Interviewed, think outside the box

When you are a job seeker, especially if your peeps are not well oiled or well established in the proletariat sphere, you need to be humble and take anything that comes your way. Take the jobless me for example. It’s early in the morning. I am seated outside a relatively high-end coffee joint sipping some espresso with muffins. I am seated outside. I make orders like a boss. This feeling is just hilarious. Considering the fact that my wallet is screaming for attention having not been serviced for a while. Funny how it feels cool hanging out with the moneyed yet deep down you know you are dead broke.

I am waiting for the prospective employer to call, yet I was the one supposed to call him. I make the call. He tells me to wait as he is making some final deliberations with one of his managers. The bloke I am supposed to meet is unknown to me. I was given contact and off I was ready for a meeting. Thanks to connections, I had hope of getting a job. 

Minutes turn into hours but I still wait patiently, the double espresso I ordered comes in handy to aid in my patience. Yes this is the fate of a jobless lad whiling away time waiting for manna. But experience has taught me otherwise. Don’t be over ambitious about prospective jobs. They are just that, forthcoming illusions. I never take them seriously till confirmed.

While waiting, I get to sample the character of those who frequent this joint. They are people of means. A white lady is seated somewhere with her apple Mac doing her thing. This joint like many other of such ilk has free Wi-Fi.  I don’t inquire for the password out of fear and majorly due to the fact that at my area of residence there is free Wi-Fi.

In situations like this, just like gambling, there are two sides of the coin, there is the option of failure or success. Failure relegates you back to the status quo while success means you start ‘kuadisia mawinch’ and maybe chart the way forward. Failure also means you have to restrategize and continue with the cycle of job searching like the regular Tom, Dick and Harry.

After some hours the ‘sonko’ calls me. My acquaintance who had hooked me up with the prospective employer told me some things about the bloke.  He was previously a banker but currently a real estate developer building a 10m dollar estate in one of the pricey suburbs. This bloke had contacts and had widely networked. Hence I felt obliged to meet the guy as it meant opening up doors that had been closed.

I was not shocked to see the dude. He was simple. He had just finished working on the façade of his apartments and had a brief chat with the bloke he was giving recommendations. The bloke left. Initially I had been told to do some research on likely areas of questioning. I did that but not with the desired oomph. I guess I am more of the kind of person who loves dealing with institutions. Dealing with an individual was not something complex. In either way, I was ready for what came my way.

I introduced myself, likewise the prospective employer. He asked a very prominent question. ‘What do you want?’ the innocent being in me told him that I want to be engaged since I was not employed. I never knew what I wanted ideally. Fresh from campus and having only taken up casual and voluntary jobs, defining what I wanted was kind of tricky. I had to be arty so I just kept talking consciously but cautiously to create the impression of a person who was adept of what he wants.

What I told him was not convincing so he rephrased the question. I was caught unawares so I told him to give me a clue or hit the head on the nail of what he expected as a response. Having construed his insinuation I avidly replied. Mark you; I was not serious with this whole thing. I just wanted to reduce the monotony of being an idle mind for fear of turning into the devil’s workshop. 

He asked a couple of questions and in about five minutes I was through. I must say that I did not at any point develop stomach spiders as I saw this as a dress rehearsal for something more challenging in future. He asked the obvious questions that I had seen over time and again either on the net or the workshops I had attended in preparation for the job market. But one question though caught my attention, he challenged why I had not taken up self employment. That was tricky; he was in self employment though. My answer came from my heart but all in all I think I did a good job. 

He however told me that getting a place before graduation was problematic but said he would try his best to hook me up with something soon. The exact date was not known. I knew it. Ideally, I thought the man was coerced by my acquaintance to interview me so as to nail a deal they were working on. I usually like reading some one’s mien when talking one on one. His attitude was drab, his body posture kind of flat and his eyes never bespoke of ‘I want to help you like serious’.

I realized I am not alone. There are scores like me whom I don’t want to compare myself with. That is the two sides of a coin. The only encouraging aspect is that it’s never a big deal being aggravated by the haves; it builds the character to withstand even the harshest of life’s circumstances.

PS: I regret paying my bill. It left a huge dent on my broke wallet. The guy had told me he would pay. But the person in me told me to pay my bill. It would depict a person devoid of the culture of being helped but again someone independent. But all in all, that experience was an eye opener.

SITUONANE.

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The illusions of Campus relationships

Woe unto you if you are in a relationship in campus. Worse is if the relationship is between you and a classmate. Few campus relationships see the light of day. This is especially when the couple exit from the miasma of the deception that is campus. I am sure less than 5% of those who finish campus as couples ever make it to the altar. Those who ever do realized something that their fellow mates never. It has to do with maturity and sense of responsibility.

There was a chic in our class, let’s call her Shirley. Shirley was that chic who was super hot. As a freshman, she did excite the love and lust tendons among mates. Many even did fear her. The ravenous ones just wanted a piece of her to brag to the rest of their conquered acquisition. Yet behind that beauty of yore did lie some gullibility in her. 

Inquisitive, I did ask those who were interested as she was like a hot trending topic. Many stories emerged. I never verified whether they were true or not. In fact I would rather say they were full of malice and conjecture. You know, when men become jealous and they find it hard to win the heart of that one person many are eying, they resort to slander.

There was one anecdote that went like this. Shirley, aware of her charm decided to entertain all the potential suitors. A close pal intimated to me that one of his friends tried to test his luck. He took her to the best club Helb could afford. He was feeling dope and thought he had the looks. But Shirley never thought of him as well oiled. He never nested the bird.

Another lucky bugger from one of the best national schools then tried his hand and again he failed the test. His financial muscles where not juggernaut enough. He also suffered the fate of the former. Lady luck smiled on him though, he left campus and joined a flying school and currently he makes real big bucks.

Then a lucky chap won her heart. It is said he had the necessary billing to ensure that the new found relationship did last. Money it is said won the heart of Shirley. Being taken for pizza, food in the students centre and a whole lot of other goodies she consented or in street parlance ‘aliingia box’. Indeed money can buy love. For those who are not deep pocketed, sorry, try to sharpen your vibing skills or try deception. 

After the union, people waited for a break up. Theirs was a confining relationship. The lady was tucked by her man each and everywhere they went. Grapevine had it that she did fear competition from other equally pretty girls who would snatch her, the one and only. The lad also in fear of team ‘mafisi’ that his lady would walk away never let her go. 

Its years now and they are tighter than ever. They saw the light and henceforth became servile to Christ and that is a plus. A conniving friend was once invited by the lady to her Bible study and my oh my, the lad could not resist. He never went to hear the word. His main motive was to win the lady and probably eat what was served. He was the type of eat and run. They became friends. He occasionally went for the study but with a hidden agenda. I am not sure he succeeded in his quest.

What I am sure of is that sometimes some campus relationships do see the altar. One of my friends who was a senior and had a girlfriend in the same class ringed her girl at a white wedding. I bet Shirley and her beau will one time tie the knot and seal what was nurtured in campus. Still time will tell. It’s never that serious.

But that is one case where the barb never saw the light of day. I know of girls who out of innocence found boyfriends in their senior years. Unlucky them; some seniors used them and would kick them out in the dead of the night when they had finished their business. Still blinded by love, they stuck on thinking things would change. Am sorry to say some still stick to even worse abusive unions thinking things will change for the better.

A fellow mate was also in a relationship in campus. It is said his girlfriend was a virgin and a strict Christian. He was never allowed to taste the lady’s beefy curtains. But they slept on the same bed. When the chic was away visiting her peeps, the dude would call his ‘mpango wa kando’ and taste the forbidden fruit he had been denied. And mark you; he did exchange the lasses like a model does clothes. But still no one told his exquisitely beautiful gal. She stayed on. What I don’t really know is whether they will ever tie the knot.

Generally, campus relationships are generally about matters of the flesh. There are so many heart breaks just like there are very few happy endings. What I am sure of is that it is tricky sticking to one woman in campus. This especially applies to those fun loving and randy dudes who have to shake them legs and eye the next possible capture in a skirt. 

But I have to give it to the ladies. They are indeed foxier than some of the witty boys. The heavy machines, sleek contraptions and top of the range vehicles that are usually parked outside their halls of residence will cower even the bravest of a campus lad. Trust you me, many campus chics want something they never had in their formative years. With the new found freedom, it makes it easy to explore.

I remember one time coming from a lady friend’s room at night. Talk of the ten to ten rules. I was astounded to see a man in his early thirties. He was frightened beyond consideration. I guess he had also been given some serious lashing.  Some rogue campus goons even had the audacity to snatch his car keys and were driving his car at break neck speed skidding to portray their formula one skills. The chic was safely watching from a distance as the dude talked incoherently to the watchman. I later heard he was given back his car and he sped off. Ideally the goons were of the opinion that the dude had trespassed to snatch them a girl. 

That reminds me of a friend. He confessed that his days in a serious relationship may not be soon. His first year love went to the extent of inviting another dude in her room while he was in. Apparently, the lady thought nothing existed between the two. My friend was left hanging as the lady engaged in hearty conversation with the dude she had invited. He later told me that he is not yet through with the break ups. Before the end of campus, he had broken the heart of many an innocent freshman.

Another friend nicknamed ‘Akuku Danger’ never kept a girl for more than a semester. He had a penchant for light skinned ladies with a curvaceous derriere. Each time he came with a new one, I became accustomed to his ways. At one time in the library, he saw one such chic and he did not waste time. I never asked further but I guess he saw to it that he got the French fry dip. 

Then there is this lecherous dude who was christened the darling of all the ladies. I bet he had suffered heartbreak before, being an Arts student and having plenty of time, he invested in changing classmates like a motor enthusiast. He would sleep with more than three ladies on any given day callously. Never mind that he exposed himself to many risks. Nevertheless none of the ladies ever noticed and when they became aware they still shrugged it off. I am told they still went back even when they knew that the dude was a quintessential player. 

I am sure there are lots of other stories that are never exposed or will later be exposed. Campus is sometimes an illusion. If your girlfriend gets a job before you, she may accommodate you. But chances are she may not want a bug and may drop you like a person who accidentally catches a hot object. When it is a man, Mtu wa dunia, trust you me the dude will use the money to entertain many girls before thinking of ever settling down. He will still maintain the lady but at a distance then when the time is ripe and he decides to settle down, the lady if a keeper, will walk down the aisle.

SITUONANE.

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The art of Patience

A good story comes from the heart. It is something relatable and inspires the writer to put the thought in black and white. Once in a while you get let down by those whom you had faith and expected would elate your spirits. This occurs when you tell a friend or someone close to critique what you have written, composed or intend to do. However, be on the go and never lose hope, in every endeavor there are two options; the first is failure and the other is success.

It took me a lot of soul searching before I ventured in this unrewarding and exciting pastime that is writing (you can even be a pilot or a rocket scientist). What I am sure of is that I have the drive that can never been watered down. It is something I like and as such, I have the obligation to continue pursuing it till that point in time where I will feel that I am no longer passionate enough to continue with it.

I stumbled upon writing in Primary school. Ever since, I have never looked back. I can authoritatively brag that I used to write some of the best compositions while in primary school. My mates would be appalled by my write-ups and they would try to copy my ideas much to the chagrin of tutors who found the essays a fake copy of what I had written but grossly unreadable. I am not bragging, if I was a pathetic writer it have obviously been manifested in these pieces. 

In high school, writing became my second love. I ended up adopting a culture of writing. But after high school I lost the drive to get a pen and paper and put my thoughts into black and white. This I can attribute to the fact that I thoroughly felt exhausted to the point where I did nothing constructive other than reading newspapers and occasional novels. 

My craving for reading however never died. At one point in time I read the bible from Genesis to Revelation. It was a project I did to kill idleness and since the hanker in me never wanted to be idle I decided to read the bible. I cannot precisely recall how long it took me, but I guess it was about two weeks of continuous reading. Currently I can’t reminisce what I read. Through reading I was able to rejuvenate my writing skills. But again nothing is as aggravating as having no avenue of relaying your artistic pieces. I became frustrated and dropped the dream.

I revived my flair for writing when I watched an epic inspiration on spoken word one Friday morning. In it they featured a Kenyatta University student who was so good that I wanted to venture in spoken word. The student was none other than Number 8. He is currently a business anchor plying his trade with one of the local television channels. I must confess that though there were other spoken word artists, his mastery of the skill did excite the nerves in me to write my own poems. And with that I decided to venture into the art of writing poems.

My first poem was a very simple poem. My First Odyssey. Though I had tried poetry in high school, I lost hope when prose writing became more appealing than writing a poem. I wrote the poem to commemorate the journey that I had started long ago having killed the dream. I did memorize the poem but never had an audience to perform to. I am not afraid of an audience since I have ever participated in drama as a leading actor in a play while in high school. 

Since then I have written hundreds of poems. At one time I read about a poet and an artist who talked about dedicating 10000 hours in a skill before you become proficient. I don’t know the amount of time I have dedicated in writing but I am sure in a few years time I will have accrued the time. What I have never done is however dedicating time to cram my pieces to be able to recite them in public. Through writing I discovered that writing poems is even more challenging than prose writing. Poetry is more about diction and brevity. Achieving that is usually not easy as it requires patience. I bet my poems are longer. But the kind of poetry I write does not follow the laid down rules of poetry. 

I once read from a well respected journo that writing is a thankless job. You never get recognized for the hours you put in thinking, writing and re-writing and editing your text. Fortunately enough, it’s a calling being a writer and not an obligation. Anyone who has been to primary school can write. The difference is, writing is usually demanding and one can take even a week in order to come up with a good and captivating write-up. 

I usually try to simplify what I write about as much as possible. It also encourages me to re-read my texts. But on most occasions I usually digress and end up writing on a totally different thing all together. But writing is different, you may decide to write about Kenya and end up composing something totally different. This piece is an example of the ramble I was talking about. I initially wanted to write about my time in nursery but look, I wrote about something I never expected I would. In the near future I hope to write a book about something incredible.

SITUONANE.

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Spoilt child dem days

Spare the rod, spoil the child. True to the saying it also alluded to in the Bible. Childhood memories cannot be reminisced without factoring in the cane. I am sure I was a victim on many occasions and sincerely it had to do with my mischief. As a toddler, I was excited in doing that which I was told not to do. I don’t know whether it was due to mental amnesia or just the fact that the forbidden fruit usually tastes sweeter.

My mother, a strict disciplinarian never entertained any jokes. Till now, residing upcountry, very few can cross her line. Not even my militaristic grandfather could calm her nerves down when her tempers did flare up. She is the kind of lady who did not entertain nonsense. I bet that character has stuck to date. Her love for hygiene and smartness is also what many admire her. A woman of dignity, one may think that she did not step in the doors of any school. If she decided to go ballistic and choleric, not even we her children could stand her, all and sundry went helter skelter.

That brief description cannot sum up her character. There is something about people with such rabid traits. The first thing is to ensure you don’t cross her line. Pleasing her is also easy. Never exchange words. Let her do that with someone of equal words. Know what she likes and keep her busy by telling her stories or engaging her. One thing is that people of this kind are easy to please and they never get piqued when things are right.

As a tot, I was not the best of friends with my mom. I remember one time she was teaching me how to read before I went to class one. It was a terrible day. I was eager to go and play but she had different plans. She wanted me to read the ‘Hallo Children book’ whereas I never knew how to read a sentence. That day I was given a dog beating for not knowing how to read after her. After some few weeks in class one I was able to read and went back to her with the book to read. I guess the reason why I was more psyched to read was only to prove to my mum that I was not that daft.   

As much as my mother was also very meticulous, she was also lenient and loving. That is expected of a majority of nees. At one time while doing my thing on the stairway sliding up and down, I fell down. The next time I woke up I was in bed. At my side was my mum seated there having prayed that her son recuperates early enough. I did recovered quickly and being that gentle mum, she asked me what I wanted. I said I wanted some soda and it was immediately bought from the shop.

My mother had the requisite experience. She knew most things for someone my age. There was a time when multiplication was a hard nut to crack and I was almost in tears. When she enquired and realized that what was disturbing my non hypothetical brain was simple multiplication, she showed me an easy way. At the back of the book was simple multiplication for children my age. With that she cracked the jinx. Later on I crammed the set could even easily divide using the procedure taught.  Maths become so easy. Guess that’s why I never failed till I finished school.

Trips were some of those occasions where the eve was a time when insomnia did set in. My mother knew this and she usually did her best to ensure I was well prepared. A trip to a place like Nakuru would excite the nerves in me to a point where I became impatient. That was also true of the other students who could not wait for the driver to leave the school. Boarders were the worst lot as they screamed of the prison they were leaving to gain some freedom from the walls that denied them association with the outside world and movement.

As rascal, I was also a dare devil. At one point we walked from my place to town to watch a football match with some older friends. That meant we had to use the short route. I tried jumping over a fence and my calf bore the brunt as it was slit by the barbed wire I wanted to jump over. My mum never came to know about it sooner but after a while she did. There was nothing she could do. Damage had been done and the marks are still evident. They do remind me of my well explored childhood.

I still remember playing marbles and chobo ua. One time I was given a severe beating to a point where my head became so hot that I felt I was carrying a ton of a trailer on my head. On another occasion I was playing marbles with my friends. I had five marbles. The game was such that if you hit an opponent’s marble thrice the marble became yours. I was a victim. I lost four marbles. I must admit that was so devastating. I pretended to go to the loo to wipe away my bulging tears as they were too much for me to hold. Realizing this, friends gave me back two marbles. At least they were humane as some would have mocked me even farther for being a cry baby.

My best moments as a tot were watching Chinese and action movies. They made love fighting. At one point in lower primary, I was the most feared figure as none would have attempted to challenge me in a fight. This was compounded by the fact that physically, I was bigger than most of my mates. 

Childhood is a passing fade, as I look back, I realize that the lies we told the fun we had and the games we played in a way did shape the character that is ingrained in us. However much we may deny our current status, the truth is that what one wanted to become in life is usually achieved.

SITUONANE.

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Angel of Death

Caricature of Angel of Death

If I knew the day I die I would ask God to add me a few more years just like he did to Ezekiel. Since I ain't that holy, that means I can’t know the day of my demise. If I knew I would prepare in advance to scuttle the chances of ever going six feet under if I don’t make it to the age of majority otherwise the rest is bonus.

The youth never think that death is beckoning. To them, life is full of pleasure and the thought of death is never in their diction. The only point they encounter death is when their close friends or peeps or a relative dies. When other people kick the bucket, in their opine this is normal as long as it does not affect them.

Every minute someone dies. Someone else somewhere is on the brink of death and fighting for dear life. Does death have to be this painful? It really makes us remember that our stay on this earth is only a season. No one knows his time. To some it comes abrupt and accidentally. Others get sick and succumb while a few die at old age.

Sometimes I usually wish I would live to the age of the likes of Adam and Methuselah. I would be 500 years and thinking like a 30 year old. At thirty, I would have thought of either being a million dollar business man of repute owning or running a blue chip fortune 500 company. I would probably have made a good fortune then and need not to think about making money. In fact I would have been struggling for self actualization.

But since people can’t live to reach 900, it means one has to make hay while the sun shines before grim reaper descends and takes your life. When you are no longer in the world, you will always be remembered. The kind of people who remember you do matter a lot. Remember you don’t want just to be remembered for nothing. 

Some people are usually remembered for being the most outstanding sots, others having made a mark in either the academia, medicine, sports or any profession that there is. Others still become the most violent thugs who have gangs that even the average cop can’t think of tackling head on.

Gangs remind me that the youth are more susceptible to join them. Recent and past statistics shows that people of youthful age are the ones who break into houses, kidnap, and engage in acts of terror that are surely very risky. They are also the culprits who mug and snatch petty items from those walking on the streets.

Does God send his angel of death to us when our time comes to come and take us to our resting place? Jesus, the son of man did die in his youth. But he had to die to save man. If Jesus did fear death and He was part of the Holy Trinity, who am I not to.

Every time frustrations and depression set in when I am not making ends meet in whichever venture I engage in, suicidal feelings do apprehend. I usually imagine the way the world would react especially when I close my eyes. Then I remember that I have a lot that I need to achieve and the pleasures of the world that I am yet to enjoy. These pursuits make me change my mind knowing that the world is not static and there is usually a way out of any quagmire.

So do the Angels of Death exist? That question has been mind boggling and has worried me long enough. I know none wants to make an early exit from this world. In fact, if there was a way a person could buy more time to live, then many would have done so especially the rich.

But the rich in a way can buy more time on earth as opposed to the poor. They are insured in the best hospitals, they don’t have to worry much about material needs and they are privy to some of most classified information that makes them want to continue living.

The destitute on the other hand sometimes have nothing to keep them going. They lack material possessions and live under the mercy of the government. As if that is not enough, if mild ailments attack, some having a weak immune system quickly succumb.

SITUONANE. 

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Design it, Chinese will construct it

“The Chinese use two brush strokes to write the word 'crisis.' One brush stroke stands for danger; the other for opportunity. In a crisis, be aware of the danger--but recognize the opportunity.”

― John F. Kennedy

The Chinese may not be the world superpower but they have made themselves a global brand that one can’t dispute. The biggest factory in the world is currently found in china. They supply the world with virtually everything. Made in China is now synonymous phrase. We have sanctioned Chinese products and they are now part of our lifestyle.

A certain American woman once decided to carry out an experiment. She was the specimen. The conditions she subjected herself stipulated that she was not to use any Chinese products. The control experiment was to use the Chinese products. She had been fed up with the fact that in her daily itinerary, Chinese products had to be part of that lifestyle. 

She never lasted long enough in the experiment. She resorted back to the Chinese products. This attests to the fact that not even the Super-power nation can do without China.

Actually, the Chinese can be said to run the material world. America still leads when it comes to matters warfare, entertainment, fashion and other spheres due to the financial muscles they have.  But at some point they were bailed out by the Chinese. 

While it may look like China is in the front wing in terms of having products that are used by everyone. America has Facebook, Twitter, Microsoft, Apple and a host of other brands like Coca Cola, Pepsi that we use in our day today lives. Moreover, they have Google, a tech-savvy company that came up with Android, Google search engine, Blogger, YouTube and a host of other products that shape the way we live. These are just to mention but a few of what we use produced by America.

If someone knows how to exploit your weakness to aid him in doing what he wants, then that person has won you over. Americans know how to exploit ignorance and their narky flair leads the world to a desired conclusion in their favour. Mastery of Aristotle’s three methods of appeal: pathos, logos, and ethos has greatly helped the superpower. Through social media, the people the world over expose their ignorance and weakness much to the delight of the Super power.

China on the other hand supplies us with products we use daily. They are the legendary potters or hardware designers who supply the world with all sorts of products. After construction and sale, their influence comes to an end. While many may be of the opinion that China has spread its tentacles widely, America has more clout. The Chinese are like the spanner boys, they implement the designs and ideas of other people.

That the Chinese are clever is not in doubt. The only drawback is they are devoid of ideas that have changed the realm of technology, medicine or fields that have had influence in the world in the recent past. The Chinese are innovators. They are extremely good to the point where they have come up with some high end products that fascinate the world. They are however conservative and dictatorial when it comes to matters of governance and running of the state.

Our country Kenya is currently over fascinated by the Chinese. They have made us think East. They deliver. They are currently all over. Some are even roasting maize by the road side while others have been peddling third-rate items to gullible buyers. The Kenyan skyline is facing China. Architects and Engineers design and come up with ideas; they construct and implement the ideas. They bid on everything that is worth billions and millions. They supply us with products that fit our prescription and billing.

Chinese are witty people; they know where the world is headed. In this regard, they transform with the changes rapidly like a tardigrade does to a new environment. They want to shift from a third world country to a developed nation. But in their quest, they have forgotten the politics of going green. Theirs is a pursuit that can’t be reigned upon. If you cough a bit, they have the financial muscles and that they supply the world with cheap products acts in their favour.

There financial muscles have seen many of their companies join the list of Fortune 500 most profitable companies. The Chinese are not only engaging in making cheap stuff for the world anymore. They are restructuring to and have delved in oil, technology- HTC, Lenovo, Huawei-, partially in entertainment due to their karate movies and a host of other manufacturing industries that have global hegemony.

China has also been criticized for unfair trade practices, including artificial currency devaluation, intellectual property theft, protectionism, and local favoritism. These shortfalls notwithstanding, the Chinese have had average growth rates of 10% for the past 30 years. This means China is the only nation that has had a positive growth rate in the recent period more than any other country in the world.

I love the Chinese for one thing. They have products for all and sundry. If you want a tablet and can’t procure the expensive ones, there are affordable tablets the Chinese make for those who desire to own one. 

But kudos to the Chinese, Apple tabs and computers are cheap (they provide cheap labor) otherwise the products would have had unprecedented prices. Every other company is facing China. They are efficient and effective in terms of delivery plus they have the requisite skills for their population is a fifth that of the world. Thanks to their policies, they have been cohesive and industrious and have propelled their economy from the annals of having a frail and malfunctioning economy and currently they are a juggernaut and an economic giant the world has to reckon with.

Amid the glory, China still ranks low in facets to do with human development. Poverty is still rife and inequalities are evident plus they have a government that muzzles the media and curtails global giants like Google from operating in the county. Sad but we have to condone.

SITUONANE.

[Photo Source: Google Images]

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