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Showing posts with the label Prose

Halting Words for the 'Early' Jacob Adongo Atambilla

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When evenings in Sandema were dark, His footsteps on the road were heard, On journeys long with his Bible in hand, In Faith and works he showed the way. From Kori number 1 to number 2 both, From nearby Kobdema to far-off Kalijiisa, Across streams to Nyaansa and hills to Suwarinsa, A weary pilgrim on many treacherous roads. With girls and boys, men and women, With Roman Catholics and protestant folk, With those of faith and those without it, All their sorrows and joys he shared. A gentle voice, a helping hand, Knees that bleed from kneeling in prayer, A soft cackling laugh, with seamless teeth, The perfect listener, with limitless patience. Long upon an empty stomach he went, And defied both the devil and his lieutenants, His Bible and faith were his only staff, Upon them, he leaned and hoped and prayed.             Read:  Village Boy Impressions - Fathers Hail the man Jacob Adongo Atambilla, The son of Atam...

The Emperor's New Clothes

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“God chooses things the world considers foolish in order to shame those who think they are wise and chooses what is weak in the world to shame the strong” - 1Cor1:27 (my translation).   I visited a library for the first time in my life when I was 13 and in J. H. S 1. Then, my small stature coupled with the fact that I was new and not very confident restricted me to the children's section all through my adolescent years and even beyond. Nevertheless, I was really enjoying the stories in that section. My favourite story was;  "The Emperor's New Clothes ” by the Danish author, Hans Christian Andersen. I do not know exactly why it was my favourite then. Perhaps because it was so hilarious (the thought of a king walking down the street naked). Today, I remember it and love it not because it is so hilarious (for it is no longer so to me) but because it speaks volumes about society. I have come to learn a lesson from it that I can’t forget. The Pl...

What is in a greeting?

There was an old man in my village who didn’t like to be greeted “Saliu’wa?” (Good morning?), or for that matter good afternoon, or good evening. He preferred to be greeted in the traditional exchange which entail a recital of enquiries about a person’s health, and that of their spouse, children, siblings, parents, other relatives and even neighbours. As children, we took delight in arousing his anger by shouting “saliu’wa!” at him from a distance before we took to our heels and run for dear life.