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THE PILGRIM, Friday 24, December 23, 2021
By the time I sit down to write this column, a lot would’ve happened in any given week.
From my vantage point in the United States, some events prove to be rib-cracking comedy.
For example, I couldn’t contain my laughter two days ago when I heard that a certain well-known professor, who goes by the initials KKM, had to deactivate his Meta (Facebook) account after the public lashed at him for throwing shade on Chibamba Kanyama’s claim to the title of economist.
Can you imagine that?
Mr Kanyama took one of the professor’s daily musings as an indirect jab at him; but that’s not the subject of today’s column, suffice to say that the former IMF employee did well to reply to the professor’s post and defend his qualifications and related accomplishments.
And while we’re at it, the fuss over academic qualifications in Zambia baffles me, as it would the easy-going Indian driver who I am told signs his business cards as Dr. Ahmed Patel, PhD, whereby his Dr prefix means Driver and the PhD means Paid Hired Driver.
The point is that whether you’ve a PhD or not, let’s learn to be cool heads!
Far from being an anti-intellectual myself, I’m of the view that we should start placing a higher premium on execution rather than academic papers.
You’ll think this is a joke but with degrees in economics and physics, our billionaire friend Elon Musk designs advanced rockets and spacecraft in America, and with degrees in professions other than journalism, such as law and political science, many characters (I have Megyn Kelly in mind) have risen to become top journalists at news organisations like CNN and BBC.
Take it to the bank!
Away from that note, let me reflect on what sort of year 2021 has been.
Having had a great start to this year personally, I couldn’t speak of any anti-climax or personal tragedy until November, when a close mentor, Simon Mwale, who had long served Zambia as a boxing columnist and public relations guru, died.
I have very fresh and fond memories of the witty and unassuming journalist because we spoke virtually every week until November.
As old as he was, Simon was an honest and gracious friend.
There are some of you who remember him from his two columns in the Times of Zambia, Boxing Ring and It Happened To Me.
But his role in my life was that of confidant and co-strategist, especially when I made bold decisions like resigning from my job to undertake postgraduate studies in the United States.
He had told me about his treatment regimen after he was taken ill, but we shrugged it off as a hurdle that would eventually pass, and we often spoke about the day we would meet again in Lusaka after finishing my studies.
Clearly an enthusiast of friendship, Simon saved my phone number and called me in 2018 after one of my articles in the Times of Zambia impressed him.
“Hello, is this Victor Kalalanda?” he said in his near husky voice.
“Yes, it is,” I said.
“I read your article in the Times of Zambia and it’s the sort of thing I like. I write a column for the paper, and I’d want us to work together,” he said.
We would meet from his house through the years that followed, and he would go on to write my recommendation letters, in his capacity then as a Zambia Daily Mail board member, when I applied for different career development opportunities.
So when he died last month, I felt as though strength had been sapped from me since I’d no longer be able to stand on his shoulders to see further.
While I may not share in his journalistic distinction, I’m proud that it was Simon’s mentorship that partly inspired me to become a columnist and seek a lifetime association with journalism.
Beyond this personal sorrow, I felt sorry for six Amazon employees who died in my state, Illinois, on Friday, December 10, 2021, when a tornado barreled through their warehouse located in a nearby city in Edwardsville.
I briefly stayed in Edwardsville when I came to the United States, before moving to Collinsville; however, I still must travel to the city every other day of the semester because that’s where my university is located.
The day the tornado happened felt innocent like any other, but a little bit more special because later in the evening we had our Secret Santa as African students under the African Students Association.
No sooner did our event end than we started receiving Tornado Warning messages on our phones.
Quite a peculiar experience for me, I’d say that it’s this potentially disastrous weather that tends to be a major concern for newcomer students to America.
By the time a Kenyan friend drove me home, I’d at least five warnings on my phone, which typically urge residents to be vigilant and take cover perhaps in a basement or an interior room, which are architectural features of every home or apartment I’ve been to in America.
As a violent column of air that develops from thunderstorms, a tornado can kill as many people as it finds in its way when it rips through property.
But while my city didn’t record any casualties, it marked a tragic ending for the six Amazon employees who took cover inside the warehouse that eventually imploded and killed them when the tornado struck.
I won’t comment about worker safety policies at billionaire Jeff Bezo’s company, but I can’t help but feel sorry for the employees who died in such a painful manner when the festive season was just starting.
I don’t know about you but, by any standards, this isn’t a good way to end the year.
*This column is published every Friiday in Zambia's best-selling newspaper, the Zambia Daily Mail
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