PARADISE IS HIDDEN BETWEEN YESTERDAY AND TOMORROW

Do not go too fast, do not go too slow, nor stop, nor stop to look back, nor look back, nor go back – walk on at a steady pace. Paradise is hidden between yesterday and tomorrow.

Do not love too far, do not love too near, love as you walk, walk as you love, forward calmly, forward calmly, nor be afraid of heartbreak. Paradise is hidden between yesterday and tomorrow.

Do not dream too much, do not dream too little, do not trust too quickly, do not trust too late, do not work too hard, do not work too soft, do not cry during the day, do not laugh in anybody’s face, do not expect that those whom you love also love you, do not expect that those whom you understand also understand you, do not assume that those whom you see not also do not see you, do not assume that those whom you love not also do not love you.

It is in your heart today, it is in your hands today. Forget the past, son, forgive everyone who ever hurt you, nor dream alone of goodness only in the future – Paradise is hidden between yesterday and tomorrow.

The person who loves you the most is the last person you would think of. Love me, dear, please love me dear. Paradise is hidden between yesterday and tomorrow. And if we let it slip away today, we will not and never find it again tomorrow, but will walk on lonely again, like yesterday.

If you love me like I know you do, please hold my hand forever.

– Che Chidi Chukwumerije.

Searching For The Right Response


I live in Germany. Just two days ago, my wife, our two kids and I were at the Christmas Market in Frankfurt. It was jam-packed, and most people seemed relaxed and happy. We had lots of fun, rode the giant carousel with the kids, laughed out loud, ate extra-large Brezels with hot steaming Glühwein for Yvonne and me, and for the kids warm Kinderpunsch.

And we stood in front of a super-sized Manger and I told my daughter the story of the overwhelmed shepherd to whom a host of angels appeared and brought the glad tidings of great joy: that God had sent His Son to bring Light and Love as salvation to mankind. Pointing at each figure in the Manger, I told her about Joseph and Mary, about the three wise men, and about the Child in the crib in whose heart was Magic. Because Love is Magic. It was a beautiful day.

What religion, what philosophy, what doctrine, what hatred, what madness, what smallness makes a person drive a truck into a packed Christmas Market? How can such a thing be rationalized or comprehended?

I think of the people at the Christmas Market in Berlin yesterday – and inwardly I see the faces of the people I saw at my Frankfurt Christmas Market two days ago. The same kinds of people. Happy people. Full of the spirit of Christmas. I see myself and my family. I see mankind, up against an Evil; an Evil that is slowly uniting the rest of mankind against it. It might take long for the right response to intuite itself into conscious thought and into a visible systemic form. But one day… one day… it will.

Mankind is not perfect, it is true. But this kind of Evil… is beyond all depths.

– Che Chidi Chukwumerije.

HEARTBREAK AND PROMISES, TOGETHERNESS, FAREWELLS AND SILENCE

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To make a promise to love another person, forever, and then to break this promise and say, Goodbye baby… awakens within the hearts of everybody who hears of it a memory of their own broken and unspoken promises.

Noise everywhere. Noise in my head. Noise even in the centre of silence. Lovers are what sages once were, and vice versa. Heartbreak and promises, togetherness, farewells and silence are all trying to resolve themselves within our hearts.

I should never have told you that I loved you, but how could I but not tell the truth? Evermore I understand the importance of silence. Our hearts are broken in silence: a small token to pay for the new powers which soon and steadily awaken in silence within us.

One who can bear the pain of heartbreak; one who can say goodbye and yet always be there; one who can preserve promises in silence unbroken; will read these lines with a knowing smile.

– Che Chidi Chukwumerije.

CHOICES AND LANES, CHANGES, DESTINIES AND LIFE

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You make the principal choice only once, and then it drives you along its lanes. When you change, you change solely within these lanes, upwards or downwards, or round and round. You fix the terminal points of your destiny, and that is your life.

But fear not. The principal choice is the answer to who you are, always, and always is forever, and forever holds light for every spirit.

Poets remain poets,
comedians remain comedians,
lovers remain lovers,
leaders remain leaders.

Healers will be healers,
teachers teachers,
builders remain builders,
dancers remain dancers,
and weavers will always weave something.

Mountains remain mountains, be they on land or under the sea.

Women remain women, and children stay children, earthlife after earthlife.

Thoughts ever will strike me, once, and before they strike again, I would have written a poem for them, as a surprise, because I am just like that.

Friends remain friends, men remain men, and what we seek remains all we have.

Choices and lanes, changes, destinies and life.

– Che Chidi Chukwumerije.

GOLD AND DAWN, SONGS, LONELINESS AND STRENGTHS

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Gold glitters, but if all that glitters were gold, the world would be a place of great glitter and much emptiness.

Dawn ever arrives. No matter how dark the night, it will melt away when dawn awakens the travelling sun, and there will be laughter when you hear the voices of children playing in the morning…

Songs are a thing that are born mysteriously, and every moment everywhere hath its own songs too and there is no end to songs and games – and this has often mystified me.

And loneliness is a guest that comes and goes as he pleases, and once you get used to him, he becomes easy to live with and, together, both of you achieve many things which on your own you could not achieve, even if the whole world were to aid you.

There are some masterpieces which only lonely artists can create. There are some wars which only an army of lonely soldiers can win. There is a certain love which only two lonely hearts can share with one another. And loneliness seeks itself in you – but when loneliness goes away from you again, do not follow.

I am not strong. But when I unite with golden dawn and lonely songs, they make me the canvas on which they paint their dreams, and I am strong again. And free.

Gold and dawn, songs, loneliness and strengths.

– Che Chidi Chukwumerije.

LOVE AND POETS, FOOLS, DREAMS AND SEEKERS


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Our dreams do not die, but when we misinterpret them, we make fools of ourselves. Big fools. But it is love again that maketh the biggest fools of us all, especially of poets and dreamers.

I dream my dreams, I write my poems, but still the nearest I come to the love in my heart are these words on paper that I write. And it is not me that you love, but my poetry. And fools continue to dream and poets continue to write love-poems and I continue to change.

But I do not believe the myth, oh no. The younger you are, I know, the deeper you love. Love does not make fools of youths, only of adults.

My chest hurts. It is cold somewhere strange and far…

How really good are the things I write? If you knew the amount of pain and loneliness, the pressure of gleaned recognition, the deep sorrow under which I write them down, my friend, you would read them gently and tenderly and with a thought for all those who labour away but are called fools and dreamers by those for whom they also write. Aye, if you knew the pain mingled with the ink which write these lines, you would weep for everybody on earth and beyond.

But do not cry for me… when I write, I shed my pain.

But she never goes away, my love, like a deer. She is only shy and a little wary of strange men, and all men are strange. I’ve been to many places, but no place ever confounded me quite like the heart of the woman I love. It was a room of mirrors and all I see was myself everywhere. But so would everybody else too who found their way into her – and yet her heart does not lie. It only reflects the truth. So I got mad and smashed her heart… and – what do you know? – instead of hating me for causing her pain, she loved me fiercely for freeing her from her loneliness and fear.

Poets seek love – and find poems…

Fools seek love – and find dreams…

Seekers seek truth – and find love…

Love and poets, fools, dreams and seekers.

– Che Chidi Chukwumerije.

FRIENDS AND CASTLES, LAKES, MOUNTAINS AND MYSTERIES

Friends are true friends when they will not go away from you in search of something which they merely sense that you can give them; and they can wait a thousand years for you, because they simply love you.

Castles are places where those who have love can live without guilt, and those who have no love cannot live without guilt, because every castle is an amalgamation of the qualities of the souls that inhabit it. Castles breathe.

Lakes, although they treasure a mystery, will only show you your own face, and if you must know what lies inside the heart, then you must break through the face on the surface of the lake. Lakes speak never.

Mountains are mighty until you have conquered them… and then they become mightier than ever, each mount, but now you know why it stands there, because you have crowned it. Even after you die, the mountain will remember those who crowned him once, and forever; and when you return again, he will whisper your name not once, but thrice… mountains live forever in my heart. You are my heart, sweet woman.

Friends and castles, lakes, mountains and mysteries.

– Che Chidi Chukwumerije.

SAVING THE HUMAN RACE

Another typhoon
Another tsunami
Another hurricane
Another earthquake
Another flood
Another fire
Another loss and pain and tragedy
Why am I still counting all this heartbreak?
We will all fall victim some day
To another natural accidental act of fate
It is our one united destiny upon this mysterious earth.

And then the wars and the migrations…
Some say they are human-made
But don’t blame only the countries involved
Many other people and governments secretly share the blame too.

We suffer as a continuum,
One humankind.

If these things don’t bring us together as one human race, then nothing will. Saving the human race is not just about saving lives. That is just the one half of it. The other is the anchor: It is about preserving the humanity in us when we let another’s suffering touch us and move us to help. We save two human beings. Them and us.

– Che Chidi Chukwumerije.

FAÇADES

When your friends frown at you, as you wonder what you have done wrong, remember that frowning can be a façade with which the supreme virtue in you masks its beauty, because of your envy or its love.

And when your friends smile, as you endeavour to smile along, remember too that smiling is the most convenient façade behind which the supreme vice in you can hide itself and remain undetected, unchecked.

And tears, even tears – our most sacred tears – cannot be trusted. For save when you cry to yourself alone, you betray. Friend, when you cry to me, you betray me, so long as you know why you are crying. And if you do not possess this knowledge, then it is your soul that betrays you. And you still betray me.

And, finally, there is Seeming, ah, Seeming… the supreme garment of all, which I weaved my very own self. Nothing is as dear to me as my Seeming, for it ensures that when I am with you I can feel at home without, at the same time, ceasing to feel completely at home with myself. Yes, Seeming is indeed the supreme garment, almost tending towards nature. Almost. If only it did not leave me divided amongst myselves – I cannot stand!

Façades. People hide behind façades, of ignorance or wisdom, of inarticulateness or eloquence, of bravery or cowardice. Human hides innocence and nakedness behind façades, for fear of being shunned by fellow human for being mad or simply different. We hide behind façades of which lying is barely even one. And the worst part of it all is that we have forgotten, forgotten going into hiding, forgotten who, forgotten what, we really are – and, in our gruesome attempt to belong, have finally become the façades behind which we die.

Think of a worse hell, and I’ll give you a clap.

 – Che Chidi Chukwumerije.

MANDELA, LEARNING FROM OTHERS’ MISTAKES: 11 – (Africa, Unite)

At independence, South Sudan’s problems were and are daunting – but no more daunting and unique than the situation in the majority of African nations at their independence also, five decades earlier. Thus, everything happening in South Sudan today – South Sudan and the African Union (AU) should have seen this coming. That an organisation which has spent decades operating as a rebel group is going to have difficulty transforming itself overnight into a legitimate, democratic, parliamentary government is self-explanatory and has antecedents in Africa and the world. That a poverty-and-famine-stricken, largely peasant, oil-rich, infrastructurally poor, multi-ethnic nation, newly sovereign, without the familiar ancient common foe to unite against, is going to need the selfless Service of a revolutionary Leadership that makes the people understand that division, egocentricity and disintegration are the new common foes which they have to unitedly defeat now, is a lesson history has taught us. Not the familiar endless paper-rounds of ceasefire agreements will bring salvation to this new State now, and salvage and build upon whatever is left of the momentum of independence, but the self-sacrificial and deeply clear will of a Leadership that sounds the bell of reconciliation and genuine participatory upbuilding across the length and breadth of the land, in every South-Sudanese soul. Now more than ever, South Sudan needs leaders who think and act like Nelson Mandela.

No-one can tell if in the near or distant future, new African states will or will not break out of the existing, arbitrarily created, states of tension left behind by colonialism and in turn become “independent”, or whether a deeper calm will gradually set in within these countries of myriad states as they meld into functional united nation-states – but in the unpredictable nature of human history, who can tell? Yet one thing is for sure: no matter what happens, each state of tension will either bend to the gentle force of “Mandela-like” minds within its polity that push towards painful and tedious reconciliation, unity and harmony, or it will disintegrate sooner or later into internal chaos, like the majority of “independent” African nation-states all did, and like South Sudan is also now going through. There are those that will tell you that chaos is the necessary precursor to order; but six decades of African independence would also suggest that chaos, unchecked and unpacified, simply continues to beget even greater chaos.

The African continent is a kaleidoscope, a jigsaw puzzle, of hundreds of tribes and ethnic groups. If the continent does not intend to end up ridiculously splintered into innumerable mostly micro-mini single-tribe pseudo-nations, at odds with one another, weak, open to rape, exploitation and so-called “intervention”, then our countries and nations are bound perforce to remain multi-ethnic, multi-lingual, multi-religious and multi-ideological. There is nothing we can do about it – this is the state in which we crossed path with the modern world. Of all continents, Africa above all is damned to unite or perish. Africans have no choice but to learn how to live in unity if they do not want to self-destruct and be eventually gradually re-colonised, steps towards which are already being actively, if surreptitiously, undertaken – economically, militarily, politically. Re-colonised by all those loving donor nations, East and West, who like to break bread into crumbs and miraculously shower us with fish, but never really teach us how to fish. Because, I guess, why should someone else teach you how to fish? –

But, watch fisherfolk when they go out to sea: to be successful, they do it in unison, in unity.

Christian or Moslem or Animist or whatever other faiths we differently follow, whatever our different tribes, our different tongues or our different races, our orientations, our ideologies, or our classes… the song is simple:

Africa, unite.

Che Chidi Chukwumerije.

Preceding Chapters:
MANDELA, LEARNING FROM OTHERS’ MISTAKES: 1 (Preamble)
MANDELA, LEARNING FROM OTHERS’ MISTAKES: 2 (Egypt’s Modern Pharaohs)
MANDELA, LEARNING FROM OTHERS’ MISTAKES: 3 (Tunisian Troubles, Libyan Losses, Ethiopian Woes)
MANDELA, LEARNING FROM OTHERS’ MISTAKES: 4 (Sudan and South Sudan)
MANDELA, LEARNING FROM OTHERS’ MISTAKES: 5 – (Ghanaian Black Holes & Ivorian Time Bombs)
MANDELA, LEARNING FROM OTHERS’ MISTAKES: 6 – (Nigerian Nightmare & Congolese Chaos)
MANDELA, LEARNING FROM OTHERS’ MISTAKES: 7 (Ugandan Up-n-down)
MANDELA, LEARNING FROM OTHERS’ MISTAKES: 8 – (Angolan Angers, Zimbabwean Tragedy and a host of others)
MANDELA, LEARNING FROM OTHERS’ MISTAKES: 9 – (Sharing Power and Passing it on)
MANDELA, LEARNING FROM OTHERS’ MISTAKES: 10 – (Jasmin Revolution and repeated mistakes)