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𝐑𝐄𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎𝐑𝐘 𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃

𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐒𝐮𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐲 𝐒𝐥𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐅𝐚𝐜𝐞

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

©Simon 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 Leone’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 mother’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
I’m in Europe
Begging bowl
In my hands
“𝘏𝘢𝘯𝘨 𝘔𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘗𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦!” noose
Around my neck
Waiting for me
To take just one misstep
To lynch me

©Simon 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 Māori 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 didn’t just happen

©Simon Chilembo 2021

Beyond Pele’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
That’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
Jesus’ 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
𝘓𝘦𝘴 𝘪𝘮𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘳é𝘴 𝘥𝘶 𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘦
𝘝𝘦𝘳𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘴 𝘶𝘵𝘷𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘳𝘦
𝘉𝘢𝘵𝘴𝘢𝘮𝘢𝘪 𝘣𝘢 𝘭𝘦𝘧𝘢𝘵𝘴𝘩𝘦
𝘈𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘰𝘥𝘶𝘬𝘢
𝘖𝘮𝘢𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘯𝘢
Want not to kill anybody
Want not to rape anybody
Want not to plunder anybody’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 don’t crack
Goes the rap
Let’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, y’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
𝘑𝘦𝘦𝘦𝘻𝘶𝘻𝘻𝘻
END
©Simon 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 haven’t abated. In my 7th book, Covid-19 and I: Killing Conspiracy Theories, I highlight fallacies red lights and how to identify them. Order the book, read, and be inspired by my philosophical exposition on the matter. It might save yours and your loved ones’ lives.

DISCLAIMER: I neither offer nor suggest any cures or remedies. I promote fearless, independent thought and inclination towards pursuing science-based knowledge in times of, indeed, frightening, life-threatening phenomena in the world.

©Simon Chilembo 2020

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

𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐒 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐃: 𝐔𝐊𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐑 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟐

𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐩𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐈𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐮𝐧

Once upon a time
I was a man of means
My formative years I lived
With beloved
High Priestess
𝘈𝘶𝘮𝘢
Mother of my mother
Sowing seeds of 𝘒𝘢𝘯𝘢𝘯𝘢
Land of milk and honey
In my head

She used to say that
If I do good
God will bless me
With 𝘒𝘢𝘯𝘢𝘯𝘢’s abundance
Here on earth
If I can handle it
Heaven is for the dead
𝘒𝘢𝘯𝘢𝘯𝘢 is the gift of immortality

She waited until
I was a man of substance
In my world
Before she transitioned
To heavenly domains
I emerged from my sorrow
To find 𝘒𝘢𝘯𝘢𝘯𝘢 opulence
Doors wide open
Auma must have had
A talk with God

I did good and good some more
With my thoughts
My hands
God poured her blessings on me
Shined my soul
Gave me the Midas touch

Everything I caressed
Felt the touch of God
Gave me gold
It wasn’t by chance that
I was born in
𝘔𝘻𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘪
The land of gold
Diamonds and pearls
𝘍𝘰 𝘴𝘩𝘰

In the land of
Black gold
Swimming with the salmon
Powered by the cod
I counted my money
In units of forty
Forty-this
Forty-that
Forty thousand here
Forty thousand there

I invested in
Forty thousand acres land here
Forty thousand houses there
I’d have
Forty thousand million dollars
In my name
By age forty plus forty years

Me
Moving too fast to see
Me
Coming on too strong to care
Forty thousand bolts
Of malignant forces
Hit me
Took me down
Burned my forty thousand
Real estate units
Stole my forty thousand million dollars dreams
Threw me into the fire

Like a whale out of water
Crushing under its own weight
Malignant forces collapsed
Under the weight of
My forty thousand million dollars dreams

They can’t walk
They can barely crawl
The sun never sees them
They can hardly breathe
Miserable
Natural born envious losers
Forty thousand corona ventilators
Couldn’t help them
My forty thousand million dollars dreams are gone

The fire died
Phoenix that I am
Immortality blessings
Recipient that I am
For the good and good some more
That I do
I could only rise again from the ashes
I dream again
No hurry
No worries
This time around

I smell
My forty thousand million dollars anew
𝘒𝘢𝘯𝘢𝘯𝘢
Bring on the milk cows now
Do kindly inform
Queen bee that I’m back
Feed me the honey
Babe

Alas
In Ukraine
Forty thousand corpses of
Young men sacrificed in
A war made for
Catastrophe from beginning
To humanity finality
Decay under the spring sun
In open killing fields
Sprawled on devastated city streets
Where even urban stray dogs
Dare not appear

As if artillery smoke
Burning human endeavour spaces
Flowers set on fire
Inadequate
Human body decomposition gases
Foul the atmosphere
Killing cows
Milk is gone
Choking bees nests
No more honey

There never is
Life rising again in these conditions
Burning oil refineries smoke
Strangle the sun
Misery absolute

All dreams
Young men
Boys
Still carrying
Their mothers’ milk odours
On their pre-demise bodies
Forty thousand of them
Are gone
Never to return to
Their 𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘶𝘴𝘩𝘬𝘢𝘴
Forty thousand plus forty thousand
Of them
Their mothers
Forty thousand of them
Their sisters
Forty thousand of them
Their cousins
Forty thousand of them
Their fathers
Their brothers
Their uncles
Their buddies
All men dying
On the frontlines too
In
Forties of thousands
Forties of thousands
And
Forties of thousands of them

Meanwhile
In Russia
One man
Presses these and those buttons there
Like a delinquent child
Micro playing computer games
Live
On the biggest outdoor TV screen
Only that death arising in
The Ukraine war
Is that of real life human beings
Forty thousand of whom
Are children of his land
Dying in ways
Sacrificial chess pieces
Never could comprehend
Ghastly

I let my forty thousand million dollars
Dreams go away
No loss
I can always recall them
I ain’t no oligarch
I own no yacht
No green back
No Euro Dollar
Sanctions on my case

Money is only numbers
Numbers come and go
As we come and go
Any woman knows
We die
Numbers continue
With their lives

Numbers make history
Numbers lock history in time
Numbers set history in line
Either you are on it
Or you are not

There are
Forty thousand souls
Wandering in my vicinity
Unaware that they are dead
Knowing not where they are
Where they want to be
Not understanding why nobody
Seems to care about them
Not in the least see them

PTSD on the other side
Must be some dreary journey
Darker than we’ll ever see alive
In pre-nuclear war times
No wonder God is weary
Given up on us
Long time ago

I reach out nevertheless
𝘈𝘶𝘮𝘢 used to say that
Prayer pacifies the dead
I have work to do

I have forty thousand
Demised young men’s dreams
To ensnare
Their forty thousand stories to decode
Before nuclear bombs
Erase even our ability to count zero

Numbers are because we are
I cannot look
Count
And be indifferent

Where is God
When
Forty thousand dead
Young men
Need to be buried
With human dignity
Before scavengers
Devour their identities
Disperse their bones
Across charred earth
𝐄𝐍𝐃
©Simon Chilembo 29/03-2022

SIMON CHILEMBO
OSLO
NORWAY
TEL.: +4792525032
April 04, 2022

AMERICAN NIGHTMARE

DIDN’T GO AMERICA 

And, so

I didn’t

Go to America

I felt robbed

Yet again

God had decided

To screw

My wishes  

Yet I had prayed and prayed and prayed

Prayed since I was a  child

I saw beautiful America 

In the bioscope

King Kong

Swept me off my feet

Made me believe

I could reach for the sky

Higher than him

Upon the World Trade Center

I was smarter than him  

After all

If only I could

Get into the screen  

Off the wall

All I had to do was to

Go to America

I dreamed 

Heard on the radio

As 

Neil Armstrong’s first one step

On the moon

Was reported

A giant leap

For mankind

Was recorded

When other children and I

On my township streets

Enthralled

Sang about that moment

Monna wa pele

Ya hatileng ngoeling

Ke mang

Ke Armstrong  

It was clear to me that

In America

The world couldn’t hold a man down

I’d go to America

When grown up

I’d be doctor in America

I believed

Science ruled in America

The day

I ate

The body of Christ  

Father Hammel had earlier

Convinced me that

I was a chosen one

Child of God

The bishop-with-no-name

Later came and

Patted my cheek

Nearer to the heart  

My entry

Into the kingdom of God was confirmed

My wishes

Would be her command

For as long as I lived

America brace yourself

But

I didn’t

Go to America

At night

Year in and year out

I slept

Deep as I could

In the event that

Spirits of my ancestors

Came my way

I’d be wholly

Receptive to their guidance

As to how and when

I’d go to America

I went on to sleep

Hours on end

In daytime

Many a year in

Many a your out

To no avail

I didn’t go to America

©Simon Chilembo 2021

Dejected

Faith gone

To places I couldn’t fathom

Only God

Only ancestral spirits

Knew

I felt cheated

Terrible  

First

They dropped me

Not only

In the darkest continent

Africa

But Africa

Where my blackness

Was a curse from birth

Where

I only dreamt

Blood raining on me

Everywhere

In everything I did

Every bloody day

I’d at times wake up

In a fog of blood

All around me

Hard to breathe

No wonder

Ancestral spirits

Could never reach me

Could never speak with me

In South Africa

Land of my birth

God favoured

White people compassion-deprived  

Favoured with greed

Favouring oppression of the conquered  

As they knew it in Europe

Where they had been scummed

Their previous lives

The wretched of the wretched

Reproducing the ever wretched  

Of the earth

Souls broken

Dehumanized by their own

The original landed

Self-imposed rulers of man

Creators of God

Who ruled

By the sword

Subsequently the gun

Now the drone

Not forgetting

Intercontinental ballistic missiles

No blood, no victory

No blood, no insurrection

No blood , no subversion

No blood, no suppression 

No blood, no subservience

No blood, no annihilation  

What a bloody mess

©Simon Chilembo 2021

In Europe they had kingdoms

They had the church

In South Africa

Kingdoms morphed into Apartheid state

The church remained  

Multi-pronged

In the name of God

Of many faces

The wretched of the wretched

Propagating the ever wretched

Of the earth

The only thing they knew   

White people spilt

Black people’s blood there

In South Africa  

People killing people

Became a way of life there

Not much has changed

So much blood everywhere there

People stabbed

People gunned

People molested

Bled and ran

Bled and fell

People died in pools of blood

When I saw blood

I knew I was alive

I got older

I knew I had to

Get out of there

America calling, baby

Ol’ Blue Eyes

Came out voice blazing

Singing

New York

New York

And all my doubts were squashed

I just had to go to America

New York

New York

City that never sleeps

Just perfect for me

Too much blood

In my dreams

During sleep

©Simon Chilembo 2021

Mr Black President Mandela

Of South Africa

Came and went

As if from nowhere

Mr Black President Obama

Emerged in  America  

Went and buried

Mr Black President Mandela

Black Power

Circle of life complete

In Mzansi fo sho   

Mr Black President Obama

Of America

Charmed

All charmable people of the world

Incredulous

Angry White people’s worlds

In disarray

Black-people-detesting cells

In their blood boiled

Resorted to the only trait they know

Violence

Lynching of Black people urge

Pervasive as porn

Diabolical must be a place in America

Where they don’t know a thing

About democracy

Tyrants

Getting kicks out of

Shameless display

Of ignorance entangled in

Bungled communisocialism theories    

Heads or tails of which

They don’t know at all

Founded upon slippery

Coagulated blood-paved intellectual grounds

Some gone to school

I can’t help but wonder

From which planet

The books they’ve read are

Their libraries must be

Drenched in blood

They must have been taught by

Crooked professors

Fake

Blood-sucker intelligentsia

Soiling academia of the world

Ivy League universities

I gotta ask

What went wrong

With these people

Or is it you

What’s become of you

Once upon a time

Revered seats of knowledge

Astonishing     

Black people of the world

Caught Obama fever

Chronic

Need no inoculation

Obama ain’t Corona

Got

Obama talk

Got

Obama walk  

Yah, man

Bob Marley had said it before

Everything’s gonna be alright

No more cry, woman

No more cry, man

Dry your tears

Black child  

Martin Luther King’s

Dream had come true  

We had overcome

Free at last

America

Watch me

I’m coming home

Miley Cyrus

Where’s the party, babe

There’s

A party in the USA

The Un-United States of America

Amidst the Obama euphoria

I heard a gunshot here

KABOOM!!!

A gunshot there and there

KABOOM!!! BOOM!!!

Black man 

Ceased to breathe here

Ceased to breathe there

Die

Nigger

Die 

Reality come home  

Gruesome

Genocidal Apartheid South Africa

Upon my heels

©Simon Chilembo 2021

White America

Not unlike

God-favoured

White South Africa

Compassion-deprived   

Favoured with greed

Favouring oppression of

Black people

People of colour

Rose

Showed its true colours

Emboldened

Raw to the extreme

No brakes

No remorse

Despicable

Mr President Doughnut Prump  

Hit the scene

Raving mad   

Apartheid lunacy

Taken to another stage

Up or down

Just as vile

If not worse

Mr Vice President Pence’ gallows  

Spelt it all out in

The Capitol gardens

Obscene

Like they used to

Parade the streets with

Decapitated heads

Of their own

On stakes

In yesteryear’s Europe

Delinquent

White America

Spoilt brats

Seek to burn San Francisco flowers

On Madame Speaker Pelosi’s head

Shut her beak

Meanwhile

Paul Gosar

Unhinged

Animates

Ms Representative Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez

Woman of colour

He could never match

In any way

Kills her

On the digital world stage

Ghastly

Appalling

Repeating history

As is customary

Killing his own

In 21st Century America of all colours

On the streets

In the name of justice

For paralysed-Kenosha-police-seven-times-shot-in-the-back-unarmed

Jacob Blake

Delinquent

White America

Spoilt brat

Kyle Rittenhouse

Just normalized

Vigilantism in America

Critical Race Theory

Comprehension bereft

Children of America

Just fallen deeper into

The abyss of hell    

Horrendous  

Out on the streets

On a

Longevity enhancing jog

Unarmed

Posing no threat to no one

Black America young man

Ahmaud Marquez Arbery

Met his demise

In the hands of

Genocidal white America’s

Travis McMichael

In the murder trial court of whom

The latter’s defence lawyer

Wants not to see

Men of God in

Black America personas

Outrageous     

On second thoughts  

They can keep their America

My God ain’t too bad after all

Neither are my ancestral spirits

Gonna find me

Pure white as snow

Polar bear
END
©Simon Chilembo 18/11-2021

©Simon Chilembo 2021

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. It might save yours and your loved one’s lives.

©Simon Chilembo 2020

THE WORLD TODAY – Poem

 
My intuition
Tells me that
The world today
Is as beautiful
As wonderful
As it was yesterday
As it ever was
Actually
 
The world today
Is as marvellous
As tomorrow can be
 
My intuition
Tells me that
The world today
Is a fulfilment of visions
Of the world tomorrow
In the eyes of our ancestors
 
Our ancestors
Are looking at us
From above in utter amazement
Their bones rattle underground
 
For
The world today
Is a world that does not
Need to wait for tomorrow
To guarantee us all
Longevity
In abundance
To beyond extravagance
Thanks to science
 
Our ancestors
Are enthralled
By technology of
The world today
The world of all possibilities for all humanity
 
The world today
Defies time
Defies limitations of space
Through Science and Technology
I should not be apprehensive of
Not seeing through the day
In
The world today
Because of hunger and strife
 
The world today
Ought to be
Heaven on earth
Here and now
For us all
 
My intuition
Tells me that
Heaven is perfect
Heaven begins and ends in itself
Heaven is perpetual upward movement
Of self-regeneration, self-fulfilment
 
In heaven
There is no want
There is no death
 
So
The world today
Ought to be
A space of peace and immortality
For all of humanity
 
Alas
We are ruled by
Avaricious
Bloodsucker
Immoral
Jackass
Myopic
Spiritually retarded
Psychopaths
Pathological liars
Charlatans
Manipulators
Thieves
Necropots
Bloody idiots
Brains of whom ceased
Growing at
Embryonic levels …
(Continues in the book MACHONA POETRY: Rage and Slam in Tigersburg)
©Simon Chilembo (13/ 11- 2019)
 
Dedicated to the people of Chile and others struggling for freedom the world over. Read in Oslo at Solidarity Concert for Chile, Saturday, November 23, 2019. Any struggle for freedom is my struggle.

OSLO
NORWAY
Telephone: +4792525032
November 30, 2019

38 YEARS AN EXILE: XII

HOME AT LAST! Part 12 CITIZEN OF THE WORLD? MY FOOT!

SPECIAL NOTE: Link takes us to an article written by a frustrated young lady in Oslo, Norway, who feels she has no place to call home anywhere. Although my writing below may sound harsh, it is not personal. I am writing on the subject in general terms at her inspiration, from my, of course, highly subjective point of view. Believe me, I feel her pain, anger, and sorrow. Nelson Mandela, PresidentI am a citizen of the world is another one of those idealistic statements of which poetry and literature are inspired. I am a citizen of the world as an emotional statement reeks of arrogance, ignorance, naiveté, self-centredness, patronization, and imperialistic tendencies. You don’t go calling yourself citizen of the world simply because you don’t feel at home in your country of birth, and/ or your host country if you are an exile in the Diaspora. It’s not up to you to declare yourself a world citizen, as if the world owes you any favours, to begin with …(Continued in the book: “MACHONA AWAKENING – home in grey matter”. Order book on Amazon’s CreateSpace here).

 

 

Simon Chilembo
Riebeeckstad
Welkom
South Africa
December 15, 2014

38 YEARS AN EXILE: X

HOME AT LAST! Part 10
LIFE IN THE DIASPORA – MUCH TO PROVE

Simon Chilembo, President/ CEOOnce you land in exile, even more so if you do eventually get stuck out there, you have everything to prove. You have to. Your life depends on it. Exile confronts you first and foremost as the individual. Troubles in your country of origin will only make sense, or not, on the basis of what story you talk and walk. Consciously chosen or not, it may be your mission to be a Messiah for your people. Prove that you are; their lives depend on you.

Regardless of your real or imagined social status in your homeland, the fact that the latter and yourself can no longer thrive in each other’s presence, and because countries do not move, people do, you hit exile with much of you hanging on the line … (Continued in the book: “MACHONA AWAKENING – home in grey matter”. Order book on Amazon’s CreateSpace here).

 

Simon Chilembo
Riebeeckstad
Welkom
9459
South Africa
November 25, 2014

UNDERSTANDING (SOUTH) AFRICAN INTER-PERSONAL POWER RELATIONS DYNAMICS, Part 3

DICTATORS’ PARADISE

Africa: Flags African dictators and despots are exactly at a place they ought to be on earth. Africa is a natural haven for autocratic rulers.

As reportedly the oldest people on earth, Africans must for generations have persevered and survived such awesome battering from nature that fear of, and reverence for, power, authority, and influence come as second nature to them. So, if you are a person of ethical standards and moral values divergent from definition of the same in the progressive world of freedom, justice, and democracy, you have a free hand to dominate and destroy your land.

You can, furthermore, destroy your people’s natural aspirations for a good life of abundance, comfort, safety, and infinite prospects for growth, development, and prosperity. Just be atrociously brutal and effective in dealing with those of your people reluctant to acknowledge and follow your pathetic rule and leadership style.

Kill them in cold blood, and feed their corpses to the dogs. Much like nature in the beginning, and subsequent conquerors from other parts of the world, colonizers, did before your time. Works all the time. If your land lacks any specially value adding material and other attributes to the rest of the world, nobody will give a hoot.

Africans truly love their culture. Primitive, timeless culture. The oldest instrument of social organization and control on earth. A culture which remained static and closed-minded while the rest of mankind later moved on, … (Continued in the book: MACHONA BLOGS – As I See It. Order Simon Chilembo books on Amazon)


Simon Chilembo
Welkom
South Africa
August 25, 2013