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SMARTER ZIMBABWEANS, STUPID SOUTH AFRICANS?

IS IT TRUE OR NOT THAT ZIMBABWEANS ARE MORE SMARTER (sic), EDUCATED THAN SOUTH AFRICANS??
Asked somebody on a Facebook group, The SA Political Forum.

©Simon Chilembo, 2014

©Simon Chilembo, 2014

A clumsily formulated, but interesting, question which has provoked extremely intense debate on the forum in recent days. The latter manifesting more the worst than the better of our views of one another in this part of the world: Nationalism, racism, tribalism, bigotry, parochialism, xenophobia, ignorance, primitivity, nauseous arrogance, pettiness, immaturity, insensitivity, paternalism, mental derangement symptoms, lack of imagination, intellectual poverty, academic disorientation, non-culturedness, superstition, spiritual emptiness, insecurity, dumb-headedness, self-destruction tendencies, predator mentality, terribly developed language/ communication skills, cheap rhetoric, thick-headedness, anarchism, mistrust, misinformation, information distortion, history misinterpretation, manipulation, wilful ignorance of facts, e-kassie mentality, ill-defined defiance, profanity, foolish pride, as well as threats; including leadership/ rule by fear.

I do not quite recall how my first year, 1965, at school in Lesotho unfolded. What I do remember well, though, is that it was a hell lot of fun learning how to read and write for the first time. Returning from what I had then understood to have been Christmas holidays, January 1966 I discovered that I had completely new classmates at my school. The others from the previous year were in another class I heard called Padiso/ Sub B. That didn’t bother me much, however; all I wanted to do was to continue learning how to read and write. It was ever such great fun, at the request of the class teacher, to stand in front of the class reading or counting for my new classmates. Nevertheless, I recall that at some point this whole thing began to bore me half way to death; I kept reading and counting the same things all the time. I felt it was time I went to join my old classmates who were now in Padiso/ Sub B. So, I stated my wish to the class teacher. The school principal wouldn’t allow that to happen, I was told. Why??? “Because you are just too intelligent for your age, Simon. Boko ba hao bo tla bola …/ Your brains will rot if you go to higher classes while you are still under age. People who get too much education while young get mad, you see. Don’t worry, you shall go to Padiso/ Sub B when you are 8 years old” the teacher resolutely told me. So, I stayed in Grade 1 for three years, 1965-67, to keep my sanity together. Jeeezuz!

During the years 1967-69, the only meaningful school activity I recall are the almost daily after school fights arranged by older boys and girls. The idea was that boys my age should/ would beat the brains out of me because teachers at the school never stopped talking about how intelligent I was. Sadly for the matchmakers and my opponents, I would win absolutely all my fights. There was no way I was going to allow these dumb heads to kill my brains. I was also a street-smart kid. The thing is, while these age mates of mine were still working round getting the alphabet, and numbers, together, I was already reading to my class teacher and my grandmother some passages from the Lesotho Times newspaper. I am a South African child begotten of a Zambian father. At this formative school of mine in Lesotho, there were many other mixed ethnicity parentage children (representative of the ethnic and racial diversity of the Southern African sub-continent) from relatively more resourceful families in the major South African metropolis, including Lesotho itself.

In 1970, going onto my tenth year of age, I find myself in a South African school classroom for the first time. The academic excellence self-confidence developed in Lesotho got acutely shaken by my failure to understand what the textbook I was given by the new class teacher was about. Reading comprehension, of course. I struggled through the assigned reading passage, and then answered the subsequent 10 questions best I could. I got zero out of ten. The teacher expressing dismay at my explicit lack of knowledge of Afrikaans, I couldn’t reveal that I had actually started schooling in Lesotho, where there was/ is no Afrikaans spoken or taught in schools. By the time of the mid-year exams in June that year, though, I was scoring the highest all-round grades in class. Upon return from winter holidays, my class teacher called me out to where she and other teachers seemed to be discussing something serious together with the school Principal. I was told that all had agreed that I deserved to be promoted to the next class because I was just too intelligent for Grade 3, which I had in fact been forced to repeat in the first place. I declined. Why? I was afraid my brains would rot, and I would thus go mad from too much education while still young. Bummer! I kept scoring the highest grade point averages at school in South Africa till end of 1974.

First quarter of 1975 I am in Lusaka, Zambia. No school that year. Very depressing. I have never felt smaller, and more insignificant. Shattered medical studies dreams. But then again, just under 15 years of age, I discover, and enter into a space called library for the first time in my life: Lusaka City Library, British Council Library, American Library. Book, books, and books everywhere, including my Uncle Oliver’s private library at home, as well as later, the magnificent UNZA library. And there were so many magazines, journals, and other publications of all sorts to read. I became a bookworm that year. A whole new world of thinking and dreaming was opened for me; and thus began my daily English reading and writing journey to this day.

Back to school in 1976. Forced to backtrack again because, my father was told, the then South African Bantu Education Grade 7 academic standards were lower than those of Zambia. But, as soon as I had gotten into the rhythm of things at school, I was topping class grade average points, as usual. I could never understand the Grade 7 failure panic and hysteria characteristic of the time in Zambia. I, of course, passed the final exams with flying colours later in the year. South African born, Zambian dad begotten man-child would show constant, and predictable, academic excellence throughout the entire Secondary/ High School career to university; crushing class- and schoolmates from many other countries/ nations of the world, including Zimbabwe. This, despite the fact that I didn’t know what a science laboratory was until I was 17 years old at secondary school. That Zambian school children had already been exposed to sophisticated scientific education for years had also greatly intimidated me at first. There was at that time an awesome Zambian youth scientific magazine called Orbit. The story would repeat itself in Norway, both academically and professionally in my adult years.

20 years ago, after failing a Drivers’ Licence theory examination in Norwegian language, a blue-eyed Norwegian young man, upon hearing that I had scored almost 100% in the same test, exasperates, “Fffæææn/ Ssshit, I never knew that there were in fact wise negrer in the world!” Another dick head bites the dust.

The moral of this story is that when you are hot, you are hot. Your origin, or Nationality, due to various objective and subjective factors, may have some, but certainly not, decisive bearing.

My initial response to the question on the forum went as follows:
NOT true! The 5 million or so … in SA should tell a lot about Zimbabweans’ smartness, with their country messed up by (one of) the most educated presidents in Africa. We have our Msholozi, we have our legacy of inferior, for Blacks, apartheid Bantu education. But, for one of many examples, and despite acute imperfections here and there, through SASSA, South Africa effectively distributes at least R 10 BILLION in various social grants a month. 

Ultimately, it’s not so much about how smart or educated Nation(-s/ -nals) are, it’s about how they apply these qualities to meet their people’s needs and aspirations as their nations develop and progress among nations of the world.

Simon Chilembo
Riebeeckstad
Welkom
9459
South Africa
Tel.: +27 717 454 115
October 12, 2014

WAR IS WAR, PART II

The Side I Take

In a perfect world, and according to Gospel Chilembo, all intelligent, thinking, reasoning, rational, and knowledgeable human beings ought to know that WAR IS WAR.

The sole purpose and intention of war are to kill. Annihilate the enemy.

As true as death is the ultimate outcome of living, the first most likely to go in all wars are the most vulnerable, the least protected, and yet some of the most innocent of beings: Children, mothers that are, mothers to be, the sick, the weak, the poor, animals. These days, even world travellers, sitting enclosed in aeroplanes, and, in that environment, seemingly as innocent and unknowing of the ways of the world as children in mothers’ wombs, get shot down like birds of game in the sky. That is the nature of war. Sick.

Around negotiation and bargaining tables, nobody dies. There are no children here, there are no weak and vulnerable here; there are no poor mothers that are, mothers to be. Those who die, if at all, round negotiation tables, are simply those who are unfit and unhealthy from before … (Continued in the book: MACHONA BLOGS – As I See It. Order Simon Chilembo books on Amazon)


Simon Chilembo

Welkom
South Africa
July 20, 2014

 

WHAT WARRIOR MOVES?

Chilembo Warrior Moves Karate • Development, hereafter CWM, is my safe home base playground. It begins and ends with me. Only I could make CWM for myself. In CWM I do what I have to do, play what I have to play without my inadequacies becoming an impediment for the expression of my overall creative potential. I play my freedom mind games without fear or favour here. CWM is an own platform for the unfolding of my visions, manifesting my values, beliefs, and faith both in thought and action. It encapsulates the story of my life; my past, my present, and charts the course into my future.

I use CWM as a tool to help me make sense of my reality. It helps me structure my thoughts; it helps me to focus. I withdraw into CWM to find answers and meanings to things and events. This is a realm in which I come out of myself for internal dialogues and reflections with myself. My alter ego is my best conversation partner.

My strengths, my strong sense of independence, my free spirit, my rebelliousness, my will to survive, my self-confidence, my innovativeness, my tenacity, my sense of fairness and justice, my ethics, my empathy, are all written on the entire space that is CWM. I walk, and I live my name. Chilembo will contextually mean that which is written down/ the written word/ handwriting/ scripture.

The CWM logo tells it all:

  • The book represents the solid intellectual and academic knowledge foundation upon which CWM is based. Education is paramount; it is an imperative.
  • The shield represents the protecting and defending roles and functions of a warrior. The Chilembo Warrior moves to protect himself and his own with love and compassion, all in the name of peace, fairness, and justice for all.
  • The CWM mind is in a healthy body. Karate training and teaching over a period of 40 years has made my body very strong; has taught me to love and respect life. However, if I have to fight evil I will always aim for the heart. Whatever method I use, I’ll be sharp and precise like a warrior spear.
  • Karate has been an invaluable personal development tool for me. It has taught me the value and essence of teaching, leading, coaching, guiding, and mentoring others. Karate has given me a taste of child upbringing. I have had the entire spectrum of life experience in my Karate endeavours, from love through victory to betrayal. Karate has made me whole.

When I have now retired after 35 years of active Karate teaching, and I no longer own or run a club of my own anywhere, CWM will keep me going strong forever. CWM provides the magic carpet rides that will help maintain and sustain the long-existing bonds between my students, colleagues, friends, as well as my teachers and I.

As my students have now taken over the running of my former two clubs in Norway, I cruise around on CWM carpet rides feeling like a proud old man enjoying the pleasure of seeing his children and grandchildren carrying on with Warrior work towards enlightenment through Karate. There’s nothing as good as good history repeating itself. I’ll always be available on consultant basis if and when my students wish to ride with me on the CWM magic carpet of constant innovation and fresh thinking. And for an indefinite period, out of current practical considerations, my engagement with my international Karate affiliations will be limited. But I’m definitely on board.

In my CWM magic carpet cruises all over the world I will, both impromptu and upon request, issue CWM certificates of recognition to practicing and retired Karateka, as well as friends of Karate and the Martial Arts in general.

In 2011 the first WALOBA AWARD in honour of my late father went to my teacher, Prof Stephen Chan. The 2012 recipient is my student and Brother, Eyvind Elgesem.

Simon Chilembo
Oslo
Norway
Tel.: +47 92525032
August 15, 2012