The world watched as instruments of power switched hands almost flawlessly. This is one small step for Africa and a giant leap for Zambia!
Celebrate with us not because you like Zambia, but because we did it right for ourselves. This is about us.
I shall return....
Saturday, September 24, 2011
Thursday, March 24, 2011
When Parents Exchange Obscenities in Public, Children Take Notes
Many years ago in my seedy neighborhood, across from my home, there lived a family that was notorious for picking fights with just about anyone. No week went by without a fight-fest from some pub, some playground, some bus stop, to the house. The haggard-looking man on stilts drunken old para-loony father and the sack of potatoes-looking fire-spitting mother were no bystanders. They would slight, shove, push, chip-shoot, mock and torment their sons' adversaries as the fighting frenzy escorted by the block mob entered their yard. Armed with sticks and pebbles they would throw in a punch, stab and whip with great caution. Through the high pitched choruses of wanu-eeh-wanu! you would hear the mother hauling obscenities at the sons' opponents.
What I found particularly intriguing was the fact that all these ba shimabungi were mooching on this one poor elder sister. Shonse ntalamisoke shi, these fighting bobs had no jobs. They were not much of anything out a street fight anyway. And school to them was like a walk on hot coal. The oldest male who challenged himself to run the academic marathon met his demise prematurely when he got murdered in cold blood by his live-in girlfriend. It was rumored that she bludgeoned him using some heavy object. While he was lying unconscious, she drilled two straight holes into his chest, from shoulders down, using a 12 inch steel and poured hot water into them. Then she tied his head between his bent knees, kept him in a sitting position with hands tied to the back for eight weeks. Gradually the body began to decompose letting off a very disturbing stench but the girl continued to live mulya mwine mu kabini. The death of the only male who would have made something out of himself drove the older sister into a depression. When she passed away, all her assets were pawned off. Poverty reigned in the family once again.
But this family is not what this piece is about. Today I want to give an Irrational Thinker's Award to a group of public figures who always remind me of this family. Each time these politicians pen their mouths, a wrong combination of words come out. A colleague of mine in Atlanta wonders why Zambian politicians think they can operate the crowds and excite their base without a script. They either think every Zambian is naive or they don't know any better. My colleague adds that, campaign stop is a crucial time. It is synonymous with an elevator moment when you are allowed only 30 seconds to do your shtick. If you have anything worthwhile to say, according to the 30-second rule, you better deliver a well buffed no-nonsense presentation in that space of time. The rest of the time you would spend explaining what it may mean to different interest groups.
I have observed with utter disappointment the manner in which some of the politicians present themselves and how they feed off the excitement of their rowdy audiences. In place of managing that energy and excitement, they get drunk on it to the point of losing their heads.
This article, Sata is mad, says George Kunda, is essentially akasamuna nkunge.
I have always wondered where the Ng'wang'wazi, Eagle-eagle, and Kaponya get their training from to insult each other umoshacela. Little did I know they are subconsciously tutored by George Kunda, Michael Sata, Ronald Shikapwasha, Wynter Kabimba, Daniel Munkombwe, and a whole host of unscripted vile-tongued politicians who are old enough to be parents to these unemployed rolling stones. For some reasons, these guys have conditioned themselves to believe that they can deliver an earth shaking off the cuff impromptu speech.
If you attempted to go back in time, you would be hard squeezed to find a time when you would hear shikuluBanda and siBwalya trading obscenities pa katande mono. So you would wonder what their parents would say if they heard them and whether they would be, like Kacepa would say, doing sit-ups in the grave upon seeing their sons' insult slinging in public every time a mic is placed in front of them.
Desmond Tutu once said, his father advised him and his siblings not to raise their voices but the quality of their arguments. Based on this one-sentence piece of advice, one can begin to analyze the content of the speeches of the Zambian politicians for quality. Truth be told, politicians miss an opportunity to educate the electorate on important national issues. But then again, you can only educate another on something you have educated yourself first. What politicians seem to have taught themselves well is not the ability to articulate ideological and and policy issues but obscenities. Consequently, their children are learning nothing from them but the art of self denigration.
Folks these politicians are unwittingly developing a culture of politics that is devoid of respect and while we stand by and look. We must stop them. Challenge them that there is no message too difficult to deliver without wrapping it in obscenities. What they ought to realize is that as a nation, we will be respected only to the degree that we demonstrate respect for ourselves.
So, when somebody tries to put somebody down we should remind them that insele fiko. We should encourage them to learn Mama Inonge Wina's style of debate and manner of presentation - well thought out, succinct and enlightening. I am yet to see a politician rival that calm yet firm style of public presentation.
This month's Irrational Thinker's Award is bestowed on George Kunda on behalf of himself and his fellow self deprecating politicians.
What I found particularly intriguing was the fact that all these ba shimabungi were mooching on this one poor elder sister. Shonse ntalamisoke shi, these fighting bobs had no jobs. They were not much of anything out a street fight anyway. And school to them was like a walk on hot coal. The oldest male who challenged himself to run the academic marathon met his demise prematurely when he got murdered in cold blood by his live-in girlfriend. It was rumored that she bludgeoned him using some heavy object. While he was lying unconscious, she drilled two straight holes into his chest, from shoulders down, using a 12 inch steel and poured hot water into them. Then she tied his head between his bent knees, kept him in a sitting position with hands tied to the back for eight weeks. Gradually the body began to decompose letting off a very disturbing stench but the girl continued to live mulya mwine mu kabini. The death of the only male who would have made something out of himself drove the older sister into a depression. When she passed away, all her assets were pawned off. Poverty reigned in the family once again.
But this family is not what this piece is about. Today I want to give an Irrational Thinker's Award to a group of public figures who always remind me of this family. Each time these politicians pen their mouths, a wrong combination of words come out. A colleague of mine in Atlanta wonders why Zambian politicians think they can operate the crowds and excite their base without a script. They either think every Zambian is naive or they don't know any better. My colleague adds that, campaign stop is a crucial time. It is synonymous with an elevator moment when you are allowed only 30 seconds to do your shtick. If you have anything worthwhile to say, according to the 30-second rule, you better deliver a well buffed no-nonsense presentation in that space of time. The rest of the time you would spend explaining what it may mean to different interest groups.
I have observed with utter disappointment the manner in which some of the politicians present themselves and how they feed off the excitement of their rowdy audiences. In place of managing that energy and excitement, they get drunk on it to the point of losing their heads.
This article, Sata is mad, says George Kunda, is essentially akasamuna nkunge.
I have always wondered where the Ng'wang'wazi, Eagle-eagle, and Kaponya get their training from to insult each other umoshacela. Little did I know they are subconsciously tutored by George Kunda, Michael Sata, Ronald Shikapwasha, Wynter Kabimba, Daniel Munkombwe, and a whole host of unscripted vile-tongued politicians who are old enough to be parents to these unemployed rolling stones. For some reasons, these guys have conditioned themselves to believe that they can deliver an earth shaking off the cuff impromptu speech.
If you attempted to go back in time, you would be hard squeezed to find a time when you would hear shikuluBanda and siBwalya trading obscenities pa katande mono. So you would wonder what their parents would say if they heard them and whether they would be, like Kacepa would say, doing sit-ups in the grave upon seeing their sons' insult slinging in public every time a mic is placed in front of them.
Desmond Tutu once said, his father advised him and his siblings not to raise their voices but the quality of their arguments. Based on this one-sentence piece of advice, one can begin to analyze the content of the speeches of the Zambian politicians for quality. Truth be told, politicians miss an opportunity to educate the electorate on important national issues. But then again, you can only educate another on something you have educated yourself first. What politicians seem to have taught themselves well is not the ability to articulate ideological and and policy issues but obscenities. Consequently, their children are learning nothing from them but the art of self denigration.
Folks these politicians are unwittingly developing a culture of politics that is devoid of respect and while we stand by and look. We must stop them. Challenge them that there is no message too difficult to deliver without wrapping it in obscenities. What they ought to realize is that as a nation, we will be respected only to the degree that we demonstrate respect for ourselves.
So, when somebody tries to put somebody down we should remind them that insele fiko. We should encourage them to learn Mama Inonge Wina's style of debate and manner of presentation - well thought out, succinct and enlightening. I am yet to see a politician rival that calm yet firm style of public presentation.
This month's Irrational Thinker's Award is bestowed on George Kunda on behalf of himself and his fellow self deprecating politicians.
Sunday, March 20, 2011
The Zambian Economy through the lens of Ms. Nawakwi
One major reason the Zambian economy is not doing very well is, it is being run by people who are not strong enough. What an interesting observation by former minister of Finance and now president of an opposition political party.
I have always doubted the accuracy of the stroke of the pen of the news scribes regardless of who they work for. There is always that personal effect that cannot be ignored. In following the logic in Ms. Nawakwi's arguments, I see a few flaws that underpin her claim that the people running the country are not strong enough. These words, having been uttered by a presidential aspirant, need to be examined a little closely.
Ms. Nawakwi does not say what kind of strength is not enough in the people leading the country. Whether she purposely overlooked that part or not, the lack of clarity on that part alone weakens her subsequent arguments. Let me preface what I am about to do here with the statement. Every time you set out to criticize somebody, outline the points of disagreement and then, one by one, assign reasons why you disagree. That way, even if your argument turns out to be weak, you would have demonstrated that your thought process was logical, you knew what you were talking about except you did not just have the necessary expertise to give a foolproof solution.
I will follow that same line of argument here.
1. Ms. Nawakwi says, "ideally, the mining companies were supposed to bank their monies locally and only externalize dividends and profits." Ideally? This is a policy matter that should be in place and applicable to all foreign companies wishing to do business in Zambia. What we may not know, however, and might very well have escaped Ms. Nawakwi's memory, is that there may not be sufficient low risk short-term investment vehicles for companies to put their operating capital in. Having been minister of Finance and having been involved in some of similar investment negotiations, she should have known that an element such as that is likely to be the cause. Outside environments may be quite attractive.
Foreign banks deposit their operating capital locally in Botswana because it is a policy, non-negotiable, in Botswana. We need to apply the basic concept of elasticity to our business environment when we are setting policy. One fundamental question we may want to consider is, "What would be the responsiveness of foreign investors to the formulation and implementation of policy X?"
2. Ms. Nawakwi says, "investors are nothing but people who are looking to maximise profits..." Ms. Nawakwi is right. People invest in various ventures in pursuit of profits. But that has always been the definition of an investor. And when foreigners come to Zambia with sacks of money, they are not there to spend their money, but to sow and reap. People who usually go to other countries to spend money with a different motive are either terrorists, money launderers, or tourists.
3. Ms. Nawakwi says, "unless we as Zambians realise that to create wealth, we need to create a wealthy middle class in this country and without this, the country is going to be perpetually toiling to support foreigners.” Ms. Nawakwi may have been wrongly quoted here but I think it is only fair for me to work with what we have. We do not create wealth by creating a wealthy middle class, but by creating an economic environment in which Zambians are set up to succeed. Most domestic policies we have in place are inconsistent with that ideal; from regulatory to taxation. The rules of the game and deplorable conditions of the communication and transportation infrastructure exacerbates the situation. Enforcing property rights, low interest loan guarantees, competitive commercial interest rates, and tax incentives would put us on a the path toward creating a Zambian middle class. Environmental conditions are essential.
4. Ms. Nawakwi says, “In this particular case of the exchange rate policy, the only way to address this imbalance in the trade pattern which does not favour Zambians but foreign capital is for us…specifically the minister of finance…to dollarise this economy even for one month.” Three things are wrong with her suggestion. First, the use of the word ONLY. That makes one think Ms.Nawakwi is floating the best thinking there is, a vocation that is a preserve of gurus. No disrespect but Ms. Nawakwi is no guru. Second, it is not in the purview of the minister of Finance to manipulate the currency in any color or form. In my experience and training, I have always understood this to be an integral component of monetary policy and the preserve of the Central Bank; in our case, the Bank of Zambia. It is important to keep the lines of responsibility straight and clear. Third, dollarizing the economy further erodes the respect of the Kwacha. A managed float, fixing the Kwacha to the dollar at a certain rate, might help. A few things need to be examined before this option is appealed to.
5. Ms. Nawakwi says, “Now these mines are earning dollars, let us have these mines pay our workers in dollars.” I disagree. Ms. Nawakwi, if we want the Kwacha to regain its respect, we must demand that the monies earned by the mines through copper sales must buy the Kwacha to effect domestic payments. The Kwacha will appreciate against other currencies including the dollar when there is an increased demand for it by other currencies.
6. Ms. Nawakwi laments over the trade imbalance. She says, “Now these mines are earning dollars, let us have these mines pay our workers in dollars.” I would suggest a policy that is inward looking. The drive to earn foreign exchange to enable us get what we can't produce domestically puts our economy in perpetual dependency. We need an import substitution policy that promote domestic manufacturing to meet domestic demand. An import substitution policy for a period ranging from 5 to 10 years would Zambia's self sufficiency. Simple logic in trade has it that we export when we have met our demand and excess of production over demand is what we export. We can switch policies from import substitution to export promotion when we have a solid and sustainable manufacturing base aimed at satisfying local demand. This means, trade controls have to be in place to protect certain industries and their pertinent markets.
Final Note: Perhaps the strength Ms. Nawakwi was referring to is the political will to formulate and implement policies that are Zambian centered. It is time we started looking after our interests seriously. The copper tide we are riding will last but for a number of years. It would be wise of us to think and work like copper would lose its value tonight. Efforts must be made to convert our copperdollar, if you like, to capital. Zambia is not the first country to go through this phase. What makes a difference, however, is how well it comes out at the end. If the economic growth we seem to be excited about is reflected and in the production of seasonal crops, we may very well be strong enough to formulate for ourselves policies that favor us instead of the foreigner. The growth of an economy in a less industrialized country should be measured by the extent to which it enables individuals to produce middle class incomes. Anything short of that is meaningless.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Zambia not being run by strong leaders - Nawakwi
By Patson Chilemba The Post Sun 20 Mar. 2011, 04:01 |
Nawakwi |
In an interview, Nawakwi said ideally all the mining companies were supposed to bank their monies locally and only externalise dividends and profits.
“But it is just the problem that we have had in this country where we are not strong enough. This country is not being run by people who are strong enough,” Nawakwi said. “Look at Botswana which has diamond. Where is their money (proceeds of diamond sales) banked? The answer is Botswana. Even if you go to Angola, to create business you have to have a local partner.”
Nawakwi said when the kwacha started depreciating, those in government said it was because of the global crunch and declining copper prices.
She said the copper prices had risen considerably yet the kwacha had continued to depreciate.
“I have repeatedly said that investors are nothing but people who are looking to maximise profits…unless we as Zambians realise that to create wealth, we need to create a wealthy middle class in this country and without this, the country is going to be perpetually toiling to support foreigners,” Nawakwi said. “In this particular case of the exchange rate policy, the only way to address this imbalance in the trade pattern which does not favour Zambians but foreign capital is for us…specifically the minister of finance…to dollarise this economy even for one month.”
Nawakwi said in this case foreign investors would begin to cash in their dollars.
“If you go to Zimbabwe you don't hear of Zimbabwe dollars, you hear of the US dollar and the rand, and the inflation rate is far lower there than Mr finance minister Situmbeko Musokotwane's,” Nawakwi said. “Inflation rate, why? Because there is parity in the trade.”
Nawakwi said the kwacha could only be managed if the mines cashed in more dollars in the economy.
She observed that all the money that was earned from copper by the mining companies was banked out of the country with only a few dollars being brought back to pay Zesco electricity bills and wages.
“Nothing is paid locally,” Nawakwi said. “Even the subcontractors in the mines are from India if it is KCM Konkola Copper Mines. The Zambians are just given jobs of supplying paper. How can you then expect the Zambian kwacha to have any respect on the market?”
The kwacha was now trading in the range of K4,700 to K4,900 against the US dollar but was in the range of K3,600 when the global crunch started in 2008.
Nawakwi said since the 1970s the economic policy was tailored to support the copper mines.
“It made sense at the time when we as a country owned these copper mines. When I was minister of finance we borrowed US $6million from a private bank to pay wages. It made sense for us to ask for more kwachas because we were paying our millions in kwacha,” Nawakwi said. “Now these mines are earning dollars, let us have these mines pay our workers in dollars.”
She said the inflation rate was rising on account of several factors but key among them was the almost US $2 price for a litre of petrol.
“To resolve the problem over the exchange rate, let us dollarise the economy, get all those infesters investors, these tourists investors to bank their turnover profits locally and only externalise profits and dividends. Let us create a middle class,” she said.
Nawakwi said Zambia had been dubbed as one of the leading trading nations in Sub-Saharan Africa that was not a pleasant label for any country.
“We can't even manufacture tooth picks, except for toilet paper by Softex. We can't even manufacture salt, even if we have salt pans in Mpika. We have to import everything,” said Nawakwi. “Now I can assure you that as long as we do nothing about our current disadvantaged position and you have a currency which is locally generated like the kwacha, you are not going to see your currency improving at all.”
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
Love Lives
There was a program that used to run on PBS in not too distant a past when I used to have a little telly time. It started with one of the most powerful yet simple phrases ever made by hue-man.Yes, pun intended. Folks, evidence is crystallizing around the basic fact that everyone else descended from Africans. It is not that I did not know, but I was reminded of this fact today by a colleague of mine. He is a professor of biology.
The phrase has found permanent abode in my mind:
Today I want to borrow the strength and thrust of that epigram to talk about one topic whose essence has escaped even those once thought to be the wisest of men.
Quite close wouldn't you say? Well, Love has been mentioned in poetry, sonnets, and many a song. When it blossoms between two people, it is the most powerful force known to hue-man. Wonderful stories have been written about ancient lovers who were magnetized and bound together by love. And upon reading those stories, they conjure in our minds images of blissful experiences, the form and texture of which no special words exist for its ultimate definition. Many have tried to describe it, define it, and even deconstruct it to make it easy for those who find thinking to be quite a chore.
Still confusing. If not to you then see how much sense you can make out of the following.
There are as many ways to do the love thing as there are lovers.There is no known way of describing a feeling in succinct terms because everyone feels it in a very personal way. I mean, there is no school where love is a discipline or at the very least an outline in the curriculum of a known course of study. Or we would have seen eggheads of both men and women being protected from the scotching sun by crooked motor-boards fitting the accolade - Dr. Love fimo fimo. But there are none. The sad part is there may never be any person qualified to be an authority in matters of the heart. No man of any importance who came before me or will ever come on my hills should ever claim to know more about love than another. Doubt my words at your peril
In this piece I make my first attempt at helping us understand what love should not be.
Love is the master of mimicry. Love is not finite. Therefore, it fits any configuration of the kind of hearts in which it is assigned residence. For instance, it fits in your heart following the exact form of your heart. Your heart being the white-water environment of constantly changing tastes and preferences, highs and lows of tolerance, with no fixed frame of reference but that which is presented by the day - whatever that may be.
So then, what is love to one, and the determinants of it, is a totally different animal from that of another. I said doubt my words at your own peril. Because if what I have just said were not true, people would be able to connect in the plainness of love and remain stuck like glue for at least a century. One's desire and honest effort to learning to experience the same intensity of love and appreciation that the other puts one in a customized and personalized university . And when they sit to learn, word should be unambiguous, there should be no double meaning, and perceptions should not be of mirages but impartial feelings, solid enough for one to rely on.
Those who truly loved would not let, not for a single second, allow the once green garden of love turn into a desert full of rolling balls of dry rootless shrubs. For such situation prevail only when hopes, and perceptions are diametrically opposed to reality. This is how it is with everything else in life, though. Nothing is borne exactly in the manner it is initially conceived. Because life, as is known to mortals, is a constantly changing white-water environment.
In love as in life, the success of a relationship is not enough. Happiness is everything.
So then, again, because the environment is constantly changing, the success of a relationship between two people is predicated on each person's skill to train the other to understand the terms of happiness. Each of them should ask, what about me presents happiness to the other, is it the person of me or is it what I can do? Evidently, the questioner would not know until he or she is told. This is one instance where assumption becomes a root killer. Meaning, what one person does should not be misconstrued as an act whose intention is to deceive, dupe or disappoint. In the Zambian lingo ati amasetting. All efforts must be made to avoid entertaining the idea that the other lacks discernment as regards the partner's expectations. Nothing should be left to imagination. If you can do the heavy lifting, teaching the other person how to love you must be a weightless dumbbell.
That interaction between two people, who are predisposed to processing information in a wide a array of ways, it must be understood, and who's rate of response to the changing outer environment, and indeed their own, creates another being which must be fed well by both parties. Times and areas of congruency are few and far between. Love is separate and independent being from the two people involved. The health of this love-being depends on how well both parties understand its proper nutrition.
The form and shape of this new being is like the hearts of the two people involved tied together. It is uninsulated. It can potentially wilt, weather, atrophy, and die when it is forced to serve the interest of just one instead of both. However, it can be revived by improved communication. It's health improves when expectations are openly discussed and not assumed. Consequently, it bears happiness when what is discussed is taken seriously no matter how jokingly presented.
Let me see if I can outdo myself here. I want to distill all I have said above into one short paragraph. Here goes:
Love is only defined by the circumstances two people find themselves in. How it grows from that point forward is not dependent on what other people say or think, but what is communicated between the two. They can choose to communicate honestly and allow love to blossom and bear happiness, or they can assume things and obliterate all possibilities. I don't want to downgrade the importance of love by simply saying, it is communication. Nothing can be farther from the truth. Communication is quite essential and comes in many shapes, among them is what is said and how it is said, too. The most important question one should ask to get to the bone of love is, How do I feel when I am with him or her? The varying array and granularity of the response(s) to this question would discharge love from the ICU or condemn it to death. Oh, yeah, Love is mortal. It can die too.
I end this note by saying, the more there should be to love depends on what is cast on and shared from the canvass of honesty. Illusions of romantic poetry and melodious sonnets are a luxury of aristocrats.
Lest I be misunderstood; I am not trying to be a love guru but a student of it.
And I take a little bow.
The phrase has found permanent abode in my mind:
Africa, the place where we first became human!
Today I want to borrow the strength and thrust of that epigram to talk about one topic whose essence has escaped even those once thought to be the wisest of men.
Love, the master of mimicry!
Quite close wouldn't you say? Well, Love has been mentioned in poetry, sonnets, and many a song. When it blossoms between two people, it is the most powerful force known to hue-man. Wonderful stories have been written about ancient lovers who were magnetized and bound together by love. And upon reading those stories, they conjure in our minds images of blissful experiences, the form and texture of which no special words exist for its ultimate definition. Many have tried to describe it, define it, and even deconstruct it to make it easy for those who find thinking to be quite a chore.
Still confusing. If not to you then see how much sense you can make out of the following.
There are as many ways to do the love thing as there are lovers.There is no known way of describing a feeling in succinct terms because everyone feels it in a very personal way. I mean, there is no school where love is a discipline or at the very least an outline in the curriculum of a known course of study. Or we would have seen eggheads of both men and women being protected from the scotching sun by crooked motor-boards fitting the accolade - Dr. Love fimo fimo. But there are none. The sad part is there may never be any person qualified to be an authority in matters of the heart. No man of any importance who came before me or will ever come on my hills should ever claim to know more about love than another. Doubt my words at your peril
In this piece I make my first attempt at helping us understand what love should not be.
Love is the master of mimicry. Love is not finite. Therefore, it fits any configuration of the kind of hearts in which it is assigned residence. For instance, it fits in your heart following the exact form of your heart. Your heart being the white-water environment of constantly changing tastes and preferences, highs and lows of tolerance, with no fixed frame of reference but that which is presented by the day - whatever that may be.
Love is the master of mimicry!
So then, what is love to one, and the determinants of it, is a totally different animal from that of another. I said doubt my words at your own peril. Because if what I have just said were not true, people would be able to connect in the plainness of love and remain stuck like glue for at least a century. One's desire and honest effort to learning to experience the same intensity of love and appreciation that the other puts one in a customized and personalized university . And when they sit to learn, word should be unambiguous, there should be no double meaning, and perceptions should not be of mirages but impartial feelings, solid enough for one to rely on.
Those who truly loved would not let, not for a single second, allow the once green garden of love turn into a desert full of rolling balls of dry rootless shrubs. For such situation prevail only when hopes, and perceptions are diametrically opposed to reality. This is how it is with everything else in life, though. Nothing is borne exactly in the manner it is initially conceived. Because life, as is known to mortals, is a constantly changing white-water environment.
In love as in life, the success of a relationship is not enough. Happiness is everything.
So then, again, because the environment is constantly changing, the success of a relationship between two people is predicated on each person's skill to train the other to understand the terms of happiness. Each of them should ask, what about me presents happiness to the other, is it the person of me or is it what I can do? Evidently, the questioner would not know until he or she is told. This is one instance where assumption becomes a root killer. Meaning, what one person does should not be misconstrued as an act whose intention is to deceive, dupe or disappoint. In the Zambian lingo ati amasetting. All efforts must be made to avoid entertaining the idea that the other lacks discernment as regards the partner's expectations. Nothing should be left to imagination. If you can do the heavy lifting, teaching the other person how to love you must be a weightless dumbbell.
That interaction between two people, who are predisposed to processing information in a wide a array of ways, it must be understood, and who's rate of response to the changing outer environment, and indeed their own, creates another being which must be fed well by both parties. Times and areas of congruency are few and far between. Love is separate and independent being from the two people involved. The health of this love-being depends on how well both parties understand its proper nutrition.
It's alive!
The form and shape of this new being is like the hearts of the two people involved tied together. It is uninsulated. It can potentially wilt, weather, atrophy, and die when it is forced to serve the interest of just one instead of both. However, it can be revived by improved communication. It's health improves when expectations are openly discussed and not assumed. Consequently, it bears happiness when what is discussed is taken seriously no matter how jokingly presented.
Let me see if I can outdo myself here. I want to distill all I have said above into one short paragraph. Here goes:
Love is only defined by the circumstances two people find themselves in. How it grows from that point forward is not dependent on what other people say or think, but what is communicated between the two. They can choose to communicate honestly and allow love to blossom and bear happiness, or they can assume things and obliterate all possibilities. I don't want to downgrade the importance of love by simply saying, it is communication. Nothing can be farther from the truth. Communication is quite essential and comes in many shapes, among them is what is said and how it is said, too. The most important question one should ask to get to the bone of love is, How do I feel when I am with him or her? The varying array and granularity of the response(s) to this question would discharge love from the ICU or condemn it to death. Oh, yeah, Love is mortal. It can die too.
That is why when communicating,
it is important to take time to
say what you
feel.
I end this note by saying, the more there should be to love depends on what is cast on and shared from the canvass of honesty. Illusions of romantic poetry and melodious sonnets are a luxury of aristocrats.
Lest I be misunderstood; I am not trying to be a love guru but a student of it.
And I take a little bow.
Thursday, March 10, 2011
From the Sublime to the Ridiculous
Remember when the measure of a child's approbation included going to church on Sunday?
I remember back then as a child when we looked forward to going to the celestial Sunday rendezvous of the meek and the devoted. I remember my older siblings bathing me up and applying an imperceptible film of Vaseline Petroleum jelly to my little round face. But for my sausagy legs, a bit of lather from a bar soap helped bring out that natural mocha color. They would then slip me into an outfit maintained holeless for the express purpose of weekly special occasion. During the week, it was folded and tacked away in a suitcase, all the while drenching in the concentrated aroma of kambolokonya. You had to be a little bit eccentric child for your little nose to stand the nose-shriveling strong whiff of your clothes taken out of kambolokonya-filled suitcase. I hated it! But my mother it was allright. According to her, kambolokonya did not only give clothes a fresh scent but also kept utusumi at bay. I have to give it to her, my mother (peace reign upon her spirit) was one of the most witty women I knew.
Allow me to boast about her for just a second: My mother practically proved the theory of natural selection independent of Darwin. She did not know Darwin from Adam, yet what she did in her spare-time was such a marvelous display of differential reproduction of genotypes in action. I did not understand it until my second year in college. Imagine a woman who had never even seen the inside of a primitive lecture room conducted experiments year after year and came up with results that everyone who came into contact with them, wanted a piece. That was only one of my mother's strong points; what she missed out in school, she made it up in her personal undertakings. You could not help but be fascinated by her dedication and self application. She strove for excellence in everything she did. Her other strong point was, she raised me. I was not the easiest child ukukansha, but my mother excelled once again.
My mother also made me believe that to be umawana musuma, atemwa ukukula na mano, it was absolutely essential that you attended church on Sunday. Evidently, I loved my mother and so I went everywhere she said I needed to. I was umwana musuma, you would say or, mayo ali nkushishe bwino. She did a great job, if I may say so myself.
But that only lasted as long as I was under her watch. Ilyo twafumine pang'anda, twaliya ikata iciila and bright lights. Some of my siblings got tossed and battered by the violent waves of life. Unfortunately, they passed on a little too early. Others did pretty much follow mu nkasa sha mufyashi. I took a turn and got to be different from everyone else in may ways. The consequences of that are a topic for another discussion. Suffice to say, many who knew me as a child think there is a complete disconnect between the child they knew and the man he bore. I have grown, I say. Not in girth, mukushishinkana. This piece, however, is not about me. Neither is it about my mother. It is about what has happened to the sublime celestial groves I once craved.
To my mother's dismay, I drifted from the once sublime groves. I think houses of worship used to be places to be, to escape from the excessive daily toll we pay both consciously and otherwise. Not anymore! They are just as taxing and as corrupting as any trendy night club. Some are comparatively sicker than famous Chez Ntemba.
When we patronized them, even as children, we humbled ourselves before the gods. We paid homage to the gods in appreciation of the harvests and the good health. Those we perceived to be messengers spoke about being clean and wholesome. They advised the adherents to abandon worldly pursuits and seek righteousness. Some of them actually walked the walk too. Not all of them, though. Just some of them. In fact, few of them led exemplary lives. But the rest of them were stinking dirty rotten scoundrels - deceptive and cunning ba kateka, balelya nokuputilisha.
In today's churches, being humble and seeking atonement is not the aim. Rather showboating is encouraged. Congrgants are preoccupied with what used to be "ifya kunse." Now efya mukati. Ifilimba, ma-wee! There is no difference between icongo ca mu mashebeen ne ca mumacalici. Kuti banjo nga nailila, niteka fitalale. Abene ati tushanine ba YHW. Tufwenkwile ba YWH. Mwe benashikulu mwe! Ukufwenkula nsele nsele, cumi? Which wrong exit did the church take and when?
Another thing is, the talks are no longer about seeking righteousness. Talks are about umutulo and ways to generate more so that uletula uukulu. Those who can't meet the expectations, like myself, choose to stay away, because we don't want to embarrass ourselves again and again. But some who choose to stick in, steal.
I know people who fleece the government and tithe big. They even boast about it. They shamelessly claim that 'it is god who gave them the ingenuity' to fleece the government. Each time I hear such ridiculous words get sent out of their mouth, I ask myself, 'did the gods listen to humans more before than they do today?' I have been grappling with that question for a while and I am very close to accepting it as a fact.
I am actually beginning to believe that the gods are upset with us; they may have gone away and left us to our own vices. We have turned the sublime to the ridiculous and that is why we are having what seems like an endless stream of insurmountable problems. It is not only the Zambians, but all humankind.
I am here suggesting that to be well again, against incredible odds, we must go back to our ways - ku fishilano fyesu.
I remember back then as a child when we looked forward to going to the celestial Sunday rendezvous of the meek and the devoted. I remember my older siblings bathing me up and applying an imperceptible film of Vaseline Petroleum jelly to my little round face. But for my sausagy legs, a bit of lather from a bar soap helped bring out that natural mocha color. They would then slip me into an outfit maintained holeless for the express purpose of weekly special occasion. During the week, it was folded and tacked away in a suitcase, all the while drenching in the concentrated aroma of kambolokonya. You had to be a little bit eccentric child for your little nose to stand the nose-shriveling strong whiff of your clothes taken out of kambolokonya-filled suitcase. I hated it! But my mother it was allright. According to her, kambolokonya did not only give clothes a fresh scent but also kept utusumi at bay. I have to give it to her, my mother (peace reign upon her spirit) was one of the most witty women I knew.
Allow me to boast about her for just a second: My mother practically proved the theory of natural selection independent of Darwin. She did not know Darwin from Adam, yet what she did in her spare-time was such a marvelous display of differential reproduction of genotypes in action. I did not understand it until my second year in college. Imagine a woman who had never even seen the inside of a primitive lecture room conducted experiments year after year and came up with results that everyone who came into contact with them, wanted a piece. That was only one of my mother's strong points; what she missed out in school, she made it up in her personal undertakings. You could not help but be fascinated by her dedication and self application. She strove for excellence in everything she did. Her other strong point was, she raised me. I was not the easiest child ukukansha, but my mother excelled once again.
My mother also made me believe that to be umawana musuma, atemwa ukukula na mano, it was absolutely essential that you attended church on Sunday. Evidently, I loved my mother and so I went everywhere she said I needed to. I was umwana musuma, you would say or, mayo ali nkushishe bwino. She did a great job, if I may say so myself.
But that only lasted as long as I was under her watch. Ilyo twafumine pang'anda, twaliya ikata iciila and bright lights. Some of my siblings got tossed and battered by the violent waves of life. Unfortunately, they passed on a little too early. Others did pretty much follow mu nkasa sha mufyashi. I took a turn and got to be different from everyone else in may ways. The consequences of that are a topic for another discussion. Suffice to say, many who knew me as a child think there is a complete disconnect between the child they knew and the man he bore. I have grown, I say. Not in girth, mukushishinkana. This piece, however, is not about me. Neither is it about my mother. It is about what has happened to the sublime celestial groves I once craved.
To my mother's dismay, I drifted from the once sublime groves. I think houses of worship used to be places to be, to escape from the excessive daily toll we pay both consciously and otherwise. Not anymore! They are just as taxing and as corrupting as any trendy night club. Some are comparatively sicker than famous Chez Ntemba.
When we patronized them, even as children, we humbled ourselves before the gods. We paid homage to the gods in appreciation of the harvests and the good health. Those we perceived to be messengers spoke about being clean and wholesome. They advised the adherents to abandon worldly pursuits and seek righteousness. Some of them actually walked the walk too. Not all of them, though. Just some of them. In fact, few of them led exemplary lives. But the rest of them were stinking dirty rotten scoundrels - deceptive and cunning ba kateka, balelya nokuputilisha.
In today's churches, being humble and seeking atonement is not the aim. Rather showboating is encouraged. Congrgants are preoccupied with what used to be "ifya kunse." Now efya mukati. Ifilimba, ma-wee! There is no difference between icongo ca mu mashebeen ne ca mumacalici. Kuti banjo nga nailila, niteka fitalale. Abene ati tushanine ba YHW. Tufwenkwile ba YWH. Mwe benashikulu mwe! Ukufwenkula nsele nsele, cumi? Which wrong exit did the church take and when?
Another thing is, the talks are no longer about seeking righteousness. Talks are about umutulo and ways to generate more so that uletula uukulu. Those who can't meet the expectations, like myself, choose to stay away, because we don't want to embarrass ourselves again and again. But some who choose to stick in, steal.
I know people who fleece the government and tithe big. They even boast about it. They shamelessly claim that 'it is god who gave them the ingenuity' to fleece the government. Each time I hear such ridiculous words get sent out of their mouth, I ask myself, 'did the gods listen to humans more before than they do today?' I have been grappling with that question for a while and I am very close to accepting it as a fact.
I am actually beginning to believe that the gods are upset with us; they may have gone away and left us to our own vices. We have turned the sublime to the ridiculous and that is why we are having what seems like an endless stream of insurmountable problems. It is not only the Zambians, but all humankind.
I am here suggesting that to be well again, against incredible odds, we must go back to our ways - ku fishilano fyesu.
Saturday, March 5, 2011
Emotion is the enemy of wise music craft
The first time I heard the saying in ciBemba that "Bakolwe basekana ifipato," I thoguht it was restricted to our arboreal cousins.
I grew up in a komboni on the Copperbelt. I did not choose that seedy neighborhood for my nursery. This is the one time when I unknowingly ceded responsibility to the hands of other people and say, "the decision was made for me." I have not regrets though. Most importantly I worked hard to change things. As I say, "Every devastating blow carries with it the seed of strength." You can see, I lived to talk about it.
Others did, too. But most of those that I grew up with have passed on. This piece, however, is not about me. Rather it is about those that are coming on my heels. Those who are suffering the same belittlement as the komboni kids always do by the kids from ku mayadi. At the time I thought they were snobs. But in retrospect, I think they did not have much of a choice either.
I am not quite sure but entertainer Dandy Krazy could be one of those coming on my heels. In Krazy's view, the Award things are not working well for him. They fall short of meeting his expectations - whatever those expectations were. And using the best means available to him, he lashes out at them all!
I was about to label Krazy's outbursts as irrational when I noticed some other dude who sounded like a kid from ku mayadi decided to reduce Krazy to a mere caricature of a performer. As you will soon notice, Krazy did not mention a name. Instead, he, in no uncertain terms, indicated that he had an axe to grind with the organizations. But the dude who sounded like a kid from ku mayadi personalized the whole issue. He went for Krazy's jugular and tore the poor Komboni young man apart. This is not an attempt to stand in solidarity with fellow Komboni survivor, but to highlight the poverty of thought in some of our young men. This lack of tolerance for one another and patience to try and understand first before acting is a blight that is likely to be carried through to public office should these young men decide to run for office.
One can argue that the fussing and fighting we are forced to witness in public figures is rubbing off to the young generation. Those aspiring to and holding public office of any magnitude ought to realize that emotion is the enemy of wise statecraft.
I have highlighted with blue what I thought were incendiary comments and inserted my comments in brown.
...........................................................................................................................
FOLLOWING Dandy Krazy’s outbursts against the Ngoma and Born and Bred awards at a performance held at Breakpoint in Lusaka recently, the Zambia One Comedy outfit have expressed their disappointment with the singer’s behaviour and charged that he is ignorant over how much the organisers put in to come up with the awards.
In an interview with the Weekend Post, Zambia One director of productions Derrick Kondowe said the behaviour exhibited by Dandy Krazy is unacceptable. Having read the comments in yesterday's paper and assuming they were true, I will agree with Kondowe.
“First and foremost, I want to appeal to the executive of Zambia Association of Musicians to discipline the boy for embarrassing the entire music association. I am wondering who really is an ignoramus here. But I will let you be the judge. I should mention however that his term, boy, does tend to carry derogatory connotations when used in the context that he did. We need to educate these artistes before they go on issuing useless comments about the local awards because they have misunderstood the essence of the awards,“ Kondowe said.What kind of education would that be ba Kondowe, if I may ask?
He said the awards are meant to recognise artistes' efforts in order to motivate them to do more in their careers.
“Coming to Born N' Bred, an initiative by Innocent Kalaluka the producer of Smooth Talk, it came about to encourage musicians to produce videos that are internationally accepted. There seems to be this insatiable desire to please the 'international.' What manner of beast is this thing called 'international' that wants to be fed at the expense of the local Zambians? Born N' Bred was made out of personal sacrifice by Kalaluka and maybe they make money out of advertisements. And for them to even offer K1m prize money it should be commended. I would appreciate if this came from seasoned artistes like Danny ‘Kaya’ Siulapwa or the Sakala Brothers because these play live music on stage, not some chaps who board a Marco Polo bus to Lusaka with a scratched disc to come and play here in Lusaka and make disparaging remarks against the local awards,” he said. Up until this point, I was thinking Kondowe was concerned about the nature of the comments and not the the status and economic condition of the person who uttered them. Should it matter what mode of transportation Krazy used to travel? It is beginning to crystallize in my mind that Kondowe may not after all be a kid from ku mayadi.
I am beginning to suspect Kondowe is one of those kids we called "fuzi." The term, Fuzi, was used to describe a Seyfert who was always a step behind somebody but was always in the frontline protecting the image and the body of he that they envied. I love Danny and I think he cranks out some unique tunes all the time, but he does not always play live music while the Salaka bothers do. But be that as it may, not all musicians are going to have the luck of leading a band. There will always be somebody struggling on the fringes who would fit the description of a "starving musician." But it may not be by choice. Not every one was born with a silver spoon in their mouth. Some are born na mabula ya nkonde mukanwa.
Kondowe appeal to Dandy Krazy to apologise to the organisers of the Born N' Bred and Ngoma awards.
“ZAM is of the musicians’ organisations that can hold one of the most prestigious awards in the country but for one of the artistes to come and insult the existing award(s) is an insult to all the artistes, including myself. He (Dandy) should focus on improving his poor musical and video works rather than insulting the awards,” Kondowe said.
He said currently the music videos being shown on local television channels could not match or compete at international level.
“Our brother Jordan Katembula (JK) has improved on his works, therefore Dandy should emulate him because JK can attract corporate organisations to sponsor his music because he has made us proud. In all fairness, Kondowe should speak for himself. Some people feel JK does not not really measure up. Therefore, Dandy Krazy should not get excited over nothing when he performs in these bars and make bad comments, he only rubbishes ZAM…Let him behave like a role model because many people are looking up to him. Even the organisation that is sponsoring him cannot like to be associated with insults. What he is simply telling us is that when you drink the same sachet of ‘Krazy Berry’ he was advertising at Breakpoint, you become violent and begin to insult other people,” said Kondowe. So, Krazy has a corporate sponsor! And Kondowe knows there are people looking up to him? Kondowe is contradicting himself here.
At a performance at Breakpoint a fortnight ago, Dandy Krazy said he did not believe in the Ngoma and Born N' Bred awards because the prize monies they offered to winning artistes was insufficient and only belittled artistes.
He described the Born N' Bred Awards as useless and the Ngoma Awards rubbish.
Final Note: Let's learn to listen well, think rationally, and speak right. And most of all, let's learn to be tolerant of one another. We must not always push each other under the bus in a bid to please a foreigner. All foreigners have imyabo, no kubwekela balabwekela. Imyesu is you me and every Zambian looking out for each other.
I grew up in a komboni on the Copperbelt. I did not choose that seedy neighborhood for my nursery. This is the one time when I unknowingly ceded responsibility to the hands of other people and say, "the decision was made for me." I have not regrets though. Most importantly I worked hard to change things. As I say, "Every devastating blow carries with it the seed of strength." You can see, I lived to talk about it.
Others did, too. But most of those that I grew up with have passed on. This piece, however, is not about me. Rather it is about those that are coming on my heels. Those who are suffering the same belittlement as the komboni kids always do by the kids from ku mayadi. At the time I thought they were snobs. But in retrospect, I think they did not have much of a choice either.
I am not quite sure but entertainer Dandy Krazy could be one of those coming on my heels. In Krazy's view, the Award things are not working well for him. They fall short of meeting his expectations - whatever those expectations were. And using the best means available to him, he lashes out at them all!
I was about to label Krazy's outbursts as irrational when I noticed some other dude who sounded like a kid from ku mayadi decided to reduce Krazy to a mere caricature of a performer. As you will soon notice, Krazy did not mention a name. Instead, he, in no uncertain terms, indicated that he had an axe to grind with the organizations. But the dude who sounded like a kid from ku mayadi personalized the whole issue. He went for Krazy's jugular and tore the poor Komboni young man apart. This is not an attempt to stand in solidarity with fellow Komboni survivor, but to highlight the poverty of thought in some of our young men. This lack of tolerance for one another and patience to try and understand first before acting is a blight that is likely to be carried through to public office should these young men decide to run for office.
One can argue that the fussing and fighting we are forced to witness in public figures is rubbing off to the young generation. Those aspiring to and holding public office of any magnitude ought to realize that emotion is the enemy of wise statecraft.
I have highlighted with blue what I thought were incendiary comments and inserted my comments in brown.
...........................................................................................................................
Kondowe urges ZAM to discipline Dandy
By Lovely Kayombo Fri 21 Jan. 2011, 18:00 |
Dandy Krazy |
In an interview with the Weekend Post, Zambia One director of productions Derrick Kondowe said the behaviour exhibited by Dandy Krazy is unacceptable. Having read the comments in yesterday's paper and assuming they were true, I will agree with Kondowe.
“First and foremost, I want to appeal to the executive of Zambia Association of Musicians to discipline the boy for embarrassing the entire music association. I am wondering who really is an ignoramus here. But I will let you be the judge. I should mention however that his term, boy, does tend to carry derogatory connotations when used in the context that he did. We need to educate these artistes before they go on issuing useless comments about the local awards because they have misunderstood the essence of the awards,“ Kondowe said.What kind of education would that be ba Kondowe, if I may ask?
He said the awards are meant to recognise artistes' efforts in order to motivate them to do more in their careers.
“Coming to Born N' Bred, an initiative by Innocent Kalaluka the producer of Smooth Talk, it came about to encourage musicians to produce videos that are internationally accepted. There seems to be this insatiable desire to please the 'international.' What manner of beast is this thing called 'international' that wants to be fed at the expense of the local Zambians? Born N' Bred was made out of personal sacrifice by Kalaluka and maybe they make money out of advertisements. And for them to even offer K1m prize money it should be commended. I would appreciate if this came from seasoned artistes like Danny ‘Kaya’ Siulapwa or the Sakala Brothers because these play live music on stage, not some chaps who board a Marco Polo bus to Lusaka with a scratched disc to come and play here in Lusaka and make disparaging remarks against the local awards,” he said. Up until this point, I was thinking Kondowe was concerned about the nature of the comments and not the the status and economic condition of the person who uttered them. Should it matter what mode of transportation Krazy used to travel? It is beginning to crystallize in my mind that Kondowe may not after all be a kid from ku mayadi.
Kondowe appeal to Dandy Krazy to apologise to the organisers of the Born N' Bred and Ngoma awards.
“ZAM is of the musicians’ organisations that can hold one of the most prestigious awards in the country but for one of the artistes to come and insult the existing award(s) is an insult to all the artistes, including myself. He (Dandy) should focus on improving his poor musical and video works rather than insulting the awards,” Kondowe said.
He said currently the music videos being shown on local television channels could not match or compete at international level.
“Our brother Jordan Katembula (JK) has improved on his works, therefore Dandy should emulate him because JK can attract corporate organisations to sponsor his music because he has made us proud. In all fairness, Kondowe should speak for himself. Some people feel JK does not not really measure up. Therefore, Dandy Krazy should not get excited over nothing when he performs in these bars and make bad comments, he only rubbishes ZAM…Let him behave like a role model because many people are looking up to him. Even the organisation that is sponsoring him cannot like to be associated with insults. What he is simply telling us is that when you drink the same sachet of ‘Krazy Berry’ he was advertising at Breakpoint, you become violent and begin to insult other people,” said Kondowe. So, Krazy has a corporate sponsor! And Kondowe knows there are people looking up to him? Kondowe is contradicting himself here.
At a performance at Breakpoint a fortnight ago, Dandy Krazy said he did not believe in the Ngoma and Born N' Bred awards because the prize monies they offered to winning artistes was insufficient and only belittled artistes.
He described the Born N' Bred Awards as useless and the Ngoma Awards rubbish.
Final Note: Let's learn to listen well, think rationally, and speak right. And most of all, let's learn to be tolerant of one another. We must not always push each other under the bus in a bid to please a foreigner. All foreigners have imyabo, no kubwekela balabwekela. Imyesu is you me and every Zambian looking out for each other.
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Politics of Poverty: "I hold this truth to be self evident"
This is one time that I could not resist the urge to read a lot into what somebody said. Judge me if you must but don't blame me. Mike's words were carefully selected and uttered repeatedly in what seemed like a rare moment of courage.
Mike is telling us, assuming the scribe quoted him accurately, that Zambian politics is about the self and not service to the people. "...advantaging yourself," he insists. Whatever happened to the reasons we engage in politics in the first place? Has differing on the methodologies and subsequent techniques of addressing concerns of a public nature taken on a different descriptor? I thought politics was it.
professor Mike Mulongoti just gave us a new definition for the word politics - advantaging oneself - (by any means necessary?) and, in my view, is the number one reason the majority of Zambians is poor. Ours is indeed Politics of Poverty. As one of my mutola nkhani friends once said, "...if everyone who is guilty of a crime were to be locked up, the entire government would be behind bars". I thought that was a profound statement. And why aren't they?
Anyway read on:
..........................................................................................................................
I'm better than Kunda - Mulongoti
By Patson Chilemba Thu 17 Feb. 2011, 04:02 |
Mulongoti |
Reacting to Vice-President Kunda’s remarks that he was the best candidate for the MMD vice-presidency because he was one of the principal legal advisors to the government and was better placed to serve with President Rupiah Banda, Mulongoti, who is works and supply minister and MMD vice-presidential aspirant, said he had explained about his proven track record in the party, and others should do the same.
“I do hope they can give us the opportunity to debate so that the public can begin to pass judgement on us. I am not averse to debate. I am not averse to the people passing judgement on me because after all I am accessing myself to public scrutiny,” he said.
Mulongoti said Kunda should show his achievements in the MMD rather than talking about his performance in government.
“We are talking about elections. I do not think we should now bring government work into the party because the party exists as an entity. So the party also requires support. So I made a declaration and indication of what I have done in the party and I am sure everybody can see what I have done,” Mulongoti said. “If the basis is performance in government, we will all start talking about government. All I can say is I welcome him Kunda in the arena. He is my brother and I hope he can compete in a very brotherly manner.”
On Vice-President Kunda’s apparent reference to Mulongoti to stop making insinuations against other party members, Mulongoti said politics was about advantaging oneself.
He said politics was about competing at an intellectual level.
“I don’t know what type of politics they are thinking of where we have a dialogue of the dumb. Politics is not a dialogue of the dumb. Politics is about advantaging yourself. Everything you say is about advantaging yourself,” said Mulongoti. “If now everything you say becomes a crime, who is going to compete with who? Politics is not for the faint-hearted.”
Addressing the press and cadres at the Lusaka province party headquarters on Tuesday, Vice-President Kunda said he understood how the MMD operated having provided legal guidance to the party and government since he joined politics.
He said he worked well with President Banda and that relationship should not be interrupted.
Vice-President Kunda said party members should not experiment with leadership but go for tested leadership.
Adopted from The Post. February 17, 2011
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)