Y.C.F Creative Hub

Y.C.F Creative Hub A home for all cre-ARTives

14/08/2021

There's ART in EVERYTHING!

A night view of LoCA. Serah Chule, Austin t Sambo and Benny Bwanga Ghosting out in photos 😂
29/04/2021

A night view of LoCA.
Serah Chule, Austin t Sambo and Benny Bwanga Ghosting out in photos 😂



The Livingstone OfïŹce for Contemporary Art (LoCA) is pleased to welcome you to another exhibition by the second group of...
05/04/2021

The Livingstone OfïŹce for Contemporary Art (LoCA) is pleased to welcome you to another exhibition by the second group of the Tuning In Other Ways of Seeing Minilab 2020. StĂ©phane Kabila Kyowa, Mwape J. Mumbi, Megan McNamara, Lucas Ngoma and Bittersweet were part of a group of 9 participants who have worked together to develop their concepts and artworks since March 2020 under the guidance of the LoCA team and experienced practitioners. The first group presented their exhibition in December 2020. This exhibition titled The Sun Will Always Shine showcases new contemporary artworks by Megan McNamara, Lucas Ngoma and Bittersweet, curated by StĂ©phane Kabila Kyowa and Mwape J. Mumbi, assisted by Sana Ginwalla and Jonathan Dingani Sakala. Due to the COVID 19, we proclaim April as the opening month. We will open the doors to National Arts Gallery, Livingstone on Saturday 3rd April from 4 pm to 7 pm to preview the exhibition. The exhibition we remain open for three months. Gabi Ngcobo, Isyak Nyambhingi Kalambata,Dominic Nshimba

Today on "SPEAKING MY TRUTH THROUGH AN IMAGE" We have Onechi LwenjeOnechi is an African media personality based in Zambi...
09/02/2021

Today on "SPEAKING MY TRUTH THROUGH AN IMAGE" We have Onechi Lwenje

Onechi is an African media personality based in Zambia. Over the last 20 years, he has broken barriers in a march to expand his media endevaors from the fledgling Zambian film industry into a prolific literary career, culminating in the publishing of his first poetry anthology, “Love (The Death Of) Me” in 2020.To Hell and Back

My Journey Surviving Covid-19
By Onechi Lwenje

If someone had told me at the beginning of December that I would spend New Year’s Eve on oxygen at the UTH Covid-19 ICU Isolation ward, I would not have believed them.

Like a lot of Zambians at the beginning of December, I was
 complacent. We had survived a previous wave of Covid in the first half of 2020. Though devastating, we met it at high alert. Learning to wear a mask and sanitize vigorously was the norm. But time passed. By the end of the year, I was attending to my regular calendar of social events that come up at this time.

What started as a simple cough was ignored as I went about my business. But as the days progressed, the cough persisted. One evening my colleagues and I went for a night cap after a successful function to a popular night club. I remember looking out at the hundreds upon hundreds of people present after we entered and thinking to myself “Not one single person here is wearing a mask,” and we carried on enjoying the festive season.

Concern began to take hold when the cough was not going away. Instead, there was now a dreadful fever, aches and pain in the body, a strange feeling like a coat on my tongue which interfered with enjoying food. A lack of appetite gripped my body and without being able to eat I began to wither. It was at this point that I decided to test to rule out. Breathing was beginning to be a challenge as well but I kept it to myself not to alarm anyone.

A day after the test, I received the life-shaking call that I was positive. By this point my difficulty breathing was so apparent that the doctor recommended that I come to the UTH immediately. Gripped in fear and panic, my family shed tears as we packed my bag to the hospital. I looked at the people God had instructed me to look after and felt defeat as I was going to be hospitalized. Who was going to look after them? Would I return?

By the time I arrived at the hospital, my difficulty breathing had reached its peak. I could barely stand. I was screened, x-rayed and admitted to the ICU Isolation ward with severe pneumonia. Had I not been admitted that night, I would not be here to tell this story I am certain. As the new year rang outside with fireworks and fanfare, my deteriorating condition made the future uncertain.

My 7 nights in the ward was one of the scariest times. The accommodations however were decent. The team of doctors were very hardworking though quite stressed and overworked. Our rooms were designed for single occupancy but they had to double up to meet the demand.

There comes a point where you are in so much discomfort and pain that the thought of death begins to flirt with you. Before long, it consumes you. I had to face the reality that I may never see those I care about the most ever again. Nights faded into days. Jab after jab, doctors and nurses coming and going at all hours of the day and night. My thoughts drifted to my mother, my son and the love of my life. I needed hope.

Being in isolation means no one can visit you. The only company you have is the person you share your room with and the doctors and nurses, who are covered head to toe in white overalls. You learn to identify them only from their eyes. Sometimes you don’t know who is talking to you. It’s then that you crave being in contact with those you care about.

I befriended some people inside. When we mustered strength to speak to one another, it temporarily concealed the pain and trauma of isolation. But even those moments were interrupted regularly by a call or a message that another friend, acquaintance or loved one has died from Covid. That’s when I understood that it is by God’s grace alone that I am still walking this Earth. This pain of daily loss continues up to now.

In those dark moments of being in the ward (with a 20% survival rate), prayers from loved ones around the world brought comfort. I began to respond favorably to the treatment received. Before long I was taken off the oxygen and began to breathe on my own before I was discharged.

I am very appreciative of the doctors and nurses at UTH that treated me. Their expert care is the reason I am still here and honestly your best chance at survival of this disease. Ultimate gratitude goes to God. I have to believe that God gave me a second chance at life for a reason. Which brings me to society at large.

You miss the strangest things when you are in isolation. For me it was sunlight touching my skin. In the car ride back home, I dropped the window and put me arm out to feel the golden rays of the sun on my flesh. But as I adjusted my sight, I noticed that the majority of people were not masking up. Not distancing. Having gone through what I had just did, I was horrified.

My message is simple. We can only fight COVID-19 together. Which is why we must unquestionably adhere to the Five Golden Rules to end covid-19 infection:

1. Mask up
2. 2. Social distance
3. 3. Frequent hand wash or sanitize
4. 4. Stay home and avoid crowds
5. 5. Seek medical attention early
To those that still think Covid is not real or another internet hoax, I say this; I was lucky to survive, will you?

'anisingini

YCF CreArtive hub is a home for the artist's 😍
08/02/2021

YCF CreArtive hub is a home for the artist's 😍

29/01/2021

Today on "SPEAKING MY TRUTH THROUGH AN IMAGE" we would like to do a survey on how many people understand the difference between "looking and seeing", "listening and hearing".

Here is a short video of the garden at the YCF Creative Hub in Lilayi that was filmed by Austin T Sambo (Hub Manager and tech artist).

I believe that in as much as it is a simple video, it will only take people who really appreciate nature to speak a few words about what they can make of it. In this very moment, what is mother nature saying in this "simple" video? Are you listening? Are you seeing? What can you say?





Today on "SPEAKING MY TRUTH THROUGH AN IMAGE" we reflect upon this powerful poem by Amanda Gorman.Amanda S. C. Gorman (b...
27/01/2021

Today on "SPEAKING MY TRUTH THROUGH AN IMAGE" we reflect upon this powerful poem by Amanda Gorman.

Amanda S. C. Gorman (born 1998) is an American poet and activist. Her work focuses on issues of oppression, feminism, race, and marginalization, as well as the African diaspora. Gorman was the first person to be named National Youth Poet Laureate. She published the poetry book The One for Whom Food Is Not Enough in 2015. In 2021, she delivered her poem "The Hill We Climb" at the inauguration of U.S. President Joe Biden.

When day comes we ask ourselves,
where can we find light in this never-ending shade?
The loss we carry,
a sea we must wade
We've braved the belly of the beast
We've learned that quiet isn't always peace
And the norms and notions
of what just is
Isn’t always just-ice
And yet the dawn is ours
before we knew it
Somehow we do it
Somehow we've weathered and witnessed
a nation that isn’t broken
but simply unfinished
We the successors of a country and a time
Where a skinny Black girl
descended from slaves and raised by a single mother
can dream of becoming president
only to find herself reciting for one
And yes we are far from polished
far from pristine
but that doesn’t mean we are
striving to form a union that is perfect
We are striving to forge a union with purpose
To compose a country committed to all cultures, colors, characters and
conditions of man
And so we lift our gazes not to what stands between us
but what stands before us
We close the divide because we know, to put our future first,
we must first put our differences aside
We lay down our arms
so we can reach out our arms
to one another
We seek harm to none and harmony for all
Let the globe, if nothing else, say this is true:
That even as we grieved, we grew
That even as we hurt, we hoped
That even as we tired, we tried
That we’ll forever be tied together, victorious
Not because we will never again know defeat
but because we will never again sow division
Scripture tells us to envision
that everyone shall sit under their own vine and fig tree
And no one shall make them afraid
If we’re to live up to our own time
Then victory won’t lie in the blade
But in all the bridges we’ve made
That is the promise to glade
The hill we climb
If only we dare
It's because being American is more than a pride we inherit,
it’s the past we step into
and how we repair it
We’ve seen a force that would shatter our nation
rather than share it
Would destroy our country if it meant delaying democracy
And this effort very nearly succeeded
But while democracy can be periodically delayed
it can never be permanently defeated
In this truth
in this faith we trust
For while we have our eyes on the future
history has its eyes on us
This is the era of just redemption
We feared at its inception
We did not feel prepared to be the heirs
of such a terrifying hour
but within it we found the power
to author a new chapter
To offer hope and laughter to ourselves
So while once we asked,
how could we possibly prevail over catastrophe?
Now we assert
How could catastrophe possibly prevail over us?
We will not march back to what was
but move to what shall be
A country that is bruised but whole,
benevolent but bold,
fierce and free
We will not be turned around
or interrupted by intimidation
because we know our inaction and inertia
will be the inheritance of the next generation
Our blunders become their burdens
But one thing is certain:
If we merge mercy with might,
and might with right,
then love becomes our legacy
and change our children’s birthright
So let us leave behind a country
better than the one we were left with
Every breath from my bronze-pounded chest,
we will raise this wounded world into a wondrous one
We will rise from the gold-limbed hills of the west,
we will rise from the windswept northeast
where our forefathers first realized revolution
We will rise from the lake-rimmed cities of the midwestern states,
we will rise from the sunbaked south
We will rebuild, reconcile and recover
and every known nook of our nation and
every corner called our country,
our people diverse and beautiful will emerge,
battered and beautiful
When day comes we step out of the shade,
aflame and unafraid
The new dawn blooms as we free it
For there is always light,
if only we’re brave enough to see it
If only we’re brave enough to be it

Transcript of Amanda Gorman's inaugural poem
BY THE HILL STAFF - 01/20/21 01:32 PM EST

Today on "SPEAKING MY TRUTH THROUGH AN IMAGE" We hear from Luis Roy Zulu who is a software engineer, philanthropist and ...
25/01/2021

Today on "SPEAKING MY TRUTH THROUGH AN IMAGE" We hear from Luis Roy Zulu who is a software engineer, philanthropist and entrepreneur.



When all is well, all good looking and healthy, death is far from our minds as it is something that is still a taboo to even abruptly think of in some cultures.

Despite all this, death is the most terrifying and inevitable enemy of all mankind. Death does not prejudice, stigmatize, or is partial. Death does not care what race, tribe, s*x you are or what position or power you have, death will look for you, it will locate you, and it will quench the last breath out of you.

Yes death is coming, if death is inevitable, what then is the purpose of life? Why are you living?
People usually say, you only live once, so enjoy yourself while you can, which in most cases advocates for illicit acts, why then, don’t we say you only live once, so better prepare for the after life? Could it be that they don’t believe, that we could live after death through the resurrection in paradise?

I don’t intend to answer these questions as most are opinionated.
When we die, those whom we thought were worthless while our physical body was in good health, are the ones that will mourn us. When we die, one ultimate thing stands out, weather buried in a first class cemetery to the human eye or the nth class, we all turn into dirt (dust), which clearly shows how equal we all are.
How then do you want to be remembered after you die?
What legacy will you leave behind?
What lessons will people learn from you?
What name will your offsprings inherit?

Remember, when one life ends another begins... this is true with the illustration of the pictures attached, once a mango falls off a tree due to decay, wherever it goes it gives chance to new life.

What kind of name does the new life inherit? What legacy do they live by? Was it a sweet mango? Bitter? Or tasteless?

Remember every man's life ends the same way. It is only the details of how he lived and how he died that distinguish one man from another.

If you’re reading this, it means you’re alive, you still have life, so thank God, as you pass your thank you’s reflect on this:

How can I treasure the people in my life more knowing that they will someday die?

Would I rather have more people at my wedding or at my funeral? Why?

What would others say about me, and what do I hope they would say?

What can I learn from the death of a loved one?

All in all remember, Death is not the greatest loss in life. The greatest loss is what dies inside us while we live.

Today on "SPEAKING MY TRUTH THROUGH AN IMAGE" we share a poem by Marita Banda.Marita Banda is a published writer and poe...
22/01/2021

Today on "SPEAKING MY TRUTH THROUGH AN IMAGE" we share a poem by Marita Banda.

Marita Banda is a published writer and poet. She is passionate about care for the environment and nature. When she is not writing, she teaches English language and Creative Writing. She also works as a freelance editor. She relaxes by gardening and cooking.

*Cycles*

In the perfection of Life,
Varied and ephemeral as breath
You are I, reflecting
Majesty and splendour
In fish,
As bird
As star dust
In frog and leaf
As pebble
I am you, reflecting
Her as them
Teeming with breath
Only alive and alive
Him as us
Birth and death as revolving doors
Ash to dust,
In the peace of storms
Unwavering
Blinking yet
The secrets of consciousness
Whispered in the ears of the deaf
Spoken by dumb tongues
Seen only through blind eyes
Laid plain unseen
In the still of silence
The heart knows
Revealing only Truth
Ever into eternity
The cycles spinning Life to Life

©Marita Banda, 2021

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