Skip to main content

Where went the federation noise?

I wanted it to read: 'where went the federation nonsense?'

But, sometimes, I am reminded of the values I was imparted. At the same time, in attempting to accommodate even the proponents of the nonsense, I have settled for a neutral and almost respectful word: noise. That is only in the heading.

I once posted on Facebook, when the nonsense was confusing, that the discussion of 'federation' and 'secession' or anything of such sort was just nonsense. I laughed at all those who were carried away by the insanity of the mover of the motion and I told them they were all partakers in a feast of insanity where they were all laughing at one man's joke which was nothing beyond his delusion. It was rude, you may argue, but it was honest as well.

Now, as you can see, after a dose of reality all the deluded have shut up and are back into engaging in a public discourse of the usual stuff of 'poorest country on earth' or 'new marriage bill'.

Well, welcome to the world of reality. These are the issues that we need to discuss; not that they will benefit our country anything but because we sometimes find a common ground here and stop discussing the vanities of our tribes which have brought no gain nor loss on us.

As I said in yet another post on the same Facebook platform, the issue of federation or secession is not talked about from the comfort of one's bed with one punching away keys on a smartphone to belch his ideas on Facebook, at least not in Africa.

Read your books, or online sources, and see how in some places raged the fire of secession or its cousin, federation, and how the authorities were engaged.

By the way, they were not always successful and chances of Mecca merging with Vatican are higher than you getting even a chance to be heard on the nonsense you stopped after discovering its vanity.

Once again, where went the federation nonsense?

I know most of you will choose to react to the tone, not the reality that this post has carried. Nevertheless, next time somebody brings up this issue do not get carried away. It will die a natural death as it has always done.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

For my love

I won't be there when they lose themselves to the ecstasy of the muse and burry themselves in the passions of politics. I won't congregate with them under the dark thursday night as they fail to see the dangers lurking on the corners in their stupor of art I won't join them as they scratch the nose of the roaring lions and leopards with their skill of writing in their ignorance of danger I will be here, dear composing sweet verses and lines that will sound as mellodies to fill you with happiness I will lie on your lap and wander into distant worlds before coming back with beautiful poetry in the chambers of my heart I won't join them dear for my poetry is of love (Is for you) and they say: they don't need it for theirs is political. Instead, I'll be with you and watch my nation being sold at a low price while our love blossoms!
1 comment
Read more

The hate that hate produced: the John Chilembwe story

1915 : a middle-aged man in his mid-forties stands amongst a group of his loyal followers. They are about 200. Perhaps, it is a chilly rainy night with the silence of a graveyard surrounding the church. “The white man has sat on us for so long,” declares the tall man with obviously a mild temper. “We need to do something, we need to act. We must send him packing from our land.” Possibly, the men listening to him shake their heads in unison. Others are yet to comprehend what is driving the man of God in front of them for they have known him as a quiet man for a long time. Thus, the story of John Chilembwe’s rebellion begins, in the January of 1915, years long before the wind of freedom and change begins to sweep in the 1960s. Many years before the bells of freedom begin to ring on the African continent. John Chilembwe, writes Robert I. Rotberg in a 2005 Harvard Magazine article, was not a radical man such that nobody could expect him to stage a rebellion. He appeared...
2 comments
Read more

What would Jesus do?

The sun was just beginning to burn the shores of the Sea of Galilee. Some weeks before, four fishermen had been fished from their trade by the carpenter’s son to be his disciples. They were now with him. Sitting on the shores of the sea they had always regarded as a home. Their past, forgotten; hope erected in the future. Jesus, for that was the name of the son of the carpenter whom the church had denounced, was busy preaching to his congregation. His voice was small, his frame was little – almost frail. The cloth he had used to wrap his body in was dirty such that in within his congregation you could hear some little whispers of people wondering what made this man believe he was the son of God and not just Joseph, the carpenter. His voice had no charisma. It lacked that magic and fire that John the Baptist (now in prison) had had in those days when he had baptized people in this very same sea, calling them of the wicked generation, calling them to turn away from their sins...
2 comments
Read more