When Silence Is Not Timidity and Roaring Not Bravery

T

here is a story of a Mother Kite and her daughter told in Things Fall Apart by Chinua Achebe.It goes on like this.

Mother Kite once sent her daughter to bring food. She went, and brought back a duckling.
“You have done very well,” said Mother Kite to her daughter, “but tell me, what did the mother of this duckling say when you swooped and carried its child away?”
“It said nothing,” replied the young kite. “It just walked away.”
“You must return the duckling,” said Mother Kite. “There is something ominous behind the silence.”
And so Daughter Kite returned the duckling and took a chick instead.
“What did the mother of thick do?” asked the old kite.
“It cried and raved and cursed me,” said the young kite.
“Then we can eat the chick,” said her mother. “There is nothing to fear from someone who shouts.”

Mother Kite had at least a daughter to care. It may not have been against the law of nature when she sent her child to do what a bird of prey does well. But she was intelligent enough not to ignore the sense of foreboding that were to come even if there was no a deafening shout anywhere around. Had our leaders- who steal a loaf of stale bread from the starved child while they have a basket full of fresh brioches- had this knowledge, had they known what they do is against the law of nature, not because to oppress the weak is naturally wrong, but simply because to take what you do not need, to consume in excess is toxic to oneself, they would not have swallowed everything they chewed. Perhaps, if they had been a little bit sophisticated, they would not have snatched the kid his bread; had they been a little more tenderhearted, they would have shared one of their brioches with him.

But who knows? They might have thought all of these stuffs ahead. They say you cannot dispute the fact that the kid did not have strong teeth to bite the stale bread. They had to take it just to help him with the same reasoning they tell us they are the only hopes- The Great Nation Hopes- while they silenced whoever hoped and spoke it loud. And they ask yet, where is the challenger? Those who gather the crumbs from under their feet roar for they would not have the chance if they lived in a just world.

Smart they are not, for they ignored a matchstick is enough to burn oil soaked wet logs. Prudent they are not, for they do not rule with a just advice. They should know that silence is not always timidity. It has a voice. One surely can discern the dissatisfaction through it. However, it is up to the ears and the heart. But as of the ducks, I pray to you to know these ones are not Mother Kite. They take our ducklings if we remain silent, if they don’t do that they surely take their future. Believe me, I have been a duck-well until recently.

የስደተኛው ህጻን ጸሎት

ሰንዱቅ አልጠይቅ ብር የተሞላ
ሱሪም አልፈልግ ከሀር የተሰራ
ይቅርብኝ 'ልልታችሁ ይቀመጥ ለኋላ
ግና...
ስጡኝ መሬት 'ትብቴን ምቀብርበት
ስጡኝ አገር እንድኖር ሣላፍር

እኔም አይደለሁ...

የማር የወለላ የጥፍጥና ገንቦ ተነግሮኝ መሆንሽ
አንዳች ጭምብል ሳይኖር
ማር እቆርጥ ብዬ ብጠጋ ከቀፎሽ
እባጭ ፊቴን ሞልቶት ሸሸሁ ከሠፈርሽ::
አንዴ ከመቅመሴ ከወለላ ማርሽ
ሰው ፊት እንዳልቀርብ
ከውስጥ የመሠጉ ነድፈውኝ ንቦችሽ::

The Kids are not alright

I

t is too depressing when you see that we live in the era of tabloid lifestyle- a lifestyle without philosophy and substance. Preachers preaching about money and boasting about their mansion and limousine, people going on television to sell their personality- a personality molded by others, nothing original. Everybody copycatting that lifestyle- and somebody who shuns it- thrown to the corner and patronized.

Everything is commercial. I wish I could travel back to the sixties and seventies. I wish I could buy a ticket for songs with deep message. Where is that all now? Every song about money and sex, every book with a title "How to..." as if there is a simple remedy to solve every question or as if we all are from the same cast. We are fed stories about someone's embarrassing act, tickets he was served, his sexuality or marriage failure. We know about his previous night even before he gets over the hangover and learns whatsoever happened to him. Even those deceased are not spared. If you have a page on Wikipedia, know that your bedroom story is also included.

As Shelley Berman put it beautifully "As a culture I see us as presently deprived of subtleties. The music is loud, the anger is elevated, sex seems lacking in sweetness and privacy."

I think we are going dumber and dumber as what we read, we listen and watch is anything but with substance. We don't know that we love or support, hate or admonish. We are not sure about what we believe, and everything we say we know is superficial.

The system has made us indifferent to knowledge much less reactive to a challenge. Our dialogues are about the pockets of others, or about their bling and swag or who is gay, who is straight. We don't care about issues we say we care. The Future, Racism, Sexism, Poverty, Liberty, Equality? No we don't care about all these stuffs. We just avoid all these topics. And if we somehow talk about them, we don't reason-we just use a vulgar language to tell it. We swarm a provoking statement from someone with more hateful comments. Our skin is thinner than our fathers', our scope much shorter.

It is not a coincidence that now we hear many in the showbiz business confessing that they suffer from bipolar disorder. If we continue like this- I am afraid- we will end up LITERALLY slaves to those who are feeding us this lifestyle while they indeed keep abhorrence towards it. Perhaps, it is that either I am melancholic or getting older.

Love In The Woods

Last time I told you that at least a couple were my envy in AWTI.In fact, there were a lot of good couples. You would see some in Zebra frequently, or having a walk in the evening. While you are in Space,You would be no more absorbed in what you read being interrupted with frequent giggles from some chicks whose heart is taken aby may be your dormmate, to be honest these chuckling sounds were sometimes far more disturbing than those Space Vampires, The Mosquitoes
But for me, there were a couple. I pass by the Beg Tera, I see the boy, I greet him. I finish taking shower, and return to my dorm, on my way I see this boy again but this time with his girl. I greet them and pass. I get dressed, come back to Beg Tera, oh man, while I hold my own, I will see that "Woret Yaldasesew Fikrachin". The boy hugging his girl, drinking from that Beso, greets me again but this time me and, you know,...whatever.That does not last long, 10:00pm the second phase takes place.

Well at 10:00pm you might not see that couple sharing Beso...You rather hear the girl yelling, the boy answering back, and then the girl lunging at him, and then the worst..That is why I say, This time, they are no more a couple. But every single time I said this, they proved me wrong. I left AWTI before I had one chance to prove myself right, lol . But the point is that, this couple was natural, was authentic, and of course pure Ethiopian-way couple.

Something to Share

You had probably parents who told you the whole eighteen years of your life how special you are, that nobody is like you! There is always at least a little shame when you fail to get what makes you special except the emptiness deep inside your heart. Emptiness that you don't see in your surrounding, which makes you somewhat static in the dynamic world. But all of a sudden you start to grin as that emptiness-the only resource you have- begins to fill your environment. Perhaps you are laughing because you shared something, probably everything you have, or perhaps because you are now less emptier and them-more emptier. But the question is do they laugh with you? Do they like the taste of emptiness?

Invictus

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll.
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.