October 2015 Events and all that: Part 1 - 2016 budgets

I didn’t put up anything on my blog the entire month of October and the reason is simply that I don’t want to make this blogsite one dimensional – and definitely not in the dimension of always discussing politics. It’s not a good direction and I will try not to move in that direction.

However, current events in the country make it difficult for politics and everything related to it to stay away from my mind. This blog site was born for me to speak what’s on my mind at all times and hey, here is what has been on my mind which I tried to shelve away without blogging throughout October. I will start with the budget presentation to parliament by Finance minister Alexander Chikwanda on 9^th October 2015 for the reason that it is the least political;

Part I: 2016 Budget Speech:

The theme of the 2016 national budget is; Fiscal consolidation to safeguard our past achievements and secure a prosperous future for all. The budget presented to parliament by finance minister Alexander B. Chikwanda indicates that the Zambian government proposes to spend K53.14 billion financed by domestic revenue and grants from donors. K42.11 billion of this will be from domestic revenue and K550 million kwacha grants from donors.

2016 will represent a 13.8% budgetary increase from K46.7 billion in 2015. The K53.14 billion represents 25.8% of Gross Domestic Product (GDP).

Macroeconomic objectives for 2016 include:

·         Achieve annual real GDP growth rate of 5.0%.

·         Increase domestic revenue mobilisation to at least 20.4% of GDP, from 18.1% of GDP projected in 2015.

·         Reduce budget deficit to 3.8% of GDP, from 6.9% of GDP projected in 2015.

·         Limit domestic borrowing to 1.2% of GDP.

·         Maintain single digit inflation at no more than 7.7%.

·         Accelerate the diversification of the economy, particularly towards tourism, energy, agriculture and agro processing.

·         Maintain international reserves at no less than 4 months of imports cover.

·         Create employment opportunities through accelerated implementation of programmes such as the industrialisation and job creation strategy and the youth empowerment action plan.

Debt policy:

•  Significantly limit domestic borrowing
• Focus on accessing external financing with lower interest rates and loner repayment periods.
• Strengthen project appraisal system processes so as to ensure that borrowing is directed to projects with high returns.
• Establish a sinking fund for the purpose of redeeming the euro bonds issued in the international capital market.

Fiscal policy:

• Fiscal deficit in 2016 projected to reduce to 3.8% of GDP.
• Consolidate fiscal position so that Government expenditure is primarily financed from domestic revenue.
• Reduced allocations for non-core recurrent allocations by more than 50%.
• Put measure to enhance domestic revenue mobilisation.
• Engage private sector in identifying and appraising projects which are commercially viable in order to attract private financing.

Public Financial Management:

• Planning and budgeting bill aimed at integrating planning and budgeting will be presented to parliament.
• Public finance act being reviewed to foster and improve accountability and transparency in the management of public resources.
• Implementation of the pilot output based budget underway.
• Commenced the operationalization of the Treasury Single Account to enhance cash management.

My view… my thoughts…

Usually I have to read through the budget speech at the very least four times before I voice out any opinion on its content. I have also made it a point in recent years (last two years to be specific) to dedicate a blog post gauging the budget speech and vetting out my expectations as well as pointing out the significant changes to the previous budget. Usually these posts will be put up on the blog in January when implementation of 99% of the pronouncements from the speech in parliament take effect.

This blogpost however, will not wait for January 2016 or even the end of March when the first quarter of the budgetary cycle comes to an end. I say so because I feel finance minister Chikwanda made one serious mistake in his budget presentation speech – he omitted the word austerity measures.

Looking at the budget deficit of 6.9% projected in 2015 and I presume between 8-10% will be achieved by the time the year ends, the government needed to be tough on expenditure for the 2016 term. This will mean no unnecessary costly travels abroad and within the country for government officials starting with the president and his ministers all the way through the permanent secretaries and all his technocrats. The 3.8% budget deficit projection is still a big ask and I doubt Mr Chikwanda will achieve that in 2016.

The major omission in Mr Chikwanda’s address remains the policy direction towards austerity measures especially in government spending. The free fall of the kwacha in 2015 has made the repayments on the domestic and foreign debts acquired, a lot more expensive than would have been to service had the currency been stable. This will create more pressure on the economy, coupled with rising cost of commodities. For this reason, the projected annual inflation target of 7.7% is likely not to be achievable. Inflation in 2016 will most likely hit double digits instead.

These are the realities which I believe Mr Chikwanda should have prepared the nation for in 2016. The power deficit that the country is currently experiencing will also affect revenue collection for the treasury owing to the fact that most companies are not operating at 100% and with the low capacity utilisation will come a loss of benefits of economies of scale and consequent reduction in revenue and profits. Reduction in production volumes will directly lead to a reduction in revenue from taxes like VAT and Excise duty on items like clear beer and others. 

My take on Mr Chikwanda’s speech is that he needed to spell out to the nation that 2016 will be a year where the ministry of finance will with help from the auditor general’s office implement and police serious austerity measures. He needed to tell the nation that government controlling officers would ensure that only important trips would be undertaken by government workers. He needed to spell out that there would be no travelling to Siavonga or Livingstone for a workshop to discuss how the 2016 budget for each ministry and department would be spent – when funding is availed.

This would have spurred a similar trickle-down effect on our individual homes to realise that we need to cut on spending, times will not be the same in 2016. This is not the broken record of ‘boma itiyanganepo’, but I do believe a government has the responsibility to guide, inspire and change the direction of a nation that is in distress. History is not short of examples of charismatic leaders who stood up and got counted when their nation was depressed. Franklin D Roosevelt’s first Inaugural Speech on March 4, 1933 when the American economy was in deep trouble comes to mind.

I know for sure that the Zambian government has many highly qualified and experienced technocrats to guide the politicians. Unfortunately some of these politicians are too arrogant to listen to wise counsel so they dig a deep grave of economic turmoil which unfortunately affects the ordinary citizens more. To start with, the government was warned against excessive borrowing and excessive expenditure which was not matched by ZRA revenue collections. In addition, the government has been advised against excessive travel for ministers in and outside the country. The results of this are simple and deadly – budget deficits which are followed by more borrowing. This borrowing for consumption is not in any way sustainable.

There is no need to get a Eurobond to finance a budget deficit. Why not just cut expenditure to ensure no deficit is created in the first place? How will we finance our budget in 2017 since our credit worthiness is moving towards negative? What will we do in 2022 when we have to start paying back the euro bonds? For me Mr Chikwanda really missed the opportunity when he omitted the word austerity in his budget speech. He needed to start preparing the nation for hard times of sacrifice. The trade unions needed to prepare themselves and their members that 2016 would not see any major salary increments.

I know he has spoken on a few forums where he says ministers need to avoid unnecessary travels. This at least is what we expect. It just needs to be much louder and pronounced all the time and proof of implementation of these pronouncements should be seen. The minister may have deliberately or by error, omitted the word austerity in his budget speech, but this is what Zambia will need in 2016 starting from household level all the way to the national level.

Make no mistake, 2016 will be a difficulty year. Prudent financial management will be key in making sure that we sail through the storm that 2016 promises to be. It will be a year to tighten belts at individual, community, and national levels.

Since this post has taken close to two months from the day it was written to the day it was posted, a lot of things may have changed. One notable change was the press conference held by President Edgar Lungu at which he outlined the economic path for the country and pronounced a number of measures for cutting down government expenditure. However I decided to still go ahead and post this blog because so far, the actions taken do not correlate to the pronouncements made at that press conference. As the late renowned soccer commentator Dennis Liwewe would say, “let us wait and see.”

Survive first, there after contribute positively!

I recently wrote a piece titled just-random-thoughts and in my first random thought of that piece, I was saying goodbye to colleagues and the organisation I had been with for 8 years. Although I published that farewell message on this blog, there is something else I wrote down but never posted on here on this blog. This was what I thought then, as being the five points that enable someone to survive in an organisation for as long as I had done and rise through the ranks.

Looking back in retrospect, this is needed even more when you go to a new organisation and you need to find your feet in it. The truth is that you need to survive first in a new environment then you contribute fully. It is what happens between this ‘survival first’ phase that determines how you will be in your new environment.

Over the weekend as I was looking for something on my Chromebook I stumbled upon the writings of the five points and they have been on my mind since. Well, here are the five points below, as I share my thoughts this week:

1. Never act like you know it all even when you do. Pay careful attention to everything other people say and do, you could be undergoing a learning process everyday even if it's in a process or field you are very familiar in. You never know when you learn something new.
2. Never be ashamed to learn from people lower than you. Clothe yourself with humility in any learning process and do not use looks to judge who you can learn from. Also avoid using people’s designations to create a list of people you think you can learn from, you will learn twice as much from subordinates than you will from the boss. Never be ashamed to learn from that guy who makes tea, he knows the ropes way better and in most cases has coincidentally been there long enough.
3. Never think you are too smart or too educated to do certain jobs or tasks. If the boss directs you to do some clerical work like going to pick printouts from the printer room on a different floor or taking documents for signing to other managers, do not feel offended but do it with all your heart. A lot of people get known in this way otherwise they’d just be that anonymous guy behind a desk. It is easy for those who do the ‘donkey’ work to get noticed than those who just work hard. The point is, take no offence in anything you are given to do.
4. Never put individual gratification first, but put the team’s needs ahead. A team is more than a group of people who work together. A high performing team is a group of people who share a common vision and goal by collaborating and challenging each other as well as holding each other accountable, to achieve outstanding results. But don’t forget to challenge yourself to contribute extra as an individual, for the benefit of the team as a whole. This makes guarantees your presence on the team, or the team may not need you if they can do without your input.
5. Never be naive, Always be smart. Organisations are made up of people and there are a lot of iniquitous human beings out there. 

Mourn your own! #Parisattacks

The past week I have seen and heard complaints mainly from Africans, regarding the western media’s coverage of the Paris terrorist attacks. The main complaint is that while there are attacks in other parts of the world every day, those are not widely covered hence giving the impression that it is only European and American lives that matter. The accusation was also thrown at Facebook for reacting to the Paris attacks by activating a feature that made people change their profile picture shaded by the French flag while this never happens anywhere else.

Some Zambians are up in arms against their fellows who have shown solidarity with the French people and accusing them of all sorts of things ranging from worshipers of colonialists to hypocrites who do not do the same when fellow Africans are killed.

My view… my thoughts…

My take is simply that everyone has the liberty to mourn, show solidarity with whoever they wish. This accusation that the western media is giving too much coverage to events in Europe and Americas at the expense of other places is baseless really. Why do I say so?, BBC is a European media house with headquarters just across Paris to the English Channel. These are their neighbours, and relatives for God’s sake. BBC will run with that story for days and I will not find any offence in that.

The same goes for CNN. France has been a big ally of America and I assume the Americans feel closer to the French people than they do say the people of Chad or Gambia. So CNN will cover the story in Paris as much. These are their stories. I know for sure that AlJazeera does cover a lot of stories from the Middle East and generally the Arab world, these are also their stories. I also know that on Thursday 12^th November there was also a terrorist attack in Beirut, Lebanon and this was widely covered by Aljazeera and many other news stations in the region even way after the Friday November 13 attacks in Paris.

In short, we should not cry for BBC, CNN or whoever to cover our stories here in Africa as much as they do their own stories. It won’t happen. Blood is thicker than water. Nothing stops us from covering our own stories for days on end. Nothing stops us Africans to design a social media platform the type of Facebook where we will change our profile pictures to the green and white flag of Nigeria every time Boko Haram strike.

South Africa has E-NCA channel and they do cover a lot of the African stories and of course they will go days on end to cover their own South African stories. I watch E-NCA channel quite a lot and I know at times it bothers my office mate who asks if we live in South Africa for us to be watching South African news all the time. Well, I do change to watch TV2 News which comes every two hours or so, particularly watching the 10hrs and 12 hours news. Besides I relate to stories from South Africa more than I do stories from say Atlanta Georgia. Hence I watch more of E-NCA than I do CNN or BBC.

Recently the E-NCA channel has been covering the #feesmustfall student protests and I have the feeling this is what is also going on in my country so it is closer to home. It’s just last year when a student committed suicide at the University of Zambia after being denied a bursary and the students rioted. That life is more important to us Zambians than it should be to CNN so I won’t stress if CNN doesn’t cover that. ZNBC and all the other media outlets should be in the fore-front to cover that. This is how we will make our stories heard (edit to read funerals too). CNN will be busy covering stories closer to Atlanta and other places from within America and their allies.

The irony in all these complaints against CNN, BBC, SKY and Facebook giving too much attention to the Paris terrorist attack is that, there have been no complaints against the rumour (I haven’t heard it on the news yet, except social media) that Kenneth Maduma has been fired from ZNBC for airing a clip of the police brutally beating up Copperbelt University students who on independence day protested against the continued closure of CBU. It is Ironic that we want to censor our own stories but we want the west to cover our stories. Which stories do we want them to cover? We have hidden our stories.

On 14 January 2010 the Zambia police shot at a group of youths who had gathered in Mongu to be enlightened on the ever contentious issue of the Barotse 1964 agreement. I can say that story was also censored except the post newspaper that gave it a lot of coverage. These are our stories. Let’s tell them. The four or five lives we lost in Mongu are important too. Let’s ask questions why these un-armed youth were shot at. Let’s ask what happened to the officers who pulled the respective Kalashnikov triggers. Let’s ask what happened to the person that ordered the police to carry live ammunition to a gathering of youths irrespective of the motive of their gathering.

Alas we have shelved our stories and even censored them, yet we want to climb the mountain top and question BBC for ‘too much’ coverage of an attack in Paris. It is preposterous. Clearly those that run our media houses and their minions want to use them as propaganda machines and these people are void of any morality and elementary ethics that are the bedrock of professional journalism. This is why our stories are not told. It is not the fault of the BBC.

The other week social media was at it again blaming BBC and Bloomberg for the way they covered the National day for prayer fasting & reconciliation. The accusation came after the respective international media organisations reported that the Zambian government had failed to deal with the local currency which had been in free fall and thus decided to seek divine intervention instead.

Well, we didn’t need the BBC to spell to us what the prayers were all about. It is what the government leaders said. Even though the theme of the prayer day had reconciliation somewhere in the sentence, reconciliation itself was highly conspicuous by its absence before, during and after the prayers. What we were all told was prayers for the currency and the economy. Regrettably some sections of our society chose to disparage the BBC and Bloomberg for their accurate reporting. We can go ahead and promote the kind of copy and paste journalism that we do best in Africa and more so in Zambia, but we shouldn’t blame those that report as they see things without any influence.

We should not always find other people to blame when we haven’t done what we are supposed to do ourselves. Clearly we need to learn to mourn our own. Nobody will mourn us if we don’t mourn ourselves and our loved ones. We can’t always blame other people when we haven’t done our part.

The simple rule of life should be that once you bear children you should be responsible for their welfare and nobody else. Of course in Africa the main argument against this is that we should embrace the extended family. I agree because I am a product of the extended family system. However, my simple contention is that the extended family system should apply bringing us together and not help us duck our responsibilities. For instance, one cannot bear eight children and expect the extended family system to take over the welfare of those children.

On the other hand, if one has 12 children that one is taking care of and meeting all their needs, and such a person dies, then and only then, the time the extended family should come into play. I know my stance may not be a popular position to take considering the circumstances of our relationships in Africa and our expectations of the extended family system. However, as long as we live, we should be responsible for our own children. We shouldn’t expect too much from others. When someone lends a helping hand to us in whatever form, we should be thankful but should also know that they are not obliged to give us that helping hand.

We are responsible for our own units starting with immediate family and then the bigger extended family of friends and neighbours, all the way to a nation and extending to the continent and finally the entire globe and all of humanity. 

In short, we should do more for ourselves before we expect other people to do something for us. This attitude must extend to sad situations like death and funerals. The one who is in mourning is the one who has lost a loved one. If the neighbor joins us in mourning, then we should appreciate their action to mourn with us and consoling us. If they don’t mourn and console us, there should be no offence taken.

The shitty thing about reading the wrong books!

I have a few people I know who teach or have taught English literature and I know for sure that either of them would shriek at me if they heard what I was up to this past August School holiday. Well I had very limited options to dodge the kind of misdemeanor I was up to.

To cut the long story short, it turns out that I have a niece in her grade 11 and it’s always a pleasure to have her at my home during the school holiday. Every time she is at my home, she will ask me question about current affairs and I will give her answers from my fingertips. It seems this has given her the impression that her uncle is ‘extremely knowledgeable’. First it was an arithmetic question and luckily I was able to solve the question with relative ease. Being the uncle who at times is fond of a little bit of some show off to his nieces and nephews, I went further to illustrate and give her tips on that particular topic. That was the biggest mistake.

Accordingly, one day she comes to where I was sitting and starts to ask me questions about Animal farm the 1950’s political satire novel by George Orwell. She mentions the book is part of their English literature syllabus. I have read the book a couple of times, but not recently. As a matter of fact I first read the book when I was probably in my sixth or seventh grade. The most unfortunate thing is that I never took English literature as a subject at school. I have no clue what teachers expect of students from these books.

I actually first read Animal farm earlier than most blokes do because reading books was all I did once I learned how to read. It is the shitty thing about growing up in a home with book shelves full of different kinds of books all the time. This was the shitty thing about reading the wrong books at a young age – I never understood ‘jack’ about what the literature was all about. I’d be done reading Animal farm and start reading another book – that would have been Mine Boy, The imprisonment of Obatala, Weep not, child or any other book. There were times I’d be at home on a weekend and reading the Quran. Not that I have complaints about this.

So when my niece asked me to give her a narrative of Animal farm, I wasn’t going to admit that I knew very little in the context of the English in Literature syllabus. This is what my friends who teach or have taught English literature would even slap me for.

Here is my failed attempt to expound Animal farm;

I think Squealer has fallen out with Napoleon. He has not been heard from much recently. With the massive depreciation of the Farm currency and all the electricity power deficits the farm is experiencing, I expected the chief propagandist to give the animals explanations, statements and just generally hope that the Pigs Forum is in charge and on top of things. Who else would be better placed to give hope to boxer and clover not to give up but work even harder? Of course it’s Squealer. It’s only Squealer who can make Boxer say that ‘Napoleon is always right’ and ‘I will work harder’, even with the current general despondency among the animals.

Alas, it is Vincent who has been giving statements as acting propagandist. The other day it was Amos who gave statements during an appearance on the weekend interview. I actually thought Squealer had traveled out of the farm. What could be the explanation of Amos addressing the farm animals in the capacity of chief propagandist? I also don’t see it fit for Vincent to take up the role of acting chief propagandist when Squealer is well and alive. It definitely defies the laws of animalism and of course very much against protocol and etiquette.

You see, things haven’t really been the same since Mr Jones lost control of the farm. The Animals had celebrated after the rebellion was successful in anticipation of a more prosperous farm. The prosperity of the farm was all in Old Major’s dream which he had shared with all the animals. It was a dream of lower taxes, more food rations (or more money in pockets if it were humans), a new animal driven constitution within 90 days of the rebellion, a new but better pension policy, no tax on pension, and so many more. However Old Major died before his entire dream was achieved. In no time, Snowball who had taken the initiative of interpreting and explaining the socialist dream of Old Major was expelled from the farm.

Later on, Squealer as the chief propagandist held a press conference at which he explained to the animals that Snowball had all along been a traitor. In fact, even before the rebellion at the time Mr Jones spent his time drinking whisky all the time in his quarters, Snowball was enlisted as a super spy to be giving information to Mr Jones. Snowball had in fact worked against the rebellion and that the recognition of state counsel for his alleged contribution during campaigns and the battle of the cowshed which he got would be reviewed and possibly withdrawn. Squealer also accused Snowball for the death of Old Major. How else would you explain Snowball campaigning to be leader soon after the rebellion when there was no vacancy?

Why did Snowball take it upon himself to start teaching the other animals how to read and write? What followed was that Squealer blamed everything that went wrong on the farm on Snowball. In addition, Squealer had made it a point to paint neighbouring farmers Pilkington and Fredrick in bad light. All the animals were told not to ever have dealings with Pilkington especially. Squealer had done his task very well. Even when the hens had dared to revolt and called a meeting they termed Chuundu chaitwa where they would discuss a plan to protest against the rule of the pigs by breaking reared eggs and not producing any eggs at all, Squealer had quickly addressed the animals and sternly warned the hens that they would be dealt with by the heavy arm of Napoleon’s law. Napoleon’s dogs were consequently put on alert and sent to ruffle the hens. Jessie and bluebell had immediately barked for five minutes as a warning and the hens were later starved into submission.

The hens were consequently accused of trying to secede from Animal farm and trying to create a birds’ farm. The hens were accused of promoting regionalism instead of animalism. Squealer had immediately rushed to the sheep and made them recite the slogan; four legs good, two legs bad. When the hens had tried to complain that the slogan discriminated against them, Squealer had explained that only two legs without feathers were bad. Although they didn’t voice it out (they couldn’t voice out or the dogs would be upon them for breaking the animal farm law), the chickens certainly knew that since the ‘feathers’ part was never mentioned or written anywhere, this was definitely a discriminatory slogan.

You see up until then, Squealer had done a pretty good job as the chief propagandist. I really suspect he has fallen out with Napoleon no wonder he has been pushed out of the limelight. That is possible as napoleon could consider sleek squealer a threat. Of-course Squealer had challenged Napoleon for the leadership of animal farm shortly after the death of Old Major. This is reason enough to suggest that Squealer is a threat to Napoleon. Like Snowball I don’t see him sticking around for long.

Sidelined or not Squealer has a lot of problems to contend with now that Pilkington has stopped buying as much wood as before. The price of wood has really dropped to the lowest level hence the farm is not having any foreign currency. The biggest underground mine of wood is in Squealers constituency and he is finding it tough to explain to the rest of the animals and his fellow swine that the animals will have their daily food rations amid the current economic atmosphere and low wood price coupled with the low corn yield the previous farming season.

To put this problem into perspective, 4,000 animals at More-panny wood mine will be laid off, 1,600 more animals have also been sent on forced unpaid leave at Bar-Loo-Bar wood mine. These are enough problems to send a pig on sabbatical. But Squealer is not the type of pig to be kept in the background and he has been speaking of late again. He was on the weekend interview the other week where he blamed all the problems of the farm on everybody but himself and the other pigs. He blamed the electricity power deficit at the farm on Mr Jones for having failed to build the wind mill to power the farm.

Snowball was specifically cited in that highly charged interview for sabotaging the windmill project their by causing the shortage of electricity on the farm. Squealer seems to be the best at accusing everyone else (especially Snowball) but himself, for all the problems at the farm. Squealer has further been taking a swipe at the critics of Napoleon and the Pigs Forum telling them that they understood little or nothing about farmnomics. He singled out one professor SirSir for lacking knowledge. These sentiments were later echoed by Amos, who told Napoleon’s detractors to go and read farmnomics again.

In fact Squealer has been reiterating the point that no one should question Napoleon. Napoleon knows best and Napoleon is always right. Napoleon doesn’t need to explain to the other animals regarding the rising cost of survival on animal farm, or anything for that matter. Napoleon knows best and the sheep can sing and recite that all day.

The wishes of a single mother

She was awakened by the sound of the alarm clock buzzer. She then stretched her hand reaching the bedside table where she had placed the clock a few hours earlier and immediately turned it off. She had set the alarm to sound at 11am when she returned home at 6.30am from her night shift.

This Monday morning though, she would not have the luxury of a full 8 hours’ sleep. She was supposed to be the one picking her son from school today. She had done this at least once every year. Being a single mother, she let her son live with her parents as her parents believed they offered a much better environment for the growth of the child.

Five years earlier when she had just moved out of her parents’ house and moved to the nurses’ flats in the clinic compound, her mother had expressed concern when the child then only aged 5 had told them that his mother had introduced him to three uncles who came to her flat on different nights. He had mentioned Uncle Sheikh, Uncle Ibrahim and Uncle Horace. The grand parents were further incensed when the toddler had mentioned that his mother had even asked him to call the three ‘uncles’ as ‘daddy’.

The grand parents had then asked that the toddler moves back with them where he had lived since he was born. With her son back at her parents’ house, she was just asked to find time for her son at least on his birthday. She saw him once in a while at her parents’ house but on this one particular day she always picked him to go to her flat. The day was always - his birthday. She would usually throw a small party where all the children at the nurses’ flats complex would be invited.

In the five years that followed since she moved to her own flat, she dated a countless number of guys all of which nothing concrete materialized. In the end she gave up on guys. “All men are dogs,” she would say. For a period of time she stopped dating and got on her life declaring herself as an independent woman. She was heard regularly playing Destiny Child’s song independent women the soundtrack to the movie Charlie’s angels.

She would truly live up to her new found independence as she was regularly seen in clubs with her girls having fun. They didn’t need a man to have fun. She had purchased a state of the art Mini Cooper auto mobile which she always kept immaculately clean. When she went to report for duty she would disembark from her Germany made British car exuding great confidence. Her confidence resonated with her personality and she was once more the lovable person everyone wanted to be close to. She was totally different from the bitch with an attitude she once was when she jumped from one failed relationship to the other.

So on this Bright sunny but chilly Monday morning, she quickly had a shower and as she walked back to her bedroom she remembered that her son’s birthday party would not be held at the nurses’ quarters this year but at her parent’s place. A thought quickly rushed through her mind – ‘maybe the boy needs a father figure’. ‘No way, Fuck it’ the thought was quickly overruled by other thoughts.

She remembered how she had been in love with the boy’s father. They were really inseparable for the better part of the first year that they met. Things quickly unfolded for the worst as soon as she had gotten pregnant and given birth. She also remembered that he had been a fool that prowled on her naivety as a young girl. He was only ever interested in having sex with her. She could count on the fingers of one hand the number of times they ever just went at the cinema to watch a movie together. They spent most of their time at his flat having sex. “He’s such a loser!” she loudly exclaimed. She immediately felt stupid for talking to herself loudly and letting her thoughts wander back through her past. Then she realized she needed to prepare quickly in order to be ready in time to collect her son from school.

When she was done with all her preparations, she realized she still had half an hour to spare so she sat down and pulled out her old diary. She opened a particular page and started to read what she had written down three year earlier.

God there are a lot of people I could blame for my situation; the government for not creating enough opportunities for youths, my friends for introducing me to the life of alcohol and parties, my first boyfriend for making me a mother at a very young age… the list is endless. But there is no need in blaming everyone else but myself, because I bear the biggest responsibility for what has happened to me.

I had been a regular girl who up until the time I completed secondary school, had never known what dating was all about. I made sure my energies were directed only towards my studies. For the first three months after completing my secondary school, I devoted my time to visiting friends and when I was home I read a lot of Novels. But the Secondary school examination results back then would only be available after six months so that meant at the very minimum having a six month gap period before deciding on the next course of action. In fact most school leavers would take a full gap year which in essence was 14 months since secondary school examinations are completed around November.

After three months, I had visited most of my friends and most had visited me too. Then, I met a very attractive young man. He was in his early 20’s and I was an 18 year old school leaver taking a gap year. I had never dated before so technically he became my first boyfriend. The early days were really wonderful times. He always held me in his protective hands. He was such a good kisser I remember. Nothing on earth felt as perfect as going to his flat and falling asleep on his side on the couch or lying naked in his bed. 

BUT…life is about growth and change.  After we dated for about a year, I started to feel like he was just clangoring on my naivety. Our relationship was physical and nothing more. We went into a roller-coaster routine of sex all day every Saturday and Sunday. I was looking for more. This was my first boyfriend so I needed to flaunt him to my friend, I needed to take a walk with him at the mall and go out clubbing with him. This happened very rarely.

He didn’t talk much also so if I really wanted a conversation with him it had to be in between sessions of sex. And the routine continued without us embarking on any major new activities. My soul started to yearn for new frontiers and new horizons and this is how I discovered alcohol. When I started to drink alcohol, I quickly substituted the need to spend time with him, for the drink. For a while I had fun until I grew out of it. By then I realized I had already become pregnant. At first I was very upset and I thought this was the greatest mistake I had ever made especially after he broke up with me.

The time after that break up is the worst period of my life. I have never really come to terms with what my life became. I quickly went back to drinking and in between I dated a lot of losers. Yes God most of these men were but just losers. How could I describe guys that preach to love you but show you through actions that they don’t feel it? They cheat with everyone else and even propose love to your very close friends. In the mean time they come back to you and again claim to love you but as time wanes by they don’t nurture that love.

I walked out of every relationship as soon as I saw that the guys didn’t know what love is. Love isn’t calling you a bitch or a hoe at every point you have differences. Love is not being violent to stress your point. And certainly love doesn’t get you pregnant and then leave you. However love is giving your friend a reason to smile in times of adversity. It is a smile in times of loneliness knowing that another human being can care for you and make you feel loved.

So my God today I want to leave everything in your hands. Grant me a man if you really feel I need one. If I don’t need any, please take away the loneliness and let me just serve you. If you have a man for me at your right time, I will await your right time. Let your will be done and not my wishes God. You know what my wishes are and I trust that you will deliver your promise.

All mothers have wishes, but mine are not just for me but my son as well. I wish for my son to grow into a perfect gentleman and not the kind of men I have met in my life. There aren’t that many steadfast men. My wish for my son is that he becomes a dependable, loyal, faithful and trustworthy man. I wish for him to make a girl happy one day. God, how that would make me proud!

I also wish that he can one day make peace with the absence of his father in his life. I know this issue about his father eats at the very core of his soul every day. I hope he doesn’t hold this against me. His father was a man not ready to be a father. He was unprepared for that kind of responsibility. I wasn't prepared to shelter an unprepared parent. My son was not a mistake but a product of love brought to earth to be loved.

My greatest wish is that I learn to love myself more. That I stop looking for love in other things like alcohol or staying in relationships that promise love but deliver hurt which leads to hate. I believe I deserve the best and will only get love from a deserving person worthy of my love. I don’t want a man to complete me; I want a man to just compliment me instead. For my son I make this promise today that I will work hard for him, I will not need a man to define how my life becomes. My son completes me and if my wishes can be granted, then one day I will get a man to compliment me.

A father’s cry!

On the outskirts of the city, a father looks at the calendar and he sees the circled mark on the date which he had put at the beginning of the year. He had been doing this every year. It had become an annual ritual for him, at least for the last 8 years. Every year on New Year’s Day he hang a new calendar on the corridor wall and immediately circled a specific date – 8^th June, the day his only son was born. Then immediately he underlined another date – 15th January, the date he last saw his son almost 8 years before.

As he stood in the corridor looking at the calendar on that bright sunny but chilly 8th June Monday morning, he knew his son was turning 10 on that day. He was pondering on a birthday present most suited for a 10 year old. He then walked to the decorated boys’ bedroom full of toys but never inhabited. He turned his eyes to the side where he had been piling birthday presents every year. First and second year were missing, but three to nine were all there and properly labeled. A bicycle for the fourth year was also missing as it was put at the side beside the entrance where the door hinges bent inwards as the bedroom door opened. There was also a bigger bicycle there which he had bought for himself but was rarely used. He had hoped to cycle alongside his son one day and maybe every day.

The last time he saw his son was 8 and half years ago on a date he vividly remembers -15^th January. The infant was just about 18 months old. The date actually came precisely 6 months after he broke up with it's mother. They had never married but after she conceived it had seemed they would as the pregnancy almost healed all the problems they had in their relationship.

They had met 11 years before that day, and unerringly a year before she conceived. They had enjoyed a very steamy relationship at the beginning. It was a match made in heaven. They were a couple very much in love and forever glued to each other. They never walked an inch away from each other but always seemed to be too attached as they walked hand in hand. But, beyond all the evident affection and physical intimacy lay deep-rooted differences that started to show.

While she enjoyed the time they spent together, they spent too much time at his flat and she started to feel that she wanted more fun. She tried to communicate this to him but he just wouldn’t budge. He made it clear to her that he was an ‘indoors person’ and that it was more romantic to spend time together the two of them intimately as usually happened. “Why go out clubbing?” He would ask. “I don’t like crowds,” he would say. “Besides two is company and three is a crowd.” he would continue, with a tinge of humour.

But she wanted to have more fun. All her friends told stories of the fun they had had at the disco every other weekend. She could only listen in awe as her weekends meant she would be at his flat sitting on his laps dressed at the most in underwear only. The alternatives would be; dressed in nothing and sleeping beside him on his bed or the two of them lay naked in bed his body matching hers, curve into curve, contour on contour each giving as much joy as they were receiving, harmonized upward and downward thrusts variegated by sideways gentle orbit movements as they made love.

One Friday evening, she informed him that she would not be at his flat on Saturday as she would be accompanying her friends for an outing at a popular night spot but that she would go to his flat early in the morning on Sunday. On Sunday morning he was waiting for her but by 11 hours she still hadn’t shown up. Her mobile phone was unreachable. Every twenty minutes he tried calling her line but it was still not reachable. Finally at about 1:30pm he got an auto prompt message on his phone stating that the mobile subscriber he had dialed had now been available. 

He had dialed the number immediately and the phone was answered by an unfamiliar voice then after prodding on who had called the stranger on the other end of the phone had handed it to its owner.  An audibly stupefied voice was heard on the other side of the phone explaining that she had spent the night at her friend’s house and that when she woke up she hadn’t felt too well so she decided to sleep further. She told him that she would take a shower there after eat something before going to his flat.

When she eventually knocked at the door of his flat the time was 5 minutes past 4pm. He had promptly opened the door and immediately realized that her face still looked dazed. He had instantly joked that this was ‘one hell of hang over’ which had lasted almost the whole day. As she settled inside the house she had told him that she suspected this was more than just a hangover. She narrated to him how she had vomited earlier that morning. He had tried to make jokes about her night out drinking and that she had barfed in the morning. Then she dropped the bomb. She suspected she was pregnant. It had been two days since she had been waiting for her menstruation but nothing had happened.

Two days later on a Tuesday evening she had come to his flat and they had confirmed their fears from a pregnancy test which had showed a positive pregnancy result. They had decided to go to the medical clinic the following morning to have a medical person do the test and when that was done it was another positive result. By the time the weekend came again she had accompanied her friends for partying once more though she had promised him that she would just drink mineral water and no alcohol.

In the months that followed, her new found fad for partying continued until a time when her bulging paunch was really big. She had stopped clubbing for a while prior to giving birth but immediately resumed within a month of giving birth. She would leave the infant with her mother and be about town with her friends every Friday and Saturday night. Usually he would find time to spend with his son on Sunday when she would come to his flat with the infant. Most of the time however, she would be nursing a hangover so he would have ample time to catch up and bond with his baby boy.

A year and a few months later, the routine had continued, but he was now growing tired of her partying habits. At times she would tell him that she would be going clubbing, of which he would not be given an opportunity to approve or disapprove of that. He would be told that he was just being informed, in case he needed to know where she would be. Most of the time however, she would just be unreachable on her mobile and he would conclude she was ‘out and about’.

It did not take time before they broke up. She had asked him to go to her parents’ house whenever he wanted to see his son and especially to take money for child maintenance. He was warned never to miss a single month of the amount they had agreed upon regardless of any circumstances. By the time the baby was turning two years the father had missed two months of the monthly infant upkeep in the preceding 6 months. He had explained that he had moved from the smaller 1 bed roomed flat to a bigger 3 bedroomed house on the outskirts of the city and his new landlord had asked him to pay 6months rentals in advance and that had taken a toll on him financially. Still, he did not see any peace.

So there he was that Monday morning of 8^th June, starring at the calendar then at the birthday presents for his son which he had accumulated the past 7 years. He decided that before going to buy his 10^th present, he would write something in his diary. He would write the words that would serve as a reminder for the next 12 months that he had to fight for the right to be with his son. He opened a page in the diary and immediately wrote a heading with the words; ‘A father’s cry’.

In his mind, he was sure the words he was penning down would encourage him to take on the legal system and fight for his son. He believed he had the right motivation-and the ‘balls’ to do it.

He wrote;

Immanuel Kant said; “Space and time are the framework within which the mind is constrained to construct its experience of reality.”

I have tried to understand the concept of time and space but never really got anything from it. Does it mean the more time that passes and the more distance (space), then our realities are bound to change to conform to the existing realities of the vicinity? How come I have never really forgotten about the son I was forced to give up because of the flawed child care laws?

For one reason or the other, child custody is so flawed that instead of protecting the welfare and rights of children, it just plays to the advantage of desperate women. And grandparents I must add. Why is it that a child below 7 years cannot live with his father? Why don’t laws look at the facts of both parents with equal measure and decide on the available facts and not just because one is a woman then they are more likely to take care of a child better.

There is no law actually that exists with a ‘7 years’ clause for children whose parents are either separated or just never married, barring the father from custody. However, magistrates have been predominantly giving custody to mothers based on the ‘7 years’ argument. Maybe most magistrates just follow precedence and now would be the time to challenge some of these decisions. I know it takes only one man to rise up, stand, and be counted. This man shall be I. For the sake of my son, and other sons out there who hanker for the presence of their fathers in their lives.

I see a lot of women incapable of taking care of a child but still given custody just because they are women. Some women are just rubbish drunks who bring a different man home every month or even every Friday in the presence of their child. Some of these women, the only thing of any importance to them is stiletto heels which they will go to great length to own a pair. If the separated parents are on good terms it is easier for the child to have access to both parents. However, the biggest problem once a relationship breaks is to maintain civility with an ex one shares a child with. Most desperate women want to use the child as leverage to get to the man and hurt them. This is the main reason they will go to large extents to have custody of children. Yet, these kinds of women just ship the children to their parents.

If I made the law, grandparents from either side would not even have the slightest say in the welfare of a child while the parents are still alive. They would just be - grandparents.

I believe this law was made for the good of the child hence it should and must work for the best outcome for the child. Today marks the day I probe further into this law. I want to fully understand this particular law so that the best outcome for my child eventually prevails. I know the court would at the very least grant me visitations and not as those people have made things to be. It has been a long time. Now is the time I fight for my child.

I know that in the judicial system, men get fucked in regards to their children.  I have experienced it first hand and have learned my lessons.

Diary of a fatherless son!

1^st January:

Another year starts today. For me it promises nothing but the same pattern like the last. The passing of time each hour, each day and each month will not bring back my father. I do not know if the man that brought me to earth is dead or alive. Nobody wants to say. I’ve heard that he’s dead, but I don’t remember ever attending his funeral. He just disappeared from thin air one day.

There were times when I spent my days with him but one day he just wasn’t there. I hope in my heart he is alive. This is how I start my year; longing to see my father whom I am not sure if he is still alive or not.

1^st April:

Today was open day at school and all my friends’ parents came. My father did not show up, maybe he is really dead. Neither did my mother show up. Well, my grandmother was there for me too. If my father was alive, would he have an idea what grade I am in today? Does he know I was 1^st in my class? I’ve heard people say I take after him, but if he was a smart guy as people say, would he have allowed himself to just disappear on me? Maybe he is really dead.

If by any ounce of chance he was alive, will he ever try to make contact with me? If our roles were reversed and I was the parent, I’d look for him every day and I’d never tire. Maybe I am just blowing my horn, but in reality I would never know the longing my son would have of me unless if of course I experienced life on the other side – as the son. It could be that he can’t really hanker for his son because he has to have been a son without a father for him to understand how his son yearns to have him in his life.

1^st July:

Dear Dad,

Today I just woke up with a high level of belief that you are not dead. I woke up more assured and very expectant that you will show up. I saw myself sitting at a dinner table with you. Maybe you are not dead after all. As it turned out, I overheard grandpa talking about ‘letting him know his father is around’, ‘his father had tried to come and see him’! Was that me he was talking of?

I believe it was me. But if you are around, where have you been all this long? If you tried to see me, why did it not happen? Is it that you don’t think I am alive? Or maybe you just don’t try hard enough to find me? You brought me to this earth and knew exactly where you left me so I believe it wouldn’t be that hard to find me.

1^st October:

Three quarters of the year has passed by but my hope to one day see my father has not been distinguished. I will one day meet him and look him in the eyes. However, I do not know what that meeting would bring out. Would it be a happy reunion of father and son? Maybe such reunions only occur in the proverbial land of happily ever after. Or, it would be about opening old wounds? There should definitely be wounds that were created for him to just disappear from my life.

My belief though remains that it would be a happy meeting, as I doubt whatever wounds created were because of me. I know I could never have forced my parents to be together as that is their choice, but to be separated forever from one of them is a depravity of a high degree. All I ever ask for is to have the opportunity to take a walk to the shop with my father as all children do. I would have a story to tell at school how my father and I had ice-cream together while I told him stories of all my school friends and teachers.

31^st December:

Dear diary, 

All throughout the year, I have shared my inner most feelings with you. I have shared my fears with you. I have shared the best moments with you. Why is it that I couldn’t share with you, the day I met my dad again? Is there a miracle about to happen on this last day? Then again, if my Dad showed up today, would I be happy to see him? Maybe I would, maybe he would just bring more sadness to a closed chapter. But I refuse to close the chapter. My father is alive. And because he is alive I will one day have the opportunity to meet him.

I would love to get to know him all over again. I bet he looks just like me. Dear diary, I know some of the pages in your willing space I filled them full of tears. But today I have none. I want to be strong, I will not cry. In fact I wish my daddy a happy new year. In the New Year, my main resolution is that people realize how unhappy I am so that someone can help me reunite with my father.

‘Somebody… anybody…’