Wow! Did We Just Lie to the World About Livingstone?



I had heard the rumours that Livingstone town had cleaned up good. I was told that it had transformed into a clean and neat town. I was sceptical of the reports, how many clean towns can you mention in this country? As this information continued to trickle then flood in, I did the logical thing and went to visit Livingstone to see and prove for myself. I had to have evidence that the town was truly transformed. However, after a four-day visit/vacation of the town, I left it feeling rather upset and disappointed. How was it possible that a once vendor and litter filled town could be that clean? 

 

Vendor Free



The last time I visited Livingstone was about five years ago. Then it was a town with potholed roads, vendors on every street forcing their merchandise at anyone who dared glace their way and the buildings that hadn’t seen a paint job in probably a decade. To put it simply it was not a pleasant sight for the glorious tourist town that we were always boasting of. Then by some magical wand called the United Nations World Tourism Organisation (UNWTO) Congress the town gets a facelift. And for what, so we could lie to the rest of the world that Livingstone is this pristine town that it really isn’t?

 

If the only time you choose to clean your house is when visitors are passing through then there is seriously something wrong with you. Livingstone is a classic case of pretending to have a clean house when we all know the reality. This country has been talking about the diversification of the economy to tourism ever since the collapse of the mines in the 1990s. Therefore, you would expect that Livingstone should have been already nothing short of an amazing town but alas. I am still failing to understand why it had to take the UNWTO for us to realise that the roads in Livingstone have potholes, the buildings needed a new coat of paint, maybe it would be a good idea to take the vendors to the market, and what of putting proper signs.  






Livingstone Museum



No hawkers on the roads



I am fuming, what this simply showed me is that it is okay for me a Zambia born, bred and will probably die here to live in towns with potholes, rubbish, see ugly buildings and use a large tree to locate a place. It’s absolutely unacceptable. I mean let us take a step back here and look at this issue with objective eyes. Most of the things that were done with the exception of the roads are fairly reasonable and cheap to do. Things such as asking shop owners to paint their buildings, put better roofing, remove the vendors from the town centres, sweep the streets, and put road signs. C’mon how hard can that be? All it will require is political will.



Another View of Livingstone

  I

Canopied Roof



Yes, I applaud the Minister of Tourism, Arts and Culture, Hon. Sylvia Masebo who worked tirelessly in putting a town together to present to the world. I would really like to commend her for the effort she put in. I thought she stood her ground and was firm enough to get the job done. But above all there is one thing that she showed, that we can have clean and neat towns if we want. If Lusaka could only be a fraction of what Livingstone has become, that will be a day indeed. I will not apologise by saying that this city is a mess, and town centre is short of a dumping site. If it takes the UNWTO to clean up a city, then may Lusaka host it next time.

Why should it take the coming of a congress before Livingstone could be cleaned up or in this case given a cosmetic façade put together for the rest of the world? Did it have to take the UNWTO to realise that Livingstone’s roads needed to be done up, the vendors deserved modern trading spaces or that it was about time the city had a total makeover. I am correct to imply that now every town in Zambia should pray to host an international conference in order for them to get some form of sanity? The next question is what are the people who are in-charge of all this doing? We deserve better and we can have better, Livingstone just showed me it is possible.

In Memory of blogger Flolics Kasumbalesa

My Dental Visit Horror Story

I have not usually been afraid of a dental visit. From the time my Dad would take me to pull out my milk teeth, a visit to the dentist was not something to cause any fear in me. I have no phobia of injections and once the anaesthetic is injected removing the tooth is almost painless. I had heard my friend’s dental horror stories countless times and always thought that they exaggerated and they were not true. Never in a million years would I have guessed that I would have my own dental visit horror story to tell.

A decayed tooth had broken in half and I visited the Dental Training School in Thorn Park to have it removed. I had previously visited them and since they were experts in dentistry I expected that the minor extraction of a tooth would go well. In fact, I used to faithfully recommend them to people who needed to visit a dentist. So Last week Wednesday, I paid them another visit, I requested for high cost treatment which meant my tooth would be extracted by a consultant. Yes, a consultant. What I perceived would be a simple operation turned out to be the script of my first dental horror story.

I sat on the dental chair, removed my glasses, clasped the hands and I opened my mouth wide. I had been through this routine a number of times and I knew it well. The consultant who was of Asian descent, my best guess from Philippines or Malaysia wore his gloves and got the injection to get the anaesthesia ready. I thought he was taking his sweet time, didn’t he realise that some of us are busy people. The injecting of the anaesthesia around the tooth was barely a pinch and I waited for it to be numbed out.

The consultant then took what looked like a pliers, (excuse for my lack of knowledge of the medical term) and he held onto the tooth and began to pull. A bit of the tooth broke off, he then said something in frustration. He then reached for what looked like a screw driver and dug into my gum, immediately a sting of pain hit me and I told the consultant that I was feeling pain. He then asked me if I wanted more anaesthesia and nodded my head in affirmation. He injected more and he reached for the pliers once again and held on to the tooth. He pulled, he pushed, side to side. He gritted his teeth, asked me to open my mouth wider, pushed my head back and roughly moved me from side to side with the pliers. I screamed in pain. He deliberately ignored my screams and continued to assault my tooth in whatever form or fashion he knew how. The pain was so excruciating it felt like a torture sensation in a Saw movie and I almost saw myself drifting away, if it wasn’t for me trying to be all macho, tears would have started rolling.

This man wants to kill me I thought to myself. Finally, I could not stand the pain any longer and I held on to his hand and told him it hurts. His response was to get angry and shout at me that it’s my fault I let the tooth decay. From his implication it sounded like I deserved every bit of pain that was coming my way. What happened to patient care? Too traumatised to argue I let him attack my tooth with all the ferocity he could muster as I winced and endured the pain. I bet he was only seconds short of putting his foot on my neck just to remove the tooth. As I was on the brink of fainting, with the pliers and a tooth at the end he told me done. He inserted cotton wool into my mouth and told bite for 40 minutes. He then put what was left of my tooth in some cotton wool and handed it to me.

I left that Dental Training School with no medication for the pain whatsoever, and too traumatised to think straight. I could not believe the amount of anguish I had to endure just to remove a tooth. I do not know whether I am the only one to experience such but there is one thing I know for sure. I am never going back ever; someone will have to drag me by my feet and in chains before I step foot into that dental room again.

Share your dental horror story?

The Blackness of the #GhanaVsZambia Twitter War

In the aftermath of the loss to Ghana that all but resigned us to watch the World Cup from our television screens, I am in no mood to get into the blame game at this moment. The disappointing results the Chipolopolo have garnered so far have smeared any faith I had in them. So much was my unbelief in them that I honestly did not watch the game. I did not want a bunch of 11 chaps to wreck my weekend. I just feel sorry for my sisters. They have been denied the chance to get Brazilian hair straight from the source. However, even before Zambia was embroiled in the football match on Friday. Some Zambians already took the battle to twitter using the hash tag #GhanaVsZambia. You know it was serious when it makes BBC news.

The twitter war between Ghanaians and Zambians began just after it was reported that the Ghanaians refused Zambia to land their chartered plane in Kumasi. Kumasi was the town that was to host the decisive game. In no time, the Zambians took to twitter to air their frustrations. When I first read the tweets, I thought of them as humourous and I will admit some left me in stitches. I do not mind some harmless banter, and if that was the case, I doubt if I would have written about the twitter war. This fiasco developed into some form of racial stereotyping. It was not about white folks thinking that blacks were inferior. Oh no, this sadly was blacks on blacks.

Nearly all the disses that were thrown Ghana's way were about how black they were and for some absolutely idiotic belief, the notion that because of their darker blackness, they were inferior. At the moment, when I thought, we were burying such ideas they reared their ugly head again in the most public way. It appears that there is quite a lot of work that needs to be done. There are still some sections of our society that think that because they are lighter skinned are more superior than the darker skinned individuals. By superior, I mean lighter toned individuals are viewed as more handsome, beautiful, prettier, vava voom while the "inferior" darker toned are seen as uglier, unpretty, average and lower than the other blacks.

 

If you are an individual who habours such retrogressive and uncouth beliefs, my suggestion is that you need help. It is not like when we are created, we go into a boutique and choose what skin colour to be. There is definitely nothing inferior and degrading about being black and let alone dark toned black. And I dare you to challenge me on that. I am even ashamed to even think that it was just sheer banter. When you have hundreds of the same tweets about how black a certain group of people are, it is just plain wrong.   

This issue of blackness is perhaps further perpetuated by men who think that having a fairer skinned girlfriend that they have landed the jackpot. Darker skinned ladies are often frowned upon and not perceived as beautiful. It is no wonder that skin bleaching companies are still in business.  The media should also bear their portion of the blame. The unfair majority of advertisements that market lotions and makeup typically use fairer skinned women. Tell me how many darker toned women have you seen? It could be this bombardment of advertisements that subconsciously engrain into the minds the view that lighter skinned blacks are better.

No one has the right to feel that they are a better human being because of their skin colour. There are many different shades of black and whatever shade you are, it does not make you any worser or better than the next person. When fellow blacks perceive other darker toned blacks as lesser than they are then we are in serious trouble. It is time that societies get talking and breaking down some of these stereotypes. In the words of James Brown, “Say it Loud,  I'm BLACK, and I'm PROUD!"

5 High Risk Start-Up Businesses in Zed

 One of the advantages that having so many unemployed people in a country like Zambia is that many are forced to become entrepreneurial minded. It is now important more than ever to think of ways in which you can earn an income. Even for people who are employed, they are not ruling out entrepreneurship as a source of extra income. The trouble that many novices to the business world are faced with is what business to get involved in. I have rather become bored with the common question, “I want to start a business, what should I do?” Therefore, I have taken the liberty to mention five businesses that if you are thinking about them; you should reconsider.

1. Cross border Trading

I know that some may view this as a low-risk business simply because there are many people who are involved in it. However, there are a number of factors that certain people overlook when they choose to engage in cross boarder trading. These include the place where to source cheap merchandise, their goods will be sold hire purchase and chances of default are high; almost everyone is going after the same market (working class), and selling similar items. The other aspect that most people do seem to consider is that some cross border traders evade taxes. This is done by smuggling the goods across the boarders or finding ways not to declare their purchases. It does not matter whichever way you choose to look at it if you do not pay taxes it is evasion. Business needs to be done honestly.

2. Publishing a Magazine

Every time I visit a book shop, I notice a new publication on the shelves. I wonder why many people have not yet realised that publishing a magazine is very risky because the chances of success are very low. There are only a handful of magazines that are able to still stay afloat such as Bulletin and Records (in my opinion, the best publication in Zed), AfroBride, Lowdown and Zambian Traveler. The challenge with starting a magazine is that the readership is very low. Magazines thrive on customer loyalty, and that is hard to obtain in Zambia. The pricing is also critical, the only way a magazine can be cheap is if you have enough companies advertising. Printing costs in Zambia are still high and therefore, the only way to print cheaply is to do it in huge numbers, which can be costly.

3. Internet Café

A few years ago, the Internet café business was booming. There was an Internet café on almost every corner in Lusaka. However, with the peaking of the telecommunication industries in Zambia with it came the inevitable death to the Internet café business. The reduction on the price of the smart phones and portable Internet modems has become more convenient alternatives to the Internet cafes. I personally cannot remember the last time I went to an Internet café. Internet cafés have to rely on low per minute costs and rely on volume of customers to make their money. However, if there is a low inflow of customers it becomes really difficult to break even. Besides this, you have chaps who download movies and eat at your bandwidth hence reducing the speed. Nothing is more frustrating than a slow internet connection. I foresee a situation where internet cafés will be the reserve for tourists.

4. T-Shirt Printing

This is one of those businesses that is seasonal and does not always guarantee a flow of income. T-shirt printing is usually centred around events where companies need to wear T-shirts such as on Labour Day or Teachers Day. Other than these events, the next business will come from schools. The trouble is that this is already a saturated market and people have stopped asking for customised T-shirts that can see you through the periods when there is no business flowing in.

5. Owning a Mini-Bus

I deliberately left this for last. This one is rather controversial and people will definitely have divergent views. Regardless, I still classify running a mini-bus as risky business. The prevailing conditions are what make mini-buses risky business. There are way too many buses around and there are always battles for passengers. There is also the risk that the drivers may not take care of the mini-buses well; therefore, instead of the bus bringing money it spends a huge amount of time in the garage or pounded at some police station. The transport industry is perhaps one of the most heavily regulated not only from the Road Transport and Safety Agency but also from the police. The only way that I see a minibus being less risk is if the owner of bus is the driver. Aside from the operational costs, it is also one of the most stressful businesses.

The fact that something is a high risk does not necessarily mean that it cannot be profitable, or it will not succeed. The challenge is how to reduce the risk and finding a way in which it can succeed, after all this is the point of entrepreneurship. Before starting any new business it is important to do your research well, just because you see someone else succeeding at a business does not imply you will too. I am open to be challenged on my list.

Facebook is One Big Therapy Session

Dear Sis Dolly,

I am man aged 35 and my wife is 26 years old. We have been married for three years but we do not have any children together. I have two kids from a previous relationship so I know the problem is not with me. I want more children but it seems that my wife cannot have any children because of complications. A month ago, she confessed that when she was a teenager she fell pregnant and aborted. The doctors have also confirmed that she cannot have children because of the abortion. I love my wife very much but I also want more children. What should I do? Do I divorce and marry another woman? Please help.*

If you do not know or remember Sis Dolly, then that means one of two things. Either you are not of my generation or you never read a Drum magazine in the 90s. Essentially Sis Dolly, was a columnist for Drum magazine who dished out advice on various topics to individuals. I sometimes naively marveled at the grand scale of problems people had. In a mature and objective tone, Sis Dolly would then give out her advice on the situation. Whether her suggestions were helpful, I do not know. Sis Dolly is long gone, but people still have issues. A few years ago people used to take their problems to the magazines, today people take their problems to Facebook.

Facebook has started to become one big therapy session with the wise and idiots giving their advice to the problem. Joy FM usually posts personal issues under what is called Kuseniseni and Hot FM have the Hot Issue. Both these begin with people requesting to hide their IDs and asking people for advice. Some people do provide advice that someone can use, and then there are the bunch of fools and idiots who say the stupidest things one can imagine.  Here is someone who is in genuine need of assistance and then someone out there who has nothing better to do, chooses to expose their childish and idiotic senses by rubbishing the situation or making fun of it. These are perhaps some of the things we need to live with on Facebook these days.

Maybe we should be blaming the people for airing their problems on Facebook. But if not Facebook where do people go in Zambia to discuss their issues? It’s not like in the developed countries where you have shrinks and psychiatrists where you go and lie on a plush sofa while you talk about your adulterous and lying wife. The closest I know of such is Chainama but imagine me telling my friends that I go to Chainama to see a psychiatrist; first thing that will pop in their minds is that I am mad. We do have the church but not everyone is comfortable going to church, for fear of Mulomo and judgement. I guess Facebook may just be the best alternative they have.

For the people who are fond of posting their problems and issues on Facebook, people need to realise that not everyone on Facebook is of right mind and they must be prepared to receive the junk of advice too. In the meantime, I am still trying to figure a place where to take all these frustrations that I habour.

*The above is purely fictional and any resemblance to real people or events is purely coincidental.

Are African Names Embarrassing?

So the world was fussing about a baby born in England, first there was the news that some woman was in labour and after the birth, it was what the little chap would be called. The world press speculated, bloggers predicted, even my workmates too joined in the hullabaloo. Then the name was announced, the king to be would be called George Alexander Louis. You can imagine my disappointment, what happened to his middle name being Akakulubelwa?

African Names

We give our children the names of George, William, Charles, Harry, so why can’t the royal family for once bear the name Musonda, Dabwiso or even Hantobolo. Some of us if we have not been given the “royal” names we shall call ourselves that for all, we care. Therefore, to me, the full names of the soon to be king are George Alexander Akakulubelwa Louis. Please forgive my lunatic side. Even so, there is a serious point here. I have an English or Christian name as well as two Zambian middle names. However, there was a time in my early years when I didn’t like my Zambian middle names that much. It was nothing against the names per se just that the names could be twisted to mean something else. So to avoid being a joke of the classroom, I rarely introduced myself by my Zambian middle names. It was only later in high school that I decided to embrace them, and now they are my preferred names.

Due to all this naming debate that was going around it has left me wondering, why is it that we in Africa can easily embrace an English, American or even toss it far a Russian name, but we do not call our children by other African names? I am yet to come across a Kwame Chanda, Ayobami Muyatwa or Raila Zimba. You may go the length and breadth of this nation, and the Zambezi will run dry before you find someone with such a name. Why don’t we call our children by other African names? Is it that we do not think that the names are not good enough, or sound cool enough, maybe to put it simply we just don’t like African names. Naming our children, Michelle, Ashley, Otis, Nigel, or Beethoven is a much preferred options.

There is another thing that still continues to baffle me, up to this day. There are people who I have called by their Zambian names, all their lives and the moment they go abroad, I see a strange name on their Facebook profile. I would like to understand why some Zambians feel the need to change or have English names the moment they go out. It is one thing, if you have been known by your English name whilst here in Zambia, but to change your names just because you are in USA raises many questions. Are our Zambian names that hard to pronounce? Are Zambian let alone African names more difficult to call than Chinese, Russian, German names? Perhaps even though we may deny it, we may have some inferiority complex when it comes to Zambian names.

It is the parent’s decision to choose what they will call their child. Some parents would wish to have names that have meaning to them while others opt for the unorthodox names. I now have a bias towards Zambian names. For some of us who continue to embrace our Zambian names, I hope we may do so even across the borders. Before I sign off, should my son be born just after I finish reading Things Fall Apart, he will be a lucky lad if his first name is not Okonkwo.

Should Africans be embracing their names more?

WARNING: SERIAL JOB HUNTERS AT LARGE

Take a survey of the thousands of employed individuals in this country and you will discover that the majority of us are a bunch of frustrated job hunters. Forget about employee loyalty that was for our forefathers, this generation is always on the hunt for another job no matter what you offer us. We want more money, the better house, the bigger car, the glossy title and for all it’s worth the respect too. Dare to give us what we want now, and we will be out there seeking more. For we are the Job Hunter Generation and our thirst cannot be quenched.

 

Dear World, please understand us; we have bills to pay, people to keep up with and family to please. We are not an ungrateful, materialist, egoistic breed of job hunters; we just want what we believe we are worth. We do not claim to be the best neither do we suggest that we will settle for less. Deep down we wish and hope that there is a job out there that will truly value us for what we are worth even if it is for a moment. It is for this reason that we live for that day when we will walk into our boss’ office and gladly place that letter on his table with a smile and say, “I resign.” Until such a day comes we shall faithfully read every daily newspaper, purposely beef up the C.V, carefully signoff each letter with the words, “I am sincerely looking forward to hearing from you soon,” and prayerfully send out the applications.

Do not think of us as oblivious and unrealistic to the world around us. We are well aware, that somewhere out there, there is someone who is praying for a job, any job at that. For the one who struggles to make ends meet with a fraction of what we earn, or a person who doesn’t know what it feels like to have experience on your C.V. we do spare a minute for those. Charles Darwin said it best, “Survival of the fittest.” Do not blame us if we choose to take our opportunities and grab them with wide open arms.

If there is anyone to blame, the career choices we made are it. The paths we deliberately or were forced to take. We search for greener pastures out there, if ever they exist. Forgive us if we ourselves fail to define what greener pastures we seek. We masquerade around with ambitions that dig deeper holes that we think will be filled with more money, more time, more prestige and a better boss too. Yet we hide the truth that we are all striving for career fulfillment. Some will be lucky to achieve them, and the rest of us will die Job Hunters.

We are already resigned to our fate. We may never know what loving our job really feels like. Following our passion are dreams we have learnt to crush slowly. In the meantime, we shall pretend to love our jobs, and lick as many boots to get to the top. Smile and lie, that the job we left was worse than the one we have. Every interview, will be attended with a prayer to heaven. We shall not give up our desire for greener pastures wherever they maybe, after all we are serial job hunters.