I am Simon Makonde

I will agree with fellow bloggers that Simon Makonde's story was too deep for  lower primary brain. Some learn to pass a stage and others learn to unlearn. I appreciate the economical, social and political views related. But I have a contribution to make. I want to be brief. 

To me, the story is a poem. I may not express the telepathy. Words are too shallow and the interpretations unending.

A summary would be that we start life at birth and end at death. Eternity is your own gambling. The time aspect, fixed, awaits as in life vanities of naming, marrying and sickening. For what is good in marriage when you can fall ill on a thursday?

The boy is named two names- a traditional and a christian name. A person born of 'unknown' parents, unknown culture, mixed identity and adopting a christian wedding style that could not be honest enough- whoever brought the STI- for him to fall ill. He therefore comes into the world of confussion- too much TV- and computer- with least time for self. No soil owns the boy anything for he belongs to none.

Good that Makonde prayed in no day. Why should you pray? Good that he married- I do not know whether she was a virgin-or whether he himself was-whether he left an orphan unborn when he died-we don't know as we don't know of the wife. If you asked me, Simon hurried to marriage/sex, a life that kills the unsteady though their hearts still beat. Social connections are killer opportunities. Great men love solitude. They seek company for convenience. He could have died unmarried- for what is the reward of being?

I know where I am in the stages of Makonde. Do not tell me about philosophy, religion or reality. Tell me about nothing as you wait for my dirge. And that is the Sad story of I, Makonde.