Thursday, September 28, 2006
Sunday, September 17, 2006
Healthy networking: Alumni online networks could be it!
Perhaps the most welcome meeting is that of coming across someone you schooled with sometime back. The further back the more exciting.
There has been efforts to form alumni associations here and there, but few really make anything out of it bcoz of diversity in several variables for would-be members.
It was therefore a good thing I stumbled across two websites that are dedicated to bringing people together, namely alumni.net and graduate.com . I promptly entered my profile and felt happy doing so because with increase in net use, someone who knows me is bound to stumble upon it--likely from search engine results.
Besides, I registered into relevant groups
- graduates of '74 komakundi primary school
- graduates of '78 mawenzi secondary school
- graduates of '81 kibaha high school
- graduates of '90 ahmadu bello university
Motto behind such posts: if you have it, flaunt it.
There has been efforts to form alumni associations here and there, but few really make anything out of it bcoz of diversity in several variables for would-be members.
It was therefore a good thing I stumbled across two websites that are dedicated to bringing people together, namely alumni.net and graduate.com . I promptly entered my profile and felt happy doing so because with increase in net use, someone who knows me is bound to stumble upon it--likely from search engine results.
Besides, I registered into relevant groups
- graduates of '74 komakundi primary school
- graduates of '78 mawenzi secondary school
- graduates of '81 kibaha high school
- graduates of '90 ahmadu bello university
Motto behind such posts: if you have it, flaunt it.
Tuesday, September 05, 2006
Forming opinion
In the course of day-to-day life, one comes across many types of individuals.
Different kinds of interaction do occur, from simple ("Xcuse me U got a lighter?") to a more extensive one ("This is Mr John Doe, your new CEO.")
In some cases someone would be uttering a monologue on a podium or pulpit, while in others it will be a passenger on adjacent seat in a 10-hour flight from Amsterdam to Beijing.
Musician may sing with a gravelly voice, such as those of Phil Driscol and Joe Cocker while others would croon with smooth sopranos such as Billie Holiday and Sandra.
You come across a man with stomach spilling over the waistline, or other with a weasel-like nose.
A normal person quickly forms opinion about any such interaction/encounter. Indeed it is a healthy thing--makes one feel real good thinking, "Gee, if that girl knew what I think of the dress she's wearing, she'd run home like a shot to hide or at least change into something else.."
That is, AS LONG AS YOU KEEP THAT OPINION TO YOURSELF. Keep your opinion to yourself.
A few humans are blessed with a sixth sense that's like being able to read minds. This kind of individuals instinctively note the value entered into your head's registry about them (your opinion about them) and react in different ways. from scowling to smiling to offering a handshake. Nevertheless even with these weirdos, as long as you don't voice (or write or key) your opinion and keep it to yourself, no problem. If (s)he comes forth and asks, "So you are of the opinion that my ears look like rabbit's?", you face them, turn on the most clear-eyed, innocent look and gasp, "OGodNooo! Whatever made you think so??", and when they are out of earshot, chuckle with glee and go about your business.
© D. Makundi, 2006.
Different kinds of interaction do occur, from simple ("Xcuse me U got a lighter?") to a more extensive one ("This is Mr John Doe, your new CEO.")
In some cases someone would be uttering a monologue on a podium or pulpit, while in others it will be a passenger on adjacent seat in a 10-hour flight from Amsterdam to Beijing.
Musician may sing with a gravelly voice, such as those of Phil Driscol and Joe Cocker while others would croon with smooth sopranos such as Billie Holiday and Sandra.
You come across a man with stomach spilling over the waistline, or other with a weasel-like nose.
A normal person quickly forms opinion about any such interaction/encounter. Indeed it is a healthy thing--makes one feel real good thinking, "Gee, if that girl knew what I think of the dress she's wearing, she'd run home like a shot to hide or at least change into something else.."
That is, AS LONG AS YOU KEEP THAT OPINION TO YOURSELF. Keep your opinion to yourself.
A few humans are blessed with a sixth sense that's like being able to read minds. This kind of individuals instinctively note the value entered into your head's registry about them (your opinion about them) and react in different ways. from scowling to smiling to offering a handshake. Nevertheless even with these weirdos, as long as you don't voice (or write or key) your opinion and keep it to yourself, no problem. If (s)he comes forth and asks, "So you are of the opinion that my ears look like rabbit's?", you face them, turn on the most clear-eyed, innocent look and gasp, "OGodNooo! Whatever made you think so??", and when they are out of earshot, chuckle with glee and go about your business.
© D. Makundi, 2006.
Monday, September 04, 2006
Emotional story of Matilde
Radio One Stereo, Dar-es-Salaam has a Monday feature program on children exposed to hard times for one reason or other. The program has a large following, judging by a number of people who dial in to contribute.
This morning (4 September 2006) the host Janet Mwenda-Talawa was interviewing a young girl whose only name I managed to catch was Matilde. I feel it my duty to list her story in summary on this blog: It may serve as a good snapshot to how things could easily go wrong where a guardian angel doesn't materialise on time.
The girl was born and grew up in Bukoba, an upcountry northern Tanzania region. She schooled there up to class 5 whereupon one of her parents' relatives visited and offered to take her along to Dar-es-Salaam where she would receive a better quality education compared to the rural setting that she was in at that time.
In Dar-es-Salaam the expectations were dashed. The person who'd made the promise used it as an excuse to get her to travel, then set upon giving her household chores. When she would enquire about her situation with respect to resuming school, she was told that it was unnecessary for her.
For three long years she stayed in this pattern. She would look so longingly when she passed schoolchildren, wearing uniforms, carrying schoolbags.
One day her godsend chance came forward--she got to meet a person named Evans who, after learning of her ordeal, told her about an institution called Friends of Don Bosco in Dar-es-Salaam, that was offering support for cases like hers. As she had no chance of being released from her apparent slavery, she opted for the only option available for her: receive tuition classes from Evans.
When asked what she was being taught, having cut her classes at the age of 15 three years back, she said it was actually her tutor testing her knowledge and capability so as to know the direction to take. How did she manage to sneak to these classes then? After the grown-ups had left the house for work every day, she would take kids to school, and then in two hours time fetch them back home. That two-hour window was the only time she dedicated to her training.
The tutor was far from unhappy with her progress. In one year time he told her she would attempt the Class Seven examination. So far everything had been hush-hush, not even neighbours knew what was taking place. It just came to light when she revealed that she was going to sit for Primary Education Examination. Her guardians thought of it as some kind of silly joke. My God, how blind these snobs are! I guess, alone, they must have rubbed their palms and laughed with mirth. But there she went and did the exam. She had gained a great deal in English Language, Math and General Studies, the three subjects that were determinant in passing.
The exam came to pass and she got selected to pursue secondary education. Her keepers were incredulous. They were sure she would be turned back home in one month or so: how would she cope? They therefore allowed her to attend a day secondary school so as to continue with house chores after classes.
For Matilde, days were short--what with putting up with school as well as housework. In no time at all the four years had raced by. The Form Four Examinations were here. She had reached here enjoying every moment of it, for, such was her thirst for education. It seems during the three-year limbo she was always dreaming of blackboard and oblong classrooms. She got whatever support from the Friends of Don Bosco, it is implied.
She smashed through the exams with gusto and landed unscathed with a 12-point Division One certificate. This time around heads lifted in wonder--are you sure that's her name up there, really? How could she? At this point, Matilde says, the indifference her guardians had been practicing towards her turned magically into affection. Smiles. Praises. (no apologies, though). "That's great, our child", and such stuff.
The rest is easy to figure. She got selected to join high school--this time Msalato, an upcountry boarding school, no less. The two years raced by and she came up with 8-point Division one. That was last year.
Epilogue
At the beginning of this month She has enrolled for Laws (LLB) degree programme at the University of Dar-es-Salaam.
This morning (4 September 2006) the host Janet Mwenda-Talawa was interviewing a young girl whose only name I managed to catch was Matilde. I feel it my duty to list her story in summary on this blog: It may serve as a good snapshot to how things could easily go wrong where a guardian angel doesn't materialise on time.
The girl was born and grew up in Bukoba, an upcountry northern Tanzania region. She schooled there up to class 5 whereupon one of her parents' relatives visited and offered to take her along to Dar-es-Salaam where she would receive a better quality education compared to the rural setting that she was in at that time.
In Dar-es-Salaam the expectations were dashed. The person who'd made the promise used it as an excuse to get her to travel, then set upon giving her household chores. When she would enquire about her situation with respect to resuming school, she was told that it was unnecessary for her.
For three long years she stayed in this pattern. She would look so longingly when she passed schoolchildren, wearing uniforms, carrying schoolbags.
One day her godsend chance came forward--she got to meet a person named Evans who, after learning of her ordeal, told her about an institution called Friends of Don Bosco in Dar-es-Salaam, that was offering support for cases like hers. As she had no chance of being released from her apparent slavery, she opted for the only option available for her: receive tuition classes from Evans.
When asked what she was being taught, having cut her classes at the age of 15 three years back, she said it was actually her tutor testing her knowledge and capability so as to know the direction to take. How did she manage to sneak to these classes then? After the grown-ups had left the house for work every day, she would take kids to school, and then in two hours time fetch them back home. That two-hour window was the only time she dedicated to her training.
The tutor was far from unhappy with her progress. In one year time he told her she would attempt the Class Seven examination. So far everything had been hush-hush, not even neighbours knew what was taking place. It just came to light when she revealed that she was going to sit for Primary Education Examination. Her guardians thought of it as some kind of silly joke. My God, how blind these snobs are! I guess, alone, they must have rubbed their palms and laughed with mirth. But there she went and did the exam. She had gained a great deal in English Language, Math and General Studies, the three subjects that were determinant in passing.
The exam came to pass and she got selected to pursue secondary education. Her keepers were incredulous. They were sure she would be turned back home in one month or so: how would she cope? They therefore allowed her to attend a day secondary school so as to continue with house chores after classes.
For Matilde, days were short--what with putting up with school as well as housework. In no time at all the four years had raced by. The Form Four Examinations were here. She had reached here enjoying every moment of it, for, such was her thirst for education. It seems during the three-year limbo she was always dreaming of blackboard and oblong classrooms. She got whatever support from the Friends of Don Bosco, it is implied.
She smashed through the exams with gusto and landed unscathed with a 12-point Division One certificate. This time around heads lifted in wonder--are you sure that's her name up there, really? How could she? At this point, Matilde says, the indifference her guardians had been practicing towards her turned magically into affection. Smiles. Praises. (no apologies, though). "That's great, our child", and such stuff.
The rest is easy to figure. She got selected to join high school--this time Msalato, an upcountry boarding school, no less. The two years raced by and she came up with 8-point Division one. That was last year.
Epilogue
At the beginning of this month She has enrolled for Laws (LLB) degree programme at the University of Dar-es-Salaam.
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