Damaged goods people

Children, in many African and other third world countries grew up with warriors or militant leaders as role models. They are damaged goods in any society. They can only envisage a struggle for survival. For many of them the notion of fighting for freedom became their life’s purpose. In some cases, as little children they could strip and name the different components of a gun before they could recite the ABC.

Their childhood dreams were to possess real guns and when they grew up and joined a gang or a militant group, the guns they dreamed about just got bigger and more powerful. What is the purpose of possessing a gun, if they did not have an enemy to fight, so they made enemies? The object was to kill real people.

Some of these damaged children managed to work themselves up to leading rolls. Some became ministers of parliaments and other even gained authority to lead nations.
They soon declared enemies so that they could strengthen their armies and produce bigger guns and faster planes. The toys of war exceeded their wildest imaginations. They see not the suffering and hunger of their people while they sat behind closed doors strategising their next move on the enemy.

Some even tried to unite the continent in one big army against the rest of the world. Damaged goods they are, creating more damaged children so that the wars can continue.

We all need to find ways of removing the imprint of war making, racism and division from the African DNA

The citizens of Africa need to heal their inner child. Africa needs to have positive roll models and positive goals.

African people need to hate the gun and see it as an instrument of poverty and suffering. They need to learn to focus on unity, rejuvenation of the land, the prosperity of the community and above all they need to strive towards PEACE..

Of wat praat ek alles

Ag man! Dis lekker in die Army,

Original post from the white-granny blog

When I lived in Australia, my father used to send me some Afrikaans tapes which he recorded from the radio.
When I worked the 9-5 shift the traffic from our home was first gear and stop all the way to work.
A 10 min journey took an hour.
It was the best time.
I used to make flask of coffee. Put my vehicle in first gear and drove it like an automatic car.
No gear changes. It was a straight road so there was no need to turn. Just stop and start.

I rolled down the windows (No crime in Brisbane in those days)
Poured my coffee;
Spread the newspaper over the steering wheel. (No cell phones back then)
Then I turned the tape recorder on and listened to my Afrikaans songs while I read the newspaper and drank my coffee ……… and drive.

Here is one of those songs from Chris Blignaut (I think). I am not 100% sure of the words.

I shall have to scratch my old Chris Blignaut tape out somewhere.

—————————————————————-

Ag man! Dis lekker in die Army,
van Tempie tot Grootfontein!
In ‘n ratel op Otavi,
of hoog in ‘n bos aeroplane.
‘n Rang wil ek nie dra nie,
net ‘n R1 hier styf langs my sy.
Ag man, dis lekker in die army,
en ‘n troepie die wil ek graag bly.

Een Woensdag het ek ge A-wol
Die rugby offisier was vies
toe laat hy my pale toe leapard crawl
en ek word vir die DB gekies
‘n rang wil ek nie dra nie
net ‘n R1 styf teen my sy
Ag man dis lekker in die Army
net’n troepie wil ek graag bly

As jy van die kos dalk siek word,
wat jy innie army kry.
Wees bly dat jy daarvoor betaal word,
hulle moemit jou danger-pay.
Ek spaar dit en vergeet dit,
in ‘n bank en daar lê dit doodstil.
En as ek uit ge-clear het
oop ek wat ek begeer het,
dis ‘n ding wat hier onder my brul.

Koor
Ag man! Dis lekker in die Army,
van Tempie tot Grootfontein!
In ‘n ratel op Otavi,
of hoog in ‘n bos aeroplane.
‘n Rang wil ek nie dra nie,
net ‘n R1 hier styf langs my sy.
Ag man, dis lekker in die army,
en ‘n troepie die wil ek graag bly.
As my pa wil dan sal ek hier bly!

---------------------------

The song in this post is about voluntary army training in order to protect the country against terrorism.

The thought that comes to mind is that many things that is normal during war time, becomes crime during peace time.

The enemies of war become your friends of tomorrow.

So why do people not just skip the fighting and resolve their differences.

At least you will have more chance of living out your life to the full.

Of wat praat ek alles?

Dear Mr. President,

Dear Mr. President, (Original post from http://grannypolitics.iblog.co.za/)
It is still a freezing cold winter morning outside.

It is early still. The time that people leave their homes to go to work.
A woman walks past my window. She looks like someone’s mother.
Her skin is drawn and her young face is wrinkled like that of a woman twenty years her senior.
She is thin. Her legs are bare and her bare feet are inside thin damp shoes. A thin sarong (for a skirt) covers the lower half of her body. A worn, thin, long sleeved faded sweater covers her upper half.
Under her arm she clutches a bag that met its last owner.
She walks as brisk as she can because it keeps her body warm so she can not feel the cold …….
So she can not feel her tummy aching for food. So she can not remember sending her children off to school without something to eat or drink this morning.
Her eyes scan the houses for one that looks friendly. One that may give her a job this morning.

The vision of getting some money to buy soup bones, maze, bread and beans to prepare a meal for her family tonight keeps her going. She can see her children filling their tummies and laugh a joke …… and dream about a better tomorrow. The one president Zuma promised.

She disappeared down the road. I reach out for my cup of tea and wonder what I would put on my toast this morning, honey or marmalade.

Somewhere far away, our country’s leaders are recovering from indigestion brought about from the rich breakfast they just indulged in. They have a full schedule. Many important decisions to make. There are the issues of the mines, the strikers, the economy and the upcoming summit. Yes, there are lots to deal with before lunch.

See how many days until
We reach our goal to MAKE POVERTY HISTORY by 2015

(http://sites.google.com/site/unityinafrica/)

Of wat praat ek alles

Bin People

The bin people - Cape Town suburb.10-06-2009

The activity at the garbage bins is a social indicator for a region.

No activity would mean that the poverty needs of a community are being met.

Today is bin-day. (Wednesdays is the day that we all one wheel our wheelie-bins outside onto our driveways in readiness for the garbage disposal truck.)
They have a golden rule: "whatever is not inside the bin will not be collected" So food, clothing or newspapers must be put inside the bin for the poorest of the poor to collect before the truck arrives.
It is a weekly ritual in our neighborhood.
The lucky organized bin-scavengers come in groups of two or more and neatly pack their shopping trolleys. They stack the trolley neatly and tightly to fit as much recyclable into it as they can. Their dedication to the job is the same as with any other job. This is their living.
Then you have the newcomers. They are not organized yet. The lucky ones carry rug sacks but the very new, Zimbabweans and other newcomers to the area, just have plastic shopping bags. Most of them are looking for food.
There is another brand of the rug sack brigade that has a criminal intent. They look for documents and ID papers.

I heard the shopping trolleys being pushed down the road very early. Were they the early-birds who wanted to catch the best recyclables? --- Or was it the house breakers making for the taxi rank to get to the buyers early?

Both sound the same
They both use shopping trolleys. (Theft of a shopping trolley in South Africa is regarded as a human right.) Stolen shopping trolleys are paid for by the consumer.

I have noticed more bin-scavengers with rug-sacks and very few trolleys this last month.
I have seen more people scratching the bins for food, but today it is very quiet in our street.
Yesterday I saw a woman sweeping the street. It was unusual, because there was not much rubbish in the gutters.

Last week there were a few people looking for newspapers and the box of newspapers I put into my bin was quickly snapped up.
.
I have not seen the glass collectors for a while.
I placed a box full of newspapers on top of my bin this morning, but no-one was interested.
I also put two cracked fish tanks next to the bin for the glass collectors, but it did not draw any interest.

Are the workers at the municipal offices waiting for community work opportunities?
Is the government succeeding in providing work?

The bin people and those hopefuls at the corners of the streets will be the measurement of how well the government fulfills its promise.


Of wat praat ek alles

Ladies turn

Today I do not have one political opinion in my head.
Ziltz!

• COPE IS COPING

• THE "ANC" IS "LOOK & SEE" what their next blocking move is going to be.

• The lady politicians are sitting on the sideline and waiting for the boys to kill themselves OR each other.

So everything is hunky dory in "The Days of Our Lives" in the live South African political soapy.

We are starting to get more Google hits than Mugabe.

Perhaps the girls should group together and form one strong united party with a strong name. They should have a good chance of winning the election as one team. A name like TOP should do it "The One Party"

Of wat praat ek alles.

Are we eating Africa?

It is a scorcher today, here in Cape Town.

When I suggested to my husband that the least the conservationists in the area could do was to put monitors on duty to keep people and dogs away from the Oystercatchers, that are in their breeding season, here on our beaches. His reply was: "Wat jy waar gaan kry? "(*1) He said that the conservationists are spread too thinly and the other workers would not work over the weekends.

Perhaps we should be grateful that this is Blaauwberg and not Zimbabwe.

In Zimbabwe those little Oystercatcher eggies and chicks would have looked very inviting on the breakfast frying pan, especially if the Oystercatcher was lying next to it. People would kill for such a feast. When one's own life is endangered by starvation; Who cares about the life of a bird?

Could you imaging what would happen if the resource mismanagement strategies from Zimbabwe has a domino effect in other African nations?

If the Armageddon and a global meltdown is not upon us, could you imagine a "heaven on earth" in first world countries with the balancing factor of "hell on earth" in Africa?

Could "Die geween en die kners van tande(*2)" that the Bible predicts, run concurrently with the "Heaven on earth" which is also mentioned in the same scripture?

If we eat, tread on, and build on everything that makes Africa unique, is it possible that Africa will in the, not so distant, future, become a cesspool of disease, crime and dust with no clean water or food?

Already the symbol of the "African lion" and "the wildlife paradise in Africa" is being replaced by the image of dying babies suckling from empty breasts with flies looking for a bit of moisture in their eyes and on their dry, cracking lips.

All African leaders should study what is happening in Zimbabwe and what was the turning point for this prosperous country, and then make sure it does not happen on their own turf.

One cannot blame the first world and past inhumanities any more. We need to look at recent history and blame ourselves. The first world countries poured multi-billions into Africa and created quite a number of billionaires, but how much of that money filtered down to the people it was intended for?

The African leaders have never been so rich and the people never so poor.

Even during the days of slavery, most people had food on the table and many more ate very well.

Translation: Afrikaans to English.

*¹(Wat jy waar kry? - where would they come from?)

*²(Geween en kners van tande - Weeping and grinding of the teeth)

Most people in South Africa are bilingual and mix expressions from two or three languages in one sentence. Perhaps this is the beginning of a new South African language. A rainbow nation lingo.

Rotten apples no food for a nation Sunday

2008 October 19

My eyes caught the television screen. The sound was off so I noticed the imagery rather than listen to the words behind the film.

I watch the wedding preparations of a wealthy African couple. The glamour and glitz is something like from a fairy tail. It must have cost millions.

I do not know who got married, on this day, and I do not want to know.

A message came clear to me. Here is an African couple that can spend the amount of money, in a few hours, which could have been housing and feeding a whole township of homeless for more than a month. There must be rot in the apple of African society if the gap between rich and poor is so great.

Does the money that is being poured into Africa, to make poverty history, reaching the poor, or making them even poorer.

Does BEE empower the unemployed, or just creating a different, even bigger group of unemployed?

If I were that couple, whoever they are, I would not be proud of spending that much money, even for the biggest day of my life. One can go overboard if one considers the suffering of other.

Then again, if I turned the sound of the television set on, I may have felt different. However - the argument stands.