Sunday, November 23, 2014

Rights and responsibilities to be stupid!


The right to be stupid, 
the privilege to make mistakes,
is inextricably bound to the duty to learn from it,
the responsibility to grow from them,

you cannot claim the right,
and disown the responsibility,
you cannot embrace the privilege,
and reject the duty,

Be wise!

Brussels © November 2014 afesehngwaHilary



Saturday, November 22, 2014

Only six chances to say 'NO'

http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/f/f1/JustSayYeslogo.png

Grandma coming from a totally different generation,
Could not understand what granddaughter was waiting for,
Not sure how she settled on that number but the expectation,
Was that Nchonwie was allowed only six chances to say No,
After that it didn't matter who came next it had to be Yes.

As Nchonwie explained the technicalities,
Of how she is waiting for Mr right,
Grandma lost her patience and rained a scathing yet loving rebuke,
Having been paying more attention than Nchonwie ever cared to notice,
Remembering all those times she watched her coil in bed and cry,
Grandma explained how caution can become an ugly maid courted by incapacity,
Opining on how she thought Nchonwie cautioned herself,
Into lonely beds,
Crying lonely tears,
And hugging pillows and teddy bears,
For timelines which threaten eternity.

Brussels © November 2014 afesehngwaHilary

Friday, November 21, 2014

Great Oaks from little acorns grow!



Their eyes were locked in steely gaze,
That briefly froze the blood in his veins,
His heart was pounding within his chest,
So the blood could reach his brains with food,
His pituitary dropped a cocktail of confusing hormones,
As he struggled to decide what to do,

She broke the contact in their gaze,
Helplessly dainty she walked away,
Almost towards the guy but yet not,
Almost completely aloof,
But interested enough in her demeanor,
To hold the mystery in the air,

Then as she passed him by with lips pursed,
And then loosened into a charmingly magnetic smile,
One which lit the air in that southern wing,
Plucking memories from the past,
And painfully displaying them before him,

With a sigh which burned as it eased into the pleasant air of spring,
He remembered how he had called her wicked and the vilest names,
Dismissing her for being no good,
And then now she really walks away in effortless grace,
Escorted to the waiting Limousine,

The poor guy stood there planted,
Unable to move left or right,
Not an inch forward or backwards,
Gazing left him dazed,
Wishing he could right a past now irrevocably gone,
Whispering to himself,
Indeed great oaks from little acorns do grow,
Train your vision to be good to the small ugly looking seed.


Brussels © November 2014 afesehngwaHilary

Thursday, November 20, 2014

Ode to a dead mouse!




Near perfect summer school day,
Everyday could be this way,
Great weather, volleyball, football,
Wonderful company to crown it all,

Right through I kept thinking of all of you,
More than anybody else I prayed for you,
Critical to my sample size and statistical power,
So as soon as I took a refreshing shower,

To get news of you I checked my mails,
Frantically scanned through my sea of emails,
My heart sank with the weight of lead,
To read those heartbreaking words that you were dead,

Though knocked by this umpteenth dose you were cooperative and very nice,
Closed my eyes and could spot you among all the other mice,
No doubt I had surprisingly gotten fond of you over the weeks,
I'll miss you in the next few weeks,

As the study winds through this tortuous bend,
I know you were integral part of the means to an important end,
Sadly you go with a lot of essential information,
Wish there was now a better means of communication,

I have thought about the resurrection of the dead,
To retrieve all that neuro-toxicological information in your head,
The Parkinsonian information in your steps,
I sent you to the doctors for an autopsy,
Cause of death came from one particular biopsy,

What a tragedy for this experiment,
The study will only know detriment,
Adieu dear friend...
Adieu with a heavy heart I wish... I wish... I wish... 
I wish you wouldn't die with all that information in you.

Brussels © November 2014 afesehngwaHilary

Wednesday, November 19, 2014

mydressmychoice


In the perfect world with an utopia of freedom, people will be totally free to do and say whatsoever they please, however they choose and with whomsoever they pick. Unfortunately that world is a far cry from our extant reality and the practicalities of living in such are mind boggling and tortuously complex to say the least. We share the world with over 7 billion people, of differing and different births, influences, upbringing, religious affiliations, educational standing, social status, philosophies and beliefs. This almost overwhelming storm of such a rich variety and diversity makes the aforementioned free world impractical. However there is a kinder and more practical freedom which allows everybody to be free as long as their freedom robs no other person of their own right and ability to exercise the same. I argue that it is towards this latter form of freedom that the the evolution of man as a societal and communal being out to gravitate. Of course there are  and will be extreme outliers.

Even though history undenyingly attests to the fact that humanity in relative terms has disproportionately been discriminatory and unkind towards allowing the full and wholesome development of womankind, it is also an undeniable fact that despite the 7 billion strong differences, there are some values of intrinsic humanity which lace the majority of these differences and bring most to common ground. It is wrong for example steal or to engage in a random, senseless act of genocide. Recently in Kenya there are reports that mobs have stripped more than one woman for being inappropriately dressed, a move which has sparked the "mydressmychoice" campaign. http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2014/11/18/kenya-mob-strips-woman_n_6177608.html

 I need to say here that this is not unique to Kenya. Naturally this begs the question... who has been vested with powers to determine and declare what 'appropriate dressing' is and means? How does further body exposure resulting from stripping resolve or make appropriate the dressing called to question?

Unfortunate incidences like this speak to a bigger problem which runs across the full gamut of the strata of the societies where they are perpetrated, from the hamlets in the village to the presidency. It is pointer to jungle tendencies where the rule of law is a paper tiger. Martin Luther King Jr. said “Morality cannot be legislated, but behavior can be regulated. Judicial decrees may not change the heart, but they can restrain the heartless.” It was Aesop who said that "We hang the petty thieves and appoint the great ones to public office." In stead of stripping women maybe such an idle mob should be stripping bare those bandits who seem appropriately dressed yet are inappropriately ruling and plundering the wealth of their nations... There needs to be structures in place with punitive measures deterrent enough to eliminate or significantly reduce such chaotic and mindless behavior couched in hypocrisy, intolerance, spinelessness and lovelessness. 
In the case of Kenya I am certain that if one of those girls who was stripped for dressing inappropriately was the daughter of some military general or police chief, minister or president, the heads of the perpetrators will be rolling now. 

Personally I believe that there needs to be a certain manner of dressing when we are in shared public space. There are a lot of companies and jobs which require a dress code for both men and women and I am yet to see a protest about any - you either choose to comply or leave. This can be done right and respectfully, leaving people a choice to exercise freedom as long it doesn't usurp another's. This is a really tricky one. It looks okay for example to be in bikini at the swimming pool or beach which is shared public space but not in the office space.


In many cases agreed societal mores which is sometimes terribly flawed dictates that when we step out of the house into most shared public spaces some things are no longer okay, like running around naked, to use an egregiously dramatic example.... but hey, what do I know? What makes what okay at home or beyond that homely space is shaped by the cultural mores of the time, religious beliefs, upbringing, personal values, the number of scars and skeletons waiting to be hidden and levels of comfort with differing layers of cosmetic masks conjured to accomplish that public space persona or version of ourselves. The arc of the moral universe is still long and it still bends towards justice. 

Brussels © November 2014 afesehngwaHilary

Tuesday, November 18, 2014

Do not wash your hands with spittle!


I can give you wings,
But I can't fly for you,
Give you an appetite,
And provide the food,
But can't eat for you,
Give you opportunity,
But you have to seize it,
Make grace and strength available,
But you have to tap into it,
Offer you love,
But you must accept it,
Give you life,
But you must live it,
Give you a vision,
But you must heed it,
Take you to the stream,
But you must drink,
Or else you live in all you ever need,
Yet direly be in want and need,
And that my child,
Is the greatest tragedy of our time.

Do not live by the seaside,
And wash your hands with spittle!

Brussels © November 2014 afesehngwaHilary

Monday, November 17, 2014

Socialized to be lost in masks of perfection!





Socialized to wear masks,
One, two, three multi-layered masks,
Many, varied, colored and bland,
Socialized to always look sanitized,
Prudish and prim and smooth and perfect,
Socialized to always make life seem and look cinch,
And the toughest challenges like an ever welcome breezes,
Who are you?
Who are you today?
Who stepped out of the closet today?

In trying so hard to hide,
Hide that little crazy part of you,
Hide chinks and mistakes and scars,
That imperfect side of you,
In trying so hard to  hide that which completes who you are,
You have hidden all of you,
All of who you really are,
You don’t exist,
The real you is gone, gone, forever hidden,
You are lost,
Lost, lost, lost,
In that ugly mask of  perfection you wear,
So blame nobody for misunderstanding you,
For not knowing you,
For being incapable of relating to you,
Seek perfection but be you!

Brussels © November 2014 afesehngwaHilary