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RELIGION OF PEACE?
If I wake up blown up dead tomorrow, be it known that in all of my dear life, standing on African humanistic thought and philosophical platform, anchored on contemporary Western philosophy democratic thought, and spiced with Christian values defining my personal relationship to God, I lived with profound respect for religion in all its forms and manifestations. I had to.
It’s because, as a free man of the world and lover of all humanity, some of my best friends, sisters and brothers of all skin colours and tones of the spectrum, were from all corners of the world, and practiced all kinds of religions; worshiping and praising all kinds creatures, spirits, and gods in many different ways. Amen.
I am deeply fascinated by religion. Mankind, the most complex, the most inquisitive creature on earth, must have gotten so afraid of what they found out about themselves that they created God. God would be both a reason and scapegoat for mankind’s actions. So, it’s okay, people will kill other people, including their very own flesh and blood for God; this as prescribed by God in relevant religious scriptures. Simple. No responsibility for one’s own actions for mankind.
All’s cool in the name of God. God must be an extremely busy being, with much blood in their hands. No wonder there is so much confusion in the world today. God has no time to rest … (Continued in the book: “MACHONA BLOGS – As I See It”. Order Simon Chilembo books on Amazon)
June 20, 2014
NO FORGIVENESS, NO MERCY
I can’t forgive. I never forgive. I don’t forgive. If and when I’m maliciously offended and/ or harmed in any way, I cry, I pray, I meditate, I think.
If I conclude that I have been by intention and purpose, for any reason treated unfairly and unjustly as a way to thwart my efforts, ambitions, and opportunities at attaining any of my goals, there is no way I can ever forgive. Forgetting is out of the question. I am not vindictive. But when revenge hits back, it’s ever so sweet.
In the absence of apology, repentance, humility, and, in extreme cases, penance, on the part of the offender, I can never forgive, I can never reconcile. In the name of progress, because the world will never stop for us, peace may prevail. But unsolicited forgiveness I can never extend, or offer, overtly or otherwise.
I believe in God. I am God. Even God does not distribute forgiveness for free like it’s some Father Christmas goody for children. God gives only upon request, no matter how genuine or false the request is. Just ask, God (for-) gives. That’s what prayers are for … (Continued in the book: “MACHONA BLOGS – As I See It”. Order Simon Chilembo books on Amazon)
December 31, 2013
The humane and spiritual magnanimity of South African people regarding what they have had to give in order to facilitate the creation and sustenance of the relatively peaceful, and prosperous post-1994 democratic South Africa can only be fully understood by those who have felt the venomous bite of the fangs of apartheid in their bodies, minds, and souls. It’s not a thing just read about in books and research reports to comprehend thoroughly.
I guess the apartheid venom was so effective it made us, Black people, into huge, docile sponges you can pee and shit upon ceaselessly, and we’ll keep smiling, ever extending our hands out to evil-minded White supremacists people, begging for love, and peaceful co-existence. But then again, I fear there is a Black Cat in the hearts and souls of many a, if not all, apartheid survivors and their descendents. The Black Cat is on the run, quite, fluid, and purposeful despite all the madness around it. The cat does not want to die: Keep moving; endure the hurt, the pain, until …
As per the social engineering ramifications of obnoxious apartheid, there was no order, no law those days in the townships of South Africa. So, this stray Black Cat, like many other cats and dogs before it, appears like from nowhere. Lost. We could have been fewer, but in my child’s head I see about 15 children getting instantly delirious, as was usual in situations like this. Picking up stones, and other projectiles, we chase the animal. Kill the cat, children! When the stupid cat decides to run into a tennis court nearby, I thought, “Well, this is going to be easy game!”
There were now even more children in the only form of hunting adventure we knew in the townships those days. Stones, bottles, pieces of metal, anything, zooming onto the poor cat now hopelessly trapped in a cul-de-sac. In total exhaustion and pain, the cat finally falls off the fence it had been clawing in vain, hoping against hope that it could still escape, collapses on the tennis court floor. Momentary state of shock for all. Yet another projectile is thrown. The cat is hit. It makes a weak attempt to move. No good. Then, I still see the scene like in slow motion, it’s like there was dead silence for a while. The cat became smaller, is if air was being squeezed out of it. We are all mesmerized. Before we knew it, the cat had become, in my eyes, as big as a horse.
Standing on its hind legs, upright into a tennis court corner, fore legs raised kick-boxing guard style, the cat made the last snarl and flew at us. Pandemonium as we all, now 20 plus children, scrambled to come out of the tennis court gate simultaneously. Only now does it makes sense about the claustrophobia I quietly suffered from for many years soon afterwards.
When the time comes, heaven forbid, for the Black Cat in South African Black People’s hearts and souls to snarl, and retaliate, for “enough is enough”, evil-minded White supremacists will have nowhere to run. South Africa is the omega, you see.
Nelson Mandela did not sell South Africa to Whites. Nelson Mandela did not sell South Africa to imperialist capital. In line with the unique humane and spiritual magnanimity of South African people, Nelson Mandela chose to swallow camels so that you and I can be here today, living happily ever after in our beloved Mzansi fo sho, inspite of its imperfections. Remember, effects of apartheid venom include diminished sense of empathy, leading to extreme levels of selfishness, including loss of responsibility for one’s own actions as manifested time and time again in certain, and various leadership cabals in the country.
Thanks to Nelson Mandela, when the rest of the world will be left in shambles and rumbles, South Africa will still be here, standing tall. Unlike today, though, there won’t be much space for all, as South Africa will still be a peaceful sanctuary for the lucky few who manage to escape ravages of wars in their own countries of origin. The omega is like the last full stop of a great book. Very, very tiny point. At this point, it’ll be ON! with the switch of darkness. No more smiles, no more love, no more reconciliation. Bye-bye, beloved Bishop Tutu. Time for the Black Cat to rise and strike back.
I feel for the progeny of the short-sighted, evil-minded White supremacists people, who refuse to recover from their own apartheid venom ingestion symtoms. As I see it, their children’s future may be very black, indeed. But there is still time, there is still room for change. There is still, as it was in the beginning, hope. Democracy fixes most things, if given a chance.
Read also: A comprehensive guide to white privilege in South Africa
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October 14, 2013