Janet Green

Why “Habari”?

Why “Habari”?

Why ‘Habari’?

Some readers may have noticed that Habari is the publishing name of my books and wonder what it means. Well, Habari is a Swahili word meaning news or information.

Swahili (also called Kiswahili) is one of the two official languages spoken in Kenya, English being the other. Apart from these two languages, there are forty-two ethnic groups of Kenyans who have their own dialects, so both Swahili and English are second languages to most of the inhabitants of the country.

The English language was inherited from Kenya’s British colonial past and is the language of choice in business, academics, and social set-ups in Kenya. Swahili is the national language and is a unifying African language spoken by nearly 100 percent of the Kenyan population.

The purest form of Kiswahili is spoken along the coast where native Swahili people live. It is very complicated in its structure and is considered to be a Bantu language. The up-country Swahili tends to be more colloquial, and this was the Swahili the settlers learned in the early days when they came out to develop Britain’s colony of Kenya.

After being away from your farm, business or house for any length of time, leaving it in the tender care of whomever you had employed for the job, the first question after greeting that said person would be: ‘Ni habari gani?’ (What’s the news?).

Now, in the African culture it would be incredibly rude to launch into all the misfortunes that had occurred whilst you had been away, so inevitably the answer would come back – ‘Oh, everything’s fine, absolutely fine, no problems at all.’ Then there would be a slight pause and the dreaded word you were waiting for would be spoken: ‘Lakini’. Lakini means ‘but’ in English, and after it was said you would hear that your prize bull had died after being bitten by a snake, your dogs had been fighting, the cat hadn’t been seen for days, and the office had been broken into! That was the sort of habari you really did not want to hear!


Find out more about my latest book by reading a preview HERE. It’s on sale on Amazon–check out the two links below:

KINDLE

PAPERBACK

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Autumn–Stormy Weather (September 2016)

Autumn is upon us and change is in the atmosphere. The leaves are already falling and dancing to the tune of the autumn winds, and there is a freshness in the air that has prompted the migrating birds to fly to a country where the sun is still warm and friendly. The autumn colours are lovely, but there is a sombre feel to this season – a warning that the time of regrowth and reproduction is now at an end and it is now a time for reflection and survival through the coming winter months.
autumn-1-leavesChange is not welcome if you suffer from dementia. If things could only jog along without any change, month after month, it would be better – easier. The smallest of changes are confusing, upsetting even. Different clothes, warmer bedding, the need for a heater or electric-blanket all become major disruptions in life. There must be a long debate to decide if these changes are really necessary, and when they are implicated it takes time to become accustomed to them. My job is to make the transition as seamless as possible for Mum and, with her indomitable spirit, she takes on what has become a challenge for her unflinchingly, there have been many unwanted changes in her life of almost ninety years and this is just one more!

 

autumn-2-toto-b autumn-2-toto-aToto doesn’t like the heat at all, so she loves autumn. The freshness in the air seems to rejuvenate her and on her walks she greets all her admirers, both human and animal, with a new enthusiasm. Her arthritic joints are forgotten as she prances around younger dogs, welcoming a few seconds of play before we move on. When we get to places where there is a covering of soft green grass she must have a roll. For her it is especially nice if the grass is dew soaked or frosty or covered by light snow. I don’t know why this should be – it must be a ‘dog thing’. Best of all for her, dare I say it, is when she finds something absolutely disgusting to roll in – the smellier the better! This results in her having to have a shower when we return home. She has to sit on Mum’s shower chair and have the ‘delicious’ aroma scrubbed off her body and washed down the drain. You can see in her reproachful eyes that she thinks this is a waste, but she realises that it must be a ‘human thing’ – and she rather enjoys the shower!

autumn-3-flowers-a autumn-3-flowers-b

Autumn isn’t a bad month if you’re a writer. There are less distractions in the garden. The grass and hedges grows slower so don’t need cutting so frequently. The flowers that have been so beautiful all summer have reached their full potential and there is nothing more you can do for them until winter sets in, and then everything has to be cut back and made ready for the bleak months.

That means there is more time to write, to immerse yourself in your characters’ lives, get to know them better, live with them through their trials and successes. When you are with them your own life falls away, you are in another place, another situation, you feel what they are going through.

autumn-4-thunderThe biggest distraction lately has been the thunderstorms we’ve been experiencing. Mum doesn’t like them very much and Toto is terrified by the noise and tries to hide in ridiculous places where she can’t possibly fit – like under the bookshelf! But I love the drama and excitement of a big thunderstorm, with brilliant flashes of jagged lightning punctuated by huge crashes of thunder and bombarding rain. It thrills me to think of a bigger power demonstrating his authority over this puny and sinful world.

I especially like thunderstorms if they come during the night because they are even more dramatic. I feel the power of them vibrating up through the soles of my feet, and the electrical discharges of the lightning seem to connect with the electricity in my own body and energise me in a strange way that I cannot explain. I only know that during the day after the storm I have a clearer head, ideas come to me more readily – and for that day I am a better writer!

Listen! Listen to the roar of his voice, to the rumbling that comes from his mouth. He unleashes his lightning beneath the whole heaven and sends it to the ends of the earth. After that comes the sound of his roar; he thunders with his majestic voice.

Job 37: 2-4

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Round, like a circle in a spiral

Round like a circle in a spiral, like a wheel within a wheel
Never ending or beginning on an ever spinning reel
Like a snowball down a mountain, or a carnival balloon
Like a carousel that’s turning running rings around the moon
Like a clock whose hands are sweeping past the minutes of its face
And the world is like an apple whirling silently in space
Like the circles that you find in the windmills of your mind!

These are the lyrics of the beautiful song ‘Windmills Of Your Mind’, but right now the words express my life. Life has to go forward and of course mine does, but in a whorled or spiral motion. It has to be like that because of the very special person with whom I live.

Jean and Jan

Jean and Jan

Dementia is the most horrible disease. It steals away a person’s life very slowly and painfully. It’s like pulling a plaster off a hairy part of your anatomy very gradually so that each pulled hair is agonisingly extracted, and it hurts those who witness it almost as much as those who are suffering from it.

The memory is such a precious thing and when one gets old it is sometimes the last pleasure one has, remembering all the beautiful and funny things that have happened in a lifetime of events. But dementia steals that pleasure away. Things in the past become fuzzy and confused, while things that have happened recently are completely stolen away almost immediately.

Helping a person with dementia to live a pleasant life can be challenging, but a strict routine and an unchanging rhythm to the days help to stabilise that person and give them perspective. So on any given day in the week the same things need to happen, be it cleaning, shopping, laundry or whatever. The time we rise in the morning must be the same each day, and the time we retire to bed must not vary. Meal times must be set and bath time is always the same. Every little thing that is done during the day has its proper time, and it continues to happen in an unvaried pattern day after day, so eventually the days seem to spiral past … ‘never ending or beginning on an ever spinning reel.’

Toto smiling

Toto

Into this rather bland lifestyle there is a splash of brightness in the form of Toto, my little fat Staffy. She, too, is getting old and is suffering from arthritis and cancer, but she doesn’t know or care about this and she behaves like she always has – in a rather mad but endearing way. In Zambia they would say she was completely penga (crazy). She feels her mission in life is to make people happy and this she does with aplomb. Everyone who comes here gets the famous ‘Toto welcome,’ be it a workman or a friend. Big Staffy grin as she prances around them with her eyes alight with pleasure and her wagging tail a blur. Long tongue licking any bit of exposed leg or arm it can find, moth-eaten toys proffered with love, ears nibbled if the recipient bends down to pat her, and all done with such an air of exuberant ecstasy it fairly takes the breath away. Dog-lovers think she’s lovely – those who are not too keen on dogs really hate her! Mum and I love her of course – we think she’s the best!

Mum spends much of her time watching the birds and squirrels in our garden. It gives her hours of pleasure and when she is thus occupied I know she is safe and not trying to do something she can no longer manage. During this time I can creep away to do some writing. I was not blessed with an academic mind, instead God decided to give me an over active imagination so I channel this into my writing. It is a blessing for which I am really grateful. Some of which I write gets published, much does not, but the words keep coming and stories weave together in my head and then ricochet around in my mind until I’m compelled to sit down and type them out.

A man’s steps are directed by the Lord. How then can anyone understand his own way?
Proverbs 20: 24

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