Village boy Impressions

1.         I beheld a jolly chap in the parkland;  In the warm sunny morning air.  With an old hat over his head,  An old bucket at his side,  An axe  over his shoulder,  And whistling a faintly familiar tune;  He wandered about to and fro  Collecting the dried cow dung.  I smiled in recognition and remembrance  As my heart rolled back the years  To when I went collecting termites. I also had an old bucket and a hoe  But alas! no hat of my own  As I marched into the scrubland,  With great eagerness or reluctance  Humming happy or melancholy tunes,  As my mood might happen to be.  A man returning to his house with a bucket of termites 2.         After the early rains, I go in search For crusts of clay  on the ground That shows where the woodworm lurks. There, I plant a pot of broken-up dung That will nourish and lure them To build and multiply for a day or two. And in the warm sunrise, I come To harvest and gather with my bucket!       The

Ø He had only one major publication  Ø It was in Hebrew  Ø It had no references  Ø It was not in a refereed journal  Ø Some doubt He wrote it by himself  Ø It may be true that He created the world, but what has He done since then?  Ø His cooperative efforts have been quite limited  Ø The scientific community has had a hard time replicating His results.  Ø He never applied to the Ethics Board for permission to use human subjects.  Ø When one experiment went awry, He tried to cover it by drowning his subjects.  Ø When subjects did not behave as predicted, He deleted them from the sample.  Ø He rarely came to class, just told students to read the book.  Ø Some say He had his son teach the class.  Ø He expelled his first two students for learning  Ø Although there were only 10 requirements, most of His students failed his tests  Ø His office hours were infrequent and usually held on a mountaintop Source : Unknown       I first saw this composition in th

“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

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.

Photo by Dominika Masarska (Bybanen stop at Nonneseter) The rain is falling everywhere Falling, falling, falling… all year long!  It rains on the mountains and hills  And on the shops in the valleys.  In the parks, lakes, and fields  On trees, shrubs, and grass it falls.  Bergen is rain and rain is Bergen.

I wander through every mucky street,  Near where the choked Odaw cannot flow.  And mark in every face I meet,  Marks of weariness, marks of sorrow In the very sweat of every chap,  In every driver's cry for way,  In every voice: in every shack,  The decay of a nation holds sway. Have you read:  The Hustler in the City? How the street-sleepers cry,  Every trader's stall in choking spaces,  And the shirtless truck pushers' sigh,  Ring of the sleaze in high places.  But worse, in the perilous nights I see  How the youthful harlots and hustlers sleep  As the cargo of cursed slave-ships at sea  And chars with shame the conscience deep You may also like:  The Kayayei's Tale

Cli-ing! cli-ing! cli-ing!  “Break time pleeeeaase!”  Went the school bell,  And the bellboy  together.  And all at once we bail out  Shouting talking laughing  Hailing jumping running  Rumbling like a turbulent stream. Spreading out into the compound  Like a flood sweeping across  The plains after a heavy shower  Delighted as  caged birds set free! Read: Village Boy Impressions - The Days of Bliss