Africa Is Not Poor: Africa is Poorly Managed And Exploited.

Good afternoon. I am Mallence, and I come from the richest country in the world.

It is located in the richest continent in the world, in the West of the richest continent. My country is called Sierra Leone. On the surface we are blessed with infinite beauty and abundance of flora and fauna, producing the most exquisite harvests of coffee, cocoa, fruits, vegetables and caoutchouc. You name it, we’ve got it.

We also have diverse wildlife and vast marine resources, and waterfalls, and rivers that run into the most beautiful beaches. The land is golden; literally, a true paradise, which of course is inhabited by the most beautiful souls.

We have a very strong cultural heritage. In fact, Sierra Leone had the first sub-Saharan university. Prior to that there was one in the kingdom of Timbuktu, which was the first university in the world, succeeding the great Gnostic schools of Egypt and Osiris.

On a deeper level, we are blessed with the real treasures the kings and queens of this world desire. This was the largest alluvial diamond ever found. It weighs almost a thousand carats, 969 to be precise. This beauty was found by an old lady in her backyard about 2 years ago, 125 carats. Some people mine gold in their backyards. That’s quite common.

Besides gold and diamonds, we have about 20 precious minerals that have been discovered as of today. We recently started extracting huge petroleum reserves that have been discovered. We have platinum, ilmenite to make titanium, rutile to coat jets, iron ore, the largest iron ore deposits in Africa, the third largest in the world. Tantalite, also known as coltan, used in your mobile phones and computers.

Bauxite for aluminum production, zinc, chrome ore, copper, coal, phosphates, potassium, salt, lead, granite, asbestos, nickel, zircon. Furthermore, we have exquisite timber, like mahogany and teak. And we have the most beautiful stamps in the world.

Of course, the West needs Africa’s resources, most desperately, to power airplanes, cell phones, computers and engines. And the gold and diamonds of course: a status symbol, to determine their powers by decor, and to give value to their currencies.

One thing that keeps me puzzled, despite having studied finance and economics at the world’s best universities, the following question remains unanswered: Why is it that 5,000 units of our currency is worth one unit of your currency, when we are the ones with the actual gold reserves?

It’s quite evident that the aid is in fact not coming from the West to Africa, but from Africa to the Western world. The Western world depends on Africa in every possible way, since alternative resources are scarce out here.

So how does the West ensure that the free aid keeps coming? By systematically destabilizing the wealthiest African nations and their systems, and all that backed by huge PR campaigns, leaving the entire world under the impression that Africa is poor and dying, and merely surviving on the mercy of the West. Well done, Oxfam, UNICEF, Red Cross, Life Aid, and all the other organizations that continuously run multimillion-dollar advertisement campaigns depicting charity porn, to sustain that image of Africa, globally. Ad campaigns paid for by innocent people under the impression to help with their donations.

While one hand gives under the flashing lights of cameras, the other takes, in the shadows. We all know the dollar is worthless, while the euro is merely charged with German intellect and technology, and maybe some Italian pasta. How can one expect donations from nations that have so little? It’s super sweet of you to come with your colored paper in exchange for our gold and diamonds. But instead, you should come empty-handed, filled with integrity and honor. We want to share with you our wealth and invite you to share with us.

The perception is that a healthy and striving Africa would not disperse its resources as freely and cheaply, which is logical. Of course, it would instead sell its resources at world market prices, which in turn would destabilize and weaken Western economies, established on the post-colonial free-meal system.

Last year, the IMF reports that six out of ten of the world’s fastest growing economies are in Africa, measured by their GDP growth. The French treasury, for example, is receiving about 500 billion dollars, year in, year out, in foreign exchange reserves from African countries based on colonial debt they forced them to pay.

Former French president Jacques Chirac stated in an interview recently that we have to be honest and acknowledge that a big part of the money in our banks comes precisely from the exploitation of the African continent. In 2008, he stated that without Africa, France will slide down in the rank of a Third World power. This is what happens in the human world, in the world we have created.

Have you ever wondered how things work in nature? One would assume that in evolution the fittest survives. However in nature, any species that is overhunting, overexploiting the resources they depend on as nourishment, natural selection would sooner or later take the predator out, because it offsets the balance.

Now that I shared my perspective with you, I would like to share my initiatives with you. As a Sierra Leonean, I am a diamond expert. I find them in the rough. What nature created from the darkest substance, under the influence of heat and pressure, transforms into the strongest, most brilliant rocks.

These rocks have the consistency to sustain an entire nation. These will be our future leaders. Please meet the FOLORUNSHO creative collective I formed with 21 street kids that were orphaned and displaced as a result of the Sierra Leonean civil war, and ended up living in the street as early as age 3, growing up as outlaws of society.

The Author: 

Change Your Channel at TEDxBerlinSalon (Transcript)

Mallence Bart-Williams is a Sierra Leonean - German multi-facetted social entrepreneur

 

                                             POISON ON THE PLATE

            Image COURTESY

Humanity is threatened. The whole world has been under siege in the hands of a virus manufactured in some sophisticated bio-safety level 4 laboratories in Wuhan, China. Conspiracy theorists claim so, and all facts point towards that. Or will you buy the wet market narrative? Anyway, isn’t everything made in China? The World Health Organisation (WHO) declared Covid-19 a pandemic. Many lives have been lost, and the number is escalating with each passing day. And this forms the basis of my article. Far from the Covid-19 global crisis, Kenyans are and have been dying softly and slowly. There is a serious concern of the rise of chemical laced foodstuff on our shelves. My people are dying because of little knowledge. Greed is wiping out a generation silently.

In 2011, the then Kenya Bureau of Standards (KEBS) boss Kioko Mang’eli addressing Parliamentary Committee projected a rise in cancer cases in this decade. Today, we are living this reality. Cancer has taken lives of the mighty and meek in equal measure. At that moment in time, Kenya was importing maize that had lethal levels of Aflatoxins. Did the government respond to the revelations? What did you expect? The solutions cycle remained and remains the same. First, they convene a commission of inquiry, and then publish a report and recommendations. These recommendations are meant to create an impression, and not for implementation per se. The case is buried and forgotten.

Has this trend stopped? You be the judge. Copper, mercury, yeast and moulds are the poisons Kenyans had been consuming for long believing it were genuine sugar. In 2019, an analysis carried out on samples of the 1,400 bags of illicit sugar seized by police in different operations revealed that some of the sugar confiscated was contaminated with water insoluble matter. This was a scary finding. The Ministry of Health, KEBS and Ministry of Interior led by one Dr. Fred Matiang’i confirmed that the tests carried out by the government chemist were shocking. The dangers that Kenyans have been exposed to while consuming the sugar, medics note, are capable of causing some type of cancer and harming internal organs. Despite the sacks of the sugar being labeled as ‘not safe for human consumption’ unscrupulous traders repackaged them into 1kg and 2kg, disguised as local brands. WHO indicates that elemental mercury is toxic to the central and peripheral nervous system. The international health body also points out that ingestion and inhalation of mercury vapour can produce harmful effects on the digestive, immune systems, lungs and kidneys. Does anybody care? The traders’ sole focus is on profits at the expense of human health.

Do you remember the NTV’s Red Alert expose of July 2019? The report found out that unsuspecting consumers were, and are still buying poisonous meat from different supermarkets across the country. The meat is laced with Sodium metabisulfite, a chemical used to preserve food products if applied in the right amounts. Red Alert revealed that a number of unidentified retail chains in the country use the chemical to stop meat from going bad before the same meat is repackaged, put on display and marked as “fresh and juicy”. After this expose, there was a public outcry that did not yield any fruits. We are back to business as usual. Ignorance is worse than poverty, my good friend Allan Mulanda constantly says.

We love fruits. And throughout all seasons, we buy them to meet our body vitamin needs. Investigations in the past have unearthed rampant use of calcium carbide – an artificial ripening agent – by greedy traders and supermarkets. The chemical is used to hasten ripening of bananas, oranges, mangoes and apples for sale. The chemical uniformly ripens fruits making them attractive to customers.  Samples taken from three leading supermarkets and groceries in Nairobi and Mombasa tested positives for this chemical which is used for welding and making plastics. Research has it that wholesalers in major fruits markets of Gikomba, Nairobi, Marikiti and Kongowea in Mombasa are using the chemical secretly.

We become what we eat. The use of pesticides has skyrocketed over the years following the emergence of the new pests and diseases as the world struggles with harsh effects of climate change. Agricultural specialists have raised the red flag, noting the high pesticide usage is a threat to consumers, the environment and is unsustainable. Most Kenyan farmers are misusing pesticides thus compromising food safety. Route to Food Initiative, a sustainable farming organisation, elucidates that many pesticides are acutely toxic, have long-term toxic effects, are endocrine disrupters, and are known to cause a high incidence of severe or irreversible adverse effects. They proceed to assert that there are products on the Kenyan market, which are certainly classified as carcinogenic, mutagenic, endocrine disrupters, neurotoxic and many which show clear effects on reproduction. In the same vein, Bitter Harvest, the African Uncensored documentary on use of pesticides in Kenya – paints a sad state of affairs, in their study, some chemicals used in Kenya are banned in some parts of the world.

There is another thriving criminal underworld that is more interested in transformer oil. They dice with death while siphoning oil from the transformers. Reports have established that transformer oil is sold locally in the shops. Researchers have disclosed that crooked fast-food owners mix the oil with the cooking oil and use it to deep fry chips, chicken, bhajias, samosas and mandazis among other food stuff. Apparently, unlike vegetable oil, transformers oil is stable when heated. Therefore, these criminals mix it with cooking oil to prevent the latter from darkening or deteriorating fast. Usually when exposed to heat as it happens when frying fish and chips, vegetables oil depreciates faster. But when it is mixed with transformer oil, one can reuse it for several months without it darkening. Transformers oil, which is made from petroleum, when used for cooking has adverse health effects on the body. Petroleum oil contains chemicals that are unsafe when ingested. People should be careful of what and where they eat.

Recently the police raided a godown in Kariobangi South, Nairobi, where expired rice and sugar were being repackaged. The businessman had been repackaging rice, sugar and popcorns in new bags showing reviewed manufacturing and expiry dates. In the same building, Brazilian sugar repackaged as Ndhiwa Sukari was seized. In another case, police arrested two people who were repackaging expired wheat in Dandora, Nairobi. On different occasions we have had many foodstuff ranging from maize flour, peanut butter to loaves of bread being taken off the supermarket shelves over high levels of chemicals. These usually occur after consumers have been exposed to these goods for a substantial amount of time.  If you eat expired or spoilt food, you could develop symptoms of food poisoning. How many times have you had food poisoning and could not trace the toxic food you consumed? The symptoms of a food borne illness can include fever, stomach cramps, diarrhoea, nausea, and vomiting. Expired food may contain dangerous amounts of lethal bacteria. Notably, some bacterial toxins found in expired food can damage the kidney and possibly be life threatening.

Do I need to remind you that the mouth-watering piece of chicken that you regularly devour at your local restaurant or in your house could be contaminated with Anti-Retroviral (ARV) drugs, which are meant to slow down the horror HIV virus? Reliable information points that commercial farmers are adding ARVs to broiler feed to enhance weight gain and are able to sell off the fowls at four weeks. Kenyan farmers are not the only ones in this apparent mischief, in Uganda, there are reported cases of misuse of ARVs to fatten pigs, while in Zimbabwe, Parliament was in recent times told of instances whereby chicken imported from Brazil being smeared with embalming fluids normally used on dead bodies in order to preserve them and make them appear fresh by the time of being sold. Your mama githeri and that beloved restaurant are not as innocent as they look, they allegedly use panadol; the popular painkiller to tenderize meat, maize, beans and green grams so as to save on cooking fuel. We are not safe.

Months ago in Kenya, Twitter was awash with claims that a certain brand of bread in the market was being preserved using formalin. Formalin, a colourless substance is derived from formaldehyde, which is a known cancer causing agent. The best known use of formalin is the preservation of dead bodies in the mortuaries. It can also be used illegally to increase the shelf life of fresh food. By using this unsafe preservative, the intention of the manufacturer is to ensure longer shelf life of the product. So if these allegations about it being used to preserve bread are true, how long have Kenyans consumed formalin in bread? How many are at risk of contracting cancer because of this?

Our food should be our medicine. Or medicine will be our food. When will all these practices be addressed? Why are we digging our own graves? Why are we this greedy? Our compromised public health institutions are toothless and ill equipped. In most cases they are in bed with the unscrupulous traders. We are a dying people. Ignorance is worse than poverty. My people are dying because of greed. As we fight the killer Covid-19, we must not lose sight of the dreaded cancer. It is time we clear the mess in the food industry if we are to save this generation.

Allan Tom Odero  

Sociologist (BA), Researcher, Socio-political Critic and a Development Practitioner. Currently pursuing Law (LLB).

Positive Thinking

To be able to notice and appreciate even the smallest things in our lives that make us happy is a an art.

Overlooking flaws, not concentrating on mistakes or things we are missing and also, being grateful for all that is working for us well is  needed for a hopeful life.

Do you remember the books called “Where is Waldo?” I had a couple of them when I was a kid. Basically, it was a game on perception, teaching you to pay attention to details, by careful concentration and visual skills. Your job was to find Waldo, small figure of a boy, on the pages which were a busier expressionistic form, colors and shapes in the wildest puzzle of life. Yes, I was quite successful in finding Waldo, as a matter of the fact, the more books I had with Waldo the better I got at locating him.

Well, I knew what I was looking for, so I muted and ignored all that distraction and did not pay attention even to the loudest attention seekers saying “look at me now!”. The key was not only to know who you were looking for but also to focus on finding just him, despite many other “interesting” objects.

It is very similar with our lives. Our perception of reality needs to have a goal of looking for the positive in every situation. This will give us, not only the strength to survive through difficult times, but also will highlight small and hardly noticeable aspects of our lives that are worth being grateful for.

Just like with Waldo, we need to pay an attention and filter the “negative noise “of our world to find what we are looking for. One may call it disillusion of the real life or wearing “happy glasses” but if that’s true, then worrying over every failure and unhappiness would be nothing else but wearing “dark shades” and being as much disillusion as in the first case, except by the negativity. It seems to me that choice belongs only to you and I would rather dedicate my life to find the happy and cheerful Waldo than be grumpy and depressed.

The more “happy Waldos” you find the better you get at this game. One day it will become natural and instinctual like breathing.

I am still learning and reminding myself to look beyond obvious moments of heartache and sadness. And finding comfort in learning life lessons, the one the ones we not taught in school. Having hope that future holds the answer for us and the lesson will be revealed to open our understanding and acceptance.

We are a very assertive, powerful and perfectionist society, in my opinion. We believe in achieving what we set out to have, the way we want to be satisfied and happy at the end. There is nothing wrong with good self esteem, clear goals, perseverance, maybe even touch of excellence, but to set out to obtain impossible goals, to have everything just the way we want, is leading to disappointments.

Life is unpredictable. We are not the masterminds of the cosmos and our happiness; on the contrary it is not in direct correlation with “perfectly achieved projects”, somebody said. If we follow this road, we will be looking forever, chasing our own happiness, and never holding on to it, long enough to feel satisfied.

Changing perspective to “now”, in the present, finding reasons to be happy and realizing it is in the state of mind and not attachments. This way, you are giving yourself a chance to experience life and yourself through your own reality in making, with happiness as a companion.

There are tragic situations in many lives, especially when we lose someone we love. The darkness is all around us, our heart is broken and it feels as nothing can make things better. Nothing. In this situation we need to be very patient and then hope for light entering our lives in any form possible.

Being positive and looking for it in our lives is not for the fools, if anything, it is for the brave at heart, letting hopes, faith, determination and love to fill its space, despite all the evidence to the contrary.

It is for the human spirit, which comes alive and shines the light to believe in  the impossible. Being positive is a way of life. Like anything else, we have to make the conscious choice and then commit to see everything around from that perspective.

Is it possible to make a change in life, by just being positive? I truly believe so, it is not by a magic act but, by allowing the hope and chance factor to enter our life and create more life, more possibilities and more beginnings than ends.

Is the definition of happiness after all, more beginnings than ends?

Will Be Better With You.

Gloria Sharon was nervous as she waited for her date to arrive. Allan Tom was a colleague at work. And for the last few months they had been toeing the line between harmless flirting and openly dating. While there were no established rules against intimacy between co-workers, they hesitated to this point because their project ran the risk of being jeopardized if something happened and things didn't work out.

However, now that the project had been completed, they had no reason not to take a leap into dating short of fear. Gloria Sharon usually dressed conservative during work. But, since this was a special occasion, she decided to be modish, as her older sister would say. Her flowing shoulder- strap dress fell down to her curves and she wore high heels, both of which loitered in her closet most of the time since she rarely had a chance to wear them.

Warm fingers eventually graced her bare shoulders while she waited at the table. She looked up to see it was Allan Tom.
"You made it."
"I wouldn't miss this for the world." His eyes skated over her outfit, enthralled by what they saw.
"You look...well, to say gorgeous would be an understatement"

Gloria Sharon blushed at the compliment and she brushed her hair back behind her ears.
"And you look handsome as always."
"Maybe, but you wore something special tonight." Allan Tom took his seat opposite her.
"I just came in another suit that I normally wear for work. What made you decide to wear that?"
"My sister, actually," Gloria Sharon admitted.
"When I was younger, my older sister gave me three tenets to live by when dating: be nice, be polite and be modish. I rarely get a chance to exercise the third one, but this is my first date in some time."
"Happy to be able to help there," he said with a smile.
"Always a charmer, I see..."

Gloria Sharon trailed off as uncertainty filtered about in her stomach.
"Allan Tom ?"
"Yes"
"Are you sure we should be taking things this far?" She asked. "Officially dating, I mean?"
"Do you not?" he asked. "Should we take it a step back?"
"No, it's just....." She couldn't help but sigh as she tried to put the butterflies in her stomach into words. "My last relationship didn't work out because of my work. I don't want to go through that sort of break-up again."
"Well, I don't think work will be a problem," he said." "It's where we met, as long as we remain professional on the job then it's a non-factor."
"That's true, I suppose," she said. "I just can't help but worry about how things will go tonight, and further on. It makes me nervous."
"Don't be." Allan Tom reached across the table and cradled her hands into his.
"Let's just take it slow from here on, and be honest with one another. I didn't come out of my last relationship unscathed either, but I truly believe that things with you will be better."

The confession quelled the butterflies in her stomach, setting her mind at ease. The date continued afterwards and, by the end, Gloria Sharon was certain that no matter how slow they took, things would end well between them.

Love Stings

“Can I do this?” Gloria Sharon took a deep breath and tried the door. It was locked, as she’d expected. She retrieved the spare key that Allan Tom kept under the plant pot on the landing and opened the door, remembering at the last minute to replace it before going inside.

The flat was gloomy, but not quite dark yet and she knew her way around well enough not to need to turn on the lights. She made her way straight to the bedroom and looked around. He was quite tidy for a guy. The bed was unmade as always, but the bed linen was clean enough. She straightened the sheet, shook the pillows and duvet and was pleased to see that it looked very inviting. Everything was ready. The bedside clocked showed 6:30. She guessed she had about half an hour before he’d be in from work. The beauty of working together at the hospital meant that it had been easy to find out what shift he was on. Being mates, he’d have told her anyway, but this was to be a surprise and she hadn’t wanted to spoil it by alerting him. It had been safer to check the roster.

The plastic carrier bag she had brought with her lay on the floor, and she picked it up now and examined its contents. Removing the labels from the white lace bra and panties, she laid her purchases on the bed and started to undress. She loved the feel of the new lingerie and couldn’t help glancing at her reflection in the full-length mirror that stood opposite the bed. Shoving her clothes into the bag and stowing it under the bed she slipped under the duvet and lay back knowing that in a matter of minutes she would be giving her best friend the surprise of his life.

She couldn’t quite remember when her feelings for Allan Tom had changed. She felt a little guilty about not confiding in Terry Lisa. They had been friends for ages, all three of them, working and socializing together. Things might be difficult after tonight, but Terry Lisa would understand. Friendship was one thing, but love was another and Gloria Sharon had come to realize that she loved Allan Tom. Anyway, there was no reason why they couldn’t all still be friends. It’s not as if she and Allan Tom would be running away and leaving Terry Lisa to her own devices. They’d just carry on as before, but every now and again they’d have a little ‘alone time’, like tonight. She shivered in delicious anticipation and closed her eyes, just for a minute or two.

The sound of laughter in the living room pulled her from her reverie and glancing at the clock, she realized that she had been asleep for half an hour. Allan Tom was home, but he was obviously not alone. This could be tricky, but maybe his guest wouldn’t stay long. Gloria Sharon crept out of bed and listened at the door.

“I’m intrigued,” Allan Tom was still laughing. “Where on earth did you get that idea?”

His companion didn’t reply. “Well, you were wrong, anyway. Let’s just leave it at that, shall we?”

Gloria Sharon strained to hear what was going on, but the voices sounded muffled now and she guessed that they had moved to the kitchen. Turning the handle slowly, she managed to open the door slightly, without making a sound. She couldn’t see them, but she could hear the rattle of cups, and she could smell the coffee they were making. Twitching with curiosity and frustration, she looked around her trying to decide what to do. Surely, the guest wouldn’t stay long. Allan Tom never had visitors. His social life revolved around Gloria Sharon, Terry Lisa and the hospital’s social club. He’d never spoken of any family or even mentioned any other friends.

They were back in the living room, but they weren’t talking. Pushing the door a little wider, Gloria Sharon peered through the crack. She could see the back of Allan Tom’s head and his left arm stretched out along the top of the sofa. She couldn’t see his companion at all, but she heard the distinctly feminine giggles emerging from somewhere in close proximity to him. She watched as his shoulder stiffened and he let out a deep sigh.

“Hey, not so fast, love,” he gasped. “We’ve got all evening.” He sank down out of sight and there was no further conversation.

Gloria Sharon pulled back from the door; a cold shiver ran down her spine as she realized her position. Her only thought now was escape, but that was going to prove very difficult. The bedroom opened onto the living room, and the front door was on the opposite side of the room. She was stuck, unless she dared to try to sneak past the couple on the sofa. Whatever she did, she would have to get dressed first. She started to move towards the bed when she heard Allan Tom’s voice again.

“I’ve got to take a shower and change. I won’t take long.” He was coming this way. Gloria Sharon dived under the bed. This evening was rapidly turning into a total disaster. Trying not to fidget or breathe too loudly, she lay in the dark and dusty space with her face resting on the plastic bag that contained her clothes and the memory of her romantic plans. How could she have been so stupid? Silent tears and perspiration made the bag stick to her skin but she couldn’t risk moving. She could see Allan Tom’s reflection as he undressed. Even now, the sight of him, in his black Calvin Klein boxers, was enough to take away what little breath she had left. She watched, immobilized as he removed his underwear, revealing his firm buttocks and headed for the bathroom. She risked a sigh as she heard the water running and wondered again about escaping but the bedroom door opened and Allan Tom’s guest came in.

Gloria Sharon’s heart lurched as she watched, unable to escape or look away. The woman slipped out of her uniform and placed it on a chair. She took a brush from her handbag and moved to the mirror to do her hair. Gloria Sharon could see immediately that her rival had chosen the same lingerie for this seduction as she had, but her white lace was till pristine, while Gloria Sharon’s was soiled with dust and sweat and embarrassment. How much longer would she have to endure this? She knew it was her own fault. She had carried her fantasy too far. She finally managed to close her eyes and shut out the images that were sure to follow. If only she could have closed her ears to block the sounds.

It was 8.30 when she slid out of her hiding place, creeping across the room clutching her carrier bag. Neither of the bed’s occupants moved as she slipped out of the room and dressed before letting herself out.
As she got home, she received a text message. “Coming down the club? Terry and I will be there
in half an hour. ALLAN.

Roots of Wedding Traditions

My best childhood friend is getting married in December, and for the past few months a lot of my time involves wedding “stuff”. Along the way of my new preoccupation, I developed a curiosity about the history of wedding traditions, and learnt a lot of interesting facts.

The engagement ring stems from medieval times, when the groom would pay for a bride’s hand in marriage. Part of this payment would include precious stones as a symbol of intent to marry. During the ceremony, the groom would place the wedding ring on three of the bride’s fingers, symbolizing God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit. The ring would then remain on the third finger, the ring finger. Diamond engagement rings originated with the medieval Italians, who believed that the diamond was created in the Flames of Love.

Ancient Romans believed that the vein in the third finger of the left hand led directly to the heart; therefore, this became the wedding ring finger. The placing of rings on this finger by the bride and groom joined the couple’s hearts and destinies.

Bridal showers stem from early Holland where, if a bride’s father did not approve of her choice and refused to provide her with a dowry, her friends would shower her with gifts in an effort to build her dowry. The term “bridal shower” was not actually used until the 1890s, when during one such event; the bride’s gifts were placed inside a parasol which was opened over the bride’s head, showering her with gifts.

The bachelor party initiated in fifth century Sparta, when military friends would celebrate with one another on the eve of a comrade’s wedding, toasting his last hours of freedom, and during which time, the groom-to-be would swear continued allegiance to his comrades.

In Anglo-Saxon times, if women were in short supply in a community, a bachelor would capture a bride from a nearby community, aided by a warrior companion, his best man. The best man would stay by the groom’s side during the wedding ceremony, in case the bride’s family attacked the wedding party, attempting to retake the bride. After the wedding, the best man would stand guard outside the newly married couple’s home, where they would stay in hiding long enough for the captured bride to become impregnated (the honeymoon period).

The first best men and ushers (called bridesmen or bridesknights) were used more as a militia, to fight off the bride’s angry relatives during the days when brides were captured for marriage. The women who helped the bride prepare for the ceremony were called bridesmaids or brideswomen.

During the wedding ceremony, the groom would place the captured bride on his left side and hold onto her with his left hand, so he could use his right hand (or sword hand) for defense in case of attack. Apparently, there weren’t many left-handed grooms back then. Thus, the tradition of the bride on the left and the groom on the right was born.

Bridesmaids dressed like the bride and ushers and best men dressed like the groom, to confuse jealous suitors or evil spirits attempting to harm the newlyweds.

The new, and reluctant, captured bride would usually have to be carried (sometimes dragged) over the threshold to the bridal chamber by her husband; thus the tradition of carrying the bride over the threshold.

In biblical times, the bride and groom wore a blue band around the bottom of their wedding attire, as blue was thought to represent purity. Thus, the something blue was born.

As for the white wedding dress, this was made popular in 1499 by Anne of Brittany. White does not symbolize chastity but joy.

In Roman times, a bride’s veil covered her from head to toe and, upon her death, would become her burial shroud.

During the Anglo-Saxon days, the veil was used during arranged marriages, where oftentimes the groom was not allowed to see the bride until the wedding ceremony, when he lifted the veil. In many cases, the bride was used as barter, in exchange for political alliance, land, social status or currency. The word “wedding” derives from the root term meaning wager or gamble.

The bridal bouquet was once a mixture of garlic, grains and herbs in an effort to drive evil spirits away. This eventually gave way to flowers, which symbolize fertility and everlasting love.

The tradition of giving the bride away by the father is embedded in the archaic notion that a daughter was her father’s property, transferred to the groom upon her wedding.

The garter toss came about during the 14th century, when it was customary for the bride to toss her garter to the men attending the ceremony.

Preceding and during the Middle Ages, it only took both partners stating their consent to be spouse to one another for a marriage to take place. The more traditional marriage involving a priest or minister didn’t become church policy until the 15th century.

In the early days of Great Britain, in rural areas where priests and ministers were rare, handfasting was a popular ritual, marrying the couple for one year and a day. The couple would join hands, right to right and left to left, forming the infinity symbol. After the year and day were up, they could renew their marriage permanently or for another year and day. Handfasting was the accepted form of marriage until the early 1500’s.

Ancient Romans would break a cake of wheat or barley over the bride’s head as a symbol of her fertility. It became tradition to stack cakes atop one another, forming a tower as tall as possible. The bride and groom were then to kiss over the tower. If they did so without knocking it down, a lifetime of good fortune was ensured. It was only during the reign of King Charles II of England that the wedding cake became an edible part of the ceremony, at which time, it was covered with sugar icing.

Honeymoons are linked back to ancient-time Teutonics. Weddings at that time were always held under the full moon, and afterward, the bride and groom would drink honey wine for one full moon cycle, or one month. Thus, honeymoon. Every tradition and practice has their roots. It was enlightening an experience to learn all these origins wedding traditions.

The Shadow

It was a bright sunny day when the Shadow slipped into the house. The sun shone brightly through the window and flowers scented the house with lavender. The intruder crept through the house; silent. A girl lay sprawled across the couch, a smile on her face, a book in her hand. The Shadow grinned in anticipation. Laughing with glee, it slipped into the girl’s soul. The Shadow reached into the depths and began talking to the girl. A whisper, as quiet as the wind, but as deadly as a double edged sword. The voice, dripping with poison, spoke of horrible things. It spoke of her fears, strange fears, no one knew about. But the girl did not hear. She continued with her day, not realizing the sinister force that had taken over her.

The sky, now black as coal, was full of stars. The house was silent and dark; a silent ghost wondered around the house. The girl had awoken from a restless slumber. Nightmares had driven sleep away. Moving from room to room, she saw the monsters that haunted her. Her monsters were not demons and creatures of the night. Hers were her family and friends. Telling her she is worthless. Telling her she is not good enough. Telling her to die. As she wondered, the ghost of her former self slowly slipped away.

The sun slowly began to rise. As it rose, the girl’s fear slowly melted away. The Shadow’s grip lessened and the girl began her day. Her day was like every other school day. None of her friends noticed anything. She was her usual self, just a little tired. The girl didn’t say anything, she was afraid to. She didn’t want people to worry and she thought they didn’t care. The Shadow’s relentless whispering bothered her, but she didn’t show it. The girl noticed the little things around her. The small things that made the world seem dark. The sneer on a girl’s face after talking to a friend. The faded bruises left on the face of a small boy, put there by an abusive father. A girl’s ribs sticking through her clothes from not getting enough to eat. The girl noticed all of these things, and as the sunshine became darker, the shadow’s voice became louder.

Many weeks passed. The girl was no longer her usual self. Sensing her weakness, her friends began to bully her, telling her to go away, that she wasn’t good enough, to go die. The girl was horrified. She realised her nightmares were becoming a reality. At home, she withdrew from her family and, with a face grubby with tears, the girl drew a knife to her wrist and sliced herself. The blood fell to the floor in crimson drops, staining the white tiles. The girl was flooded with relief and the darkness surrounding her seemed to dim. The girl crawled into her bed, exhausted, and fell into a restless sleep.

The girl’s days became a pattern. She would go to school and suffer through the taunts and leers. Go home to an empty house, and cut herself, on her upper leg, the scarlet blood standing out against the paleness of her old scars. The Shadow giggled in delight as the girl sank further into the darkness. Her hair became lank, her skin paled and her eyes became bloodshot from lack of sleep. The girl never laughed and seldom smiled. The Shadow had taken over, now yelling at her, screaming bile, shattering her mind. Headaches from the constant yelling. Her head pounding, her heart sinking, her pure soul now completely lost.

The girl came home to the silent house. Her former friends had been relentless today and had shown no mercy. The girl sank to her knees and began to cry, her tears tasting salty on her tongue. The Shadow saw her weakness and saw it’s chance. It called to Death, called for it to come. It materialized in front of the girl, it’s hood black as the cavity of where it’s soul should have been. It’s seraph blade shone in the afternoon sunshine and it reached out a pale skeletal hand. It called to the girl, called her name, in a soothing voice. It told her that all of her problems could disappear, nothing would ever bother her again, she just had to take his hand. The girl glanced around the room. The past, her former self, smiled out of the pictures on the walls. Her promise showed in the pictures, her friends looking at her adoringly, but now that was all gone. Slowly, hesitating, the girl stretched out her hand and her young one grasped the hand of the other standing before her.

The afternoon sun was warm, the birds sang in the trees, as a scream rang out through the house. The mother was on her knees, crying, as she held her daughters head in her lap, her hand still holding onto the blade, spiking out of her stomach. As the puddle of blood slowly spread across the floor, and the girl gasped her last breath, the Shadow left her, searching for another victim to claim.

After investigations, police later determined that the girl committed suicide, after psychologists diagnosed her with depression