Here we are. Creating a new world with paint and brush on canvas out of the chaos and confusion. We speak and write of humanity amidst the chaos. Out of the angry waves of nationwide strikes and public outcry, we raise up as a live tsunami, a generation that aims at stabilizing a Topsy nation, submerging the towers of state communism build on shores of impaired moral principles and selfish greed. In our world, pen on paper documents hope in life, brings satisfaction of a life well lived at death, promises life beyond the tomb. This is our world, in paper and canvas. This is my world, in the dark, stuffed somewhere in a locker. Choking, suffocated by fear. The fear of failure. We are afraid that this life we live in will laugh in outright scorn at our new world order.
Isn’t that what it is… A system conceived in the mind. Raised in the mind, it exists in the mind until some idealists decide to bring it out, defying the realistic odds against it and what do we have; Art: Painting a white serene shore where our children are playing together in sweet harmony while behind the canvas, in the dark stormy ocean, an agitated nation is drowning in tribalism and hatred… Performing theatrical poems and plays of a people united while in the real life, we are conspicuously rooted in corruption and greed. Back stage are personalities in businesses and governments who eat and eat and eat what doesn’t belong to them as if life itself is an opportunity to eat. Art is a mental conception, an omission of the ugly scenes of real life, free from tribalism and hatred and corruption and greed. Art is unity, art is love. Art is honesty and selflessness, openly denying normal existence and realizing dreams of a free society in exhibitions and theaters. Art is… You know what. Forget it. Art is Art. Art is fiction.
Limuru, Kenya, July 15th, 2016.
Like any other July morning, it is freezing cold, with perfect visibility reduced to only a few meters ahead. I am standing by the window in a guest room at the Soteria Women Center, and barely can I make out the outline of the huge metallic gate of St. Paul’s University. Taking the stairway downstairs, I meet with the Executive Director of the African Liberty Organization for Development (ALOD), Mr. Adedayo. With his Igbo attire, he passes out like one of those oga characters from the Nollywood films. ‘Well, at least he has his African roots in check,’ I reflect, looking at my Gucci shirt and blue jeans from some company in Britain. The black leather shoes are undoubtedly Italian… and that reminds me: Someone forgot to remember to indicate in the invitation letter to the camp that Limuru is Africa’s Alaska! Perfect explanation to the missing attire despite the harsh weather. With a grimace that reminded me of last night with only my Maasai shuka to protect me from Mother Nature’s cruelty, I hit the pavement that leads right inside the cafeteria and there they are, round about the round table. Talk of King Arthur and his Knights of the Round Table. In this case, it is a round breakfast table.
Eve from Uganda. With her Eloquent English and meager Swahili, she is engaged in a lively chat with her Kenyan counterpart, Frank. Beside them is Ajiambo from Kenya. And that big, beautiful smile. I can swear that were it for Ms. World smiles competitions, Ms. Ajiambo will be the flag bearer to the continent. I don’t want to say that she would have gone right ahead and be crowned the smiles Queen… Oops! Msilanga, also from Kenya, is listening keenly as Eve narrates the events of May 11th, 2016, when one Dr. Kizza Besigye, popularly Ssenyondo (Big hammer), secretly swore himself as Uganda’s president. The aftermath was a total pandemonium and she never liked it. Tina from Tanzania, whose fluent Swahili tongue well manages the English conversation, recognizes my presence as I enter and calls me over with a ‘join the club’ wave. Together with the Russian, that is I, we are part of the brightest minds encircling the Round Tables of the cafeteria, amassed from across the African continent (I know Russia isn’t in Africa so if you’re wondering how, why… that is another story). Diverse in Language, arts and culture, we are today united by a common cause: to make a positive change. I call it Independence Day. The beginning of this living hope that all humanity will one day be liberated from that which corrupts into the glorious freedom of the sons and daughters of God that we are (Galatians 21:8)
I would be lying if I write that our expectations for the three days entrepreneurs’ camp courtesy of the Language of Liberty Institute (LLI) and ALOD were met in a forthright manner. We anticipated a series of talks and shows on how to become a successful entrepreneur, the milestones and success stories of those who have made it big. At some point, it would get boring. I mean, remembering the good times we spent sleeping in a two hours economics lecture, while the learned professor and the class chopi (self-proclaimed genius) kept looking for x and y in the whiteboard (like hell they used to find it!), three days dwelling on pure entrepreneurship stuff isn’t a party. I guess we got more than they bargained for in the invitation letter. Nothing would have ever prepared us for this.
To start with, Poverty Cure, produced by the Acton Institute, is a documentary that awakens you to the rather harsh but true (by all that bears the light of truth) reality of the state of Africa as far as foreign aid in all its entirety is concerned. You are conscious of the precious opportunities that have been concealed from you over your youthful life of blind begging, of everyone and everything responsible for the doors that have barred your break through to socioeconomic freedom, chief of them yourself. Your fear. Your world in a locker. You remember the broken chain at the feet of the statue of liberty and you are like; ‘eureka! All along I was free!’ It is time to unleash your world like nobody’s business, and to positively impact those around you. But wait! Not so fast. The fear of failure is proving to be a stumbling block. You quickly get rid of this after watching The Call of the Entrepreneur: a mind blowing true story of three men, one call, and a string of life threatening sacrifices. You believe you are the fourth man and are aware of the thin line existing between success and failure: FEAR. You turn this fear into courage, some kind of Apollo 11 fuel that ignites your world, letting it out via invention and innovation, creatively expressing your talents to fulfill humanity’s needs, sharing and empowering the lost pilgrims trying to trace their way back to the true African socioeconomic setup, that is entrepreneurship. You vow to live your liberty, to do what you want, when and how; you learn to respect and protect like-minded persons, to demand the same from those who think they can infringe on your liberal rights, that is your life. You now have the mind of self-reliance, of faith in what you believe in achieving against all odds.
On a soul-searching journey with June Arunga along The Devil’s Footpath, you thank God that the deadly trails of wars and tyranny, poverty and hunger, does not pass your way. And if even one of these did, we overcame. Thanks to Kofi Anan and those of us who believe in peace and unity. WE OVERCAME. To God be the glory. You come in terms with the greater life beyond mere existence as a change driver, that entrepreneurship and liberty calls for more than just drawing and writing: it calls for political stability, for freedom and determination, faith and hope, persistence and self-confidence.
Above all, you are a member of the Round Table, you are free. Free from ingesting the poison of corruption and greed, state socialism and communism that destroys the otherwise entrepreneurial mind. Free from fear. You are young, empowered and already spreading your wings for this flight towards making a positive change with your art…
Intermission.
Present day, Africa. With the current state of affairs, Eve still hopes for a change in Uganda. But not through back street presidents. As much as she cannot separate herself from the concept of liberty, she is enlightened and wants to win her fight, clean. The so called peaceful demonstrations ruin business, she says. A university graduate, this young, energetic lady from Buganda kingdom owns a cake making bakery which earns her more than the daily bread. Tina’s positivity has never changed while Msilanga still holds on to his dream of economic franchise with no limitation to his hot pursuit for success in business. Through his blog (https://charlesmsilanga.worpress.com), he has no boundaries as far as writing is concerned (he is affiliated to The Writer’s Guild, Kenya). Last time I heard from her, the ever smiling Ajiambo was into organizing writing workshops, discussing the importance of liberty as far as prosperity is concerned. Together with other members of the round table, she runs an online magazine, Mwangaza. With a blog under her name, she is also a member of Kenya’s Writer’s Guild. Frank is an active writer also attached to The Writers Guild. And hey… Remember the Russian? Friends simply call him Zeck. He never went back to Russia. Whoever goes back to his/her hospital of birth! (He was born in Russia hospital, Kisumu, Kenya) He is not only an artist, but a free artist. With ink on paper and paint on canvas, a whole new world is taking its rightful place in this generation, slowly coming out of the dark, out of the locker. Maybe too slow for comfort. But finally, when they will see through their eyes, they will see a world free from all that corrupts. They will say NO to tribalism and wars. They will learn to appreciate and live by their Art: The Art of Men and Women of The Round Table.
Independence Day 
Woooooooow my mother should read this…She should see what a writer pens here!
Gratitudes! Am sending my smiles all the way to you!
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Great stuff there Sir!
Keep it up man!
Letskeep trying
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We do the best we can sir.
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