A peaceful Sunday morning turned chaotic for Azizi as he was brought to the emergency room. He was in agony, bleeding, and had huge bite marks on him, mostly on his arms and legs. He claimed it was a Boerboel that attacked him, but the doctors doubted the validity of his story due to the size of the wounds.
Meanwhile, the police received an anonymous tip suggesting that a wild animal might be on the loose in the city after having bitten someone. The tipster provided the police with the address of an apartment in Langa, Cape Town. Upon arrival, the police heard a menacing growl coming from inside through the front door. Eager to investigate, they made their way to the apartment next door, grabbed a drill, and started making tiny holes in the wall to peek inside. To their shock, they were met with the unexpected sight of a 200-kilogram African lion lounging in the Langa apartment. The pressing question was: How on earth did the king of the jungle end up there?
Back to Azizi, a 31-year-old part-time driver for a ride-sharing company who had a strong love for animals. He went to the extent of illegally acquiring an infant Cape baboon and a lion cub from an exotic animal trainer in Cape Town and bringing them to live with him in his government-subsidised apartment in Langa. Azizi already had a ball python named Sly living with him in his apartment, and now he also has a Cape baboon and a lion. What could possibly go wrong?
When Azizi acquired the Cape baboon, it was unwell, leading to a short life span. Sadly, the baboon passed away shortly after, but the lion cub survived. Azizi named the cub Shiba and raised him in his apartment, providing him with his own room, a sandbox to play in, and transitioning him to solid food. Their bond grew strong, making them the best of friends.
After two and a half years had passed, Shiba had outgrown his cub days. He had transformed into a 200-kilograms king of the beasts, yet he still resided in that government-subsidised apartment with Azizi and Sly. Azizi supposedly fed him 8 to 10-kilograms of chicken daily, considering his massive size. Lions sure do have an appetite!
If you thought a man and a giant lion sharing an apartment was a recipe for disaster, you wouldn't be alone. However, against all odds, everything was actually going perfectly well.
It was a regular day until Azizi encountered a stray house cat lingering right outside his doorstep. Driven by his affection for animals, he welcomed the cat into his home, adopted him, and lovingly named him Shadow. To ensure Shadow's comfort, Azizi arranged a special room for him, away from Shiba.
After about three weeks, Azizi and Shiba were playfully wrestling, their usual way of playing together. Suddenly, Shadow emerged from his room, and Shiba, catching a glimpse of him, immediately switched into wild animal mode. He sprang into action, pursuing Shadow relentlessly around the place in an attempt to capture and eliminate him. Azizi quickly reacted by positioning himself between Shiba and Shadow, only to end up being tackled by Shiba. Azizi held onto him tightly to prevent him from going after Shadow, but that's when Shiba latched onto Azizi's neck, then his arm, and finally clamped down on his knee, refusing to release his grip.
Azizi found himself in a precarious situation when his knee ended up in the mouth of an African lion. The tense standoff lasted for two long minutes before Shiba decided to release him. Feeling remorseful, Shiba quickly sought refuge in the bathroom. In great pain, Azizi was forced to dial for paramedics, who quickly transported him to the hospital. It was then that he fabricated a story about a Boerboel attack, worried that they would uncover Shiba and take his lion away.
Back at the neighbour's place, the police officers gazed through the hole they had created in the wall and were startled to find a fully-grown lion lounging inside. "Yoh, yoh, yooh!" the officers exclaimed in disbelief. Now, they needed to brainstorm a strategy to safely remove this 200-kilograms beast without becoming its next meal.
A police officer rappelled down the building with a tranquillizer gun in hand. Upon reaching the apartment window, he glimpsed Shiba inside. Taking aim through the bars, he fired a dart, striking Shiba on the shoulder.
Shiba's reaction was clear: he was not happy with the situation, leading him to get angry and charge at the window, repeatedly slamming against it. Fortunately, Shiba eventually succumbed to the tranquillizer, and the police were able to safely remove both Shiba and Sly from Azizi's apartment before relocating them. As expected, Azizi was taken into custody.
Charged with reckless endangerment and keeping wild animals without the proper permit, he was convicted and handed a fifteen-month prison term after a court hearing.
Sly, the ball python, was rehoused in a snake sanctuary in Cape Town, and Shiba was moved to an animal sanctuary in Paarl, where he had the opportunity to run and play with other big cats, including lions.
Until the age of nineteen years and four months, Shiba lived in that location, a significant lifespan in lion years. Sadly, he eventually passed away from natural causes.
Shadow was never seen again.
"Now that I knew fear, I also knew it was not permanent. As powerful as it was, its grip on me would loosen. It would pass."
No end of story has been told, several legends have been born; tiny runnels have wiped out into the Nile; massive water courses had gorged the Indian and the Atlantic.
Africa is the native land of all mankind species, our cherished fatherland is the continent of Africa; you are always welcome to Africa.
Jewels are found in the stain atop, pure beauty is found in our hearts; giving hope with full-blown vision.
For many people of the world, Africa is time and again seen through a spare monocle, purified curtain abodes of indigence, deprivation, illness, dearth, and blues.
Yes, we have our threat, it's true, but we are a people of physiques, resilience and faith; African elevation comes alive as a cloud nine.
Africa is a continent of countries, clans, of peoples; each with its olden days, its voice, its rainbows; its bounty of rituals, the diversity of its arts; and the charm of its civilization.
Africa is a nook of titanic conceivable of chow that is appetizing, fervent and sweet; Africa is not a spot of shadows, but a distance of light of a nightmare and opportunity; Africa is not a hole of pity, but a place of influence and self-respect.
We are the offshoot of a proud continent, Africa is where the sun steps up and bents with a scorching effulgence; making it a place where every day is a sunny season.
"Ubuntu is very difficult to render into a Western language. It speaks of the very essence of being human. When we want to give high praise to someone we say, "Yu, u nobuntu"; "Hey, so-and-so has ubuntu." Then you are generous, you are hospitable, you are friendly and caring and compassionate. You share what you have. It is to say, "My humanity is caught up, is inextricably bound up, in yours." We belong in a bundle of life. We say, "A person is a person through other persons." It is not, "I think therefore I am." It says rather: "I am human because I belong. I participate, I share." A person with ubuntu is open and available to others, affirming of others, does not feel threatened that others are able and good, for he or she has a proper self-assurance that comes from knowing that he or she belongs in a greater whole and is diminished when others are humiliated or diminished, when others are tortured or oppressed, or treated as if they were less than who they are."
This volume covers the history of the Kings, Queens, and Amazons of Danxom, a major African kingdom in what is currently the country of Benin, formerly known as Dahomey on the west coast of Africa. It is based on African local oral history and accounts by both Western visitors and African historians.
Al J. Venter has seen the worst crimes committed by humanity in the previous 55 years, from fleeing gunfire in war-torn nations to living in a little hamlet in Natal. Having covered more than 25 wars, he is the oldest active war correspondent. In his memoir, he skillfully narrates the tales of the battles he covered, the behind-the-scenes anecdotes, and the journey across Africa that altered his life.
Why It's So Hard for White People to Talk About Racism.
With clarity and compassion, Robin DiAngelo allows us to understand racism as a practice not restricted to "bad people." In doing so, she moves our national discussions forward.
"There is an enemy. There is an intelligent, active, malign force working against us. Step one is to recognise this. This recognition alone is enormously powerful. It saved my life, and it will save yours." -- Steven Pressfield
In the fight against neoliberalism, rural movements have gained prominence as crucial social forces. From Brazil and Mexico to Zimbabwe and the Philippines, these movements, with differing political ideologies but a shared foundation of dispossessed peasants and unemployed workers, have utilised tactics like land occupations to stand up against the neoliberal state.
Across three continents - Africa, Latin America, and Asia - this book compiles a set of original investigations on the latest rural social movements.
A comprehensive account of South African history explores the time frame spanning from 1852 to 1918, emphasising key moments that impacted the diverse population of South Africa from the era of four distinct states to the era of unity and beyond. Engaging narratives showcase the complexities of our society, illustrating the struggles of forging a unified community from our varied cultures and people. The central theme of the title recurs consistently.
Al Venter regards himself as an African - a 'white' African, but as much a part of the fascinating and often troubled continent on which he was born as his Zulu and Swahili speaking contemporaries. There is no country in Africa that he has not visited. During his half-century career as a foreign correspondent, working for media outlets on four continents, he has given his version of unfolding events from many of them, including Britain's Jane's Information Group, the Daily Express and Daily Mail of London, United Press International, Geneva's Interavia, the BBC, SABC, and NBC (radio), as well as scores of magazines. His love for Africa stems, in part, from his childhood. At the age of 14, while on vacation in what was then still Northern Rhodesia, he hitch-hiked back to boarding school in Johannesburg in a race with his schoolmates, who travelled by train. And he won. Seven years later, after completing three years in the navy, he explored East Africa, ended up in Mombasa, Kenya, and cadged a lift on a freighter to Canada. Then, after qualifying professionally in London, he travelled overland through West Africa all the way to London. Along the way, he met many notables, including Ghana's Kwame Nkrumah and the man who hosted Graham Greene at his derelict hotel in Liberia, then all but an American colony, where the 'greenback' was the official currency, as well as the great Dr. Albert Schweitzer. The author spent a week at his jungle clinic at Lambarane in Gabon. Venter includes many of these adventures in this new book. He also delves into some of his military adventures and has invited several of his old colleagues to add some of their thoughts to this bundle of travel, adventure, and excitement to create a remarkable insight into a continent that, though briefly 'tamed' by Europe, was never really subjugated. In that anomaly too, there lies much stirring yarn.
LIFE is like a guidebook, offering insights on navigating through the highs and lows, twists and turns, and obstacles we encounter. It is filled with warmth, understanding, and valuable lessons that illuminate the joy found in simple moments. This book teaches us to embrace a life brimming with tranquillity, joy, and courage.
With a focus on self-love, self-acceptance, growth, and healing, "Dear Self" is an effortlessly flowing compilation of kind reminders and affirmations. This collection takes you on an introspective and contemplative journey that leads you to discover all the layers of yourself that are just waiting to be loved.
"If sharks were men," Mr. K. was asked by his landlady's little girl, "would they be nicer to the little fishes?"
"Certainly," he said. "If sharks were men, they would build enormous boxes in the ocean for the little fish, with all kinds of food inside, both vegetable and animal. They would take care that the boxes always had fresh water, and in general they would make all kinds of sanitary arrangements. If, for example, a little fish were to injure a fin, it would immediately be bandaged so that it would not die and be lost to the sharks before its time. So that the little fish would not become melancholy, there would be big water festivals from time to time because cheerful fish taste better than melancholy ones.
"There would, of course, also be schools in the big boxes. In these schools, the little fish would learn how to swim into the sharks' jaws. They would need to know geography, for example, so that they could find the big sharks, who lie idly around somewhere. The principal subject would, of course, be the moral education of the little fish. They would be taught that it would be the best and most beautiful thing in the world if a little fish sacrificed itself cheerfully and that they all had to believe the sharks, especially when the latter said they were providing for a beautiful future. The little fish would be taught that this future is assured only if they learnt obedience. The little fish had to beware of all base, materialist, egotistical, and Marxist inclinations, and if one of their number betrayed such inclinations, they had to report it to the sharks immediately.
"If sharks were men, they would, of course, also wage wars against one another in order to conquer other fish boxes and other little fish. The wars would be waged by their own little fish. They would teach their little fish that there was an enormous difference between themselves and the little fish belonging to the other sharks. Little fish, they would announce, are well known to be mute, but they are silent in quite different languages and hence find it impossible to understand one another. Each little fish that, in a war, killed a couple of other little fish, enemy ones, silent in their own language, would have a little order made of seaweed pinned to it and be awarded the title of hero.
"If sharks were men, there would, of course, also be art. There would be beautiful pictures in which the sharks' teeth would be portrayed in magnificent colours and their jaws as pure pleasure gardens, in which one could romp about splendidly. The theatres at the bottom of the sea would show heroic little fish swimming enthusiastically into the jaws of sharks, and the music would be so beautiful that to the accompaniment of its sounds, the orchestra leading the way, the little fish would stream dreamily into the sharks' jaws, lulled by the most agreeable thoughts.
"There would also be a religion if sharks were men. It would preach that little fish only really begin to live properly in the sharks' stomachs.
"Furthermore, if sharks were men, there would be an end to all little fish being equal, as is the case now. Some would be given important offices and be placed above the others. Those who were a little bigger would even be allowed to eat up the smaller ones. That would be altogether agreeable for the sharks, since they themselves would more often get bigger bites to eat. And the bigger little fish, occupying their posts, would ensure order among the little fish, become teachers, officers, engineers in box construction, etc.
"In short, if sharks were men, they would for the first time bring culture to the ocean."
Africa Africa Africa!
Oh the once mighty and heroic Africa
Why has thou grown so cold?
Why has thou remained thus numb?
A fremd is here in thy enclave
Battling thy home without mercy
And battering thy all in thy all
Before thy very eyes, oh Africa!
Thy peace is stolen
And fear injected in thy veins
With thy activities all at halt
All by same unwelcome visitor.
Thy hands are caged
And thy mouth silenced with mask
While thy children die in numbers
Before thy very eyes, oh Africa!
Hunger is dire in the land
Yet thy children are home and docked
For the fear of the fremd
And thou dost nothing.
Thou keepest quite, oh Africa!
In the midst of all these
Waiting for the Whites to solve thy puzzle
And the world to come to your rescue.
When hast thou grown lazy, Africa?
Where are thy ecumenic powers?
Where are thy roots and thy foods?
What happened to thy herbs?
Why art thou dependent on the Whites?
Why hope on them for solution?
Why look akimbo, oh Africa?
Can't solution come from thee?
Are thy bushes there in vain?
Thy creatures and powers to create
Africa, recall thy deeeds in the past
And mights and beauty in the days of old.
Arise, oh Africa, to save the world
For a fremd has trapped the earth
And the key with the earth remains
Arise oh Africa, and find ye the key.
Arise, Africa, Arise
Leverage thy powers and flowers
The world is waiting for your
Arise, oh Africa, arise
Pot of love,
Dot with life!
Spot of peace,
Hot like the sun;
Love Brewed In The African Pot!
My identity,
My continent,
My Country,
My land,
Love Brewed In The African Pot!
Mama Africa,
Africa! Africa!
My identity,
The Colour of my Skin,
The muse of life,
The muse of my mind,
Africa! Africa!
Cultures and Traditions,
My continent,
My Country,
My land,
My identity,
Love Brewed In The African Pot!
Mama Africa,
The continent of my birth,
With the muse of my mind to the world so sweet!
Poetry,
Way of life;
Presenting my works to the world,
From Africa!
Being an African,
Born and raised in Ghana,
My identity,
My life,
Love and art!
Love and life,
Peace and joy!
Mama Africa,
Africa! Africa!
Mama Africa,
Love Brewed In The African Pot!
With the fragrance of life and the romance of nature;
The beauty of creation,
The Harmony of life,
Mama Africa,
The Symphony of the truth!
With righteous morals;
Africa! Africa!
Mama Africa,
The colours of life,
With the aroma of creation;
Love Brewed In The African Pot!
The sun sought thy dim bed and brought forth light,
The sciences were sucklings at thy breast;
When all the world was young in pregnant night
Thy slaves toiled at thy monumental best.
Thou ancient treasure-land, thou modern prize,
New peoples marvel at thy pyramids!
The years roll on, thy sphinx of riddle eyes
Watches the mad world with immobile lids.
The Hebrews humbled them at Pharaoh's name.
Cradle of Power! Yet all things were in vain!
Honor and Glory, Arrogance and Fame!
They went. The darkness swallowed thee again.
Thou art the harlot, now thy time is done,
Of all the mighty nations of the sun.
No end of story has been told, several legends have been born; tiny runnels have wiped out into the Nile; massive water courses had gorged the Indian and the Atlantic.
Africa is the native land of all mankind species, our cherished fatherland is the continent of Africa; you are always welcome to Africa.
Jewels are found in the stain atop, pure beauty is found in our hearts; giving hope with full-blown vision.
For many people of the world, Africa is time and again seen through a spare monocle, purified curtain abodes of indigence, deprivation, illness, dearth, and blues.
Yes, we have our threat, it's true, but we are a people of physiques, resilience and faith; African elevation comes alive as a cloud nine.
Africa is a continent of countries, clans, of peoples; each with its olden days, its voice, its rainbows; its bounty of rituals, the diversity of its arts; and the charm of its civilization.
Africa is a nook of titanic conceivable of chow that is appetizing, fervent and sweet; Africa is not a spot of shadows, but a distance of light of a nightmare and opportunity; Africa is not a hole of pity, but a place of influence and self-respect.
We are the offshoot of a proud continent, Africa is where the sun steps up and bents with a scorching effulgence; making it a place where every day is a sunny season.
Dance, dance!
With the muse of Africa;
Tap, tap!
With the rhythm of Africa;
Moving your body and,
Moving your steps;
To the sounds and cultures of the various tribes in Africa.
Dance, dance!
To the rhythm of Africa;
Tap, tap!
With the movements of the muse of Africa;
To a continent of nature's muse,
To a continent of multi-languages,
To a continent full of colours!
Fron North, South, East and West;
Come to Africa and see things for yourselves.
Rhythm of Africa,
Rhythm of various customs and cultures,
Rhythm of the various countries in Africa,
Rhythm of the animals,
With the beauty of nature as seen around.
Dance, dance!
Dance with the steps and shake your body;
To the rhythm of Africa touching your heart and soul.
Tap, tap!
With the movements of the muse of Africa;
Rhythm of Africa!
With the muse of various races in Africa;
Expressing their cultures and customs to the muse of the rhythm of Africa.
I am sorry
I am sorry that I am seen as inferior
I am sorry that I walk around real loud and oh so proud.
I am sorry that I stand out,
I stand out because I am different
Uxolo bhuti for being myself
For standing up for myself,
For fighting for my rights
Uxolo bhuti for wearing a dress
For wearing something that you might define as revealing
I, as intombi find this dress appealing
Ke maswabi that your imagination ran wild and left you aroused
Your thoughts, your actions
Are you proud
Are you proud that you left my dignity dead and my spirit without a chance to rise
Tshwarelo mama afrika
Your children have no love for each other
Your children are dancing with knives just for clout
Ringing their neighbours necks just for selling bread at half price
Some of your children are crying without a voice
Some of your children are left with scars that are not seen, without choice
Asseblief ma
Ek weet jy is kwaad
I know it hurts to see the gifts that you gave us flow like the fluent Tanganyika and into the rich man's mouth
I know it hurts to see the spirit of Ubuntu replaced by the spirit of Izita
Asseblief ma, retshwarele
I know it hurts that you're beginning to rifts apart like modern day families disconnecting
You're ripping apart from small Djibouti, down to vibrant Maputo
We all see that
We live in a patriarchal society where we find ourselves apologizing for being female,
And where smashing makes you alpha male
We all smell
The gunpowder over all the Chlorofluorocarbon emissions
We all smell the iron in the blood of the victims
Mothers and Fathers
Sisters and Brothers
We miss their presence as we see them disappear
We miss the safety of our hometowns
We need not a teaser nor a knife to feel safe
All we cry for is change
Nothing more
Nothing less
Just change
Colonialism in its last moments is pushed to the centre stage -
the recoiling phenomenon intensely illuminated
by The Flame Of Liberty.
Roused by the prospect of emancipatory freedom,
from the shadows of Servitude, nations rise.
Their demand for a dawn long on hold
brings an end to the colonial yoke.
Her soul refreshed with a breath of new life,
Africa thrills at the sight of the expanding horizons -
an euphoria feelings that veiled 'Danger Signs'.
She's been bequeathed dreadful webs of intrigue:
Uneasy amalgams of multicultural colonial territories,
hitherto upheld through coercive mechanisms.
With price tags of 'patriots' hanging on won Liberty,
they bicker over the vacated Seat Of Power.
In their snobbery of honour in favour of greed,
strategic realignments of comrades produce
The Strongman: A tyrant - backed by 'jackals'
and supported by gullible public.
In a cruel twist of fate, hopeful assertion of self-rule
soon becomes the anticipation of a gaudy illusion.
The exit of Foreign Powers has delivered the people
into the grasps of Democratic Mobs:
Cabals fueled by putrid sludge of Kleptocracy,
devoid of political visions to transform into realities.
With no intent of restructuring imposed alien models,
cabals pursue joint criminal enterprises:
Good citizens are sieved out of the system,
party loyalists take over their place.
Key positions go to ruthless operators,
who translate decisions into actions.
Vast network of political jobbers across tribes are bought;
Political parties become private estates;
Police remains agent of The State;
Legislative bodies are subdued;
With the Judiciary effectively hijacked,
the oppressed has no where to seek redress.
Ultimately The Liberators Turn Into Oppressors.
Haven subverted Power Of The People
which has raised them to unfair dominion;
In frenzied torrents of greed without care,
Opportunistic Banditry is institutionalized.
In a matter of months raging economic crises follow.
And attempts to curb budget deficits upset lives,
sending an already violated citizenry
on a sad voyage into poverty.
In their scheme for hegemony, struggle credentials with
membership of the ruling party, are made the
prerequisites for political and economic ascendancy.
Their capitalist tendency reinvents imperialism.
With nepotism and sectionalism proclivity, parochial
appointments skewed towards specific groups are made.
Ethnic rivalry is promoted as one tribe is favoured above others.
Serious conflicts are provoked with diverse interest groups.
The Freedom Party once the pride of the nation
has turned public enemy number one.
With the powder keg too close to the naked flames,
BANG! It explodes. And the fire burns with a vengeance.
Turmoils of Democratic Anarchy usher in The Military:
Demagogues with perfect sets of iron teeth -
Whose stern miens wore the semblance of an undertaker.
They bait on sentiments of the masses to legitimize regime;
They promise to steer The Ship Of State
to berth on a safe harbour;
They pay lip service to their anti-corruption crusade.
They're the raiders of public treasuries!
They're the violators of Integrity Of The State!
They're the embodiments of rot!
Strategic alliance is built with oligarchs of crafty pretense.
The marriage of convenience symbiotic in its nature:
'You Rub My Back I'll Rub Yours.'
The wooed spiders, with a keen knowledge of the web
assume an oversight for the junta - reinforcing its hold
on power. Their administrative tasks keep the wheels
of government-owned enterprises turning,
thereby maintaining brazen squandering of resources.
In the quest for total control,
with the delusions that match their effronteries;
They unleash an assemblage of horrors:
Prison cells are packed with innocent citizens
picked on the flimsiest of excuses;
Rendition of dissidents tagged 'terrorists' becomes normal.
Curfews are enforced; Checkpoints are mounted;
Visible policing is achieved; With free speech punished,
displeasures are carefully altered in whispers; And
brutality is sold as pragmatic response to increased crime.
The cowardly populace petrified in its sullen expression,
in degrading submission blindly accepts Slavery.
Assets of nations are then plundered with impunity;
Ill-gotten moneys are laundered to different offshore heavens;
Treacherously, patrimonies are secretly being transferred
abroad, and governments turn around to ask for loans
on the very funds illicitly moved.
Post-colonial Africa is a continent marred with endemic conflicts;
Human Rights abuses of monumental proportions;
The entrenched lack of accountability within governments;
Shameful history of nationalized thefts by those in high places;
Quests for power at all costs - with Heads of States
holding on to power even when circumstances dictate otherwise.
Since Independence Africa has continued to stagnate
while the rest of the world have forged ahead.
But she ought to be thriving well!
She has an unrivaled wild life conducive to tourism;
Pristine ecosystem with endless stretches of fertile lands;
Rare incidences of natural disasters;
Resilient hardworking population;
Her prospects for hydroelectric supply is second to none.
She is hugely blessed with diverse mineral resources.
No other continent is endowed with as much!
Yet notoriously, Africa with such fortunes and potentials
relentlessly wallows in the throes of economic woes.
Don't let your heart stay broken
Do not stay fixated on what could have been
Focus on all that was deep
Be thankful you smiled
Be thankful you cried
And be thankful you loved and were loved
Because no magician is strong enough to conjure the magic you've created
So don't let your heart stay broke
Don't focus on the darkness
Or things that did not last
Don't look back at your pas
When your future is that bright..
Millions queued in lines before Arbiter Of Disputes.
Hopes were high,
Duty and resolve holding firm.
Hearts dance with spirit of Emancipation,
Each with ammo stronger than bullet,
Ready to dislodge a fiendish cabal out of Power.
All conscious of the long night of tribulation.
Singly, the weapons were discharged
Into The Receptacle Of Liberty;
Upon which they received baptisms of Freedom.
Inside the altar tugs of war ensued:
Invisible fibres bound and aligned aspirations.
Popular Will prevailed.
Bearing the scars of Apartheid,
Indigenous people celebrate the birth of Democracy.
Ballot Box had come at a great expense;
At all costs its sacredness shall be preserved.
Those were the surviving heroes and heroines of Mzansi.
Africa, Our Africa
Africa of Green and Black, of colors in between
Africa of people, of love and light, from within
Africa of ethnics and languages, of long told history
Africa of cultures and traditions, a rich tapestry.
Africa of strife and victory through colonial time
Africa of struggle through imperial crime
Africa of war, both tribal and civil
Africa of peace, condemning evil
Africa of hope, freedom and liberation
Africa of growth, of change and innovation
Africa of then: men, women - slaves to capture
Africa of now: men, women - reclaiming our valor!
Today's a great day to change a life. Starting with yours.
"One of the sayings in our country is Ubuntu - the essence of being human. Ubuntu speaks particularly about the fact that you can't exist as a human being in isolation. It speaks about our interconnectedness. You can't be human all by yourself, and when you have this quality - Ubuntu - you are known for your generosity. We think of ourselves far too frequently as just individuals, separated from one another, whereas you are connected and what you do affects the whole world. When you do well, it spreads out; it is for the whole of humanity."
What To Read Next?
The Power of Letting Go
When you let go, you live intuitively. You are no longer tied to things having to be a specific way, to being a certain person, or to always being correct, therefore everything flows. How nice it is. Ironically, when you feel stuck in any aspect of your life - be it relationships, work, finances, or health - you feel trapped. letting go can seem impossible - You cling on for dear life just when you need to take the leap.
I write what l like
I Write What I Like features the writing of Steve Biko, a well-known activist and leader of the Black Consciousness movement. He played a crucial role in uniting black Africans in the struggle against the apartheid government in South Africa until his untimely death at age 30.
The Thing Around Your Neck
A collection of twelve stories.
Private Experience: During a violent riot, a medical student finds shelter with a destitute Muslim woman, whose strong sense of dignity and faith compels her to confront the harsh realities and fears she has been avoiding.
The Thing Around Your Neck: We see a Nigerian girl experiencing intense loneliness after moving to America, a place that doesn't live up to her expectations. While love seems to offer some solace, a loss in her homeland forces her to reconsider her aspirations.
Tomorrow Is Too Far: A woman uncovers a tragic secret connected to her brother's death.
Imitation: A young mother is upset when she finds out her husband in Lagos has moved his girlfriend into their home, threatening her comfortable life.
Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie's storytelling prowess shines through in this collection, which is both searing and profound, brimming with beauty, sorrow, and longing.
Call and Response
Every tale astonishes with its melodies, warmth, and linguistic mastery.
African Stories
Doris Lessing, a 2007 Nobel Prize winner in Literature. This is her best collection of African Stories. It includes every story Doris Lessing has written about Africa - The Old Chief's Country; The four tales about Africa from Five; The African stories from The Habit of Loving and A Man and Two Women; and four stories featured only in this edition.