SWAMPY TALES

Our politicians should not avoid answering questions from their constituents about the kind of development we expect them to deliver.  We have observed this from the way they are avoiding availing themselves for public debate to tell the people what they are planning to do when elected. They would rather talk to the old and vulnerable village woman whose major concerns are short-term and easy to solve; her day’s bread.  No. Lunga is not a family kitchen where you can plan the menu and recipe alone. It is for all of us. We are all stakeholders and as such, we deserve to know what our leaders are planning to do for us. No one person has the monopoly of wisdom.   We must remind them that more and more of their constituents are getting enlightened as they graduate from schools and colleges. That is the essence of sending people to school. We are angry because we are hungry for development.  We want to inform our Politicians in Lunga that they will never again continue to operate the sa

“This person we are burying here today was so kind, generous and selfless.” This is a common eulogy line at the edge of a loved one’s tomb. True they deserve it! but did you let them know when they were alive so they can appreciate your gratitude? I do not want to be guilty of the same transgression of exalting the dead to one friend, among many, that have made my life what it is today. Believe me, there are many people you meet in life who contribute massively to your personal development. But there are exceptional ones too! This is a special thank you to a childhood friend, without whom I could not be capable of writing my story for public consumption. Mon ami , Enock Kaputula.  Enock, Melania Kaputula, Kunda, and Charity Londa having fun at Delaine Kaputula's Wedding !  In January 1981, I met Enock at Mungwi Secondary School. A brilliant, athletic, jumpy young boy, dark in complexion, always carrying with him a smiley happy face. I arrived, fresh in my brand-new navy

Fish er men are shrewd human beings too. Find us at our vocation, you will not be wrong to describe us as outliers. We can tell you the finest details about fishing, the movement of fish, birds, and animals in our locality. We can teach you a million things about the dos and don’ts of living amid water. But two things; and two things only, always leave us muddled. We have failed to comprehend their occurrence. Death in any form and the crocodile attack. Death as discussed  here , usually distress us in a way that the route to recovery has always been disastrous. I will not dwell on it in this post but will look at another enemy around us, the croc. Look, we know its habitat is within our vicinity. We know that it reproduces and probably has its social fellowship by the banks we walk every day. We also know, somehow, that it’s dangerous to human life. But we equally do not know much about it. Picture Credit: Shutterstock.com How can that be? You ask. Come along. Listen t

Tricky question. Death has overcome many human beings. Everywhere. Maybe because even when you read the bible, you are informed that “God has set the world in their heart (KJV), has even put eternity in their heart (NWT), has planted eternity in the human heart (ESV)." Even translators had to figure out the right meaning of the original Hebrew word “Olam,” which means eternity, or darkness, depending on the context. Is it any wonder that many people all over the world fail to come to terms with death? In trying to understand it, people in my village have usually turned to supernatural sources such as divination. And all sorts of crooks, manipulators, and downright conmen have taken advantage of the “eternity in the human heart’’ to earn a living. They have misled communities into believing that there’s no such thing as an accident, natural death, or sickness. They will always point at a malicious causer to every illness, incident, accident, and death, regardless of the circums

Each day is someone’s birthday. And this day is celebrated by many for the phenomenal event to either give thanks to parents, God or just to acknowledge the fact that they were born. Some of these birthdays coincide not only with good luck but with terrible happenings. My birthday is such a one! Don’t judge me wrongly, Pal, unforeseen circumstances do happen to everyone. That day I opened my small eyes to a dazzle of light on the earth, to feel the temperature outside another human being, to gulp some oxygen through my own narrow nostrils, smell natural and artificial fragrances for the first time, and of course, announce my triumphant arrival by way of an askari loud cry; I never even knew that on that same day, six decades ago, somewhere within the boundaries of a British Protectorate called Northern Rhodesia, where I was being dandled by an excited group of women, a white settler had died of lion wounds. Picture Credit:  Elie Khoury To tell you the truth, I’ve never seen a lion at

    If you can answer this question honestly, then you will not be afraid to answer others who may want to know more about you by posing the question, “Who are you?” Everyone has a story. In truthfully telling that story is embedded the exact characteristics that define them. If you do not tell your story, others will; and usually, you will not completely be happy with stories told about you by strangers.   This is true about an individual, family, race, or tribe.  For a long time, many people have told stories of the Unga people of Bangweulu swamps. Some of them it is because they have stayed with us for some time, some have visited for a short time, some have inquired, or formally, did some research about the tribe. Others have been in the area because duty called and wrote what they heard and saw. The fact that they are not Baunga, some of their stories are biased, based on opinion, events of the moment, and skewed judgment. Of course, some agree that little is known about the Baun

Some people shouldn’t have to die. How are we expected to cope with the death of those who were regarded in different ways by different people? How do we draft their obituary?   I regarded Tresphore Kunda Pintu as my Shepherd, Father, Teacher, Counselor, and Son. Late Tresphore Pintu with son Fr. T. Pintu Yes, someone I had wanted to take my cue from. But now, death has concealed him under its bottomless pit with no regard to the emotions of surviving loved ones.   While the Catholic fraternity was just coming to terms with the loss of its Bishop in Monze and two well-known Fathers, Charles Chilinda and Muyenga from St. Ignatius Parish in Lusaka, Lunga was trying to absorb the shock of losing its longest-serving Catechist, Tresphore Kunda Pintu, aka TKP who was pronounced dead at Samfya District Hospital on the evening of Saturday 23rd January 2021 at 20:35 hours.    Thirteen years after he drew the curtain on his long and eminent career in 2000, his health started to fai