Of harvest and suicidal forgetfulness

  It is again harvest time and as usual, some Malawians are back to proving they have goldfish memories—they exhibit forgetfulness of the highest order. Look here, last week I visited a friend and all along the ghetto’s winding road to his shack, I saw men, women and children staggering under sacks of maize fresh…

Republicans, I first saw this surviving acoustic music dinosaur play some two decades ago in a tiny, congested space between Limbe’s market and Chibuku Tavern. By then, Limbe and surrounding areas were no strangers to ‘play for a coin’ artists of the then Gides’ type. Every day was awash with funnily dressed solo artists or…

A third successive day passed with none of us spotting Magobo around the ghetto. We were getting worried. His whereabouts were already the subject of the matter at that day’s rendezvous, the ghetto’s most popular barbershop. “Ameneyutu asakhale atagwidwa kubwalo la Mfumu,” joked Namate, a barber always well informed, even of the nitty-gritties from children’s…

  The sun eased into the yellow horizon, retiring from a long day of baking the life underneath it. My tasks in Blantyre were done and I was by Chileka Roundabout, lost in doubt after hours of waiting in vain for a lift to the Capital City. Everyone minded their own business, until there stopped…

  We all have stories. But not everyone tells theirs the same. Sometimes the ones that tell theirs better end up selling their perspectives as the best that ever happened. Kanteya is fairly old guy who is just as wonderful a book of stories as he is an adroit shoe maker. I love his perspective…

Falling is not a big deal, at least in a ghetto where many people walk around burdened by socioeconomic hardships. The world spins too fast for the ghetto dweller and something or someone falling is a daily occurrence. The Kwacha is always falling against other currencies. Companies have fallen and closed, leaving thousands jobless. Our…

We all make choices and, sometimes, we just must make them hard. Local hip hop’s big name Gwamba made his a few weeks ago. He sailed from the shores of ‘ordinary’ music to the gospel realm. And true to the largesse of the move, the gravel on which hip hop stands on caught a vibration.…

  Republicans, why do we usually think so lowly of ourselves to the detriment of our personal or national growth? Look here, if we are not begging for maize on the world stage, we are busy thinking of other nations as the ones with the prime hand in the development of our nation. I have…

This country is one funny pot where people walk and think with their tongues. You can watch them wander about life like excited ions, pouncing at gossip like a starving lion jumping at a tired gazelle. I don’t blame the people that much though. Perhaps they mostly have nothing better to do. You see, even…

  Like always, the minibus to my gutter home on Sunday was a platform for unending debate on topics based on cheap rumour, misunderstandings or impromptu signals. It so happened we passed a convoy of Nyasa Bullets faithful loaded in minibuses and tricycles, making a triumphant exit out of Lilongwe where they were officially crowned…

My neighbour surprises me. He is a middle aged party animal who can suck a lake dry. Fridays are for booze. Saturday mornings are for more booze and loud music while the afternoons are for beer sessions that spill on to Sunday. If there was a bottle big enough to accommodate him, he surely wouldn’t…

I am not surprised by the already ugly pushing and shoving for the Football Association of Malawi (FAM) presidential race. But not all candidates are as good they want us to be fooled they are. It is in the nature of most candidates to aim at something else in a position other than serving people.…

Times are hard in the country, and even harder in our gutters. I have, however, opted to earn clean. That is why I have been around town, trying to locate where to plant a carwash business. A carwash seems to be the hottest money spinner nowadays. If it were not, would scores and scores of…

  Esteemed Republicans, sometimes we unnecessarily allow ourselves to sink lower than we should. This I have concluded from an encounter with a birdbrain I ran into at the weekend. I had strolled out of my gutter tin-house, enduring the searing sun to pluck a few groceries from off a supermarket shelf more than a…

As a soul privileged to live under veil of the city skies, albeit deep in the gutter, I must cherish any good vibe about urban living. But look here Esteemed Republicans, our towns and cities are rotten and a far cry from the best that a city can pack. The best of efforts are needed…

Republicans, our nation glorifies mediocrity. Many of our endeavours run on sympathy and that’s where we lose it. Look here, instead of sweating it out, we use sympathy to offer less or nothing at all. For instance, come to think hard and long of how some fellow Republicans in our cities and towns have decided…