The BodyGuard

[Published in the Malawi News of 31 December 2011]

Andisen stood on the harbor on New Year’s Eve and watched the full moon dance on the lake, a light breeze coming off the water. He was at the dock for the first time in years. Novelty saturated many things but he was seeing it all again; a boat carrying four cabinet ministers had violently exploded. But as years progressed it had become apparent that the blast was no accident. Brutal assassination had occurred. Dissent was being eliminated that day by the regime of chief Asilo, the leader he was body-guarding at the harbor. The four ministers, Mauro, Amikhe, Awong’o and Vibula, who had refused to endorse a plan to let the chief’s son unconstitutionally take over after him were being assassinated. 

The bloodshed had sickened him and his revisit to the place caused a violent resurgence of it all. Andisen’s head throbbed nastily, but he forced himself to concentrate. After all that was the hub of his job; to remain focused even in strenuous situations. Even earlier on when Asilo had told him that the two should right away travel to the dock to meet a client, a thing awfully against security etiquette and extremely dangerous for a top leadership, he had maintained his poise. He had submissively taken the wheel of the private BMW, relieved though. Being a large sedan, it was the type suitable for that driver-bodyguard task. Possessing a low center of gravity and a powerful engine, the car he could also easily execute short-radius turns to change direction and high-speed cornering, Andisen was home. It also had ballistic glass, armor reinforcement, a foam-filled gas tank, an additional battery, dual foot-pedal control in case of incapacitation, inside fire extinguishers, a reinforced front and rear bumper, to shove offensive vehicles, and additional mirrors, for an improved field of vision. And when they had arrived he had asked for some minutes in which he had composedly checked for possible shooters, bombs and electronic ‘bugs’ on the harbor-house Asilo was to use, and a swift background-check of the client who transpired to be a concubine.

Finally, after some two hours the door opened. Andisen snapped to rigid attention, his SIG Sauer P229 pistol digging into his side. Asilo sauntered out and liberated a smile as he pushed past him to the edge of the port, the woman following him. The two sat down and dangled their toes in the water. Andisen feeling uneasy was not amused with that. Even Asilo knew how extremely compromised the security detail was by sitting in the open in a night with him alone providing the security. Moreover, the chief had so many enemies he had acquired over the years because of his persecutions of dissents as the four ministers, which was contrary when he had just begun.

Asilo was a darling to many in his first years, the time Nthache village was transformed into a haven. It was a time when good governance was pivotal. The time jobs were also found, food security increased, the education and health systems improved. The time people dubbed his leadership as foresighted, dynamic and visionary. 

Nevertheless, the same praises knocked sense out of him. He started to play god. He believed he had to think for all the people. Any freedom of thought or speech was brutally repressed. Nobody had a say in the matters of government. He could no longer brood the slightest opposition. His regime became of physical compulsion, prisons, censorship, intimidation, systematic purges and eliminations. Many productive people were wasted or fled into exile. It was a despotic regime full of blind praise singers and bootlickers who told him what he wanted to hear, a regime that used intensive propaganda to maintain people’s support. In the end developmental milestones that were achieved over the years plummeted. Food and drugs became scarce. Unemployment was rampant as companies’ closed shop in masses, corruption became widespread, and stinging poverty resulted, and also a horde of enemies.

That was why an hour later Andisen was relieved when the three left the dock. They reached a multi-store where he was ordered to stop. The woman wanted some food. Asilo wanted to escort her but Andisen was against it. The place was too crowded for him to effectively protect the chief. But Asilo insisted. Andisen grumblingly escorted him up to the door where he stopped and kept an eye on the car.

30 minutes later they were making their way back to the car. Andisen’s alert eyes spotted the M24 sniper rifle pointed at Asilo. It pained Andisen that he could get killed on New Year’s Eve over a thing that was fully avoidable. In a split-second he decided that Asilo should shoulder the burden alone. He made to move away from the line of fire but he slipped and his body tumbled between him and the chief. The bullet hit his shoulder. The would-be assassins bolted and Andisen was rushed to the hospital.

Five months later Andisen was out of the hospital, and chief Asilo unwillingly recommended for his promotion for his bravery. He knew by gaining a higher rank Andisen would no longer be within the ranks to be his bodyguard. But his courage needed recognition. Nevertheless, Andisen refused the promotion to the delight of Asilo and surprise of everybody. He refused to accept a promotion for bravery when he played none.    

The Wedding Cake Verse

[Published in the Malawi News of 24 December 2011]

By the time Mauro’s bullet riddled body was hitting the floor Miriam was on board a bus fleeing the country and Farook was furiously thinking of his next move.

Mauro, before meeting this gruesome fate, was a famous multitalented cake designer and baker the country over. He had started on a small scale though, occasionally designing wedding cakes for the middle class. Nevertheless, one day his friend, an inspector general of police’s chauffeur, negotiated for him to bake one of the wedding cakes for his boss’s son. Mauro saw the opportunity and seized it. He designed and baked a cake that stole the occasion, dwarfing all the cakes of designers of name at the wedding. His reputation rocketed; he never looked back thereon.

One evening Mauro received visitors: Farook and Miriam. They wanted him to design a cake for their wedding in three day’s time. Mauro had objected; he needed at least a week to come up with something substantial. But Farook had frantically pleaded and tripled the price leaving Mauro surprised. What Mauro did not know however, was that the two had met at a party five days earlier. Both were desperately looking for a marriage partner. Farook was frantic because his uncle, an opposition leader who had served the parties required constitutional terms, had earmarked him to be his successor at an impending convention in two months time. But Farook had one condition according to the party’s constitution he was yet to meet: marriage!

Farook had rushed to Ireen, his fiancée, but she had refused, insisting on finishing her college studies first in four months time. But Farook had no time. That was why when he had met Miriam and had accepted his proposal he had moved swiftly. He ended his affair with Irene and within days wedding preparations were underway. Nevertheless, many people advised Farook against the idea of marrying Miriam. But Farook would hear none of it.

You see Miriam was a girl on the loose. She slept with every man who came her way. Five times he had tried some married life but all had miserably crumbled. She was either chased out for being caught red handed pants down with other men or she would be the one leaving her husbands for other men.

But now at 32 and with her two siblings married, Miriam felt the pressure to settle down, but she only met suitors that were either not ready or were already committed. So when she had met Farook and had proposed she never hesitated.

Preparations were almost through. Their wedding promised to be a stunner. For the first time in the history of Chanazi Republic’s weddings the country’s most top five musicians were invited to spice up the occasion. Many prominent people were invited. It was also all over the radio and televisions stations. Rumour also had it that even the president would attend.

Mauro on his part did not even try his best but he did his best, as if his life depended on it. The cake he produced was just a smash. It was a cake that also had a Bible verse from Miriam inscribed on it. It was a verse meant to mock all those who opposed her marriage. Even Farook liked the idea. They had planned that the verse would be known to the reader at the very moment of reading.

The wedding day finally came. True to its billing, the wedding ceremony was simply a marvel; many people turned up, including the vice president. Both the church and the hall that were immaculately decorated were jam packed. The five bands played the best from their collections at the hall as they waited for the bride and groom.

At the church all went well. Vows were exchanged; passages were read, and all that stuff. Then with the hit ‘Ambuye Muwapatse Moyo’ playing in the background, the pastor had jubilantly announced that there was a special verse to be read. The reader, Farook’s eleven-year-old sister, had stood up, took a look at the wedding cake verse, opened her Bible and read.

For a moment the church went dead silent; then commotion! Shouting was all over. Miriam fainted. Some relations of Miriam rushed towards Mauro hurling insults at him.  Sympathizers whisked him away. So was the vice president. Farook was also heard angrily shouting, ‘I will deal with him!’ several times. The thing was 1 John 4:18, was the verse chosen, which reads ‘there is no fear in love; but perfect love casteth out fear: because fear hath torment. He that feareth is not made perfect in love’. But Mauro had mistakenly inscribed John 4:18 which reads ‘The fact is, you have had five husbands, and the man you now have is not your husband...’

That night Mauro’s house was broken into. He was shot several times from head to foot. Meanwhile Miriam was en route to South Africa to her young sister, fleeing the embarrassment. And the following morning Farook was arrested to answer murder charges.

Asilo giggled on hearing the news of the arrest. Since the wedding of the inspector general of police’s son, Mauro had pushed him to the peripheral of cake business. And when Farook had threatened to deal with Mauro he saw his opportunity. Now he had kicked him out of the way. It was back to business.

HUNTED

[Published Malawi News 1 October 2011]

Farook saw the makeshift roadblock in the night before anybody else in the battered Toyota pickup, as it snaked its way in the thick forest. He knew what that meant. Death! He clumsily hurried from where he sat, to the displeasure of the other passengers who hauled insults at him, and slammed the driver’s door. Breaks were startlingly rammed, forcing the beat-up vehicle to whine into an abrupt stop. Some passengers became airborne. There were frantic cries and shouts allover. Then the men at the roadblock also started to shout, ordering them to lie down.

But the people, more confused now, ran helter-skelter, except Farook who, with his portable traveling bag on his back, avoided the headlights and expertly ran for cover, his head held low. The attackers now started to shoot haphazardly, hitting some passengers. More screams followed. Farook lowered his body further but never broke his run. But unexpectedly he ran into a woman who forced him to briefly straighten up, and at that moment a bullet hit his Scapula. He felt paralyzing pain and suppressed a scream. And in a Sylvester Stallone style he threw himself to the ground, taking the woman with him. Shots whizzed over them. He quickly and skillfully crawled to a considerable distance before cautiously getting up and resuming his run. After zigzagging his way for minutes he slowed down to focus. But suddenly he felt the presence of someone, hot on his heels. He was about to tiptoe behind a tree when he saw the person; it was the woman.

“What do you want?” Farook irritably asked in a low tone.

“They’re shooting,” was all she managed in a startled shaky voice.

“Those people are after me…” Farook realizing his mistake quickly said, “Leave.”

The woman shrugged her shoulders. Farook felt his back getting wet with blood, and his shoulder was numb. He felt dizzy and resolved to deal with the woman later provided she behaved, to avoid delay. He dragged himself away.

“You’re in pain,” the woman said. Farook just trudged on.

“Why are those people after you?” not dissuaded, she changed the subject.

“It’s a long story,” Farook curtly said, clenching his teeth to control killing pain. He wished she knew his profession made him trusts nobody.

Farook had belonged to a gang behind a spate of bank and house robberies, and car hijackings rampant in cities and towns, operations executed with expertise and precision that left the police chasing shadows. One evening it had wanted to hijack a car. But as fate might have it the occupants in the car happened to be Farook’s fiancée and her friend. She was the woman Farook had dilly-dallied telling her his occupation.

In confusion, the two girls started to run away. Everybody hasted but Lino, leader of the group, did not. He swiftly hoisted his gun ignoring Farook’s desperate shouts of ‘No’. The gun coughed twice and the girls were dead before their bodies had hit the ground. Farook was devastated and incensed, but in the most he felt betrayed. The girls’ actions might have rendered them threats, but everybody knew one of them was his fiancée. Lino should have tried other means to have them stopped. And if the other members did not restrain him that day, he would have skinned Lino alive. After his fiancée’s burial Farook resigned from the group, vowing revenge, and was immediately on the run: nobody had left the group before and lived.

They walked quietly, intently listening for possible danger; tactically moving against the wind, which minimized their chance of betraying themselves to wild animals through their smells or sounds. 

“What’s your name?” Farook, desperate and pale, broke the silence.

“Irene,”

“Do you know how to dress a wound?”

“Not much,”

“I’ll show you. With an object embedded in you bandage it to control bleeding without pressing the object in, and minimize infection,” he instructed, showing her how to do it. Within minutes it was dressed using Farook’s vest, though not expertly as he might have wanted, but still he felt better. Later they slept. The sun rose finding them still sleeping. Irene woke up and strayed into the jungle.

The distressed cry woke up Farook with a start. He instantly ran towards it and found Irene pale skinned, consciously impaired and in pain. He instantly knew it was food poisoning. He quickly perused the vicinity and saw what he wanted: charcoal pieces, which were a good base as milk or salt. He swiftly collected and crushed them into powder and quickly mixed them with water from his drinking bottle and forced Irene to drink. Within seconds she was vomiting like hell. Minutes later she normalized, and an hour later they were off again.

“Why were those people after you?” Irene insisted. Farook feeling really weak felt irritated by her resolve. But he knew he needed her now more than before to make it to assistance. He had to buy her cooperation but he felt drained to cook up any story. He just told her a patched up ordeal.

“Why don’t you go to the police?” Irene asked, taking Farook by surprise. “You can be government’s chief witness in the case. You might be pardoned or be given a lighter sentence.”

Farook faintly nodded an agreement for convenience’s sake. All he wanted was death to the group for heartlessly slaughtering his fiancée.

“First let’s get help,” Irene said, tenderly getting hold of Farook’s hand. They together marched, marched into the future; different futures.

To Stella Ashnermath Tembo

   This lass is so fabulous

   I delight to write about,

   A stunning fond flower

Called Stella Ashnermath Tembo,

   A bright morning rose

   Very mild as a dove

   Or a calm stream that flows

   Very kind and of zeal

   So packed with thrill

   As a fair flowery hill

   Of lovely fragrance

   Of sweet romance

   So perfectly wrought

   A genius in thought

   That a lot ought to be sought

   So as one has to get

   So modest and so bright

As this Stella Ashnermath Tembo,

   A dazzling morning rose  

   Very mild as a dove

   Or a calm stream that flows

   Full of passion and help

   Of much good and hope

   A strong pillar and rope

   So cheerful, so beautiful

   So respectful, so dutiful

   And her word and doing,

   In one and everything

    So very much reaching

   That I can so delight,

    Or sacrifice to write

Of this Stella Ashnermath Tembo,

    The dazzling morning rose

    Very mild as a dove

    Or a calm stream that flows

the new cabinet, effective 6 september 2011

The new cabinet list:

State President – Commander in chief Army and Police, Statutory Corporations, Civil Service Administration, National Relief andDisaster Management.
The First Lady – National Coordinator, Maternal Infant and Child Health, HIV/Nutrition/Malaria and tuberculosis.
Ministers:
Nicholas Harry Dausi – Deputy Minister in the office of the president.
Prof Arthur Peter Mutharika – Foreign Affairs
Kondwani Nakhumwa Deputy Foreign Affairs
Dr. Goodall Gondwe – Natural Resourses Energy and environment
Vera Faramenga chilewani Deputy
Dr George Chaponda Min. Education
Otria Moyo Jere Deputy higher education
Victor Sajeni Deputy Primary & secondary
Dr. Ken Lipenga Minister of Finance and Development Planning
DR. Cornelius Mwalwanda Deputy
Prof.Peter Mwanza Minister of Agriculture,Irrigation and Water Development
Margaret Roka Mauwa Deputy
Kingsley Sostins Namakhwa Deputy
Ephriam Mganda Chiume Minister of Justice and Constitutional Affairs
Mahommed Sidik Mia Minister of Transport and Public Infrastrusture
Catherine Gotani Hara Deputy
Henry Mussa Minister of Local Government and Rural Development
Chimango Chiipimpha Mughogho Deputy
Patricia Kaliati Minister of Information and Civic Education
John Bande Industry & trade
Yunus Mussa Lands Housing & Urban Development
Rev Christopher Ngwira Deputy
Aaron Sangala Home Affairs & National Defence
Reen Kachere Min Gender, Child and Community Dev.
Nasrin Pillane Deputy
Daniel Liwimbi Tourism, Wildlife and Culture
Dr. Lucious Kanyumba Min Labour
Symon Vuwa Kaunda Min. of Youth Dev & Welfare
Dr Jean Kalilani Min of Health
Ralph Jooma Deputy

MEMOIRS

{for Patrick Chimwendo who died on 27 May

and  buried on 28 May 1998, and the others}

      I still remember, being a member of the campus, 

      sitting down in your Biology class

      as you taught us in your friendly manner

      together with the betraying Judas’

      whose rancor we endured and resented

      as they persecuted and pursed us blood.

  

      and some we have lost along the way

      as some we still have, and value what they say

      and those friends we lost cheer us to hang on

      as do all these lovely friends not yet gone,

      who make us not to forget that past of trials and care,

      that past, where

  

      I still remember, being a brokenhearted member

      the solemn hymns we sadly sang

      and the somberly mood that hung

      at your unforgettable funeral, as hot bitter tears

      freely flowed on our little cheeks; real bitter tears,

      as our hearts were engulfed in deepened sorrow;

      with our muffled coughs that could only follow

      the wails, rolls, howls, bowls and growls

      of relatives and friends, and even those fiends

      which all testified, justified, magnified, quantified,

      and qualified that

      a friend, a father, an uncle, a brother, a husband, a cousin

      a citizen, a breadwinner was lost.

 

      all that and rest, shaped this, our future we all

      hoped for and now hold until we shade less tears for

      the shared laughter and lighter moments with the friends

      we still have, and even some of those fiends

      you gladly taught in your friendly manner.

 

Fare Thee Well

   Fare thee well my khaki shirt, I would christen ‘my fair lady’.

   We have together seen the shores and sands of Sun and Sand,

   And of Boa-Zulu Beach, and of Club Makokola, and many a land

   Of the lake. We have together inhaled the notorious dusts of

   Spectacular Lilongwe, the elegant capital, when we went to scoff

   The naughty parliamentarians: oh yes, fare thee well my fair lady.

   We have together breathed the cool zephyrs of Zomba Mountain,

   Hovering and towering in majesty at the centre of the old capital.

   Together we have viewed Mount Mulanje’s Cedars, stunning and tall,

   And even the extraordinary and lovely Shire Valley, down south.

   My fair lady of them all, I do not want to let go, but I have to let go,

   Knowing the time has come for me to do so, and above them all

   The right time to write you a bright verse at a time I were to write

   You a dark verse, for I appreciate and celebrate your life in my life.

   Yes, fare thee well my fair lady of all; it has been such a long way

   We have come, both at home and away in roam in each given day.

   The sun would sometimes rise fairly for both you, my fair lady, and I.

   At others it would show only for you: at others only for me in the sky.

   And as the sun traveled above us, our expedition seemed obvious

   But you know as much as I know that it was not such a simple case.

   Yes, together we have gasped notorious dusts, endured coldness and

   hotness; supped beautiful beaches, superb statues and monuments,

   savored the striking  Shire River, and startling hills, valleys and planes.

   For all these, I say fare thee well; yes, fare thee well my fair lady.

The Present Hill

  We all stand upon the present hill

        And wander away to tomorrow

   Wishing we strode the richness furrow

  We all stand upon the present hill

        And touch distant worlds of no scarcities

  As we crunch our present anxieties

  We all stand upon the present hill

        And lick dream that luxury served thought

  Inveighing the scantiness servitude slot

 We all stand upon the present hill

        And taste, lick and munch tomorrow wishes

 As we float to the unrealized riches

 We all stand upon the present hill

        And soar, knowing there some shall not reach

               Or would realize with a killed wish

          

               But standing upon the present hill

                         –toiling and dreaming–

               We know the both of ourselves, as we feel

               The world there and here, the present hill

Elections

Elections yield

idiosyncratic bloodthirsty gods, demons, lemons, liars, and fleas

full of prayers

that most are just tricks in twists and turns

of emptiness

that only aim to veil the roughness of these roughnecks

who are full of vagueness and vanities;

The real vampires,

plunged, swimming and sinking in stinking Politics swarmed with fanatics, irks

and licks, and deceits, and idioms, and schisms, and dreams, and victims

  

and

Isms

said from wide wild mouths,

ironically by these crooks of looks and books, but of deaf ears,

buoyed by juju and

self-seeking self-seekers and bootlickers, and

the rest, trampling down

the colors of truth, an

anxieties and anger

–ticking time

                 

and

sudden overnight gods

Beautiful Majete Game Reserve

   Come over to Majete and watch the sunset

               over some verdure luxuriance hilltops,

               watched from some bravura sunlit spot,

               a spectacular and stunning situate

               full of fascinating flora and fauna scenes.

               Come over to Majete and watch

               the dazzling and famous Kapichira falls,

               as it intriguingly and grandly falls and flows  

               into some fascinating cultured village below;

               a majestic plot that is fire-spot lit at night.

               Come over to Majete and lie down under the stars

               and watch them brilliantly sparkle and twinkle;

               and at other nights also watch the moon spangle,

               sparkling down, beautifully and with brilliance

               as you listen to traditional songs of thrill ambiance.

               Come over to Majete and sigh with wonderment

               as you, savor stars, and sunrises and sunsets;

               and watch the many other beautiful natured scenes,

               mingled with beautiful man-made cultured scenes.

Branham Teachings an overview

It is very difficult to deny the miracles that took place in his ministry. There are still many people alive that were witnesses and that experienced God's grace through his ministry.

Some examples of God's amazing love on display were a young lady who was blind that did not even have eyes in her sockets and before witnesses through the prayer of William Branham eyes were created in her sockets for her. In Mexico City a mother who had her baby die went to a doctor and the baby was pronounced dead. The mother walked out and went to the meetings that were held by the Branham campaign. She did all she could to get her baby to be prayed for and she finally prevailed. William Branham prayed and the baby was restored to life. Another instance is a man was in a service and he collapsed and died. His wife was a nurse and she felt for his pulse and he was dead. Branham came and felt his pulse and asked for everyone to be calm. He prayed and ask God to restore the man's life and immediately he came back to life. I could literally go on and on about the miracles God performed.

Many people agree that he was sent by God to pray for the sick, but later in his ministry he was called by God to teach the scriptures. When he began to do this he taught things that many people did not agree with. Especially those within the framework of the Pentecostal and Charismatic denominations of the day. As William Branham began to teach that God is one person not three, that baptism should be administered in the name of Jesus Christ, predestination, serpent's seed and various other scriptural teachings people began to reject him. If they didn't reject they would spread the idea that "when he is under the anointing he's a prophet, but when he is teaching he is not."

The very word prophet implies that the word of God comes to and through him. Certainly, William Branham had a strange way of speaking as he was an uneducated man. Many believers stumble at the fact that he is not a polished speaker, but when Peter and John spoke to the Sanhedrin Council in Jerusalem they said we perceive that these men are "ignorant and unlearned." They didn't talk like the rest of the rabbi's in town who had their words all right and their speeches perfected by years of theological study. They simply presented the truth in their own backwoods Galilean way. William Branham did the same thing, he received a revelation from God, he went back to the bible to verify that it was scriptural and he taught it from the bible.

I adjure anyone reading this article. Please, don't take what everyone else is saying about William Branham out there on the internet. Listen to what he has to say and go back to the bible to see if these things are so. Don't ask a theologian and don't consult a theological book. Go back to the bible and pray over it. Ask the Holy Spirit to reveal the truth of

An Application Submitted to OXfarm as a Programme Coordinator [22 April 2008]

Having read the underlying dimensions, key responsibilities, skills and competencies for the vacancy of programme officer in your organization, I am convinced that I am the rightful candidate because of the reasons stated below.

To begin with, the importance of an integrated-approach in development progammes by all partners needs no special emphasis to me. I credited the significance in the courses I studied and the numerous researches I did during my four-year study. Through courses such as Local Government and Public Sector Reform, I was equipped with the relevant information to acknowledge the importance. For instance, among other things, I came to know how development projects end up in patches when development partners pursue a disjointed-approach, because it leads to a duplication of individual partner projects. I also discovered the problem of lack of sustainability of projects when recipients are not involved in their identification, implementation and evaluation, because of compromised sense of ownership.

All this, cupped with the lengthy research exercises I carried out in rural communities for my assignments, especially the one I did in my final year in the Zomba-Likangala Constituency for a project paper entitled Decentralization and Community Development in Malawi: a Critical Assessment of MASAF and for my dissertation entitled Democracy and Development in Malawi: the Impacts of Patrimonialism,  I know that I am well exposed to  the insight on how to tackle issues of rural poverty and improving livelihoods.

Now, a smooth external transaction of programmes certainly needs internal team-work, an area I am also well equipped to effectively deliver. Thoroughly outfitted through courses such as Interpersonal Dynamics and Organizational Communication and Organizational Behavior I know that I am an asset. I ably demonstrated this by satisfactorily meeting my targets when I worked for the Standard Bank in the project: Know Your Customer and Money Laundering Control, a project that literally needed team effort to succeed. Through necessary consultations from my advisors and other staff members, opportunities for improvements were discovered; problem areas were unveiled and brought forward for remedial action. This was possible by, among others, providing regular reports and updates, providing suggestions, and actively participating in the meetings on the development of the project.

However, of paramount importance is that only health people carry out development programmes, hence the relevance of issues of HIV and AIDS. I believe I have the necessary technical-know-how to tackle this issue as well. How so? Through courses such as Organizational Psychology and Organizational Change and Health Psychology I was well supplied with the facts about HIV and AIDS. Not only that. With the information I got from the Life Skills and Why Wait Seminars I attended at Chancellor College, and from the literature I read for my paper entitled The Importance of VCT in the Fight against HIV and AIDS, I know that I have the required potency not to disappoint. Through these exercises, for instance, I now know how HIV and AIDS has undermined and still undermines the development and resources gains formerly made in human and social development fields like life expectancy, health and education. But of particular importance was the discovery that women blatantly suffer more from the effects of the pandemic. For instance, because of the over-dependence of women on men economically, dying husbands live poor and destitute women who are driven towards high risk, unprotected sex activities where there are no viable economic activities. Often girls have also been forced out of school when it came to choosing educating between a boy-child and a girl-child because customarily boys are regarded as future bread-winners.

This brings the issue of gender, empowerment and rights squarely into the veins of development components. On this I also have the needed knowledge. I learned in great detail about gender and feminism, women empowerment, human rights, and property and user rights in courses like Political Science, hence I can ably handle these gender, empowerment and rights issues.

Furthermore, I have a result-minded approach to every work I do. This has made me to willingly work beyond working hours. I also have sound analytical and theoretical skills, initiative for sound judgment, an open-minded perception of things, non-directive styles of working, ability to work largely unsupervised, ability to work plans independently, and ability to bring needful changes. I demonstrated this when I worked as a teacher at Mount Olive Private Schools (2001), at the Blantyre City Assembly, as an Assistant Human Resources Manager (January-March: 2004 and 2005), as supervisor for the researches for Dr Kazembe of Chancellor College (November, 2004) and Mr. Tchereni of the Polytechnic (March, 2008), and for the Standard Bank (June-December, 2007). Having also been drilled in skills of communication, listening, presentation, budgeting, and change initiatives through courses like Language for Communication and Organizational Psychology Organizational Change, I have been able and still do show willingness to cooperate with and mobilize a wide variety of people, excellence in listening, presentation and negotiation skills, and also emotional stability, sensitivity and patience. I showed all these in various responsibilities I was entrusted with. For example, I competently demonstrated these when I was a Kanjedza Hall of Residence representative (2005-2006). In 2006 I was also chosen to represent and negotiate for 162 students who did not receive their book and stationery allowance for failing to fulfill certain conditions.

All these qualities and skills are in addition to my personal attributes of being a hard-worker, self-disciplined, self-motivated, fast-learner, self-starter, a passion for traveling, and commitment to the task at hand.

My articles have also appeared on the My Turn and Bwalo columns in the Nation and Weekend Nation newspapers respectively. These and the many assignment papers I wrote and presented during my study just show how ably I am in the writing skills. Lastly, I am a person of natural sense of humor, a thing that has enabled me to see humor not by appointment.

With these sentiments I believe I am that rightful candidate you are looking for. The referees mentioned on the curriculum vitae can testify of me.  

Bringing Sanity on Anarchy

[2007]

People are lamenting that it appears from the recent furor inside and outside Parliament that political heavies, especially the opposition, are underestimating the damage being done to the fabric of democracy and development in the country.

But more often than not problems have failed to be resolved when root causes are ignored. So is the same with the current situation in the country.  The dumping by Dr Mutharika of the UDF, the party that ushered him into power, coupled with the mass exodus of opposition MPs to join the DPP, was the tipping point. That an unexpected twist left real bruised egos. All these yearly orgy impasses in Parliament, the unrelenting scathing accusations and counter-accusations, scaremongering, among others, going on, are a vindication of frustrated expectations, hence talks, if any, have to solve this first or else unsatisfied egos will continue to haunt the nation.

Some have rightly put it that our political floor must not be a forum for settling personal grudges. As much as that holds true, what these commentators seem to forget is that there is no free lunch in politics as well. Dr. Muluzi and the UDF had, and rightly so, the hope of benefiting in one way or another when they were helping the incumbent to ascend to power, which makes the saga somehow not that personal. That is why critics should tone down a little bit and become not too surprised that a highly charged opposition, the UDF in particular, should push its limits or even go crazy in its endeavors.

This, in no way, is to suggest that the egomania satisfying-maneuverings that some overzealous politicians are reflecting must be condoned, but the thing that most pundits seem not to consider is that in almost all the countries where former heads of state are in honorary retirements, the ones they helped to be in power did not unceremoniously dump them. It is such sanguine interpretation that will makes think-tanks to concentrate where the nation slipped, and not where it is laying now.

Others have argued that passions must give way to rationality for this nation to push forward with democracy and development.

Perhaps they have a point.

[But it must be known that not all people think rationally as we might want them to do in crises. Rational thinking depends on some factors, one of which is the environment one is in. If people were to think rationally in crises as we might want them to, then we would not have the cases of rape, domestic violence, and HIV and AIDS on the increase despite all the vigorous campaigns to stop them.]

What should be said then? Although Malawi is in an elusive situation the wild donkey can be mounted and brought to rest. We were all present when descent began into hell; which puts us all at an advantage to treat the illness and not the symptoms.

Now let us quit the thundering proclamations and encourage the two ‘warring’ sides to talk like fallible mortals; both are in the wrong and have both orchestrated the current crisis.

What both sides need to be encouraged to do is to join hands in creating a conducive environment for talks by lowering the voice, reducing violent speech and violent action. The environment to be encouraged should be where each side feels safe not to be short changed or threatened in any way if it plays the wiser. In this environment the ruling side should not fear that it would be brought down to heel through impeachment or Section 65 if it flexes the muscle. Nor should the opposition be witch-hunted, vilified by brunt apolitical propaganda; it should be the environment where the machinery of government is not used to whip the opposition into ‘kneelogy’, or else the weakling will wait for heavy ‘to go to sleep’, which is in Parliament, and launch a sniper attack.

Let all concerned parties, therefore, sober up, look at what is really wrong, how it can be solved, and how to avoid it recurring in future. There and then can we ably talk of moving away from the frontiers of the near anarchy we are in.

Agatha, fair and gentle

   Agatha, very fair and gentle lady you were

   who always wore a smile, so gentle and fair,

   although you wrestled with dearth pangs

   and grappled with death’s murky fangs.

  

   Agatha, very fair and gentle, missed by all

   she reached; amorous woman, we all cry for.

   Agatha, fair and gentle, whose passing on

   we disbelieved, that which, we still moan.

  

   Agatha, fair and gentle, whose virtue still flows;

   the virtue that still reaches many as it still glows.

  

   Agatha, you left as if in a dream you must know,

   that we feel one day you may appear at the door.

  

   Oh, Agatha, fair and gentle, we greatly miss you

   in each and in every episode we go through.