Animal behaviourist Kevin Richardson

Animal behaviourist Kevin Richardson has such an intimate bond with big cats
that he can spend the night curled up with them without the slightest fear
of attack. Richardson, 32, who is based in a wildlife conservation area near
Johannesburg in South Africa, works his unusual magic on other species too.
Cheetahs, leopards and even unpredictable hyenas hold no threats for him.
former student of human physiology who once worked with pre and
post-operative human patients, Kevin turned to animals ten years ago when he
came to the conclusion that he could trust a lion over one of his own kind
every time - well, nearly every time. Kevin says he is most confident with
animals he has known since birth, but claims he can become close friends
with any lion less than a year old, when it is still flexible enough to
accept him as part of its own pride. From: coolpictures.net

Hot chilli

Hot out of the garden, is what I like best! There is nothing better than hand picking fruits and vegetables fresh out of your garden! Hmmmm Hmmmm

Proudly South African

Its great to still see the spirit in the people of this nation!

Manual of the Warrior of Light

The warrior of light is now waking from his dream.

He thinks: ‘I do not know how to deal with this light that is making me grow.’ The light, however, does not disappear.

The warrior thinks: ‘Changes must be made that I do not feel like making.’

The light remains, because ‘feel’ is a word full of traps.

Then the eyes and heart of the warrior begin to grow accustomed to the light. It no longer frightens him and he finally accepts his own Legend, even if this means running risks.

The warrior had been asleep for a long time. It is only natural that he should wake up very gradually.

(The warrior of light also knows that wherever He is, His Angels are there too).

Manual of the Warrior of Light

I REPEAT:

You can recognise a warrior of light by the look in his eye.

Warriors of light are in the world, they form part of the world, and they were sent into the world without saddlebags or sandals.

They are often cowardly. The do not always act correclty.

Warriors of light are wounded by the most foolish things, they worry about trivialities, they believe themselves incapable of growing.

Warriors of light sometimes believe themselves unworthy of any blessing or miracle.

Warriors of light often ask themselves what they are doing here. Often they find their lives meaningless.

That is why they are warriors if light. Because they fail. Because they ask questions. Because they keep looking for a meaning: And, in the end, they will find it.

(And I bow down in affection and gratitude, with humility at heart and say, ‘Thank You’).

'Fishy Eye'

When We Were Kings

When We Were Kings

When we were Kings we had Nannies, Maids and Servants. We had Molos, Darkies, Kaffirs and Natives. Blacks did the washing. They made our beds and cleaned our homes. They trimmed our gardens and walked us back from school. When we were Kings they cooked our food and wiped our arses. Even though they were only ever nice to us, and did all the shitty jobs we didn’t want to, we still called them names. They called us Kleinbaas and Chief, Madam and Master. We made them eat off special tin plates and drink their sugary coffee from matching mugs. The special cutlery was always in pastel blues and greens and pinks. Kept under the kitchen sink.

Rosy/Beauty/Precious/Patience was good enough to wash out dishes but never good enough to use them. Imagine! When we were Kings we built ‘outside toilets’ for them. They were never tiled and always had terrible plumbing. They made perfect terrifying dungeons to lock up our siblings.

When we were Kings ‘our girl’ had knees that shone like patent-leather from scrubbing our floors on all fours each day. Her body was thick from a diet almost entirely of starch. Her immense weight cracked her flat black feet. We never saw her hair – it was always hidden under a doek. She’d disappear when our parents got home. Hiding in her little room at the back of the house – the servant’s quarters – which smelled like kaya – with a springy bed on top of bricks so the Tokoloshe couldn’t get her. Because our blacks only had an outside toilet there was always a brick of Sunlight soap next to a plastic bucket they used to bath. When we were Kings our blacks were not like other blacks – ours was a ‘good one’. Not miced p in anything. Never talked back. Did what they were told. You could leave valuables out. You could leave the doors open. Garden-boys smelled like Simba chips.They smoked BB tobacco in pages torn from the Bible. Always drunk or goefed.

When we were Kings we’d tell beggars to ‘Go ask Mandela’. When we were Kings we used to go ‘kaffir-bashing’. (One time someone’s older brother saw a drunk black outside of his house, and killed him. He was put under house arrest until he finished Matric. But the guy he killed wasn’t drunk – he was retarded). When we were Kings we’d settle disputes by saying ‘eerie, meenie, minie, mo, catch a niggar by his toe’.

When we were Kings we’d stick our head out of the car window and shout, ‘Why you so black – you sick?’ at black people walking down the street. When we were Kings our dogs only bit at blacks. We named them things like Voetsek because we thought it would be hilarious if a black was telling the dog to go away and was actually calling it. Getting it even more excited!

When we were Kings the only blacks at our school were the ground staff. The time we’d see them was then they picked up the sandwich crusts we tossed on the rugby fireld at break time. When we were Kings we told our teacher Muss Hauptfliesch, that Paulo – a Porra from Angola – had coloured in his Photostat Jesus black. She gave Paulo another Photostat printout of Jesus and told him to use the appropriate ‘flesh’ crayon.

When we were Kings our parents acquired beachfront property in the Transkei by giving the chief of the village a bottle of brandy and a fishing rod. When we were Kings our Nanny wasn’t allowed onto the beach so we used to bring her back two litter Coke bottles filled with seawater.

When we were Kings Noddy was friends with Golliwog, and Dina Doll, and the National Party censors banned Black Beauty because they thought that it was porn.

Things have changed though – we’re no longer royalty. We’re now a nervous previously advantaged minority living in the new South Africa. you see, Siener van Rensburg (South Africa’s very own Nostradamus), once said that after Mandela dies the whites would be driven from the land. The rivers, Siener saw, would run red. Genocide is quite possible when you consider how our president Jacob Zuma once saying Umshini Wami (Zulu for ‘Bring Me My Machine Gun’) at every opportunity.

When we were Kings we used to say that our blacks were ‘getting white’ whenever they forgot their place. Now we can only hope that they don’t decide to show us just how white they can get.

Written by: Dylan Muhlenberg. Image by: Peet Pienaar. Page 15, from Mahala 1 (December 2010).