Singing niba fumani, niwena wakona kufamana. Well. I have finally found my 'small dad'. He has a weird name now, though. Induna Imangambwa. Oops! A thousand apologies, this lihaba has just been corrected. It is a title, not a name.
I am singing, because now I know where to catch my 'small dad'. Have to get back the books I lent him, when he was incarcerated in that horrid place in Kamwala. It was a trying time for mum. And more so, a trying time for me. My belief that the Barotse Question is marred with self-interests, was evidenced. While my 'small dad' and others were languishing in prison, one or two of their so-called comrades in the struggle were chowing caviare in some foreign lands.
Notwithstanding that it is an uncomfortable truth that in any struggle, there will be those whose sole pursuit is self-interests - We must always be conscientious of those with little knowledge of the history of the struggle that howl the most; those with knowledge of the history of the struggle, but have exclusive accoutrements of historic privilege; and, those that cannot comprehend if where they are, is where they think they are.
Please excuse me. I now have to be au naturel. I have Royal Air Ancestors to catch. Hope while on the night flight to Mungu, I will remember the authors and title of my books.
Kozo.
