Winter is coming

The sun shines brightly, but in the mornings and evenings it gets chilly. No wonder that Zambians are stocking up on their winter’s clothes. In this roadside stall the main item for sale are gloves. Who would have thought that there is a thriving market for gloves in Zambia?

An owl’s tale

Last weekend, a colleague found an owl hanging in a tree. It was strung up by its wings. Later in the day it was gone. Yesterday, we discovered this barn owl sitting in a tree. It was obviously weak and its wing was hanging by its side. Fortunately we got in touch with a someone with some experience in rescuing birds. He was able to catch it and take it to his home to care for it. After drinking and eating, the owl looks much better. Its wing is still hurt, but doesn’t seem to be broken. We hope that with rest and care the owl can be released back into the wild!

I’m happy that we were able to do something for this animal. But a concern remains: Why would someone hang a living owl up in a tree? That just seems very cruel. This situation reminded me of a quote by Albert Schweitzer that a teacher in religious education once taught me: “I am life which wants to live amidst of lives that want to live.” Let’s treat both people and living creatures with reverence!

Suburbia in Zambia

Just a few miles out of Kabwe we stumbled upon this unlikely scene: rows of terraced houses with carports and small gardens. So different from the usual bungalows on walled plots. It could almost have been the Netherlands. Who lives there? What do they make of their suburban dream home? Is this the new Zambia?

Dream tree

When we had just moved to Zambia, people often asked us: What is it that you miss most? The presumed answer – I guess – was ‘my family’ or ‘that the power stays on’ or ‘pindakaas’. What I used to answer, however, was trees. I missed the trees I grew up with. Trees here, they have another shape. Their leaves are just not right. Their bark is different. Maybe that’s why I like to play around with my photographs of trees: to highlight the sense of not-belonging that they give me.