Sunday, February 21, 2010
Metal scrap on wheels
I held my breath as the bald and toothless driver manouvered the crooked steering wheel as if he was playing a video game.I literally could see the tarmac in holes as I looked down as the piece of scrap increased speed. The shocks were gone and the nuts on the makeshift seats loose.
As I looked up, the conducter's unshaved armpits was a few inches from my face his unbathed body stinking, his backside hanging out the window as he stood on the journey to hell.
There was no time to enjoy the beauty outside as I silently recited the Our Father and Hail Mary prayers as I clutched on to my red rosary fearing for my dear life! Wondering I was if we would make it to our destination as the driver with a suspected knife scar healed wound on the back of his neck changed gears in what looked like an automatic vehicle!
You guessed it, I was the first one out of that minibus imposter at the stage in Blantre, panting and walking slowly to give a chance for my heart to slow down.
Tracing footsteps to lead me home
Greetings from the Warm Heart Africa, Malawi.
I'm a Malawian journalist who grew up in many countries including South Africa, Belgium, then West Germany, UK, Washington DC and New York in the US and I love New York.
Trying to come up with the production of my life and by compiling some of my 1000 poems into a book called ‘Tracing Footsteps’ to lead me Home with excellent photography.
I also plan to film award winning documentaries based on the history of this ancient land called Malawi and the mysteries of the Sirius star.
.....watch this space.