Chapter 58


Reaping the dream


We arise to the vibration of dawn, stirring it sounds, through the vocal cords of the birds. We look out into the distance, beyond the horizon, and beckon the Sun. Gently it climbs with its orange hue spreading across the land, penetrating and removing the dusk. We turn our backs to the majestic light and walk out to our fields to give mother earth its morning meal of seed.

We dance and sing to mother rain, to quench mother earths thirst. The seeds give birth, to plants, the latter reach up and out spreading their winged leaves to eat of the sun. We air the soil, working out the body and mind, and laugh at the past, our driving 2 hours to the gym, to work the machine. We are one, with our mothers of nature, as we give to them they give to us. In the distance cattle herders, whistle sweet notes to our stock of life, who graze with pride, fearing neither man nor predator. Our hoes strike the ground putting beat to our work song, as we all day long, tend our fields.

The earth moves the sun slowly and gently from east to west. The birds begin their homeward flight, the sun has moved from our backs to our eyes, so we turn after one last salute to the fire in the sky, and turn our backs to it, as we follow the birds home. The aroma of food flavored smoke greets our tired and stress free bodies as we, edge closer to our home, sweet home village. We smile, a full hearted smile, cause we know as we work our fields, they also work us.

Chapter 57

Oral Messaging


We gather around the gold-colored fire, our faces silhouetted against, the backdrop, of a starry night. We tell the same story, over and over again, enjoying it until it is cemented in our minds, never-fading like ball point ink. The oral off our tongue, flows, painting picture of story’s past, nothing added, events engrained deep in real-time. Our lives drama, carbon copied from mind to mind, generation to generation, molded by the heat of the fire into a stone scroll of truth.

The night weaves its invisible body out deep into the sky, bringing sparkle star disco to the heavens, and the women get up to dance, singing and calling for a story-teller, to take us back to the words of ancient ancestor. They stomp their feet upon the earth and shake the ground, sending vibrations deep into, we men our hearts. Palpitating, we take our hands and translate the sound to goat skin covered drums. Far and wide our sound travels, calling on neighbors, friends and foes. This our message, the story-teller time has come.

Our mother earth shaken and awaken by our call back to the past, brings a single cloud above and smiles a small drizzle of rain on us. The cooling beads of rain, touch one, and the story-teller is named. His voice brings silence to the night, and gently and gradually fills our minds, and the peace, of the word, of our ancestors, delivers us to our dreams.

Chapter 56

Reset Return to Roots

We lived on the land, by the law of the land. Then they came. They came and took it all. Before their arrival Kaguma warned us, that we would lose our land. He then paved the way with bread crumbs in our oral tradition on how we would get it all back. We allowed them time in our land, to settle, perchance to dream. We learn their ways, their books and culture, and found our fight, rising and uprising, with hopes and dreams, of a return to the old ways.

These here, their buildings, we return to dust. These here, their roads we return to paths, pot hole by pot hole, we remove their structures. The old ways sing to us, calling us back to the land, back to the time, of equilibrium with the mother nature. When we won the war, they gave us power to govern, suits to wear in parliament, but refused to let go of their created economy. Our fight continued, and we took their economy, now we tear and break it, so it is no more, and we return to the soil. To the old ways, with no carbon foot prints, no connection to machine, looking to the sky in endless time, for the promise of rain.

At night we light fires to cook crushed maize seed, avoiding the electric grid which we are slowly bringing down. We don’t need their electric power, our light comes from the above. Early morning we rise and wake up the sun, walk out into our fields, and work our land, till the sun tires, and falls from the sky.

Chapter 55

The Goffal Raps: Mixed race systems of ideas for prolonging life






No one dare say it aloud, but it splintered our slang speaking minds; we had to get out, the new majority rule, left no economic space for us to plant our seeds. While the conversation behind the brown beer bottle seemed to focus on, the positive aspects of the exodus, like you can work two jobs and earn the strong pound and return with enough to buy houses called cabins, or cars called gees, the truth was we all knew survival depended on it. We were the bees looking for a new hive, seeking freedom and continuance in the land of the Queen.


When Lionel arrived in the United Kingdom called London by our British created race, he was surprised to find that he had to work two jobs just to survive, but the conversation behind the British beers, told him it was still better, than having no job in Zimbabwe, cause his skin was wrongly colored, by the mixing of black and white blood.


At the end of white rule, our mixed race group, classified as race coloured, numbered

20 thousand, within 30 years of majority rule that number would be down to 2 thousand, with the identity double zero. Zero being nothing, and double zero being less than nothing.


Some would argue that we deserved, this great betrayal, by the sons of our motherland, for being nothing more, than house slaves to the British settlers. As always Lionel would argue that a human must do what they must do to keep life moving forward. For Lionel there was something special in the mixing of blood, it created an adaptable human, who could be more than just black or white. The mixing was like Gods final solution to end the war between black and whites.


Like most of his blood, he originated and did time in the trenches of the suburb called Arbennie before promotion to the newly built suburb of Sunningdale. For mixed raced families willing to work hard, and avoid the illusions of the brown bottle, a natural progression was allowed to live in better areas, like the Saint Martins, or Braeside

And finally reaching the top in Hillside.


Lionel’s guardians had a good and severely entrapment to the brown bottle thus avoiding the expected rise of out of the lowly ghetto. His uncles had went to war to protect British interest; they in luck did not lose their lives, but inevitably lost their marbles. A Google search of Lionel’s mind would show young images of him as a kid running on the ghetto streets next to his uncle holding an FN rifle: Neighbors’ screaming.


Mostly Lionel avoid thoughts on the past, one had to look forward, be positive, imagine castles in the sky, and set out to build them.


Like most of us Lionel learned to love the new land and have a ready answer to the English Question.

“Are you black?”



Chapter 54

Patch me through to Dr Adams

“Death. To die. To expire. To pass on. To perish.”

To peg out. To push up daisies. To push up posies.

To become extinct.

Curtains, deceased, demised, departed and defunct.

Dead as a doornail. Dead as a herring.

Dead as a mutton. Dead as nits.

The last breath. Paying a debt to nature. The big sleep.

God’s way of saying, “Slow down.”

To check out.

To shuffle off this mortal coil.

To head for the happy hunting ground.

To blink for an exceptionally long period of time.

To find oneself without breath.

- To be the incredible decaying man. – Worm buffet.

- Kick the bucket. – Buy the farm.

- Take the cab. – Cash in your chips.

And if we bury you ass up, we have a place to park my bike.

The brain creates the mind, as a virtual space to expand and speed up its thinking. The virtual space becomes the conscious you, who can  take control of the mind and use it to control the brain. More often then not, we allow the brain to dictate the mental script that runs in our minds, and the brain has a tendency to repeat scripts, that it runs repeatedly.

Is your brain controlling your mind, or are you using your mind to control the brain.

Continued from Previous Chapter
She picked a rose from the garden growing in front of the water bottling company, the smell made her wonder, how breakfast, scientifically became the most important meal of the day, for the animal man.

As the dew evaporated from the grass, and the mammals danced the morning truce around the watering hole, she sat looking at her morning bowl of cereal, thinking, the damm the cow forgot to bring the milk.

Chapter 53

The Side Thorn Irony



It was not a bother to his mind, that he was now expected to, drink 8 glasses of water a day, to please the scientific evidence that watered the rose bush tree, planted next to the entrance of the water bottling company.

The Fact that leaders can exploit the voters, and the voters never ever think as a group lets exploit the leaders, never entered his mind as a problem thought.

He worried more, about his own hunger pangs, singing auto tunes,
in his belly, then he did about the information, downloading from
the black and white TV, about some war between the Jews and the
Paleys. He laughed at the idiots, who could not pin point the war
on the map, but were trying to uplift their own causes, by wearing scarves with variables, pointing to the conflict. If you asked him how to end that war, he would of simply said., let the Paleys wear,
striped black and grey stripped pajamas. Oh!

He marveled much in his history, as Tim Berner-Lees, gave birth to the
web, and the web gave birth to open source and freedom. And
Freedom spawned, blind spot advertised search, and the search
morphed into the social network, and the space freedom,
gave birth to the book of faces, that removed the freedom, making
each node the product on the shelf. And the tech giants purchased
all the ones and zeros, and converted the freedom into 99 cents.
And the Apple killed the flash drive, while others were, looking through the
windows of charity.

Kevin Kelly ” Follow the Free” (symbol of the past)(network freedom)
Tech World Order ” Collect node information and convert it into
monetary value” (symbol of the atom, nodes spin around powerful center)

There was no thorn in his mind for the tech world order, with
droned pizza delivery.


His pain was much closure to home,


“bloody peanut butter and jelly sandwiches again”


He seriously needed to change his diet.

Chapter 52

The Mind Swagger Thought


People were always telling Thoka that he should eat healthy and exercise on the regular, which he did, when finance permitted.

On this day he is heading to his death, and no good food, or exercised muscle is going to help. He knew this death was coming to him on that day.

So he sent a final text message to his loved ones.

Do not worry about your health of body, look after your mind, exercise it in good thought and the rest will follow.  Entertain no fear, of dictator, of bully, of tomorrow.

The moment before the taxi hit the curb, in that second before, where the hands of time slow down, and the relativity of time comes clear to mind. Thoka smiled in clarity with an empty mind.  All fears erased taking with them the suffering that had defined his life, he journeyed to the other side in style.