This and That

Of wrinkled babies and tender-faced mothers

Kaka would have done himself an immutable disservice if he goes around and comes back the same way he was in 2011 when I knew him as a crying baby, always storming our main newsroom at Ginnery Corner to complain about MBC not playing his music which begins and ends with Ine Ndi Bwana.

Good people, these pages are usually awash with tales of singers and makers of music.

We are hearing about one Kaka’s exodus from Lucius Banda’s Zembani Band to Skeffa Chimoto’s Real Sounds.

As was the case with Mlaka Maliro and Billy Kaunda before the turn of this millennium, the Lilongwe-based Kanthu Kalinda wants us to believe all is well between him and the Zembani boss whom he calls “my father” and “godfather of Malawian music”. Lucius himself points to a mutual agreement.

However, the truth is that half the truth has not being told—for ‘mutual agreement’ is a beautiful phrase that silently signals simmering trouble that you and I are not supposed to see, hear or dig.

But what does it matter? For now, one can only hope Kaka is not diving from a flying pan into red-hot flames.

There is only one shift that this world approves of—upwards.

Kaka would have done himself an immutable disservice if he goes around and comes back the same way he was in 2011 when I knew him as a crying baby, always storming our main newsroom at Ginnery Corner to complain about MBC not playing his music which begins and ends with Ine Ndi Bwana.

As usual, I asked to hold his cool convinced it would get its turn if it was worth the fuss. It did. Here and there. But the sad fact is that the artists did not building on the song’s arguable success. Instead he became a mere mimic, imitating Lucius, Mlaka, Billy Kaunda, Charles Nsaku, Black Missionaries Anjiru Fumulani and all the guys who have achieved what he does even attempt. He must move forward and upwards.

 

The canvas

Something is happening at Chancellor College which seems to confirm the institution’s standing as University of Malawi’s centre of liberal arts.

In keeping with the critical nature higher learning was conceived to nurture, Bachelor of Education sophomore Innocent Fabiano told another grim story of our nationhood not with a million letters or thousands of spoken words, but a few strokes of a paintbrush.

The Aged Baby and the Ageless Mother is the name of the new mirror of our pitiful state. It is said that a picture is worth a thousand words. Yes it is.

Imagine a baby with age wrinkled all over the face sitting on its visibly youthful mother’s lap with a breast between its 32 teeth. What a disgrace it is!

But that is the shameful story of dependence that is this country of ours which has gone into aid givers’ chronicles are a hugely impoverished, donor-dependent nation.

Yes we are a dependent people, except for corrupt hands that have been stealing thousands of billions since this country became independent almost 51 years ago.

But talking about independence and dependence in the tale of one nation is supposed to be an oxymoron. Sadly, this word does not exist in our numerous languages.

So, like Fabiano unravels, the donors are happy to be the gift that keeps giving for they taught us “bless is the hand that giveth.” But more blessed is the hand that works than the one that steals.

 

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