Category Archives: international

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DIY(s) daily with lyness


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beautiful….part 1

flo   By  Eunice Nyimbili

I honestly don’t remember what happened, as a matter of fact, I really didn’t care at the time, who would? My mind was so engulfed in pain it literally wiped out my memory. As every passing moment brought me closer and closer to reality all I wanted to do was to make it stop.  The pain , the cry’s, the flashes of light as nurses rushed me to the ICU , the scent of death that loamed the air ; I just wanted to wake up and realize it was all a dream and I was on my bed wishing for two more minutes of sleep. But I wasn’t anywhere near home, I was on the edge of life watching time pass me by, the only thing my body knew was that I was in serious pain and it wasn’t going to stop anytime soon.

A few days later, visitors were given the opportunity to see my dilapidating body lying helplessly on the white sheeted bed. It was clear from the expression on the faces of those who surrounded me in that tensed up room that nobody expected me to live. The silence was often broken by someone sobbing when they could no longer keep their tears inside, a few whispers here and there and it was dead silent again.

I’m told I was unconscious for two weeks after that. Family and friends tell me how hopeless it felt to see me half dead, covered in bandages with nothing more than a constant beep from the pulse machine to give them hope. Hope that I would survive, that one day we were going to live these moments only in memory.

It seemed death was an easy thing to accept when it simply barged into the corridors of life, took what it wanted and left, but it was another thing when it decided to play hide and seek behind the skeletons in your past or a little hangman game as you dangled gasping for life and it ripped you down limb by limb by limb. And yes, that’s what it was doing with me. When I actually thought I was free from it all my past decided to pay me an early visit. A sudden early visit.

I was looking past the blood drip right through the window when I remembered it all. It all started a couple of years back when, as it seems to me now, I was young, immature and still innocent. Nothing could have prepared me for the drastic changes my life took when I won first princess of Golden High school at age 17. Everyone’s eyes and ears suddenly shifted to my direction and within a night I became more famous than the school principle. My face was on every notice bored and on every front cover of the local school magazine for weeks. You’re famous now, my best friend Kate would constantly tell me as we passed posters of me or some stranger waved at us while we walked up and down the pavements. I personally didn’t want to take it all so seriously for fear of what it would do to my character when my pride and ego got the best of me.

But that was before Daniel Delstone painted himself in the picture and I lost control. Being the celebrity of the school brought me in contact with new people every day. I practically got used to it. Everyone knew my name and I didn’t have to know them. The second class of people I met was the school executive; staring with the captain all the way to the health prefect. I knew it was only a matter of time before I personally got to meet Daniel, the boy of Kate’s dreams. She could kill for him. For lack of a better word, he was the definition of elegance. He was probably 6 foot tall, light, muscular, dark brown eyes and an ever welcoming smile. He was the classic type of guy which was so unlike many of the guys I knew around campus. Teachers loved him, literally. The perfect young man whose grades never disappointed. He was bound to get the annual scholar ship that the school provided to leading students. As top of my class, I knew I also stood a chance. He had been top of his class from first grade and had won awards on every annual prize giving day. To top it all up, he was the school captain. He was the perfect match for any girl, the type that no girl could resist, and no girl, except me. Kate always thought I was crazy when I would ask her what she saw in the guy. She had had a crush on him from the day she set her eyes on him in grade 9. He was a year ahead of us, and by the time I became a mini celebrity he was in his final grade. It seemed so funny to me how a parentless kid from an average family had so suddenly become to talk of “rich men high”. That’s what we commoners call it anyway.

So charmer boy and I finally met marking the beginning of my end. Our services, to the school, as we called them, required us to constantly be together. We were the icons of

the school, in quotes. Derrick, the so called Mr. GHS, was no help in all this, he was never there for the meetings nor interviews. So I was stuck with flirt boy as my date for every occasional meeting. That’s when rumors and gossip started and the guy whom everyone loved was theoretically my boyfriend.

I remembered a setting day,  must have been a Monday. Daniel and I were waiting for the deputy when he came across a news paper.

“Have you checked this out” Dan asked as he passed me that Sunday’s newspaper.

And there it was in big bold letters,’’ MISS GHS OR FIRST LADY?” front page news. What caught my attention was Kate’s name on the comment section.

“Love or not I really don’t care, after all Romeo never got his Juliet.” What was she trying to say, she honestly didn’t think the paper was telling the truth was she? And when did she get the time and courage to go drop her comment to the news office, without asking me?

“Juliet, are you here or off day dreaming of Romeo” he said as he laughed to his own amusement. “It’s not funny charmer boy! sorry, gosh!, I meant to say Daniel.”

“Charmer boy you say, that’s a first.”

I looked up to him as he stood beside me and for a moment something happened. That awkward moment of silent communication that always says more than what words could say.

“I should get going” I stood up, almost dropping the chair behind me.

“Yeh, I also should, yah, get going” he said it with so many stammers it actually hit me in the head that charmer boy actually had a humor of some sort.

“See you later D”

“Likewise B”

We smiled as we parted. I just couldn’t stop smiling. I never imagined him as the chartable kind of guy. I was on my way to the resting chambers or hostels in simpler terms that I often preferred, when I bumped into Kate.

“It’s Daniel isn’t it?” she asked


“Don’t try to act innocent, I know that smile on your face. You last had it when david was still around.”

She paused as if waiting to hear what I was going to say then she pulled out a copy of the news and asked  again, “ its Daniel ain’t it?”

What was I to say? He was the reson I couldn’t stop smilling but saying yes would give her the impression that I liked him, which wasn’t the case.

“ kate, its just the news. We both know these guys never have stories to print, they obviously had to pull up a stunt like this”

“ oh, really? then explain this!” she handed me her phone and there it was, in full bright colors, me and charmer boy kissing.

“ kate this isn’t real, you have to belive me” “I don’t know what to believe anymore B.”

From then, Kate hated me, not because of the lies that she had taken to be true, but because I had become everything she had always wanted to be.

I initially didn’t want to contest in the beauty pageant. She had competed in these fullish events the previous year.  Let’s just say it didn’t end well. She cried for days after that  and I was beside her through it all. She made herself believe that she wasn’t beautiful simply because the newspaper said it.

She literally cried for me to enter that years contest but the fact that this was all her doing had so suddenly slipped her mind and I became the thorn in her side. She just would not listen. At one point I even had to talk Daniel into talking to her, to at least try to talk sense into her head. One evening she saw him hugging me as we parted for the day and she just could not hold it in anymore. So she followed me to my room and closed the door.

“So’’, she took a long pause as she sat down by my bed.

“There’s nothing going on between you and Daniel you say”.

I looked her straight in the eye and before I could even answer she continued.

“I saw you, busy hugging each other by the cafeteria,’’ the look on her face said more the words she produced.

“It’s not what you think Kate, I can expla…”

“Explain? Explain what B?” “Huh? Tell me because I am dying to find out how you could do this to me when you know how much I really love Daniel “

“You know me better than this Kate, I’ve never liked him in that way”

Before I could say anything else she slapped me and walked out of the room. She moved out of hostel A the very same night and I witnessed as my best friend became my enemy.

As weeks passed by Kate and I stopped talking. We passed each other down the hall ways like we were strangers, maybe even less than that. It honestly hurt me so much that she wouldn’t believe me, after all the years we had been friends, she just wouldn’t believe me. I felt so alone, so depressed and mad at the same time. I remembered all the times she was by my side when my parents died in a car crush when we were just kids , she became the sister I never had. A friend indeed.  But this wasn’t like her, what was happening. I could not hold it in anymore. So I went to a certain big old tree that overlooked the vast land scape just beyond campus and I just broke down and cried. I don’t recall how long I sat there, browsing through every event up to that moment. Then last night came to mind. Charmer boy said he had something important to tell

mphatso ( my story ).. do all girls go through this?

A gift is something acceptable around the world , no matter how humble it may be . It might be small but we find it rude to complain. Nevertheless quantity, texture or size does not change its name. Even if you have not yet discovered it’s really is a gift. We call it Mphatso . I still remember when I first received my gift, it actually reached me disguised as a curse . ‘if you don’t tell me who gave you that, you will not sleep in my house’ these were the words of my father, the man who had been very loving in my life. There were tears in my eyes that I could hardly see his face. I shifted my view to the floor to allow my tear drip to the floor. The next thing I felt was a sharp pain against my cheeks that set my head on fire and a sharper sound that accompanied it was left ringing in my ears like a reminder . He did not even hear me cry because he was already gone by the time I cried out aloud. My mother stared at me from a protective distance. She too had tears in her eyes. She could not believe it either. It happened to any other girl but never did it ever cross my mind that it could happen to me. I was pregnant. 

For the first time in my life I realized how real it was, I was going to have a baby soon. I figured it out that way, it just happened so fast. I do recall we were going to a friends’ party. Mubita and I had known each other for half a year then, he was the nicest person I had ever met. He was a handsome young man and loved to chat mostly about how he felt about me. After that awesome party we went to his house, well actually it was his fathers’ house. No one was around at the time making us the owners of the whole place. We owned the place, we dance and we sang. Clearly that was an awesome moment, if I could grasp it I would make it last an entire life time . My thoughts were interrupted by a sudden open door. We all thought it was my father returning with some more punishment, when I looked up I beheld my elder sister Natasha. ‘Musonda! Ninshi? I came immediately after hearing the news’ she sat next to me on the cold floor. My sister and I fought a lot when we were kids, as we grew up we understood each other more and more. ‘Tell us, landa fye who did this?’ her voice was reassuring. I held her so close to myself and begun to cry, ‘it was…’ I lost my voice before I could say Mubita. Everyone was quiet for a while; my sister understood perfectly the reason for doing so. She stared at me with so many questions that she could not ask with our mother around . ‘nani uyo?’ her voice made both of us jerk. There was anger in her voice ‘who is this mubita?’ she walked over to me and my sister ‘Muzo, landa! Who is this mubita?’ answering was a simple thing to do now but there was no assurance she wouldn’t add her own share of punishment. Walking closer to us but only to be greeted by so much fear. Where had her motherly warmth disappeared to?

My mother is from the copperbelt where the bemba language is mostly spoken and her being bemba made quite an impact on her children . Being around her made it possible for us to speak the language of our mother than the Ngoni of our father who was from the eastern province, I guess that’s why it’s called mother tongue . She stared at me in disbelief as I answered chokingly ‘my boyfriend’. She had never heard of Mubita, to top up on that I was dating now? when father returned she was still looking at me ‘wakamba naye mwana wako?’ ( did you talk to your child )was the first question although it was to tease her . ‘mufunseni’ ( ask her )she said as she walked away quite disgusted. ‘Who is he?’ he asked. I stared at my sister for I saw refuge in her. She nodded, giving me the assurance. ‘Its…it’s….’ I hesitated ‘iwe nizakumenya!!’ ( I will beat you up ) his voice deep and full of stress. ‘Mubita’ he was confused, ‘Mubita? Who is this Mubita? Iwe nindani wamene uyo Mubita?’ his voice still hash but he sounded a little relieved, ‘okay, fine tomorrow we will take you to Mubita’s house. Get ready for that.’ He then proceeded to his room with mum rushing after him. It was clear she wanted to beg him on my behalf.  The next day I woke up knowing what the day would hold . My night was full of night mares, I hardly slept. Mubita knew nothing about this, this would be a shock for him. Ok maybe he won’t be so shocked,  we had unprotected sex and this was bound to happen. I was worried about how he would react, any way he loved me . My comforts prepared me for what was coming. Its easy to say I managed to smile due to the fact that the ordeal was over. Mubita’s home was a thirty minutes’ drive from mine. No one said a word on that journey, my sister was very supportive the whole trip. She held my hand and time to time whispered ‘it will be alright’ I was happy she was around, she was not just my sister at the time but my rock as well as my mentor. When we arrived at Mubita’s , my breath could not catch up with my heartbeat. We humbled ourselves and pretended there was nothing wrong, luck was on my side for it seemed everyone was around, his young brother Mark opened the door. He was surprised to see me among people he hardly knew, ‘halo, ulibwanji?’ my father greeted and waited for a response before he continued. ‘baliko bene ba nyumba? He was calm and had a smile on his face ‘baliko, allow me to call them’ the young boy went back in, and a minute later a woman walked out, ‘yes, how can I help you?’ she did not know any of us. ‘is this the house?’ father asked me before he turned to talk to the woman. ‘mummy tabwelela nkani ya mwana wanu mubita’ ( we have something we have to discuss with Mubita ) she stared at us for a while before she allowed us to come in. What ever we had to talk to Mubita about was supposed to be in the hearing of his parents. In fact his father had to know what was going on first. Every step into the house was a bringer of memories. I looked at the walls that witnessed my great mistake. In the living room sat a man of whom I presumed was his father. He welcomed us as his wife sat just next to him. ‘Ati balinakani na mwana wanu mubita’ she whispered to him although we could all make out what she was saying. ‘yes sir,  how may I help you?’ the man was humble and very kind. For the past thirty minutes the two men exchanged speeches, I had already lost them in the greeting . Facing the floor, my mind was in the middle of a flash back. I could remember the first day I and Mubita met in school. He was quite popular, he spoke to almost everyone. He played football in the school team and was quite skilled . Most of the time I and the girls would watch them play, I only noticed Mubita when he was given a chance off the bench. Everyone cheered as he ran onto the pitch. Who was this guy? Questions ran into my head. My best friend answered most of them as I couldn’t resist but ask her. ‘He is Mubita, he plays for the school team. Haven’t you heard of him?’ I lost her just after she mentioned his name. ‘Muzo! Iwe Musonda!’ my sister was whispering. Oh my! I was still in Mubita’s house, how long had it been? What had I missed? A few minutes later Mubita’s mother walked in followed by Mubita. I had not even noticed she walked out of the room.  He seemed shocked to see me but he hid it from his father, staring at his mother who gave him a swift signal before he sat. ‘Do you know this young lady?’ his father pointed at me. There was silence, it was at that moment that I started to feel uneasy and my faith abandoned me. ‘Mubita!?’ his voice was firm. ‘No! I don’t know her, basakila ine olo kapena basoba’ (are they looking for me or are they lost? ) he tried to humble himself but I found every word from his mouth rude and painful. He did not know it but my love for him suddenly turned into hate. I did not know he was such a liar. A no good liar, I allowed so many ideas of hate into my preoccupied mind.

My sister looked at Mubita in disbelief. ‘if you don’t mind me asking but upunzila kuti?’ she knew that if his father knew nothing of this Mubita would not lie in front of him and she was right. ‘kamwala high school’ he quickly responded. This made my father see what my sister was driving at, he picked it up from there and said ‘so ukamba kuti you are both in the same school but you have never seen or talked to her’ Mubita begun to Punic ‘imwe mwana wanga akamba ati samuziba mwana wanu, are you trying to force him into accepting vintu vamene saziba’ the woman protected her son, my mother was at that moment prepared to say something unfortunately Dad quickly held her hand. That meant calm down so she let her words burn her deep within her. Mubita’s father did not say a word and when he did we were all silent. ‘ sir, I am sure it can be hard to accept but we were not there when all this happened we cannot take either side, I assure you that if Mubita was responsible he would surely take responsibility. So make sure you ask her who really got her pregnant’.

The most painful part of all this was that I heard it all, looking deep into Mubita’s eyes was all that my frustration could allow me to do. All I could see in his eyes was a terrified little child trying to hide in his guilt. My sister held me close as we stood up to leave. For the first time I felt the weight of my own body, it seemed the lord had ignored me to punish me or something like that. On our way back home it was a de_ja_vu silence, only the engine assured us we were not dreaming . Me and my sister whispered. ‘Nalachita shani Natasha?’ (what will I do?) I asked her, for I was comfortable around her. ‘she held my hand and smiled brightly ‘don’t worry, it will be alright’ my mother was so upset she hardly said a word and tears only spoke the loudest. Then her tears made me see right through her, she was not upset. Maybe a little disappointed by the way everything was handled, her child could make a lot of mistakes but she never believed she was a liar. She looked behind with tears in her eyes. No mother wants to see her child suffer especially in such a situation. She looked back at her husband who said nothing.

My pain was far from over, when we were home my parents locked themselves in their room, I did know what expect after wards. By then all the neighbors heard about my unfortunate situation. I swore never to walk around again. An hour later my mother walked out of her bed room, it seemed she was crying from the swollen eyes. She loosened her chitenge (rapper) and gave me some money that she hid on the edge. I immediately knew just what my fate would be, ‘ngaulenifwaya please call me mwana wandi’ she hardly stopped her tears from exposing the sadness she greatly felt inside. She didn’t say anything more when father walked out. ‘Natasha,mutandize kulonga vintu mufana wako’ his voice was soft but firm. My heart was on fire, my breath failed me. I held on and fought so hard to stay conscious. ‘Daddy nipapata, nezamutandiza kuti amukulise mwana’ ( Dad please, I will help her ensure the growth of the child ) Natasha tried to defend me or should I say stood up for me. My father is the type that was so caring but he never wanted to be weak, he always made sure he taught us how to be good people, he had to punish me. It was time to face my greatest night mare.

By P.Rasy


DJ Mzenga man on metalic

welcome to the best talk on music, Metalic…….where the coolest music is found. The 2016 colour magazines December issue hosted one of Zambia’s most talked about and heard of DJs. DJ mzenga man…..bringing to the speakers his  2016  album THE BIG BOSS..

DJ Mzenga Man is a multi- award winning music producer who has Produced music for almost all the well known Zambian Musicians of the current times. he has produced Award winning and Radio top charting songs since 2012 to date for musicians such as Macky 2, Slapdee, Exile, Petersen, Ozzy, Danny, Chef 187, Cleo Ice Queen, Roberto, Bobby East and many more…


read more off the pages of  colour magazine


Getting that job (CMZ 2016)


For most of us school is a key to almost any job right. Well of course we have been told that education is the key, I wonder what is the lock or the door. This is probably how you envisioned your life. Get straight A, that degree and apply… Bahm!!! You are called ,you get the job …..was that a little sarcastic ?

Fine, allow me to go over this again. You are accepted to college, you work so hard that you finally have that degree and then the hunt which eventually pays off in getting that job, I mean you are a degree holder which would make some actually beg for you to join their company right…well…not all that seems so might turn out so. Like money and others the world knowledge is expanding. People are searching for something to hold on to. Here is a practical explanation or should I say logical explanation. A company puts up an ad offering a job. They are looking for someone who is a degree holder, under the age of 28 ( remember its their company and they do have the right to be specific) and experience of at least three years or more. You fit that description perfectly….. You apply and are picked for interview only to find out people with exactly the same qualifications and more  there waiting . It might not be clear what their qualifications would be, but seeing them there would obviously give them away. What makes you think you are perfect for the job? read more by getting the free ebook magazine


Pashion for fassion #2 celine’s dress 


The youth came up with their own style added to the colour magazine december 2016 issue.. And passion for fashion took advantage of this to produce articles like the above… Read more about it by downloading the free magazine Download here

Curls the summer trend…..

what was your coolest hair style during summer? colour magazine picked curls as the most common hairstyle in summer…tag us your picture on instagram…..

colour-magazine-summer-edition-2016-21the summer was packed with awesome styles and unforgettable creativity, yet one particular hair style seemed better than the rest…do you know why? read all about it in the new 2016 colour magazine December issue…we are the people of colour. 🙂