During the month of April in Rwanda it is common to see a purple cloth wrapped on people's left arms, in their necks, and pockets. purple is the colour of death in Rwanda, IN some cases as is often during the month of April, a white cloth cris crossed by purple on many caskets containing the remains of the 1994 genocide against the Tutsi.
But it is not just colours, I once stayed with a people who took the howling of dogs/wolves meant some disaster, in most cases death. "Emisege," they were called, although as we were later to learn the term also meant another term. I was left thinking about disaster recently.
The other day I wore a pair of black jeans and a black shirt. When I was masquerading around the is just walking about in the corridors aimlessly,
Then in my housemate opened the door to her room and saw me passingby. She was surprised and utterly shocked. "Oh my God," she reacted in horror. I was confused in the moment as to what had shocked her and quickly realized it was my attire and the prominence of black.
I was thinking today as I listened to Prof J's song "Nazeeka" where he says "if you want to know the importance of the bum try sitting on your head."
"Ukitaki ku'juwa muhima wa matako jaribu kukaa'ria kichwa."
I don't know why this song, a Tanzanian urban hip hop thing that is completely unrelated reminds that while people are still struggling to find the colour of love, we were quick to know the colour of death.
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