. As a matter of a deep-felt principle, persecution of LGBTQ+ people the world over touches the core of my injustices-against-humanity sensitivities in a profound way. This is a struggle for freedom. Any struggle for freedom is my struggle.  

My pro-LGBTQ+ right to life is humanist, and is as solid as a rock. Those of my so-called relatives, friends, and other social relations across the board wishing to cancel me for my views on the LGBTQ+ question and other ludicrously controversial issues such as a womanโ€™s rightto access abortion as she deems fit according to her life circumstances, may do so now. The time has come for hypocrites and cowards to stay clear. Good riddance.

It is okay to have differences of opinions on anything. In fact, it is absolutely natural that people all over the world will have certain commonly shared instinctually broadly and/ or narrowly defined proclivities according to their respective individual neuroendocrine systemsโ€™ wirings. The latter being a function of both inheritance and infinite, known, and unknown immediate and distant environmental factors of short or lasting terms.

But it is not okay to hate. It is not okay to, by all means possible, actively work to exterminate people labelled as ๐˜ฅ๐˜ฆ๐˜ท๐˜ช๐˜ข๐˜ฏ๐˜ต and ๐˜ด๐˜ช๐˜ฏ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ๐˜ด by those individuals or collectives wielding societal power. 

For as long as I can breathe, Iโ€™ll speak and write for justice and fairness. Iโ€™ll stand for the weak and vulnerable. Amongst other motivations, I do this for our children for them to not be afraid of the future, no matter how weird and unconventional they might be viewed to be, and treated as adults. I have this vision that, given the superior knowledge and courage we impart in our children today, theirs will be a better world for all tomorrow.

The MAGA movement bans and burns books, curtails liberatory education for enlightenment provision for American children today. I shudder to think about how primitive the future world would be would MAGA ever dominate fully the American society. That would also spell hell on earth for American LGBTQ+s. And mine will be one of the loudest resistance voices. You ainโ€™t heard nothing yet. The biggest global freedom storms are yet to come. To the oppressed, the persecuted of the world: ๐–ณ๐–ง๐–ค ๐–ฅ๐–ด๐–ณ๐–ด๐–ฑ๐–ค ๐–จ๐–ฒ ๐–ก๐–ฑ๐–จ๐–ฆ๐–ง๐–ณ. Believe me.    

SIMON CHILEMBO
OSLO
NORWAY
July 03, 2023    



๐€๐‘๐“๐–๐Ž๐‘๐Š๐’ ๐€๐‹๐ˆ๐•๐„

Reserve Husband in House of Beautiful Things

In my Tumbuka tribe in Zambia, a man is his brothersโ€™ wivesโ€™ reserve husband. Traditionally, this is an informal but serious involuntary and platonic bond that commits the reserve husband to taking care of the sisters-in-law and, especially, the children, should some incapacitating or fatal misfortune visit the brother.

I am a single, never-been-married man with several wives from a few select blood brothers and bosom friends. I introduce one of the wives as I invite you on a day at my work place of beautiful things.

Our vehicle is the poem ARTWORKS ALIVE, which happens to be the very first piece in Onslaught 1 in the MACHONA GRIT poetry book.

Poems in Onslaught 1 reflect some aspects of my defiant intellectual, philosophical, and spiritual Personal Integrity Fortress against those that hate me.

๐€๐‘๐“๐–๐Ž๐‘๐Š๐’ ๐€๐‹๐ˆ๐•๐„
Separated
By the pond
Wife from another husband
My Dear Brother Ricky
Son Bolokiyoโ€™s
๐˜”๐˜ข๐˜ฎ๐˜ข ๐˜๐˜ช๐˜ค๐˜ต๐˜ฐ๐˜ณ๐˜ช๐˜ข and I
Met in the face of a book
In cyberspace
Celebrating her birthday
We took mikes and sang
We Djโ€™d
We danced
Fell on our backs in joy and laughter
We dropped the mikes
Went our separate ways
In the perennial dollar chase

๐˜ˆ๐˜ฎ๐˜ข๐˜ญ๐˜ถ๐˜ฎ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ˆ๐˜ญ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฎ๐˜ฆ๐˜ญ๐˜ข
Blazing in my head
Yandikani Lunguโ€™ spirit
With me in
๐˜”๐˜ถ๐˜ป๐˜ถ๐˜ฏ๐˜จ๐˜ถ ๐˜”๐˜ข๐˜ค๐˜ฉ๐˜ฐ๐˜ฏ๐˜ข๐˜ญ๐˜ข๐˜ฏ๐˜ฅ
In the north
From where lost souls never return
Black Diamonds
Hustling to bling
In the land of
Black gold

Got to work
Iโ€™m so happy
I feel
Artworksโ€™ eyes
On the walls
On me
I clear my head
I see
Artworks on the walls
Dance for me
Artworksโ€™ subjects
Come to life in the frames
[…]
๐—˜๐—ก๐——
ยฉSimon Chilembo 14/12-2022

SIMON CHILEMBO  
OSLO
NORWAY
TEL.: +92525032
April 07, 2023

RECOMMENDATION: Do you want to start writing your own blog or website? Try WordPress!

๐–๐‡๐€๐“ ๐ˆ๐’ ๐€๐‘๐“?

๐€๐Œ๐ˆ๐ƒ๐’๐“ ๐๐„๐€๐”๐“๐ˆ๐…๐”๐‹ ๐“๐‡๐ˆ๐๐†๐’

DISCLAIMER

I do not have any academic nor professional training in art. My articulation of what art is a function of my laymanโ€™s instinctual appreciation of things beautiful against the ugly; both in the figurative and abstract manifestations as my senses perceive it in any given situation and space, at any given time. All I know is how to think and write, and write and think. Art is what I feel. If I feel it, I can think it. If I think it, I can write it. Writing is my art, my artistic expression. Writing is what I do; all attributable to my academic training.   

WORKPLACE OF BEAUTIFUL THINGS

People do from time to time visit museums of all kinds for all kinds of recreational, educational, and research reasons. I work at Norwayโ€™s Nasjonalmuseet. The institution has proved to be an awesome literary creativeโ€™s wet dream for me as an author and poet. I get at least one goosebumps moment each day I am at work. Tens of thousands of works of art are on display throughout the eighty-nine exhibition spaces at the museum. In all their widely variable expressive forms, these artworks move me in a way that ever fills me with love and joy like I have never experienced before. Working here is a privilege I am much grateful for.

At different points in about all the exhibition spaces in the museum, there are rest stations comprising benches upon extensions of which are placed, amongst other items, wooden playing cards. The cards have various quizzes and games for the guests to have a go at as they sit and rest. I, together with Ole, a fine but ever condescending colleague young enough to be my grandson, happened to have been engaged in a discussion about various aspects of the museum when we approached one such station. Ole then unexpectedly reached out and randomly pulled out a card from the bench extension. It turned out to be a quiz card with the question: โ€˜What is Art?โ€™; creating a gotcha moment that I saw Ole revelling in.

Talking about Oleโ€™s gotcha moment, this was yet another one of those moments in which a person of European extraction comes to me with the pre-conditioned notion that Black people are not cultivated enough to appreciate the finer aspects of European culture. Anyhow, my immediate response, in this case, was, โ€œArt is the capturing of an experiential moment in time and space in order to, perhaps, tell a story about that experience in the future. This capture can be in any form or medium according to the proclivities and talents of the artist.โ€
Ole, โ€œI hear you. But you will have to elaborate more on all that you have just said!โ€ ย 
Seeing as we had to attend to each of our respective duties at work then, I replied, โ€œI shall write an essay for you, then. Deal?โ€
โ€œDeal!โ€

My definition of art shall be both conceptual and functional. Conceptually, I know art when I perceive it. I do not have to be told. I do not have to be instructed. I know art when my senses register it. Regardless of the representational form, the sentimental response that I get from experiencing any manifestation of art that I consider as beautiful is a constant. Conversely, an unattractive, unpleasant artistic form as I experience it emotionally affects me in the same way relevant to it irrespective of the form or the representational style.

Whenever I read a storybook (or even write one) that I enjoy, my breathing rate slows down, and the total bodily relaxation I get gives me a wonderful warm feeling all over; I get goosebumps, and my palms get warmer and moist. This kind of feeling brings me immense joy. The dreamy state it gets me into sends me into a fantasy world of all things possible. If I had been, for one reason or another, going through hard times, this state brings hope home; it fills me with a sweet sense of freedom. In this state, I am invincible. This is my subjective domain for defining what beautiful art is for me as my perceptive senses โ€“ eyes, ears, skin, tongue, nose, intuition โ€“ register it, feed my hormonal system (feel-good hormones), and the latter instructing my nervous system to induce my being to act accordingly. Pure joy.

Whilst recognizing it for what it is, art that is repugnant to me is exactly that. If it makes me cringe, if it casts a shadow of pessimism over me, if it fills me with negative thoughts and associations, if it gives me a cold sweat, then it is bad art for me. There are times when I can see beauty in bad, ugly art, though. I think about the hands, or some other body parts, that created the work. Every hand shall tell its story according to its ownerโ€™s neuro-hormonal wiring and physical capabilities. One manโ€™s apparent gory art may be anotherโ€™s depiction of heaven. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

Functionally, art is a conveyor of messages, a storyteller; a courier of generational narratives in humanityโ€™s dances with nature and itself over time. Art can be an instrument of change. Art can repair the once broken. Art can inspire hope, faith, trust, and love. To the extent that art is a personal expression, art may speak for its creator. Art creators have the potential to make or break society. Ask God, manโ€™s most divisive, master-of-carnage creation. God may have created man instead, her most complex work of art. The outcome is not any better.

Art is identity. Identity may be deception obscured in art. From the outset, art may be true by intent and purpose. But when human perception and interpretation of reality are as polychotomous as there are so many people on earth, art shall be true or fallacious as to the perceptive state and cognitive capacity of the observer. Therein lies the mystique, the intrigue of art. Who am I? I am a man in love with art.

Art is some powerful stuff. Art is a human creative potential deserving to be handled with tender, loving care. At its best, art is an instrument of peace; art has the potential to stimulate reflection on the human condition. We rise, we fall; art captures all that. Art is beauty. Without beauty, life is not worth living.

Beauty moves humanity forward and higher on the scale of qualitative and quantitative improvements in life. It is not for nothing that nations of the world, interest organizations of all sorts and sizes, wealthy individuals, and many others invest heavily in the promotion, conservation, preservation, and storage of some of our most impactful artworks over the epochs into the future. Art immortalizes human experience.

Introducing our beloved Rock & Roll Norwegian Royal Family. Long live The King!

SIMON CHILEMBO  
OSLO
NORWAY
TEL.: +92525032
April 07, 2023

RECOMMENDATION: Do you want to start writing own blog or website? Try WordPress!

Order, read, and be inspired by my latest and 9th book, 2nd poetry volume, MACHONA GRIT: Onslaught on Hate

๐€๐…๐‘๐ˆ๐‚๐€ ๐’๐‚๐‘๐„๐–๐„๐ƒ. ๐€๐…๐‘๐ˆ๐‚๐€ ๐‘๐€๐๐„๐ƒ.

๐—ก๐—ข ๐—›๐—ข๐— ๐—˜ ๐—™๐—ข๐—ฅ ๐—•๐—ฅ๐—œ๐—š๐—›๐—ง ๐— ๐—˜๐—ก

๐€๐‹๐Ž๐๐„ ๐ˆ๐ ๐๐Ž๐‘๐–๐€๐˜, ๐’๐‡๐€๐‹๐‹ ๐ˆ ๐‘๐„๐“๐”๐‘๐ ๐“๐Ž ๐€๐…๐‘๐ˆ๐‚๐€ ๐Ž๐‘ ๐๐Ž๐“ ๐”๐๐Ž๐ ๐Œ๐˜ ๐ˆ๐Œ๐๐„๐๐ƒ๐ˆ๐๐† ๐‘๐„๐“๐ˆ๐‘๐„๐Œ๐„๐๐“ ๐ˆ๐ ๐Ÿ๐ŸŽ๐Ÿ๐Ÿ•?

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, Iโ€™ll stay in Norway. I couldnโ€™t live in Africa. Suffering from chronic post-colonialism Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD), Africa is a place just too messed up for me. Iโ€™ve 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, Iโ€™d become a tyrant overnight as Iโ€™d 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

๐—ข๐—ก ๐—”๐—•๐—ข๐—ฅ๐—ง๐—œ๐—ข๐—ก: ๐—ฃ๐—”๐—ฅ๐—ง ๐—œ๐—œ

ษชษด๊œฐแดส€แดแด‡แด… ๊œฑแด›แด€ษดแด… แดษด แดกแดแดแด‡ษดโ€™๊œฑ ๊œฑแด‡xแดœแด€สŸ ส€แด‡แด˜ส€แดแด…แดœแด„แด›ษชแด แด‡ สœแด‡แด€สŸแด›สœ ส€ษชษขสœแด›๊œฑ

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. Itโ€™s all on Google. Itโ€™s 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 Iโ€™s 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, Iโ€™d have to stop schooling, go find work, and earn some money to continue where theyโ€™d have left to financially support the family. The idea that Iโ€™d defy the misfortune fate of my people had already been long engrained in my head. Therefore, it wasnโ€™t 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.

Iโ€™m 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 havenโ€™t been able to be there for my half-siblings from my fatherโ€™s 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. Thatโ€™s 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 peopleโ€™s 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 communityโ€™s 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 didnโ€™t 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 donโ€™t 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, thatโ€™d 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 โ€˜o senyehileโ€™. It means that โ€˜she is destroyedโ€™. And sheโ€™ll be treated as such by both her family and the community. Sheโ€™s brought shame not only to the family but everyone around her. At worst, sheโ€™d 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 girlโ€™s life has been destroyed this way, culminating in suicides in the extreme.

โ€˜O ntshitse mpaโ€™ translates as โ€˜She has taken out the stomachโ€™. Abortion is described as โ€˜Ho ntsha mpaโ€™ in Sesotho, therefore. Graphically, โ€˜Ho ntsha mpaโ€™ as a process means โ€˜to remove the stomachโ€™. Consequently, Iโ€™ve 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 thatโ€™s 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 womanโ€™s 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 womenโ€™s 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        

๐‘๐„๐๐‹๐€๐‚๐„๐Œ๐„๐๐“ ๐“๐‡๐„๐Ž๐‘๐˜ ๐“๐”๐‘๐๐„๐ƒ ๐€๐‘๐Ž๐”๐๐ƒ

๐–๐ก๐ข๐ญ๐ž ๐’๐ฎ๐ฉ๐ซ๐ž๐ฆ๐š๐œ๐ฒ ๐’๐ฅ๐š๐ฉ๐ฉ๐ž๐ ๐ข๐ง ๐ญ๐ก๐ž ๐…๐š๐œ๐ž

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

ยฉSimon Chilembo 2021

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 Leoneโ€™s 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 motherโ€™s 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
Iโ€™m in Europe
Begging bowl
In my hands
โ€œ๐˜๐˜ข๐˜ฏ๐˜จ ๐˜”๐˜ช๐˜ฌ๐˜ฆ ๐˜—๐˜ฆ๐˜ฏ๐˜ค๐˜ฆ!โ€ noose
Around my neck
Waiting for me
To take just one misstep
To lynch me

ยฉSimon Chilembo 2021

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 Mฤori 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 didnโ€™t just happen

ยฉSimon Chilembo 2021

Beyond Peleโ€™s 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
Thatโ€™s 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
๐˜“๐˜ฆ๐˜ด ๐˜ช๐˜ฎ๐˜ฎ๐˜ช๐˜จ๐˜ณรฉ๐˜ด ๐˜ฅ๐˜ถ ๐˜ฎ๐˜ฐ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฅ๐˜ฆ
๐˜๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ๐˜ฅ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฏ๐˜ด ๐˜ถ๐˜ต๐˜ท๐˜ข๐˜ฏ๐˜ฅ๐˜ณ๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ๐˜ฆ
๐˜‰๐˜ข๐˜ต๐˜ด๐˜ข๐˜ฎ๐˜ข๐˜ช ๐˜ฃ๐˜ข ๐˜ญ๐˜ฆ๐˜ง๐˜ข๐˜ต๐˜ด๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ
๐˜ˆ๐˜ฎ๐˜ข๐˜จ๐˜ฐ๐˜ฅ๐˜ถ๐˜ฌ๐˜ข
๐˜–๐˜ฎ๐˜ข๐˜ค๐˜ฉ๐˜ฐ๐˜ฏ๐˜ข
Want not to kill anybody
Want not to rape anybody
Want not to plunder anybodyโ€™s 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 donโ€™t crack
Goes the rap
Letโ€™s 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, yโ€™all 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
๐˜‘๐˜ฆ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฆ๐˜ป๐˜ถ๐˜ป๐˜ป๐˜ป
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 havenโ€™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 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.

ยฉSimon Chilembo 2020

RECOMMENDATION: Do you want to start writing own blog or website? Try WordPress!

๐’๐„๐‹๐„๐‚๐“๐ˆ๐•๐„ ๐๐‹๐„๐„๐ƒ๐ˆ๐๐†

๐‘๐š๐œ๐ข๐ฌ๐ฆ ๐ข๐ง ๐–๐š๐ซ: ๐“๐ก๐ž ๐”๐ค๐ซ๐š๐ข๐ง๐ž ๐‚๐š๐ฌ๐ž ๐Ÿ๐จ๐ซ ๐€๐ฆ๐ž๐ซ๐ข๐œ๐š

Abused people
Adaptive people
Admirable people
Adventurous people
Alert people
Amazing people
Ambitious people

Ancient people
Appreciated people
Assertive people
Athletic people
Attractive people
Awesome people

Beautiful people
Blessed people
Blue eyes people
Boisterous people
Bravado people
Brave people
Brazen people
Bright people
Brilliant people

Capitalist people
Change people
Cheated people
Chosen people
Civilized people
Classy people
Clean people
Close to home people
Combative people
Competitive people
Confused people
Conscious people

Conservative people
Considerate people
Co-operative people
Creative people
Credible people
๐˜Š๐˜ณรจ๐˜ฎ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ฅ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ญ๐˜ข ๐˜ค๐˜ณรจ๐˜ฎ๐˜ฆ people
Critical people
Cultured people
Curious people

Daring people
Decent people
Demanding people
Democracy people
Deprived people
Deserving people
Desperate people
Determined people
Dignified people
Dominant people

Educated people
Emotive people
English speaking people
Entitled people
Eurasian people
European people
Exemplary people
Exhausted people

Faith people
Family people
Fertile people
First World people
Fleeing people
Flexible people
Free people
Freezing people
Frustrated people

Gifted people
Graceful people
Gracious people
Grateful people

Hard-working people
Hardy people
Heroic people
High tech people
Higher people
Hilarious people
Historic people
Hopeful people
Hungry people

Imperial people
Incredible people
Independent people
Industrious people
Information age people
Informed people
Innovative people
Intelligent people
Intuitive people
Leading people
Liberal people
Liberated people
Liberty people
Life-loving people
Like you and me people
Literate people
Live next-door people
Loveable people
Loyal people
Methodical people
Middle class people
Modern people
Money people
Moving people

Non-Communist people
Non-Marxist people
Non-Socialist people
Normal people

Open people
Oppressed people
Optimistic people
Our people

Palatable people
Party people
Passionate people
Patient people
Powerful people
Productive people
Prolific people
Proud people

Realistic people
Rebellious people
Refugee people
Related people
Religious people
Resilient people
Resourceful people
Responsible people
Revolution people
Robbed people
Robust people

Sacrificial people
Same people
Savvy people
Sensitive people
Separated people
Skilled people
Slavic people
Smart people
Sophisticated people
Sovereign people

Special people
Spirited people
Splendid people
Split up people
Strong people
Strong-willed people
Suffering people
Superb people
Supportive people
Survivor people
Sweet people

Talented people
Tenacious people
Terrific people
Terrified people
Thinking people
Traumatized people
Trendy people

Ukraine people
United people
Upper class people
Urbane people
Visible people
Wanderer people
Warrior people
Wealthy people
Well-off people
Well-read people
Wise people
Wonderful people
Worn out people
White people

Africans
Afro people
Arabs
Asians
Bitches
Black people
Buddhists
Christians
Coloured people
Hindus
Jews
Junkies
Latinos
LGBTQS
Muslims
People of colour
Sikhs
Weirdos

Again
Asking for a friend
Who is better
Who is worse

Who is who
To judge

My friend wants to know
Some more
Should the fascists
Have it their way
Whatโ€™ll happen to
American women
American children
American weak and vulnerable
When the second civil war
Has set
America burning
Whites scrambling for supremacy
Blacks insisting that
Their lives matter
In the inferno

Onlookers denigrating
From behind the southern border wall
America on fire
Burn motherfucker
Burn
Fat lady ainโ€™t gonna sing
Anytime soon

Who whines
๐˜•๐˜บ๐˜ธ๐˜ฆ-๐˜ฏ๐˜บ๐˜ธ๐˜ฆ now
As in
๐˜”๐˜ข๐˜ฌ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ˆ๐˜ฎ๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ๐˜ช๐˜ค๐˜ข ๐˜Ž๐˜ณ๐˜ฆ๐˜ข๐˜ต ๐˜ˆ๐˜จ๐˜ข๐˜ช๐˜ฏ
๐˜›๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ๐˜บ ๐˜ด๐˜ต๐˜ฐ๐˜ญ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ฆ๐˜ญ๐˜ฆ๐˜ค๐˜ต๐˜ช๐˜ฐ๐˜ฏ
๐˜‹๐˜ข๐˜ฎ๐˜ฏ ๐˜ด๐˜ญ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฑ๐˜บ ๐˜‘๐˜ฐ๐˜ฆ
๐˜’๐˜ฉ๐˜ฎ๐˜ข๐˜ญ๐˜ข-๐˜ฌ๐˜ฉ๐˜ข๐˜ฎ๐˜ข๐˜ญ๐˜ข
๐˜•๐˜ฐ๐˜ฏ-๐˜ด๐˜ฆ๐˜ฆ ๐˜—๐˜ญ๐˜ฐ๐˜ฐ๐˜ด๐˜ฆ๐˜ฆ
๐˜๐˜ฎ๐˜ฑ๐˜ฆ๐˜ข๐˜ค๐˜ฉ๐˜ฎ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฏ๐˜ต
๐˜™๐˜ถ๐˜ด๐˜ฉ๐˜บ๐˜ข-๐˜ณ๐˜ถ๐˜ด๐˜ฉ๐˜บ๐˜ข๐˜ข๐˜ขโ€ฆ

Keep God out of this
Itโ€™s about us
๐„๐๐ƒ
ยฉSimon Chilembo 07/03-2022

SIMON CHILEMBO
OSLO
NORWAY
TEL.: +4792525032
March 09, 2022


BOOKS

To Ban or Not to Burn

At eight-to-nine-years of age, 1968-69, I was too young to see the implications of not attending school for two years. My Grade 1 year at St. Rose Primary School, Peka, Lesotho, was a long one. It lasted from age four-and-half, 1965, to six-and-half years old, 1967. I, at instant notice and under dramatic circumstances, had to leave Lesotho in the earlier part of 1969. There was no time to acquire school reports and formalized school transfer documents to enable me to continue with schooling in South Africa. Not that I knew anything about such documents at that time, though. In any case, my expectation had been that Iโ€™d return to my school in Lesotho once the situation had become normal and safe again.

ยฉSimon Chilembo 2022
Author/ Storyteller/ Poet/ Publisher/ Warrior/ Machona Son

Towards the end of 1969, I had already begun to discern the bigger social dynamics around me. That applied to both in my home and with regard to the extended family relations, as well as the wider society to the extent that a nine-year-old child can make sense of their world. It hit me like a bomb, therefore, when my parents unexpectedly made it clear to me that schooling in Lesotho was over for my younger brother, Thabo, and I. Weโ€™d resume studies in my motherโ€™s hometown, Thaba Nchu, 210km to the south of my hometown, Welkom. We had been to the former to celebrate Christmas 1969 with my uncle Mosesโ€™ new and young family.

The anger and frustration I felt towards my parents at that time hurt me so much that it felt like I had river stones in my stomach. This feeling of profound disappointment and helplessness would last the entire two years that Thabo and I stayed in Thaba Nchu. That Iโ€™d have a bad relationship with my uncle Mosesโ€™ wife didnโ€™t help matters much. I became a bundle of mental and physical tension. Otherwise a generally happy-go-lucky child up to that point, I became unruly in my uncleโ€™s home.

Understanding Thabo and Iโ€™s plight regarding education access given our background, Mr Justice Mmekwa facilitated Thabo and Iโ€™s resumption of schooling in Thaba Nchu. Eldest son of my uncleโ€™s landlady, โ€˜Masang, he was a respected primary school Principal in a neighbouring town called Tweespruit.  Without this kind manโ€™s help, it would have been extremely difficult to find any school places for us in then Apartheid South Africa. As an independent, non-racial state, Lesotho represented values contrary to those of then anti-Black progress racist Apartheid South Africa.

I remain eternally grateful to Principal Justice Mmekwa for his assistance, support, and inspiration. He was a man of class; ever well-groomed. A fine family man exuding charisma that few of my adult male role models of the time had. Other than the traditional Barolong Chief, and Mr Ngophe the trader in the neighbourhood, the Principal was the only man with a car. The latterโ€™s black Mercedes Benz power machine made my fatherโ€™s then blue Opel Rekord car look like a toy beside the former. No doubt, the man is one of those lasting I wanna be like that when I grow up references in my life. I had already begun to be aware of my predisposition towards being there for the weak and vulnerable in times of need. Principal Mmekwaโ€™s gesture enhanced that attribute in me.

ยฉSimon Chilembo 2022
Author/ Storyteller/ Poet/ Publisher/ Warrior/ Machona Son

A fixed image of Principal Mmekwa in my head is that of him majestically stepping out of his car each time he arrived home from work; a rolled newspaper clutched under his left armpit, with a book in the hand. On the right hand he would be carrying the most beautiful leather briefcase Iโ€™ve ever seen. In tweed outfits (never a suit), a Stetson on his head, and a smoking pipe jutting from his mouth, he was a sight to behold. His โ€œDumelang, bana! Hello, children!โ€ baritone voice resonates in my head to this day. His eyes were the suns.

In January, 1970, Thabo and I were well-received by the Principal of the then newly-opened Namanyane Primary School in Selosesha Township. The Principal, whose name Iโ€™ve forgotten, was another affable man. It was advantageous that it turned out that he was homeboy with my mother and uncle Moses from their village, Paradys, about 30km from Thaba Nchu town.

Thabo and Iโ€™s respective class teachers and others were really nice to us. That made the two years at the school very enjoyable for me indeed. Whilst at school, I could forget about the unpleasant atmosphere at home with my aunt. I had already experienced the joy of choral music singing in Lesotho. However, I got the first ever taste of inter-school choral singing competitions at the new school. In my head, it is as if there was singing every day of school during the years 1970-71. The sounds of rehearsals voices of different categories of singing according to age and song vocalization skills still buzz in my head in my moments of meditative inner silence.

I got the first taste of formal competition victory when my choir, the Junior Choir, won the regional schools choral music competition in 1970. The category song was called Mmino wa Pino/ Singing of a Song. It spoke about the universal appeal of music; how it, music, defied all the prevalent artificial discriminatory practices in society. My eyes began to open to Apartheid in a critical way at about this time. My life would never be the same again.

ยฉSimon Chilembo 2022
Author/ Storyteller/ Poet/ Publisher/ Warrior/ Machona Son

It is also at this time that I began to consciously think about the big questions of life around hate, love, peace, and all other tendencies reflecting inequities around me. Inspired by the Apollo 11 moon landing in the previous year, I recall one day wondering if it were possible to relocate to another place far, far away from all the evils of mankind on earth.

At the same time, I discovered that whereas I was in Grade 3 that year, 1970, several of my agemates were two to four classes ahead of me. In no time I had figured it out that the situation was due to the fact that I had lost the two school years of 1968-69. The difference would probably had not been that much had I progressed normally from Grade 1 in 1965, I reckoned.

If I ever had a sore moment at Namanyane Primary School in Thaba Nchu, it was the illumination of how much schooling time I had previously foregone due to circumstances beyond my control. The school Principal, my class teacher and some of their colleagues also found it hard to understand how I could have academically stayed that far behind my contemporaries. This enhanced my new sense of bewilderment here. I was actually a brilliant pupil. And, ideas of what I wanted to be when grown up were already crystallizing in my head. I began to wonder some more about whether there didnโ€™t exist another place far, far away where I could get educated quickly to be a doctor without having to bother about the other kids that I felt had had an unfair lead over me. Visions of living in other worlds preoccupied my mind from then on.

Thinking about the moon was not exciting because I had already learned that normal human life was impossible out there. But the moon remained a major point of reference until in my class we began to read stories and answer questions from books. We began to read and write down our answers to the questions set in the books. This was a major leap from verbally answering questions from texts our teacher would have read to us.

I donโ€™t recall any of the stories the teacher ever read to us. But I know that listening to them induced in me a feeling of flying away like a bird during the reading sรฉances. This gave me a special inner peace that detached me from my frustrations with my derailed academic progress. In this state of mind, negative forces around me ceased to matter. The challenge, though, was that the reading sessions were ever so short. Nevertheless, that made me to ever want to look forward to going to school the following day. Truly happy memories.

ยฉSimon Chilembo 2022
Author/ Storyteller/ Poet/ Publisher/ Warrior/ Machona Son

We may have read more stories when the time came for us to read our recommended class text book on our own. Thatโ€™s because the first two stories I remember, and got to make a lasting impression on me, were somewhere in the middle of the book. Both in appropriate condensed forms, the first story was about a man whose tragic life led him to unknowingly kill his father, and end up marrying and having four children with his own mother. The second story was about two men in an intense competition to reach the South Pole one before the other.   

My class teacher made it clear that the first story was not for real. It was created a long, long, long time ago by a writer and thinker from an overseas land called Greece. Although it was a story too difficult to discuss thoroughly then, she told us that its idea was that sometimes we cannot escape what destiny had in store for us. It was therefore important to aspire to be as descent a human being as possible, despite the troubles of our world. She went on to say that we were going to read even more books as we grew older and progressed with our education.

โ€œBooks are a safe store of knowledge about who we are; just like banks keep our money safe,โ€ she concluded.

As regards the second story, it was from reality, the teacher enlightened us. The story highlighted the importance of determination towards the achievement of our goals as we grew older. She said that books that tell real life stories teach us about what it takes to attain certain goals. The books help us to learn not to make the same mistakes that the writers shall highlight in their stories.

โ€œReal life story books teach us how to be human in ways we should easily relate to, even if we could never replicate events of the stories as they are narrated in the books,โ€ the teacher said. She went on to say that it was the aim of acting in the bioscope and theatre stages to seek to bring book stories close to life as much as possible. Some of us would be actors when grown up, maybe?

Two years later, Iโ€™d see for the first time a professional theatrical performance: Sikhalo, by the legendary South African playwright, Gibson Kente. This play brought home to me a clearer picture of the Black condition under Apartheid South Africa. I got a better understanding of the monster. The monster had to die, even if many of my people had to die in the process. We could cry and laugh away our troubles through the arts. Education was a crucial weapon in our struggle for freedom. If education was found in books, then Iโ€™d  read and read them all.   

It was one thing to hear the teacherโ€™s philosophical discourse on the stories and the value of books. From reading and understanding the essence of the stories, what happened with me was that my mind for the first time in my life saw the existence of other worlds on earth. I could, perhaps, escape to these new places for my peace of mind. The more I read, the more the world, life, made sense to me, for better and for worse. The more I wanted to explore human nature in order that I might better understand myself and my purpose in life.

The interesting coincidence is that I have now been living in Norway, the land of Roald Amundsen, one of the two South Pole explorers mentioned above, for nearly thirty-four years. Greece was my first encounter with Europe in 1985. Talk about fate!

ยฉSimon Chilembo 2022
Author/ Storyteller/ Poet/ Publisher/ Warrior/ Machona Son

I came to Norway via Zambia, my fatherland. Landing in Zambia in March, 1975, would turn out to be a thirteen yearsโ€™ enduring be careful what you ask for moment. Zambia took me down, took me up, tossed me mid-air in stormy weathers, took me up and up to finally thrust me even farther away to new lands in my pursuit of a suitable place for my peace of mind. Thanks to Zambia, upon my landing in Oslo in August, 1988, I was a mean physical fighting machine, a polished rising international intellectual powerhouse with, of course, a taste for the finer things in life. Zambia gave me tough lessons in how to be a man of the world. Such that, no, landing and eventually living in Norway has never been a culture shock trip for me.

The two years prior to my parents relocating the family to Zambia, 1972-74, presented me with a trove of pubertal-early-teens growing up thrills: consolidation of my sense of identity, winning respect from my peers, earning own cash, rock-and-roll with girls, street survival mentoring from older friends of both sexes, travelling, sport, and much more. At school I was a star by default. The vision of my being a doctor when grown up was becoming more and more real. That as talk about beginning to look for potential bursary/ scholarship sources for me had begun. I got inspired to want to read more and more intensely so as to maintain my top-of-the-class status at school.

Reading then involved a great deal of cramming, especially during examination seasons in June and November/ December every year. For homework assignments, I could in one sitting lasting perhaps an hour, read and memorize all the recommended texts for the day in all the subjects: English, Afrikaans, Maths, History/ Social Studies, General Science, and Bible Studies. That was the most natural thing for me to do at the time. However, it used to baffle me when some of my classmates used to complain about how difficult it was for them to either find time or concentration to read at home. I didnโ€™t know how I could help them; neither was I keen to, really, because competition for academic excellence was very stiff. Only the very best of the best got access to the extremely scarce bursaries/ scholarships provided by various private business entities and rich individuals.

Extra-curricular reading during this time mainly comprised newspapers, various weekly and monthly entertainment magazines and comics. Bible stories of Moses, Samson, Kings David and Solomon captured my imagination in a huge way. So, I read the Bible a lot. Some of the best literature-induced mental travels Iโ€™ve ever had have been during this time. Reflections over the adventures of the mentioned figures have lastingly influenced my view of life.

Moses opened my eyes to the sense of devotion. Samsonโ€™s warrior heart ceases never to give me goose bumps; his wife, Delilahโ€™s betrayal of him may just be one of the reasons Iโ€™ve yet to get hitched. I donโ€™t know. King David and his sonโ€™s lust issues gave me a special perspective about power and sex. And, then, King Solomonโ€™s proverbs in praise of his women paved the way for the lessons of love that Iโ€™d later read about in greater depth in The Perfumed Garden. I learned from the latter book that if I wanted to maximally enjoy physical intimacy with a woman, I must handle her with utmost tenderness, just like when I consume my favourite juicy fruit. This book broadened the mystery of misogyny and violence against women. Beats me.

After over three months on the rails and road, we arrived in Lusaka a tired family unit. The journey had been hard on us on many fronts. Our joy at having finally arrived home turned into acute disillusionment within a matter of days. Longstanding conflicts in my fatherโ€™s family made it difficult for us to bond. Subsequently, at different times and under different circumstances, my parents, my two surviving younger siblings and I would leave Zambia. The youngest sibling, Dintletse, died and was buried in Lusaka in 1983. I came to Norway, whilst the others returned to South Africa.

ยฉSimon Chilembo 2022
Author/ Storyteller/ Poet/ Publisher/ Warrior/ Machona Son

Starting with my uncle, Mr OB Chilemboโ€™s private library at home, arrival in Zambia was an introduction to a world of books like I had never seen before. In the home library, I could mentally fly away from bitterness bordering on hate in my family situation then: Iโ€™d find myself following murder investigations in the USA, falling in love with English women in London, fighting in World Wars 1 and 2, investigating human nature as a psychologist, defending criminals in courts all over the world, singing and dancing Jazz on Broadway, playing World Cup football, getting lost in the Sahara, robbing banks in Paris and Rome, escaping from Russian labour camps in Siberia, pretending to be dead in Mao Tse Tungโ€™s Chinaโ€™s rice paddies, hiking across Australia, and much more.

The comfort I derived from reading books was like no other. I donโ€™t quite exactly remember what specific books and other publications I read especially throughout the rest of 1975, when I didnโ€™t attend school. But I know for sure that much of the reading helped me make sense of my reality. That way I could, indeed, find some peace in my inner world.

I found the reading culture in Zambia amazing both in magnitude and diversity. Even Radio Zambia had an African Literature reading hour most working day afternoons, if I recall. Zambians had no culture of displaying their book collections on shelves in living rooms. Iโ€™ve met numerous foreigners who had concluded that Zambians were not well-read for not having showy bookshelves in their houses. Quite the contrary.

Well-off Zambians like my uncle had private libraries, as Iโ€™ve already alluded to above. Otherwise, people valued their book collections so much that they kept them in their bedrooms, or such other private spaces. Others concealed the books in locked, opaque cupboards in their living spaces. Upon entering my uncleโ€™ spacious living and dining area, including a bar, there was almost never a book to see.

Uncle OB has on more than one occasion spoken in awe about how vast a collection of exclusive books two of his contemporaries had in their private libraries. Only selected individuals could enter here. If you didnโ€™t ask, or you didnโ€™t get caught up in a heated debate necessitating available literary referencing, youโ€™d not likely see your Zambian hostโ€™s book collection. Erudite or not, Zambians can be formidable debaters, if not orators, thriving on the pedantic.     

ยฉSimon Chilembo 2022
Author/ Storyteller/ Poet/ Publisher/ Warrior/ Machona Son

With time, some of my paternal cousins of my age took me to the Lusaka City Library. I donโ€™t recall ever reading or borrowing a book from there. But the picture of me walking around and around the library gazing at the books in amazement for what felt like hours on end, day after day, never leaves my mind. I had never seen that many and huge book walls anywhere.

The following year, 1976, I started schooling in Grade 7 at Lusakaโ€™s Olympia Primary School. That a mobile clinic came to the school for pupilsโ€™ periodic medical check-ups and the like wasnโ€™t such a big deal. But the first day a mobile library came over, I was positively shocked beyond words. It soon dawned upon me that, with such ample access to books, it was no wonder that Zambian Black people were not only doctors and nurses, they were pilots, train drivers, army commanders, and all sorts of things Black people of South Africa were not.

Iโ€™d eventually be member of both the British Council and American libraries in Lusaka. From the former, a book on running made the biggest impression on me. Such that when my Karate teacher and life mentor, Professor Stephen Chan, OBE, suggested that we, the then senior-most students at the University of Zambia Karate Club in 1983, take part in the maiden Lusaka Marathon run that year, I had long been mentally ready for it.

From the American library, the one book that made the biggest impression on me was on the freedom of speech concept. I recall its stand that whereas freedom of speech was indeed a fundamental human right, it was important to remember that there are moral and legal constraints as to how far we could say what we will on any subject, to anybody. Freedom of speech is not an entitlement to be malicious to others. In connection with the freedom of speech ideas, the book also touched the subject of truth telling. It argued that truth must be told always, but not necessarily at any cost. If currently telling the truth could cause more harm than good, then it may not be a bad idea to withhold it until conditions are more favourable, if ever.

ยฉSimon Chilembo 2022
Author/ Storyteller/ Poet/ Publisher/ Warrior/ Machona Son

And then in 1982-86, the University of Zambia Library became my books haven. Many of us students and the academic staff did our research here. This institution consolidated the intellectual foundation upon which this my new writing career stands.

During the years preceding university studies commencement, I used to have much informal political education talks with a selection of some older South African freedom fighter veterans based in Lusaka in those days.

One of the veterans, Comrade Lerumo, once said to me, โ€œSy, when you analyse any issue, you must always look at it from both opposing sides. When you read in your research, read books, or any other relevant form of written presentation, articulated from opposing perspectives. Do the same when you listen to world news on the radio; listen to everybody, whether you agree with them or not. Thatโ€™s how we become intellectual powerhouses, able to solve problems effectively as they arise because we know how everybody thinks.โ€

Comrade Lerumo went on to say, โ€œThe sad situation is that surprisingly many of our leaders in exile donโ€™t read. If they do read at all, itโ€™ll be a book on Marxism here, Che Guevara there, and Chairman Moa there and there. Theyโ€™ll recite a stanza or two of a Shakespeare and think that they are smart. Tragic!โ€

ยฉSimon Chilembo 2020
Author/ Storyteller/ Poet/ Publisher/ Warrior/ Machona Son

The UNZA Library provided me with all the books I ever needed for a successful university  studies career. These days I have access to major world libraries in the palms of my hand, at the tips of my fingers. In principle, no one can hide from me a once formally published book. No one can absolutely hinder me from publishing a book, formally or otherwise.

From the outset I write with good intentions. I write with a pure heart, my imperfections notwithstanding. Because Iโ€™m non-cantankerous by propensity, I consciously choose to write non-offensive, uplifting books; upholding principles of freedom of speech and truth telling with responsibility. At the same time, I do not expect that my writings shall be appreciated by all. Iโ€™m not a popularity contests writer. I write as a free spirit without fear or favour, simply practicing what book reading has taught me over the years. Itโ€™s a privilege to have the opportunity to contribute to the growth of humanityโ€™s reading material data base.

Writing books has liberated my soul. The worlds I create with my books instil in me a sense of peace and love beyond words. Each publication of any writing of mine is an attempt to portray the workings of the peace and love that I feel. Although it is for the observer to judge my deeds, inside of me I feel Iโ€™ve become a better person breathing and walking as an author.  Books have outright saved my life. In more ways than one. Plain and simple.

ยฉSimon Chilembo 2022
Author/ Storyteller/ Poet/ Publisher/ Warrior/ Machona Son

If we want this our world to be a better place for all, it’s symptomatic of intellectual bankruptcy to ban books that tell and expose truths about transgressions we have historically, and continue to commit over one another. That depending on the balances of power according to race, political orientation, and other artificial human discriminatory categories and practices.                     

Good or bad, truthful or malicious, once a book is written and published, itโ€™ll stand the test of time in numerous formats. Thatโ€™s why we have, amongst others, national libraries and archives. Power is in writing another book to counter or falsify a book that proliferates undesirable messages. Better yet, power is in writing another book to take already existing progressive literature to ever higher levels.

Banning of books prejudicially classified by powers that be is tantamount to running away from the truth, running away from the self. Banning of books is denialism of the existence of oneโ€™s deeds tracks in history. Banning of books fakes presentation of the present as if the present begins and ends in itself. Living the present on fake presuppositions is sure a promise of a future of ignorance and non-sustainable existential premises. As it is, it is evident that a current exercise of banning of books enshrining enlightenment and wisdom is a consequence of forces of ignorance and destruction having had the upper hand in the past, distant and near.

Truth frightens the guilty. Cowards fear for life confrontations of truths about themselves. They shall ban and burn books, they shall incarcerate and murder writers, but cowards in the form of fascists shall never ever succeed in erasing the urge for truth search and expression that is at the core of being human.

In the 21st Century of unprecedented potential for making planet earth a place called heaven for all, USA (The Ununited States of America), the most powerful nation on earth, is in an orgy of banning books. As if the Coronavirus pandemic and the January 6 insurrection werenโ€™t bad enough. Amongst others, these books lay bare the truths about one of the essential elements of the foundations upon which the economic might of the USA stands: the trans-Atlantic slave trade. This endeavour inhumanely uprooted African people to go and work in slavery the initially cotton-based American agro-industry.

Classified as inferior humans, American-enslaved Africans lived and worked under the most appalling, dehumanizing conditions. Modern day USA racism against people of African descent and others stems from the earliest days of European settlement and subsequent colonization of the north American continent. Truth as plain and undeniable as can be.

Slavery in the USA formally ended in 1865. In the Euro-USA context, though, racism as a social construct continues to seek to perpetuate artificial racial inequalities that have been developed to sustain oppression of Black and other People of Colour. This phenomenon is experienced in other parts of the world also (The Middle East, China, Eurasia), notably Australia, South Africa, and other areas of the world where Euro colonialism has had a lasting imprint. The idea being to infinitely suppress the oppressed so as to maintain them in perpetual subservience. That way forcing them, the People of Colour, to continue selling themselves cheaply for the benefit of the superior White race. Baloney, of course.

Through research and critical analysis of historical facts, books are written in order that knowledge about the truth about where the USA comes from, and what values make and break it can be disseminated as wide and durably as possible. In here is included books countering anti-Semitic literature and the anti-Jewish sentiment as a whole, both in the USA, Europe, and globally.

ยฉSimon Chilembo 2022
Author/ Storyteller/ Poet/ Publisher/ Warrior/ Machona Son

Banning and burning of books is knowledge dissemination delayed and denied. I shudder to think about the future of America when literacy rates are as low as they are today. All explicable in historical terms, of course. When some of the leading books banning proponents are Ivy League universities graduates, it may be arguable that many a student enter these institutions with but half-baked academic maturity. No wonder the country is in such a socio-politico mess spearheaded by educated fools. Unversed American children raised by conspiracy theories pregnant America can only but keep the fires of American Nightmare burning in all perpetuity. Trash begets trash. In that case, they can ban me with pleasure for my broken Dream of America.

In Africa, an educated fool emerged from anti-liberation struggle imprisonment once. He had seven university degrees to his name. Obtained from studies behind prison walls with limited access to relevant research literature, the degrees could only have been half-baked. The man brought his country to its knees. He is dead now. His country is on stumps; amputation wounds chronically infected. No school books in the country. Teachers are running away before they lose their knees. Future of intellectually bankrupt America as dire as that of country balancing on stumps that wonโ€™t heal. ย ย ย ย ย ย ย 

SIMON CHILEMBO
OSLO
NORWAY
TEL.: +4792525032
February 05, 2022

TO BOOSTER OR NOT TO BOOSTER

SCIENCE WORKS

I didnโ€™t announce my Covid-19 booster jab uptake in the second week of December, 2021. There were more important matters to give priority to at that time. Besides, Iโ€™m under no obligation to fuss about my vaccination status. It isnโ€™t as if Iโ€™m an attention-seeking freak on the radar of 15-minutes of fame news media platforms, or some socio-politico special interests groups. Neither am I promoting nor am I linked to any commercial or industrial entities in the pharmaceutical and medical business spheres.

I am an independent thinker and observer of my world; a one-man intellectual and creative powerhouse. Nobody owns me. I own nobody. I autonomously synthesize my life philosophy out of all the knowledge resources accessible to me at any one time in my free world.  

Some people in my various social and professional networks wonder about where all this Corona hassle and the vaccine hysteria will end. They ask me if I shall take jab number four should yet another significant Coronavirus disease variant emerge. But, of course, I shall, yes!

I will happily take all the jabs that official medical and state authorities recommend according to the situation as it unfolds. Thatโ€™ll be so to the extent that my physical and mental health does not fail me. The assumption being that, in the latter wellness state, I continue to be able to discern crap from science and reason. The day I cease to think about, and see my world from a perspective of science and reason, I might as well be dead.

Science doesnโ€™t stop working. Science in all its natural and sociological branches is about querying the nature of our material and conceptual existence. Science is ever curious about elements of existence concerning the extent to which our senses relate to our existential realities within the accessible universe and beyond. This is called Scientific Research. The basic idea is the need to understand the workings of nature contra our place in it.

In the pursuit of knowledge acquisition, science travels millions of light-years into space, defies suboceanic and subterranean pressures, and breaks down matter to the smallest particles. Human progress as we know it today is a living showcase of the workings of science applied in the total upliftment of the human condition worldwide. How equitable or not that human condition is across the board is a matter for discussion at another time, another place.

In a perfect world, therefore, itโ€™s through understanding maximally possible the essence of nature and its attributes that we can harness its potential to enhance our quality of life on earth. In the hands of screwed-up minds, knowledge of the potential and limitations of nature is, indeed, used to degrade, if not destroy life on earth. In this case, knowledge is worse than ignorance. Ignorance is the conduit of ill intentions of the malevolent.

ยฉSimon Chilembo 2020

Working hand-in-hand, malicious knowledge and inherently uncritical ignorance make for the prevalence of detrimental conspiracy theories in times of uncertainties and imminent paradigm shifts in society. The latter may be due to man-made, or natural calamities at any level, necessitating that we, humanity, have to dig deep into our knowledge base to find solutions to existential threats pertaining. The current Coronavirus pandemic and the Global Warming crisis are relevant examples. Also, not in the least, the pandemic of pathological ignorance thatโ€™s characterizing many a calamitously dysfunctional, tyrannical national leader in the world today. This is where and when science shines through Research and Development. In-depth sociological research and analysis seek to find and correct incongruencies societal engineering mechanisms as developed and applied by the state and its relevant functional units.

Science doesnโ€™t stop working because itโ€™s not an end in itself. Science is not absolute in its dynamics and outcomes. For anticipated scientific outcomes to be true, certain material and operational parameters have to be defined and fulfilled. Science work starts from known facts or assumptions, natural or constructed, regarding the phenomena to be investigated. For science, its methods, and subsequent outcomes to remain true, they have to be functionally and outcomes constant. Moreover, and decisively, they have to be universally applicable.

When things go wrong, as they will always do, science pauses and checks for any errors that may have led to the disruption. Once identified, the errors might be rectified accordingly, or modifications might be effected as necessary. Itโ€™s the nature of science to ever strive to find universally applicable solutions. In cases of perfect states of operations leading to perfect outcomes, science strives to improve processes to take the outcomes to the next level. This is scientific innovation: making it better all the time to achieve higher productivity and product efficacy levels.  

The element of positive chance outcomes does occur in scientific work. These positive outcomes arising may be integrated to take the current work to the next level. That only to the extent that the former remain universally constant according to standard, or relevantly adjusted parameters, as well as routines.  

Just as science anticipates and warns across the world, people not taking recommended Covid-19 vaccinations are dying like flies caught up in insecticide spray mists. My sympathy extends to those that couldnโ€™t take any vaccines due to scientifically justifiable reasons. From a basic humane perspective, though, I do feel for anybody else dying of their skewed suicidal knowledge of science and nondysfuntional societal management principles.

Although itโ€™s perhaps difficult to quantify the value of a lost life, death makes perfect socioeconomicโ€™ sense. When we die, we are buried at a certain one-time monetary cost. And thatโ€™s it. Written off as in Bad Debt in business. Where applicable, the bereaved get fat Life Insurance policies pay outs, inherit big fortunes, and live happily ever after.

Hospitalizing, acute sickness is too costly for society. Just as temporarily or permanently incapacitating illnesses and injuries are atrociously costly for society. On the surface, to deliberately choose to fall ill, and/ or die from scientifically manageable diseases in 21st Century affluent societies beats me. However, the day I got to understand the physiological dynamics of how our thought processes and our outward manifestations of the same as to our choices and actions work, I found inner peace.

ยฉSimon Chilembo 2022
Author/ Storyteller/ Poet/ Publisher/ Warrior/ Machona Son

Iโ€™ve come to adore life more. We live as we are. We die as we live. I live with a smile on my face. Iโ€™ll happily wear an anti-Corona mask. Some say I smile with my eyes. I can live with that. I cannot die with a ventilator over my face.

The hustler in me is propelled by my Warrior Ethos of Live Well. Die Fighting. Open your mind, apply all the science, philosophy, artillery, and common sense at your disposal.

Officially proven anti-Coronavirus vaccinations and recommended preventive measures contra the virus are in sync with my Warrior Ethos. Works for me. Bring all the boosters on. Corona must fall. I want my life back!

SIMON CHILEMBO
OSLO
NORWAY
TEL.: +4792525032
January 09, 2022

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PS
Order, read, and be inspired by my latest book, MACHONA POETRY โ€“ Rage and Slam in Tigersburg

ยฉSimon Chilembo 2021

ATLAS-TO-CAPE EXODUS

RAINBOW BROADBAND
Traitor Mandela
Chillax
Twenty-seven years in prison
Apartheid venom
Fails to corrode his bones
Iapartheid aithethi isiXhosa
Aiyazi ukuthi
Aigobeki le ntsimbi


Robben Island
Made the man
On the one hand
Broke the manโ€™ soul
On the other
Threw his boxing gloves
To the sea lions
Chillax ashore

ยฉSimon Chilembo 2021

Gather no weeds
Hammer away rocks
Abound on the island
Protective gear
A remote idea
Rock chips and dust
Mess your eyes up
You canโ€™t cry freedom
You canโ€™t see

When you couldnโ€™t care
About
Carving freedom out of stone
Rock chips and dust
Clog your nostrils up
You canโ€™t smell
Misery of the people
In the air

In as much as
Post-Mandelaโ€™s death
People canโ€™t smell Corona
That way it canโ€™t be real
And the people continue
To die like flies
In as much as
Mandelaโ€™s
Liberation of
The people of
Mzansi is fake
Fo sho
This is the land
Mandela sold away to
White manโ€™s burden
Legacy perpetrators
They call them
White Monopoly Capital buffoons
To whom
Gupta brothers
Cameโ€™n added
Colourโ€™n spice
โ€™n pocketed
Mandelaโ€™ sellout inheritors
Dazed in agarbatti smoke clouds
When you thought
Weed was bad
Eroding
Mzansi land
Left, right and centre
Fo sho
With their cupidity machines
Thinking that
Gravy train
Conspicuous consumption symbols
Ferrari and Maserati
Exhaust polenta to
The people of Mzansi for sho

ยฉSimon Chilembo 2021

Meanwhile
Maybach leverages mortuaries
Competing for corpses
Around Mzansi fo sho
Some corpses dappered in
Johann Rupertโ€™s
Jewellery empire vanity chains
Stones upon which studded
Wouldnโ€™t feed even
Insects and worms
As is the nature of stones
Who knows that better than
Northern desertsโ€™ pyramids

Perhaps
We should all head south
Go detox
White manโ€™s burden faeces
On Robben Island
For the illusive redemption of
Africa burning
In self-perpetuatory
White manโ€™s burden
Transgenerational trauma
Self-annihilatory black curse

Some look up to
The Pyramids of Egypt
Findings in
The bowels of which
Only confirm
Our once upon a time grandeur
Thatโ€™s all

Non-revolutionary
Static pride
In ancient times
Disconnected
With realities of our times
Just keeps us sinking
Beneath our rivers

In the age of
Global warming
Of not Mandelaโ€™s doing
The Nile shall
Swallow the pyramids
One of these days
What you gonโ€™ do
When the pyramidsโ€™re gone

ยฉSimon Chilembo 2021

The Congo shall
Flood the belly of Africa
Someday
Whoโ€™ll be left to say anything
Whoeverโ€™ll be looking
To find Lumumbaโ€™s bones floating around
Shall be doing so in vain

The Zambezi is coming
The Kariba Damโ€™s already
Getting weary
Listen to your basic instincts
What you gonโ€™ do
When Sharon Stoneโ€™s
King Solomonโ€™s mines are gone
Wake up
Dude
Put seventy
University
Degrees
To good us for once
For goodnessโ€™ sake
Itโ€™s okay
The Greenbackโ€™s on the streets
Mzansi Randโ€™ still
Real money fo sho
Got Mandelaโ€™s face
On it, neh
Wathi
Pamberi
ne ntontoni
Umtu
(Oh, thixo, bawo, Nkosi sikelela!)


Revolutionary Africa
Been at war
With itself from during
Anti-colonial struggle days
Civil wars continued upon
Independence attainment
Free at last to play out
White manโ€™s burden
Transgenerational trauma
Self-annihilatory black curse games
To this day

Freedom is a relative state
In all African states
Basest result of state dysfunctionality
In Africa
As elsewhere
Is a constant
Tyrants everywhere
Including America
Staying alive
Feeding on
Murder in all its execution variabilities
Survivors rot in jail
People endure suffering
In all its construction variables
People dream of life-supportive
Freedoms elsewhere

Since Mandelaโ€™s
Betrayal of
The African self-determination cause
Twenty-seven years ago
Mzansi fo sho
Has yet
To degenerate to levels
Of truly liberated
Free Mother Africa
Making a mockery of
Pan-Africanist dreams

ยฉSimon Chilembo 2021

When free Mother Africaโ€™s people
Give up on the miseries
Of their tyrannical
Genocidal
War-torn lands
Of once upon a time
Ancient Mega Star Warrior Kings
As accessible to today
As
The horizon of history
Choose to rather not
Get roasted walking the Sahara
Drown treading the Mediterranean
Thereโ€™s a rainbow broadband
Linking the poles of Africa
From the Atlas to the Cape
Making a joke of
Cecil Rhodeโ€™s Cape-to-Cairo
Highway dream

Following this rainbow
Many an African soul
Crushed under own meaning
Of true self-annihilatory African liberation
Land in awesome Gauteng
Cradle of Humankind grounds
City of gold
Mystical
Below and above
The ground

People begin to breathe here
People grow wings here
People reach all corners of Mzansi fo sho from here
Peopleโ€™s dreams come true here
The rest is magic

Argh, cxh
Afro-xenophobia
Comes and goes
Now and then
Mzansi fo sho
Playing out its own version of
White manโ€™s burden
Transgenerational trauma
Self-annihilatory black curses
Call it divide and rule devices

ยฉSimon Chilembo 2021

Iโ€™ve asked before
Whoโ€™s better
Whoโ€™s worse
Same difference
Same shit

The southern-most
Tip of the
Africa-long broadband rainbow
Touches Robben Island
In this lament here
Nelson Mandela legacy spirit infused
I lay my head
On the anvil
In this lament here
I proclaim that
Africaโ€™s futureโ€™s anchored here
Prove me wrong
If you can
Hammer my brains out
If Iโ€™m wrong

Come along
Join The Rainbow Nationโ€™s march
To go detox itself of
White manโ€™s burden faeces
On Robben Island
For the illusive redemption of
Africa burning
In self-perpetuatory
White manโ€™s burden
Transgenerational trauma
Self-annihilatory black curse
Singing
Africa unite

This image has an empty alt attribute; its file name is desmond_tutu_trbt_lw_2022.jpg

Desmond Tutu
Knew
May His Soul Rest
In Eternal Power of Love and Peace
Itโ€™s all in
The rainbow
Of humanityโ€™s diversity vibrancy
Embrace it
As it garrisons you
In Mzansi fo sho
Desmond Tutuโ€™s magical
Rainbow Nation
Where tyrants
Cave in under the law
Whilst
White manโ€™s burden faeces
Detox movement goes on
Bloody messy
As it gets
As it was in the beginning
END
ยฉSimon Chilembo 28/12-2021

SIMON CHILEMBO
OSLO
NORWAY
January 02, 2022
Tel.: +4792525032

RECOMMENDATION: Do you want to start writing own blog or website? Try WordPress!

PS
Order, read, and be inspired by my 7th book, Covid-19 and I: Killing Conspiracy Theories.

ยฉSimon Chilembo 2020
Project management