15.8.11

The myth of a peaceful nation

The United States has warned its citizens against travel to Zambia during the upcoming election period. I' m hardly surprised. As I follow the political and social happenings not just in Zambia but in Malawi, the Middle East and now even in the UK, I also would rather be too cautious.


As I follow various blogs by Zambian and about Zambia and I take note of friend’s Facebook posts the persistent mantra is “we must pray for peace." Pray if you feel you must, but I think the crucial imperative is to act to promote peace. To ask ourselves “how do the things I do and say contribute to harmony and non-violence?”


10.8.11

Lost and a little pathetic

I've been pondering how in the last decade I have become so dependent on mobile phone technology and internet that when without it, as I have been for the last two days, I feel lost and rather pitiful.

While I still have internet at home, I realise I’m so accustomed to having the internet or rather, information, when and where I need it. Being unable to phone or text is bad enough, but my previous forays into mobile internet wilderness have been voluntary, still they resulted in my spending inordinate amounts of time in the world’s most northerly Burger King.

Without my mobile, I cannot indulge my love of pointless

7.8.11

The last child in the playground blues

I wave the last child goodbye. The one with the blue eyes always looks as if she will cry. The fat girl Minna can’t wait to get home. Her mother - with the black hair and slanted eyes, will cook something that sounds exotic tonight. It’s still not dark, but it’s late. I always must be reminded. That in summer here it never really grows dark. I wish I could stay here, with the summer sky light above me. Back home we come in from the garden only when it gets dark.

But anyway my shoulders ache from pushing Minna on the swings so I concede, climbing the stairs to our apartment. Minna told me how in winter we won’t be able to play in the playground, because it will be covered in snow “as high as my father is tall.” I like