Mzangila

Mentor, media consultant, photographer, editor, poet, writer, and counselor.

She died for two months, woke up with a missing arm

Post Views = 1893One day on December 2014, Darcy lost her left hand at their residence in Kileleshwa.  She was just 21, on the eve of Christmas when she and her friends decided that a party had to go down to welcome Jesus to the world. Before, holding parties was a norm, but this one was what she calls ‘mpango …

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An Open letter to Vera Sidika

Post Views = 1643Until recently, I had never seen Vera Sidika’s photos because I don’t read Ghafla, Tuko, Mpasho or follow any celebrities associated with her. I keep my reading circle small as it is only then that I can get the best of what I am reading. Furthermore, the blogosphere, especially the aforementioned blogs, are full of gossip- something …

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In a whacky world, where to start from

Post Views = 1435I slip into a dark green trouser, pull a white t-shirt out of my case, throw a crisp white shirt I’ve only worn twice (during my graduation and during a meeting that I was meant to impress, I lost the deal anyway) over it, round a black tie and throw a light grey official coat over all …

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I wanted to be a rapper

Post Views = 1596“Growing up as a young man, my dream was to be the best rapper in the world,” Says Isabirye Jonathan Collins from the land of Museveni. “All I would do in high school was composing rap songs and presenting to the audiences at school.” As he tells me this, I wonder if this really matters at this …

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In the hut of Mara, and the medicineman

Post Views = 1667“Hello,” I answer the phone. The number is new so my voice is somewhat inaudible. You know the way you respond to a new number while trying to see if you can make anything familiar from the voice on the other end? A very long read ahead. “Hello Justine. My name is Roebuck and I would need …

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Facebook, down this road

Post Views = 1315Mzangila, What is on your mind? I have been on Facebook since 2011. That is around 7 years now, and made roughly 3,000 ‘friends.’ Three-quarters of these people I don’t know them personally, or I have never met them. Some felt that they needed to be my friends, for reasons which you and I might not understand …

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