Onjalazbroz- Testing the Foundation of Knowledge

Mahatma Gandhi once said that the only language the poor people understand is bread and butter. He was right with this observation. Poverty limits people’s thinking and endurance and makes them susceptible to manipulation and misguidance. That is why the African continent remains colonized even today. We are peasants. Imperialists know this fact and use it to make us eat our people. They know that the only language we understand is bread and butter. A few years ago, colonialists conquered our lands and stirred divisions among us. They separated relatives and friends. They created boundaries in a continent that people traversed with ease. That's why a Luo in Kenya calls himself a Kenyan while a Luo in Uganda calls himself a Ugandan. A Tutsi in Burundi calls himself Burundian, while a Tutsi in Rwanda calls himself Rwandese. There are Zulus and other similar tribes spread across southern Africa, yet they call themselves South Africans, Zambians, Zimbabweans, Malawians and much more. U...

Dear brothers, When you read this letter, I am already in Addis Ababa. Do not worry about me. I am fine and settling down well. I am in a new, focused country with an energetic leader who dares even the Pharaohs over the Nile waters. I am already in the arms of my empathetic lover, Edel, and her beautiful daughter, Beli, eager and ready to start a new life. I am in the country of Menelik II, the most outstanding African emperor who defeated the feared dictator and fascist Mussolini and his Italian armies on our sacred African soil at Adowa. I am in the nation of Gabrielle Selassie, the long-distance track legend. I am in the land of Ras Tafari MacKinnon, the prince and founder of the Ras Tafari religion. Being here reminds me of reggae music; that line, "the system does not cater for me." That is why I have left you, my dear brothers. That is why I have left my beloved daughter Emily back home. I cannot say that about her mother. She deserves my abandonment. It is good I have...

It is another dark day for the African continent. Another fallen hero. The last hero that we will ever see for years to come. The demise of President Mugabe reminds me of the painful losses we have suffered in the past. The death of President Ghaddafi. The end of President Sankara. The death of Patrice Lumumba. The demise of Kwame Nkurumah. True Pan-Africanists. True fighters for and liberators of their people. True defenders of the African continent. Visionaries. Legends. They were brought down by Western greed and capitalism. Tears roll down my eyes.    We have seen leaders come and go. Nobody has been brave enough to solve the land question in Africa as Mugabe did. It is disheartening that the African remains colonized today in his own country. Look at South Africa. Look at Kenya. The descendants of colonialists are the significant owners of lands in these countries. Yet, praises of Mandela and Jomo Kenyatta are sung everywhere- leaders who lacked the steel needed to free t...

It’s been a while, But I haven’t missed her. My flower, though miles away,  Is every step I take,  With me always, deep in my heart, mind, and soul's part. Peace I feel at, When I hear her voice sweet, telling she misses meat, my heart skips a beat, My nerves halt, For her alone. Our lone time, I hold and cuddle her, Like a pillow tight, I feel her warm curves, Her pink thighs, real soft and tender,  Her body, a site of wonder Her saliva, tastes like butter. . I’m afraid of dark, she changes that, When I’m with Pat, I can step out, she is my man, she is my sun, She lights my world, she provides life. It’s dark outside, stars up the sky, My mind, comes my lover’s eyes, Dark and white, like night and street light, I know I shall die, observing my lover’s eyes.

 Chwa found Bandia sitting on the concrete slabs that formed the stairway for the door leading into the house. Bandia's eyes were red, comprehensive, and lazy, indicating that he had taken some puffs of  weed . They greeted each other with a moderate meeting of fists, and then Chwa sat beside his brother. After staring at the empty vicinity momentarily, Chwa began, "Bandia, it's time I started taking  weed . I used to think I could pass this tough life with a sober mind, but now I feel it has stretched me to my limits. I feel downtrodden. I need something that can energize me. I need something that can make me active again. Nothing is happening in my life. It's as if someone buried my luck in an abyss." Bandia smiled sceptically at his innocent older brother. Then he responded, " weed  does not energize or activate people the way you think. It makes time pass quickly and abnormally indulges you in an activity. It makes farmers till without noticing this scorc...

 David sat on his sofa. Even though the cushions were made of a highly dense mattress, they felt hard, like a plain hardwood bench. He had been doing the same thing for several days; waking up early every morning, observing his phone and the email inbox painfully. He had done an interview a few days ago and was very hopeful that this much-needed job opportunity would be the breakthrough in his life. He was tired of living on dregs and crumbs. He needed change in his life.     The interview had gone well, at least, according to him. He had left the panel amazed and in awe. He had gathered a lot of writing, media, and literature knowledge that made him suitable for a writer or editor position in any reputable organization. However, the call was not coming.    In the past few days, he had made several calls to the interviewer. The receptionist kept telling him that the HR manager would call him. He desperately wanted to speak to the hiring manager. He wondered...

  One of the most remarkable works of Prof. Ngugi Wa Thiong’o is the novel titled " Weep Not, Child ." This novel traces the life of a young boy called Njoroge. The novel is set in colonial Kenya after the Second World War and a few years before Kenya's independence. Freedom fighters, especially from the Gikuyu tribe, have waged war against the colonial government. This novel depicts how innocent people, Njoroge being one of them, suffer from the endless struggle between the colonialists and the African freedom fighters. This article analyzes the themes present in “ Weep Not, Child .” Summary of the Plot The novel begins when Njoroge, a very aspiring young boy, gets the opportunity to go to school. As young as he is, Njoroge is aware of his demanding environment. His father is a labourer at Mr Howland's farm. His brother Kamau is an apprentice at Ng'ang' a's carpentry workshop. Njoroge’s eldest brother-Boro is a disillusioned young man damaged by his invol...