Where is the LOVE??????

Gone are the days when it took a village to raise a CHILD. . . . But rather today communities believe bad kids are has a result of bad parenting. Gone are the days when I could knock on a neighbor's door at any hour when I run out of salt, with confidence that the door would be wide opened and the salt granted. Oh gone are the days when we would walk to our friends homes to find out how they were really doing. . . Instead we would rather facebook them, then act like we just got the shock of our lives when we find out the person we facebook yesterday and told us they were okay just killed themselves. Long gone are the days when someone else's pain mattered enough to us, that we could put our own lives on hold to be there for them. . . But today the 'ONE MAN 4 HIMSELF' policy does seem apply to everyone. I can only wonder what our Ancestors are thinking. . . What happend to community values?. And am certain if God didnt what us to depend on each other for support he would have put each one of us on different islands.

Words of wisdom to my three month old niece 'Kim'

Dear Kimberly . . . . . . . . one day when you grow older you are going to feel pressured to be a certain size,color,hight and have a particular type of hair in order to fit the societal norm of beauty, the pressure is going to come from many sources. . .be it from looking at other girls on television and fashion magazines and more often than not you are going to get rude comments weather from an old man at a taxi rank , boys on street corners or even from other women,because sadly enough we live in a world that values form over substance . But you my dear,don't have to subscribe or confrom to any of the above stereotypes ... Because I want you to accept every part of your body and embrace it along with every flaw because your body is a a miraculous gift of ancestry. Its true that almost every woman has an issue with some part of their body(this is between us we men have issues with our bodies too) be it the size of their breasts, tummy, hips and sometimes even the shade of their skin, but remember that your body is a mechine thats pron to constant change as you grow and make your initation into womanhood. I want you to know that every last detail on you face and body belongs there, and those features you don't like show your best talents and tell the world who you really are. As clichèd as it may sound "beauty really does start from within yourself" and if you have negative thoughts about yourself they will most certainly show up behind those fashion labels and layers of make up,so rather focus on your positive attritbutes. You body shape and size has a place in this world there is no written rule that says we should all look the same and no one has the right to dictate how you should look imagine if we all looked the same? The world would surely be a lot less interesting because diversity is what makes you beautiful . . . . . and above all when anyone makes you feel unworthy to be here be it your boyfriend, husband or whoever don't believe that lie because just being born in its self makes you more than worthy to be here and you have nothing to prove. .......... With luv yo Uncal.

"So when are you getting married????" (the inevitable question)

I have been thinking a lot about how most African cultures (Zambia in particular) value marriage at an extent were it's almost sickening, for women it's even more shocking how much pressure they face when they reach a certain age, from endless wedding invitations, to cousins and friends your age getting married and having babies and of course those inquisitive aunts at family gatherings who think you shouldn't be single and childless in your thirties. Because to them a woman is marriage and popping out babies, and if you try to walk away from the norm it doesn't go down well with most African families. I have heard of some women who after finding a man call home to their mothers to announce they've found a job! (Okay I will save that story for another day). But our culture and those down right irritating aunts need to come to terms with the paradox of our time, and the paradox of our time is that we have more and more women deciding to be single mothers...despite the world labeling their kids as illegitimate because their mother isn't married,and the word 'wedlock' is soon becoming outdated because of these new breeds of 'yummy mummies'. Today we have more men and women deciding to live together without marriage commitments written on their foreheads (think Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt, okay maybe without that football team they've going on there) while other women and men have decided to weigh their options by putting marriage on hold and go after their careers. Cause marriage is well good but at the end of the day; it doesn't have to tie you down and define you. MARRIED OR NOT OUR PATHS ARE DIFFERENT NOT ALL OF US HAVE TO GET MARRIED...TO PROVE A POINT. So next time that aunt asks you, "When  are you getting married?" Look them in the eye and say, "Do you have anyone in mind?"  Hahahaha.

'Carnival Of Guilt'

I was greeted well

enough at the door,

handing my ticket to the clown.

I saw attractions by the score,

still, none seemed

to slow me down.

I heard laughter

all around me,

yet, I felt a silent jeer.

No, it didn't take me

long to see I was

not welcome here.

Heads were turning,

eyes were burning.

Suddenly all laughs

were gone.

Only silent glares

and my stomach churning

my repulsed fear

pushed me on.

I walked faster,

yet so did they.

What this horde wanted,

I didn't know.

Running to the nearest

door on my way,

I found myself at

 "The Freak Show".

Sneaking backstage,

in hopes to hide,

I saw a two-headed man

in a fight against himself,

each head taking a side,

and neither side was right.

Both looked at me,

without words being said,

each pointing their

given hand to a door,

smiling as if somehow

my thoughts they read.

They knew what

I was here for.

Walking inside

with what I saw

Thought, defunct,

my human eyes.

Though inside I was

struck with awe,

I tried not

to show surprise.

A four-legged woman

walking with a man

who had no legs at all,

Living, loving,

laughing and talking.

As if he stood ten feet tall.

A bearded lady singing,

soft in tone,

to a man with two noses,

so skinny he looked

made of bone.

In the mirror,

practicing poses.

I stood  amazed,

at the shapes he took

as my misdirected

thoughts ran.

It seemed he could

make himself to look

like anything but

a "normal" man.

As if sensing my

questioning mind,

a boy approached

beginning to speak.

Saying, "Stay, safely,

here awhile, you will find

the answers that you seek."

I looked down seeing

each arm without a hand

but pincers like a

lobster instead.

He said, "There's things

the world won't

understand,

that can be grasped

here, full-fled."

He gestured to a

snake-skinned man,

and said, "Beauty truly is

in the eye, viewed by

the world, a charlatan,

won't you give the

magic mirror a try."

So I stepped over

and took my view,

behold a man without a face.

It was suddenly so clear,

I knew I had finally

found my place.

And every night people

stop to just stare

and maybe we raise

their self esteem.

Some people pity us

thinking it's not fair,

some think we're just

here to scheme.

But I recall the other side,

I know what leads you

to jeer and jolt,

and what you see as

"The Freak Show"

is just your carnival of guilt. . . .

'AM SORRY' An open letter to my ANCESTORS.

Am SORRY . . . . . . for the times I constantly felt unworthy because of my race the times I blamed my own skin color for things I couldn't do . . . . SORRY for the times I tried to run away from my own race when in fact I was only running away from that which I was . . . . SORRY for the many times I smeared skin bleaching creams all over my body to be lighter, in order to feel more beautiful and less black . . . . SORRY for the many many many times have blamed slaverly for almost everything under the sun . . . . . SORRY for the times I believed the lie that I don't deserve greatness,that I would never find blessings because of my race. With that said I would love to say, THANK. . . . To everyone who ever existed before me, all my ancestors who are alive and well inside of me because thats where they truly belong . . . . Maybe I should be slaughtering a cow right about now to honour this moment :-) because today my DNA says that I am Bemba,black race, a writer, a non-conformist,a freespirt, a lion, a poet, a fighter, a son of the soil, a friend, a brother, a protector and I come from a people who have re-defined the strength of a human being...And this is where I BELONG.