The problem is not how to go on holiday. The problem is how do you get from this holiday you are on at the moment to the holiday that you think you deserve in Zambia because you need a reprieve from this one.
Your 4×4 is standing and gathering dust. Your heart is restless. The you hear about Zambia.
Zambia is the forest butterfly of Africa. A magnificent and beautiful country with the friendliest, peaceful people in Africa.
There’s been no civil war, uprising or fighting in a century.
Its geographic shape looks like a butterfly and only the DRC, Sudan and Angola have more forest, as referenced here. Zambia has twenty national parks, marked in green on the map, of which Kafue National Park to the left is by far the largest with 22k Square kilometres.
Of the twenty parks ten have management structures of various forms and the rest are gems waiting to be saved.
When you yearn for Africa the Kafue answers.
The Kafue is also Zambia’s oldest park. It still lacks somewhat in infrastructure to other parks and the roads suggest a robust and four-wheel drive vehicle. This is of course all the more attractive for those escaping from tourist spots and civilisation in general, wishing to experience the raw pulse of Africa. Large unexplored tracts of virgin bush with a huge diversity in bird and wildlife put it on the list of ‘must experience’ places in Africa. It is a difficult place to navigate in the rainy season with black cotton soil, lots of water and most camps closed.
As long as we sow the seeds of war, – violent abuse and hate, and create abject poverty, – because of greed, power-lust and blinding self-righteousness, – we feed the hunger of the evil monster and reap the chaos.
Hardly do we have to point fingers and mention names of individuals, leaders and countries. We know which ones to send to another planet given the chance, so that we can live prosperous and peaceful lives without their distorted interference.
I have to refer to one laureates’ acceptance speech at a well known banquet a few years ago:
“we will not eradicate violent conflict in our life times”
“the imperfections of man”
“our limits of reason”
“we lose ourselves when we compromise the very ideals we fight to defend.”
Is there then a reason for leading a ‘just war?’
That the world can be changed by one individual is unlikely. That it can shift from its apparent inertia by many that are moral however, is possible.
“Our moral compass must be love.”
~Marthin Luther King Jr~
You wake up at 0230.
A bird is persistently making the same call and you are as awake as if you had never slept. You experience none of the grogginess that often follows sleep.
It was a dream that brought you to the surface and you just manage to catch the tail-end of the story, but then it’s gone. No matter how hard you try the dream got vaguer by the second. As it vanishes it crystallises for a moment into an idea. Something quite clear. Something you have to do. But even that vanishes if you can’t arrest it. If you don’t catch that either then you’ve lost two important messages that were prioritised above your sleep.
You lie there stumped. A good start to the day.
If you could only press record when that happens, like tapping the screen of your mobile twice when it is set to ‘sleep mode,’ and then talk as fast as you can explaining the dream, apologising to your partner who is either blissfully unaware of your ordeal or used to the script already.
Arrest the dream. Create a picture. Bring it vibrantly to life. Set the background of the canvas of your new day with it.
Whatever you have to do, keep the dream alive.
Call me Nothing.
I sell nothing, because nothing is all I can think of.
In any case I have tried to come up with an idea what to sell you and I can only come up with nothing and that’s why you get nothing, – nothing at all.
Believe me that I’ve boxed, packaged, wrapped, canned, and refrigerated nothing, just for you. I can even shrink it or expand it to your liking, or make it disappear into nothing.
I have gazillion tons of nothing, so much of it that it has warped my mind, as you can see. To say I am a Trillionaire of nothing is being humble.
My nothing is not made in China and not even in Germany or the US. I am the sole proud manufacturer of an incredible, unbelievable amount of nothing. I have factories of nothing producing so much of nothing with such astonishing ferocity that nothing can stop me. I go to bed with nothing and miraculously wake up with even more of nothing. I am now giving nothing away entirely for nothing to make space for more nothing.
I pay with nothing, get bags full of nothing, have abundant nothing, am really nothing and do absolutely nothing for nothing. If I wouldn’t have nothing to hold on to I’d drown in nothing.
I have gift vouchers of nothing and cards wishing you nothing. I have whole showroom floors full of my latest models of nothing. Two wheeled super-blitz specimens with speeds that only nothing can touch; four wheeled ones that stop at nothing and winged ones with jets that disappear into nothing. My gorgeous fashion statements are made of purest, organic nothing and my perfumes and cosmetics are of the finest, sweetest smelling nothing that nothing even gets half close to. I use the latest nothing with no keyboard or screen connecting to nothing so I can finally talk to you about nothing.
Hell, without nothing I’d be nothing.
I have learned from the grand masters to care for nothing and I don’t give a continental nothing about nothing’s tail of nothing.
The beauty about nothing is that you get it if you want it or not for nothing. The real, true guarantee of nothing however is that it will give you nothing for nothing without any argument, persistently and all the time.
There is such astounding wisdom in an uncluttered mind filled with nothing. It teaches that you pretty much need nothing to connect into the source of nothing. There is nothing you can do about nothing, try as you may, unless you thinking about something. Nothing exists gloriously in being simply and unadulterated nothing.
Nothing is singularly unique in that it exists forever. Everything else, you might have noticed, expires and perishes with unwavering predictability. And, – you don’t even have to want nothing. It comes part and parcel with you. As soon as you become (aware) you notice that nothing is all around. You can’t monetize it either or put a price on it.
Yes, I could sell you a jar of nothing or a watch that shows nothing simply to make you aware of nothing in case you forgot nothing. But we can’t understand nothing, that’s why we constantly and creatively define it into something which eventually becomes nothing again. We always think we should fill the nothing and convert it or change it because it surely can’t be nothing even though we move around in nothing all day long, – our whole life long.
Imagine, huh, twist your mind a little, if we would believe that Nothing is the source of everything we ever wanted. Just take nothing and add, well, – no not water, – just add your thought and wallah. “Wallah what,” you say perplexed? “Wallah, you created something!” And no matter how much of nothing we use up, the reservoir of Nothing is unaffected. Nothing is limitless and we are seriously challenged to understand that. To us most everything is finite, right? Maybe pi (3.14159 ~) isn’t, but who cares about that ’cause everything else runs out or comes to an (abrupt) end. Actually, coming to think of it we understand nothing about Nothing.
Maintaining the momentum on Nothing we will eventually come upon Something. Be it a him or a her or a thing. To us that something could very well become the most important and precious thing in our lives. Something very well worth all of our nothing.
Out of nothing…
Oh man it’s spring in Africa. It’s hot again and the garden is full of greens and colour.
Spring brings with it Thirst among many other, dare I whisper, ‘pleasurable things’ – after the dry winter eternity of about three months of pure cloudless sunshine.
Decadence now stares me in the face every time I open the fridge and see another ice-cold bottle of white wine as if to say, “You are complaining about your life bru?”
“Brother, ‘No,’ I have converted Nothing into gratitude and not a syllable of moan shall cross my lips ever again!”
Nothing is all about nothing really.
There is so much of it as it comes to life.
We all have, know it, use it, love it and hate it.