Preston Mwiinga

Ine skiny yanga niija ya black,
Sisi zanga niza black.
Elo namansapato yanga naeve niya black.
But I am so proud to be born of a black skin.
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Why is life so cruel, why is life this unfair, why it so harsh, but why does it seem as though my prayers don't reach to the heavens, do I really deserve to be treated like a leper amongst the Jews, calling me unclean despising and disputing and you leave me in despair. Where did I go wrong to deserve this treatment? Am I cursed to always wear a frown? And never to smile for long. The people around me seem to care about my cares but when they are away from me they bite me worse than a lion can do so I call them back biters. The many smiles that I receive look so captivating and shiny but they lack one thing and that thing is happiness instead they just leave me with multiplied sorrows what a world I live in.

My world feels empty, desolate without shape and void. Nothing seems to make sense to me; I sleep with sorrow and work up with it in the morning. Just at the moment when all was getting better in my life, this guy called disease comings swiftly, softly and shifting it takes away my most treasured possession, the apple of my sight the source of my happiness, the one who has been behind my success, ‘‘mama'' she dies before am established and leaves me in a state worthy calling a beggar. Friends I trusted so much, the people I thought would fight stand beside me, were actually wolves in sheep clothing so they make a choir to laugh at my failures and exaggerate my mistakes, putting them on a microscope and magnifying them by 1000x.
This is my life and now am full of frustration because of this flirtation during the duration of stagnation in muddy, shallow and dirty water. I have tried t to put myself to be putting me in a reverse gear. I now retire because am tired of pursuing dreams that just remain dreams am now forced to get relief from kantobo and his brothers because spin last spinned around so now just sing the song red wine, red red red wine. The fruit I once so much condemned the tender plant dearly by jah men. Prostitutes have become a part of my life so the little I make in day-day workings I give them to use for the needs so they respond positively to my desire. Thug life now is what defines me, I dress scantly with tattoos all over my body. As though I was not a follower of Christ but now my life is nothing to talk about, my past has been grasped in a moment of grief and anger.
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When I got you, you were that village girl who was so beautiful though naive in your ways of life.
I was ready to love you because you were my parents best choice for me.
The more time I spent with you, My love grew like a tree planted in a fertile land.
I bathed you with treated water and and put ointments on you. I clothed you with an embroidered dress written on it, ‘I stole your heart' and put sandals of fine leather on you.
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My life has become like the theater, Lusaka play house. Where you take me for Bob mkosha.
My activities are that of public interest busy watching them like you are watching a new movie on the big screen at fresh-view cinema and eating popcorn navima freezit vo dula.
On twitter I have few followers but in reality so many.
You have forgotten all those important tasks you have just to study my life.
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I am loving the best, and I am proud.
I may delay in telling you I love you,
I may delay in publicizing our love on the social media.
Your friends may think i do not better plans for you.
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The words of my mother echoed in my ears reminding me of the how cruel the world can be if you allow some women to use you.
She said to me,
'Mwana wandi Kuli Delaila! Iwe walalila kwati wa baela when she milks the Naira from you.'
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HIV and your friend Aids, whilst working together you have terrorized my saul. You have made me an outcast in the society. You have brought segregation to my life.
Those that claimed to love me have deserted me my life has become so dry like the Sahara desert.
My life is flooded with problems like the floods behind the Tsunami causing a lot of harm than good.
You have disfigured my body causing it to have a lot of potholes. My face has shrunk like I am that ablution block that has been emptied by a sewerage tanker.
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He knew that rest lay somewhere up ahead,
but he could never quite reach it. The story of his life brings us face to face with a man burdened with an incredible mission.
Environmentalists talk about saving species from extinction,
but for Noah it was more than the talk.
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The day lelo has come,
Vaushimbe ine vasila kabili lelo nakwitila.
Namupeza mukazi wapanyumba and I call my running mate.
Day yanga yachikwati, nalemba yachizungu ija diary come on everyone celebrate with me because today is my happy day.
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Each and every moment I walk in fear because I do not know who will take away my life.
It is not like I am a fugitive No! But because I am an albino,
Some do not even want to seat next to me,
Eating with me is like they are feeding on vomit,
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This is a story of a beautiful woman,
not written in story books,
not acted in movies,
not just a story told
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Her voice is silenced, her dreams shattered,
Her future stolen, her spirit battered.
They see her as a commodity, a means to an end,
But she's more than that, she's a human being, a friend.
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Her future once shone bright, a dream she held so tight,
To be a doctor, saving lives with all her might.
But then you came, a shadow in her way,
Turning her into someone dark, wanting to destroy and sway.
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My physical disabilities has led me to my emotional paralysis and I'm left without a solution but just to complain.
Is it a sin for me to fall in love does love chose individuals.
I am human like any other human being.
I can be romantic even more romantic than people without disability.
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Your body is like a treasure, learn to wrap it well for survival.
You rush then you will crush.
Young lady listen to me, there is one thing I want you to understand about we men!
Posting half-naked pictures of yourself on Facebook, be it you doing a sexy pose, or showing
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Your heart is filed with pain and sorrow
You heart is in pain, troubled with the physical pain
Hope is twisted as others have told you it is impossible.
You are filled with hate and blame.
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Black is beautiful and I am proud to be born black. It has the chocklet. Chocklate is sweet no wonder everyone likes it, so is my skin color. Proud to be born black.
Black is not cursed, God is God of all of us, he loves the black skin just like he loves the one skin, because of this I will not be intimidated about my skin color because black is beautiful.
Black is beautiful because it is a symbol of strength seen from the hardworking miners at chambeshi mines, or as strong as an Africa woman carrying a calabash on her head. Being black is my pride and this I will not hide as I ride on the fertile land of the blacks, black is beautiful.
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I am an African born in Africa, I am not a South African
But I`m black; my skin is the same as yours and I rise and proudly say black is beautiful and we share this beautiful chocolate color, we are all Africans.
When the cries were so hard in South Africa before getting Independence, as Africans we united to free south Africa
When your leaders were beaten by whites we gave them shelter, protection, food and the hope that indeed freedom is coming tomorrow.
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Africa my mother,
Africa my father,
Africa land of my brothers and
sisters,
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I just saw myself regaining my consciousness from the intensive care unit. As I tried consulting how long I had been admitted, only to be told that I was there for three weeks and two days. It was sad that I was never the same. I was discharged as a disabled person. I been brutally punished by my aunt for stealing a piece of meat. Look at me and you wouldn't want to look at me again for a single minute. my hands have been distorted, my face looks as if I'm the one that acted a horror movie the wolf man. I no longer have hips, I look as if I have been planed like the way a carpenter planes a door to smoothen it. My back is not touchable, it is rough and now pricks like a tree that produces Roses and My chest looks as if I have tar toes all over my body and yet those are scars on my body. I now use a peripheral device to be able to get what people are saying like a laptop that uses headsets for reason being that the internal ear piece is damaged. Its because my ears have been chopped off my her.

Child abuse is my cry of the day. It will be my cry of the month, a protest of the year and a boycott of a century so long as my issues are not addressed. My message is simple, Abash child abuse time is now. I am a survivor of the brutal abuse but not every child is, a lot of children have innocently lost their lives and are still loosing. Day by day children get mistreated, made to do heavy duties beyond their strength, and made to abort school for their (guardians and parents) selfish dirty businesses. because of this some have said, `ENOUGH IS ENOUGH` and have resorted to going on the street, thinking it is safer their yet it is even worse. Whilst on the street because of things lacking in their lives, they end up engaging in bad acts like stiffing Bostitch, and robbing people. Enough is Enough, `ABANA BACHULA, NAKUKWANA` we shall no-longer be silent. We shall not just sit down and just cry, we shall act to fight the act. We have become children right freedom fighters, we shall fight in the morning, afternoon, evening and all the time till we defeat.
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