As I began to assimilate and became part of my community, through discussions and constant deliberations with the chiefs, the locals, the academics/learned/intellectuals, as well as those in the diaspora, I quickly realized that my quest for development in my community would never be a one-person game. I became aware that there is a short circuit in the flow of engagement amongst community members. People in my community generally associate themselves according to political affiliations, family ties, social status, villages, etc. Therefore, I decided to create a platform (Tukombo Today) that will act as a bridge to bring them together to have a consensus in building our community. The idea was “well” received, but the challenge was skepticism, distrust, and political and family differences. The platform had (still has) a snail’s pace on the flow of information. Yes, meaningful ideas were being shared. Also, concerns were being expressed, albeit treading on eggs. But however great the ideas were, they lacked a unified force to actualize them. In my view -this was a platform (a boardroom, as I call it) to bridge the engagement block. But still, people could not engage freely and unbiasedly with one common goal due to trivial matters that have crippled development. I have realized it is not unique to my village but to Africa as a whole.

Another huge challenge was that however great the developmental ideas were, the struggle was that most members were based in different cities, towns, and countries. Therefore, they needed more feasibility on the ground, physically ensuring that some of the ideas were shared with the relevant stakeholders in the village. The challenge was decoding these ideas into a layman’s language that the general public and chiefs would understand. I realized that our priorities were different, and our vision in terms of development ran on parallel lines; therefore, merging the two was a dream that “might” never be a reality, the demise of my community and Africa. My mind and heart would be overwhelmed as I saw my vision for a better Tukombo becoming a burden instead of a blessing. A unified force will never work under such conditions. The ideas got suffocated before they could see any daylight. My community has so many opportunities for greatness, considering its location close to the lake, excellent weather, fantastic scenery, unique natural vegetation, a heritage site that has ancient carvings, naturally warm water springs, and is home to some of the most prominent political leaders Like Aleke Banda and his wife, Mbumba Margaret Banda. Recently gold was discovered in my village. All of these opportunities lie dormant because people fail to come together to “agree to disagree’’ to ensure that they maximize the available resources to build a better community. The other challenge is ”the bwana mentality,” the scramble for positions in any community committee, especially by the locals to gain respect and access to resources. Celebrity status is especially used by those with resources to manipulate the locals to partner with them, manipulating them to their advantage. If a person comes with noble ideas and does not belong to either of the groups, there would be little or no local support. The person becomes a threat to those scrambling for positions or a threat to the community celebrities. Any noble efforts face many red tapes, and secret agents or monitoring personnel are deployed to spy and report to their ‘’master’’. Therefore, instead of making friends, a Pandora’s box of enemies is opened. It makes it difficult to trust anyone with any information on development for fear of ideas being stolen by people with the speed of light to ensure they remain celebrated (bwana mentality) – the battle for village/community celebrity. I have been debating whether to continue with the mission of working together through shared ideas or go solo since I have individually made minor impacts through financial help from just a few friends, but an impact nonetheless.

I have realized that development is not only in terms of infrastructure but a changed life and mindset. Therefore, I plan to implement progressive developmental change through whatever efforts I can manage and any assistance I receive. I have started a youth leadership program, a girl empowerment program, as the youths are the soul and future of the community. Hopefully, I will live to see my dreams of a better Tukombo.

Being an activist for community development comes with many burdens; however, it can never quench the desire to see a better life for my community and country because it is the place I call home.

Story by:

Cathrine Banda, from Mzuzu Malawi. She is a Community Activist, Motivational Speaker, Writer, Poet, Former Radio Presenter The 1873 FM, Johannesburg South Africa

cathrinetwabi@gmail.com

The post Diary of a village girl: Tukombo – Parrarel Mindsets appeared first on Sheevolves.world.

Poem by Sarah Eno Obongha

Choose To Try Again

At times the hope of a river flows into a canal,
Draining away its current.
At times, the faith of the moon is covered by the cloud
Leaving its mouth silent, even when it screams out loud.
At times the strength of the rain is shadowed by a stride sun
Exposing its weakness even when it’s on the run.
At times we strive towards our goal but are faced with shut doors,
Banged against us,
Leaving us injured and chiselled by bitterness.
At times our mistakes are bold, staring us right in the face,
sending more fear to our injured minds.
At times care becomes a curse as sorrow lingers in our home,
Our doubt knocks on our strength like a homeless pet,
Ready to feed on us as a pest.

Always bear in mind;
That you can choose to try again.

Also,
At times the star shines bright, giving hope to those who stare,
At times the moon glows, it glows so radiantly,
that even the cloud dims Its eyes.
At times the rain falls with drums of a fresh start,
creating a symphony with thunder and lightning

as it matches on boldly.
At times we are faced with opportunities,
It appears unto us in a blink,
For grabs and steals.
our minds can bear wounds with courage,
as it scares away our sorrow and doubts
at times our strength leads us to our purpose,
bearing in mind the scar of our failure
believing that, even if we fall again,
we will choose to try again.

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If love was a person

Angel spent days crying. Life was getting hard, she felt empty inside, and her mind was numb… She thought that her story was unfinished.

All she wanted was someone to hold her hand and tell her everything would be okay.

Missing John sickened her until it didn’t until she realized that if love was a person, John would have been hers for all seven lives.

Yet, stubborn as hearts can be, hers misses him again sometimes. When it does, she hears from its beat that she doesn’t miss him more. Instead, she loves him more.

But ‘more’ was quite a confusing word. Perhaps Angel also loved John more when she first flirted with the stranger in him. It was three years ago. She was fresh out of college. One morning she got a text and wouldn’t care less after checking the sender’s profile picture.

“Who on earth wears this hat and a long-sleeved shirt?” She laughed with disregard. “I swear his name is John something”. Angel was totally blind to the light that suddenly sparkled in her eyes.

Three minutes later, Angel realized her eyes had been fixed on the picture on the screen.
She had no idea what was going on with her. She was forever lost in his staring eyes.
She texted a “hi” back. She obsessively held her phone, waiting for it to beep again. She was bothered when he kept her waiting.

“Hola! Can I come over?” Her phone chimed. It was John.

“Do you know where I live?” She typed fast as her face formed a smile. But she deleted the text before hitting ‘Send’. He didn’t; he was just making a conversation. But the “Can I come over” thing blew her mind. She wanted him to come over right away so she could see the person who was shaking her thoughts up.

They chatted for hours, but it took Angel just three minutes to know that she was in love with this stranger. That night she played games and watched anime to force herself to sleep.

The following day, her stomach felt weird, and she couldn’t tell if she was excited or nervous.
Last night he had made sure she would text him first in the morning. She did. Angel was hitting on him hard.

“Good morning, handsome.”

“Morning, sexy!” He replied.

She sent him another message.

“You’re not the first to call me sexy.”

He responded with a single emoji.

“You’ll never know how much that means to me,” She said.

He showed up in a white T-shirt with black butterflies that hugged his body perfectly. Angel wondered if she could take advantage and steal a better view of his abs. She then noticed that she hadn’t introduced herself.

“Hey handsome, it’s nice to finally meet you. I wanted to see what the hell you looked like.” She said with a soft giggle.

John’s cheeks turned pink. She found it adorable.

“Sorry about that,” he said. Angel thought he was blushing.
She was trying to hide her nervous laughter, but she couldn’t. She told him that he looked cute, but he denied it and joked:

“You should know that’s not the reason I’m blushing, but you’re a little shit.”

“Aw! Are you embarrassed to have called me sexy?”

He blushed harder and shook his head. “No.”

“Well, then why are you blushing?”

John was silent and didn’t say anything back. Angel could swear that he was blushing. He always told her that he was shy with girls, but she didn’t believe him. John hugged Angel tightly, squeezed and spun her around. In that madness, her lips mouthed a “WTF”, which he heard. That’s when he whispered “Ndagukunda” in her ear.

Her head was pounding like a drum, and his words felt like a dagger in her heart. She couldn’t believe what she had heard. Angel thought she was dreaming because it took decades for him to tell her “Ndagukunda”.

The sky was on her side, considering how it rained suddenly; only then would they spend a little more time together.

On the other side of the road was a hotel. They ran there, holding hands like love birds waiting for each other for a long time. After checking in, the couple went to the room upstairs and made love.

On her way home, all she could think of was that kiss. It changed her whole life. It was more meaningful than any kiss she’d ever given someone, and it filled her soul with bliss.

She was already thinking about how to give him a proper ‘hello’ on the next hookup when her mobile rang. She was confused at first. The voice was unfamiliar, and the traffic noise in the background didn’t make it easy for her. But she heard that it was an ambulance nurse on the other phone. So she stayed on the line only to listen to the sirens turn into a whisper and die.

Angel knew she had to rush. She reached home and grabbed a quick shower. Then, she put on a pair of grey slacks, a shirt and a leather jacket.

As she ascended in the elevator, it hit her how stupid her decision was. She had no idea which room John was in. She should have asked the nurse about the location. At the reception, she was asking everybody where John was. Nobody knew John.

A doctor came to her. She was not supposed to disturb John because he was resting. But those were the last words Angel wanted to hear. Thank God the doctor didn’t say them.

Seeing him lying in hospebed pierced her heart until he smiled.
His smile, like a sudden beam of sunlight illuminating the darkest corners of the room, also illuminates her heart. Angel was weak in voice, so she went close to John and murmured,

“I know God does things in mysterious ways. I know bad things happen for a reason. But I am having a bad time finding no reason for this.”

John smiled again and said to her,

“Life is so much more beautiful when you know you can die,” He paused and grabbed her hand. “Every blue sky, every potion of love and every kiss feels so much more precious when you realize it could be your last.”

Angel’s felt heavy. He lifted her hand close to his mouth as she stared at him. He kissed her hand and laid down to rest.

By Ingabire Gisele

Instagram: @Xandagiselle

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