My respect for Scotland has in the past few months gone from low to zero. Sadly, while watching the Scottish blip at the Commonwealth festival yesterday I went as far as to mute the TV and wait for Indian festivities to come on again before continuing to watch the show.
Scotland, not content to spawn over-zealous young Malawians (well, I have in mind one specific one) that have loudly disowned everything Malawian in themselves and seek to visit their new found zeal upon us in 2022 (or thereabouts); the Scots are now championing the misguided belief that Malawi is no longer safe for us women and girls. who forgot to send my dad the memo when I was 11 that it was my cultural duty to get married off. Well, whoever forgot to send that is 18 years late as I am still reserving my bony wedding finger for that round piece of metal.
Apparently, the ministry of education didn't receive the memo that none of it's schools are up to scratch either, pity. That memo is 46 years too late. Maybe lost somewhere in the mail.
So this case of Florence Mhango and the Evening Times (or whatever it is called). Not only is she and her daughter from exactly the same tribe and region as I am; yet our paths are different. So to avoid being labelled a jealous Malawian (as is often the case when Malawians protest in one way or the other- refer to web commentary on those with 'other' views on e.g. the David Banda, Mercy James and their Dads ). I will go ahead to propose to Florence, Precious and their Scottish friends: fight your battles but leave the Malawian name out of it. I feel the police and the entire law system who have been reduced to ridicule over genital mutilation (again someone forgot to send out memos informing us that it is a legal practice - maybe mine was lost in the mail) and I feel for my Northern Malawian culture whose centuries old practice of lobola has been reduced to child-grabbing (again, when my parents got divorced, someone forgot to send my Dad's family the memo to grab me). I will not speculate that poverty is the main issue here, for if it is dare I say the Scots would have been bold enough to call a spade a spade.
Who knows? Out goes anything tartarn from my arms, so long and farewell.