es taa

Maisha si mashindano

Maisha si malumbano

Maisha si majibishano

Kuwa halisi.

Two days ago, my brother and I went to a park here in Arizona. I had such a wonderful time. Back home in Dar, I would go to the beach to reflect and relax. When I was younger and when we lived near the Indian Ocean, I would walk with my pen and notebook, lay down on my kanga and listen to the ocean waves pulling me into the truth of Christ’s love for me. As I sat there with Timo, I kept thinking how it was hard to believe that this place exists in this desert land. It is the most serene place.

I have had a few difficult days recently. And for some reason, I felt far from heaven. But I am so glad we went to that park. I couldn’t stop praising God for his wondrous love. Everything around me spoke volumes concerning this love. Even the blue sky, oh my, the blue sky. Have you ever wondered how it would be if the sky was say purple? I am impressed by my God, I am. I can imagine but in his infinite wisdom, God chose to paint the sky blue. It is known that blue has a soothing effect and guess what color you see every single day up in the sky? Isn’t that just amazing? Even photos on Instagram look amazing with that blue background (laughter). Everything is in order, Everything is in its right place.

When a poem is in the process of birthing, it is a time of kicking a screaming for the poet. But a time comes when the poet must birth the poem. He has no power to withhold any longer. Even if he tries, it comes out when he laughs, and cries, and speaks, and eat. The poem simply comes out.

When the poet accepts this birthing and comes to a realization of the changing season, it is a time for all to rejoice from the labour of the poet. His endurance and perseverance in secret brings forth a good yield in the light. The poet labours not by his own will, but through the will of the poem. And he labours not entirely for his own pleasure but for that which the poem is yet to accomplish. To heal, to teach, to guide, to be a light.

And once one poem is birthed, look... It begins again. Back into the cave goes the poet. Until another season of birthing. It begins again.

#whatireadthisweek

There are many cases of people being found with weird things at the airport in Dar es Salaam. And when I say weird I mean ants, lizards, lion claws and teeth, items that are categorized as government trophies. I find it hard to image how one can carry monitor lizards (kenge) that are alive ignoring the fact that someone between Dar and where they are going would ask of what is in there. As this is becoming common, an incident made headlines this week that I still cannot get my mind around it. A man was arrested at the airport with a human skull.

Well, it happened. Reported in Mwananchi Newspaper on February 12, 2015 (page 4), a mzungu was arrested at the Julius Nyerere International Airport (JNIA) for having a human skull in his possession. The Belgian national - Balcjan Christine Weejktgns (49) - was on his way to Belgium through Zurich, Switzerland. Airport police Hamisi Selemani said that Balcjan had put the skull in a plastic bag inside his suitcase. It was also said that he was a resident scientist at Sokoine University of Agriculture (SUA) in Morogoro. I wonder though, how was a human skull related with SUA? Hmmm…

The story goes on to explain that upon interrogation, Balcjan revealed that the skull was his for more than 15 years. He had come with it from Belgium in 2000 when he came into the country for research purposes.

At the end Selemani concludes that Balcjan didn’t see any harm in having the skull in his possession since it is ‘normal’ in Belgium. Is it, really? But he reminded the good citizens and guests of Tanzania that this is not quite normal here in Tanzania since it is illegal to have human body parts as private possession.

Since we live in a technologically advanced world, it is easy to find anyone on the internet; but not Mr Weejktgns or the evidence of his research. On typing his name on Google, nothing else comes up other than the story that was written in Mwananchi. I am not sure what will be decided of this man, but if you ask me, there is something fishy going on there.