Small-House
Never before have family values been more seriously challenged in Zimbabwe. For the maintenance of morality, being chaste before marriage and fidelity in marriage has always been propagated, yet both chastity and fidelity have been largely ignored by the majority of Zimbabweans and the issue of small house has become a social cancer and much debate has been conducted about the practice which has nearly destroyed the very social fabric structure of the family.
Although chastity is always advocated, both in the religious and the secular world, many stories are abound of couples who continue to have adulterous extra-marital affairs, which in the Zimbabwean context, are referred to as “small-house” and as a sad result, adultery has become almost like an epidemic.
It was believed that in the past, African culture and morality had sustained itself around two great traditional pillars, both rooted in the family and culture. One was premarital chastity, with absolutely no sexual contact before marriage. The other was marital faithfulness, with no room for extramarital affairs. Tribal, cultural, ethical, and religious forces supported these values and fear also supported these values: fear of what the tribe, the family, friends, and relatives might say; fear of God, fear of unwanted pregnancy that would bring shame to the family and the tribe; and fear of sexually transmitted diseases. Read more
With Joy I don’t cry
God’s love is wide like sea,
Once was blind but now i see.
With joy i kissed the blue sky,
But with joy never did i cry.
Whether i own all silver and gold,
Whether i meet my dead friend of old,
Might i become a King under the sun
My tears of joy don’t sip for fun.
But when my heart is sturbed with words
Tears of anger flock out like birds.
Any words that are inflictious and sarcastic,
Leave my eyes in sorrowfull and pathetic.
Whether i’m promised wings to fly,
Ecstacy and bliss may lift me high
But as long i’m in this earth of sorrows
My tears of joy will never kiss my brows.
Its because food never healed hunger.
All joy is vanity beyond stood anger.
When my joy will forever endure
Tears down my cheek i will ensure
Don’t shed a tear
If I die this year
Dont Shed a tear
It was my turn
like seasons change
They’s a reason for my demise
Never to rise again
Feel the rain on my skin
Pain heals Read more
Is God what we say he is?
To be called a Christian has become as common as to be called a football fan, and many Christians have ways of identifying themselves with Christianity as football fans with teams. Some, have uniforms to identify with, mottos or slogans, leaders, rules and cultures. Most will tell you of “kuChechi kwedu kunoitwa so”, ways and dominions.
Many, if not all will differ fundamentally and these differences however narrow or stark perplex to raise the question, “is God whom we say he is?”. Perhaps, further questions that need enlightenment exist but the fundamental principles of Christianity need defination. Read more
To blog or not to blog
To plagiarize a famous Shakespeare quoataion. Why Blog? Indeed why get on the web and share your thoughts to milions of strangers , some who don’t know or care what you think?
Alas therein lies the rub! The chance to have my guts spilled out in cyberspsace is a prospect too tempting to pass up. When one reads other blogs some evoke laughter, anger - the depth and breadth of human emotions. I cannot promise that I will evoke emotion. hey a blog is isimply my web log — what i feel , think or want to comment on. Love me , hate me… want to strangle me .. Go Ahead !! i dare you…. if you can find me . Read more
Widow
my brother’s widow
She learnt again to love
Before in his grave
His body had learnt corruption.
Still she swore he was he was her best love
And on his grave wept herself stiff
On her second wedding’s eve.
By Lawrence Hoba
