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Yes, it seems to have been our fate to move about upon the earth.   Whether it be with the use of 'shanks pony', our feet, or by canoes and boats, and then horses, wagons, ships and now aeroplanes.  It has been our fate to move hither and thither. When the land we live on is no longer able to sustain us, we must move or decline and die on it.  When the country in which we live, is no longer able to sustain us or all of us.  Either because the crops have tended to fail, or drought or floods and other calamities befall us, or we have become too numerous for all of us to continue to be sustained.  Then must we move to a new place which has the resources to sustain us.  But first, we must have the permission of the current occupiers, tenants of the land, citizens of the countries we aspire to move to.  And herein lies the major obstacle, challenge, in that all legal entries into a foreign country, have more than ever become conditional.  The 'right to enter another country'

  As humans, we seem to have a natural predilection to put one foot in front of the other, and then to do the same with the other foot and keep repeating the process. This has been a part of what you could call our nature, from the time we learn to walk. We have been on the move, trying to locate the horizon, you might say. However, the incentive for the majority of our species who have been on the move for thousands of years, has never simply been a matter of curiosity. For the majority of us, it has never been a simply matter of us wanting to know what is on the other side of the track, the river, the mountain or the ocean. At the beginning of our history we were probably too afraid of straying far or too far away from home.  We were afraid of the unknown, of what was out there and over there. Especially when be found out that there were other peoples like us in existence, and that they presented a threat and a danger to us. No, it was necessity that compelled, forced and coerced us

  Their son would demonstrate good evidence of having matured and making persistent attempts to live a better and more responsible life than he had led prior to his incarceration.  That he would pursue a path of mostly being honest and open, in what he saw as the right circumstances, about having been incarcerated.  That he would, again, return to using some kind of illicit drugs, which, he would argue, he is doing for ...for social reasons. Meaning that he was using it, but that he was not addicted to using it.  They, Nzuri and Mfanyakazi, would not have know, on that first evening of their son being freed, that he would have started using drugs and then suddenly stopped doing so, of his own accord.  Though not before rebelling against the "written agreement or contract" that his dad, Mfanyakazi.  Would at some point later, be insisting that he agreed to and sign. Before he would be allowed leave his hostel accommodation and came to live with them.  After his probation offic

  Sometime later she began to again complain of her shoulders paining her.  So my dearest undertook to rub her shoulders with some Ibuprofen, and endeavour for which my dear mother thank her. During the time we spent with my dear mother on her Birthday,  I endeavoured to do a bit of video call to some of her relatives. But this was only partly successful, with her being able to speak briefly with one of her daughters, one of her granddaughters, and one of her grandsons. Was my dear mother's 101st Birthday different from all her others?  Yes, I do believe that it was. Not only because, due to the Covid pandemic lockdown, she was only able to be visited by two of her relatives, and did not have a birthday party. But because she had the benefit of me reading her a Psalms, which I have not done for decades. Did she enjoyed her Birthday, and, if so, more than others she has had? Well, that I cannot really answer, though I would like to think or believe that she had done so. Despite her

  I asked her which was her favourite, but the only reply was that she had many favourites.  After interjections from my dearest, I settled on reading her Psalm 12.  Less than half way through, it dawned on me that this is probably the longest Psalm in the Book of Psalms.  So I raised this and she said I could read only half of it. In the end I read all of it, and received another thanks from from my dear mother.  So far, so good. It might yet turn out to be an exceptional day for my dear mother. After presenting her with her lunch, which she ate, my dear mother went to the bathroom and then made her way into her lounge, where she joined her daughter-in-law.  She reclined on her riser chair. A chair which she has, on more than one occasion, laid the blame for what she argues are people being spiteful towards her, as a result of their implied jealousy. We watched an old black and white movie, which I believed my dear mother got some enjoyment out of.  To be continued!

  They would not have to have their brains continuing to be the involuntary venue for  thoughts of what might and might not be happening to their son in prison.  They knew where he was now, and they knew that he was safe; that all should now be well.  Providing he remain on the straight and narrow. Providing he continues to increase his control over his temperament.  They could now entertain thoughts of, once again, being there for him more.  They hoped and felt that their son, Kazaliwa, though now a man just a few months short of his 25th birthday.   Would, might be more responsive to their attempts to be an effective influence on his thinking. On his planned or spontaneous actions. They did not know it at the time, but Kazaliwa, though he would have his wobbles and still cause them, as it were, to have more emotional pain.  Though he would cause them to worry about whether he would be able to get it together, get his act or his colloquial 'shit' together.  To be continued!

  We arrived at my dear mother's apartment probably an hour or so before noon.  She had not been expecting us because I had not told her or her care-worker that we were coming.  That as it may, when I opened her apartment's door and shouted good morning, mama, if she was surprised by our presence, she contained it very well.  There was to be other indications that my dear mother would not easily endeavour to make her 101st Birthday a particularly different or exceptional one.  Such as when she suddenly cited the pain in her shoulders, and seems to be about to start cry. Was this genuine, or was it an exaggeration?  My assumption was that it was the latter, even if my dearest would later caused me to belatedly question my untested assumption.  As the day wore on, I accessed the e-birthday card on her laptop and played and read it for my dear mother.  She thanked me ans indicated that she liked it. As she opened and appraised some presents we took to her, I enquired if she wanted