Story Wa Quotes

Stories, like food, lose their flavor if cooked in a hurry.

This isn't my story, but hers. In a world full of actors trying to cunningly maneuver themselves into the lead role, she was the star of that night without even trying. She didn't realize it then, and she probably still hasn't. This is a chronicle of her majestic journey through an alcohol-steeped night and my distress at failing to secure the lead role and making do with my existence as a pebble by the wayside. Wise readers, relish both her cuteness and my stupidity; savor the exquisite and subtle flavor of life, not unlike that of almond tofu. I hope you will cheer her on.

The story hangs in the night air between them. It is very latem, and if father or daugther stepped to the window, tehyw ould see the Suktara, star of the impending dawn, hanging low in the sky. But they keep sitting at the table, each thinking of the story differently, as teller and listener always must. In the mind of each, different images swirl up and fall away, and each holds on to a different part of the story, thinking it the most important. And if each were to speak what it meant, they would say things so different you would not know it wa sthe same story they were speaking of.

Kanuni za fasihi ndiyo msingi wa maandiko yote ya kitaalamu hapa ulimwenguni. Watu hawana budi kuzifuata kanuni hizo kama wanataka kutumia vipaji vyao katika ngazi ya kimataifa.

because she couldn’t write the name of what she was: a wa wam owm owamn womn

Adam Kuambiana umerudi nyumbani ulikotoka, ukiongozwa na imani na mwanga wa wale uliowapenda na kuwapoteza. Hatuwezi kukumbuka kwamba umetutoka bila kukumbuka kwamba uliishi, na kwamba maisha yako yalitupa kumbukumbu nzuri tusizoweza kuzisahau haraka. Jumanne, siku ya kuuaga mwili uliokuwa ukitumiwa na wewe, wengine watasema Kwa heri lakini mimi nitasema Asante! Asante kwa sababu ya kipaji chako. Asante kwa sababu ya kujitahidi kwa kadiri ya uwezo wako wote, kutoa sauti kwa wale wote waliokuwa hawawezi kusikika. Asante kwa sababu ya kuacha dunia katika hali nzuri kuliko ulivyoikuta wakati ukiingia, na Asante kwa sababu ya maisha yako. Tukiendelea kuomboleza kifo cha Adam Kuambiana hapa duniani, wengine wanasherehekea kukutana naye huko mbinguni. Mchungaji wa uhai wa wote Mungu wa mbinguni ailaze roho yake mahali pema peponi: Yeye ni mwandishi wa hadithi ya maisha yetu na ndiye aliyeandika ukurasa wa mwisho wa hadithi ya Adam.

This country, our country, is pregnant. What it will give birth to, only God knows... Imagine! the children of us workers are fated to stay out in the sun, thirsty, hungry, naked, gazing at fruit ripening on trees which they can' t pick even to quieten a demanding belly! Fated to see food steaming in the pantry, but unable to dip a calabash into the pot to scoop out even a tiny portion Fated to lie awake all night telling each another stories about tears and sorrow, asking one and other to guess the same riddle day after day: "oh, for a piece of one of those" 'Ripe bananas!' Wangari replied, as if Muturi had asked her a real riddle. 'Oh for some of that ' Muturi said. 'Fresh, cool water in a cave that belongs to another,' Wangari replied again.

Jina langu ni Enock Maregesi na ningependa kukwambia kisa kidogo kuhusiana na bibi yangu, Martha Maregesi. Mwanamke huyu alikuwa mke mwenye upendo usiokuwa na masharti yoyote. Alikuwa mama na bibi aliyefundisha familia yake umuhimu wa kujitolea na umuhimu wa uvumilivu. Ijapokuwa hakupendelea sana kujizungumzia mwenyewe, ningependa kukusimulia kisa kidogo kuhusiana na hadithi ya maisha ya mwanamke huyu wa ajabu katika maisha yangu. Bibi yangu alizaliwa katika Kitongoji cha Butimba, Kijiji cha Kome, Kata ya Bwasi, Tarafa ya Nyanja (Majita), Wilaya ya Musoma Vijijini, Mkoa wa Mara, katika familia ya watoto kumi, mwaka 1930. Alisoma katika Shule ya Msingi ya Kome ambako alipata elimu ya awali na msingi na pia elimu ya kiroho kwani shule yao ilikuwa ya madhehebu ya Kisabato. Aliolewa na Bwana Maregesi Musyangi Sabi mwaka 1946, na kufanikiwa kupata watoto watatu; wa kiume wakiwa wawili na wa kike mmoja. Matatizo hasa ya bibi yalianza mwaka 2005, alipougua kiharusi akiwa nyumbani kwake huko Musoma. Hata hivyo alitibiwa hapo Musoma na Dar es Salaam akapona na kuwa mwenye afya ya kawaida. Lakini tarehe 19/10/2014 alipatwa tena na kiharusi na kulazwa tena katika Hospitali ya Mkoa ya Musoma, ila akajisikia nafuu na kuruhusiwa kurudi nyumbani – lakini kwa maagizo ya daktari ya kuendelea na dawa akiwa nje ya hospitali. Tarehe 29/10/2014 alirudi tena Hospitali ya Mkoa ya Musoma kwa tiba zaidi, lakini tarehe 4/11/2014 saa 7:55 usiku akafariki dunia; akiwa amezungukwa na familia yake. Dunia ina watu wachache sana wenye matumaini na misimamo ya kutegemea mazuri, na wachache zaidi ambao wako tayari kugawa matumaini na misimamo hiyo kwa watu wengine. Nitajisikia furaha siku zote kwamba miongoni mwa watu hao wachache, hata bibi yangu alikuwemo. Msalaba uliwekwa wakfu na Mwenyezi Mungu baada ya mwili wa Yesu Kristo kuning’inizwa juu yake. Kwa kuwa bibi yangu ametanguliwa na msalaba, msalaba utamwongoza mahali pa kwenda.

Kutokana na utafiti wa kisayansi wa kionairolojia ambayo ni sayansi ya ndoto; wakati tumelala, sehemu yetu ya akili isiyotambua huamka na kuanza kazi; kwa kupangilia mawazo, kuanzia mawazo ya siku iliyopita, na kuimarisha mahusiano baina ya mawazo hayo na matukio ya wakati ujao, huku ikiondoa mawazo yasiyokuwa na maana, kunusuru ubongo usielemewe na msongo. Kazi hiyo hutambuliwa haraka na akili inayotambua, kwa njia ya alamu, lakini akili inayotambua inapagawa kwa sababu haijui akili isiyotambua inamaanisha nini kutuma alamu kama hizo. Kwa hiyo inajaribu kwa kadiri inavyoweza kutunga hadithi kuhusiana na vitu mbalimbali, ambayo baadaye hutafsiriwa kama ndoto. Hii ndiyo sababu tunaota ndoto za ajabu ambazo aghalabu hazina maana yoyote, na hazina maana yoyote kwa sababu hazitakiwi kuwa na maana yoyote, na hazina ujumbe wowote halisi kutoka akilini mwetu. Hayo ni matokeo ya akili kujaribu kusanisi sauti, kutoka katika akili isiyotambua.

Takie dzia­ła­nia to także go­to­wy prze­pis na ka­ta­stro­fę. Nawet naj­po­pu­lar­niej­si twór­cy, któ­rych mamy za wiecz­nie za­do­wo­lo­nych i na­ła­do­wa­nych dobrą ener­gią, łapią so­cial­me­dio­we kry­zy­sy, gdy któ­re­goś dnia nie są w sta­nie wsta­wić żad­ne­go po­zy­tyw­ne­go zdję­cia ani na­grać ekscytujące­go sto­ries. Na tym polu łatwo się wy­pa­lić, znu­dzić swoją dzia­łal­no­ścią i na­brać niebezpiecznego prze­ko­na­nia, że nie mamy prawa do sła­bo­ści oraz gor­szych dni.

On Thursday evenings after the maghrib prayer, the most propitious of gatherings takes place at the majlis. On this occasion, both the juhhal and the uqqal attend. All members listen to a wa‘z, or pious exhortation, often given by the sayis (leader, caretaker) of the majlis, or one of the other sheikhs. The wa‘z usually contains stories and poetry of revered individuals amongst the Druze and exemplifies them as models of particular virtues. Extracts from biographies of the Druze hudud (ministers) as well as medieval Sufis are not uncommon.

Then, too, the Ju/wa men had an inherent, almost natural bravery that everyone took entirely for granted. They hunted the world’s most dangerous game with quarter-ounce arrows, they stood off lions and dealt with strangers, all without a shred of the bravado or machismo that so characterizes the men of other societies, including ours. The Ju/wa men simply did what men do without making anything of it, and didn't even think of themselves as brave.

WaMu’s patchwork of systems for making mortgage loans did not help. A homeowner would lock in a low interest rate through

Fishing for accessories before the fact or deed, the Professor examined Calvin who was obviously sweetly sleeping in his dormitory bed far from suspicion. “But Calvin, you must have heard the noise when the stove rolled down the stairs?” Calvin admitted it. “Then why didn’t you do something, give the alarm?” “It wa’n’t my stove!” quoth the boy who was father of the man. Whenever he faced temptation to “rise and spread the alarm” he always remembered that “it wa’n’t” his “stove.

...an incisive, smartly informative memoir that celebrates the power of the cohesive family unit—its outcome will offer positivity and hope to those facing similar challenges. —KIRKUS REVIEWS Deep Waters is a survival story of the highest order, navigating the complex terrain of marriage, medical crisis, and a future reimagined. After the trauma of her husband’s stroke, Mathews returns to a basic truth: through love, we discover who we are, and who we hope to become. —CAROLINE VAN HEMERT, award-winning author of The Sun is a Compass Mathews has penned a deeply personal love story with the careful rigor of the scientist she is, free of any giddy prose or rainbows. Instead, Deep Waters comes at the reader with the gloves off and goes a full twelve rounds, documenting in granular detail the fears and conflicts attending a life-altering event that can drive even a strong relationship onto the ropes, and the endurance, commitment, and deep love that can save it. —LYNN SCHOOLER, critically acclaimed author of The Blue Bear and Walking Home With love as rugged and wild as the Alaskan landscape she made home, biologist Beth Ann Mathews tells the story of another wilderness: marriage after a life-altering stroke. Deep Waters is a thoughtful and provoking read, a reminder that life and love are inexplicably fragile and resilient, full of unexpected discovery. —ABBY MASLIN, author of Love You Hard Urgent, informative, emotionally satisfying, and thought-provoking, Deep Waters opens with a harrowing medical mystery and rewards the reader with a loving account of an adventurous partnership made stronger by crisis. —ANDROMEDA ROMANO-LAX, author of Annie and the Wolves We felt like we were there with Beth, sharing her emotions, anguish and struggles through the stroke, hospital stay, and recovery. We felt like part of the family as we read, gasped, cried and hoped for recovery and for peace in her heart.”—TBD BOOK CLUB, Seattle, WA If books were birds, this one would be an arctic tern—powerful and graceful, beset by storms and learning to survive, and more, to thrive. The writing is feather-light yet strong. —KIM HEACOX, author of Jimmy Bluefeather Mathews writes with poignant honesty about the challenges of marriage, family, and community in a moving story that highlights the strengths of human relationships. Deep Waters starts with a bang and just keeps going—lively, vivid, and personal. — ROMAN DIAL, author of The Adventurer’s Son: A Memoir

Learn Chinese in 5 Minutes  1) That’s not right = Sum Ting Wong  2) Are you harbouring a fugitive = Hu Yu Hai Ding  3) See me ASAP = Kum Hia  4) Stupid Man = Dum Fuk  5) Small Horse = Tai Ni Po Ni  6) Did you go to the beach = Wai Yu So Tan  7) I bumped the coffee table = Ai Bang Mai Fa Kin Ni  8) I think you need a face lift = Chin Tu Fat  9) It’s Very dark in here = Wai So Dim  10) I Thought you were on a diet = Wai Yu Mun Ching  11) This is a tow away zone = No Pah King  12) Our meeting is scheduled for next week = Wai Yu Kum Nao  13) Staying out of sight = Lei Ying Lo  14) He’s cleaning his automobile = Wa Shing Ka  15) Your body odor is offensive = Yu Stin Ki Pu  16) Great = Fa Kin Su Pah

Should be a fun week. This is what separates good bankers from the posers.” The e-mail exchange grew heated. A manager in charge of WaMu’s deposits responded defensively: “No one is panicking, so long emails that sound preachy don’t help. We are not dumb, let us prepare.” Freilinger replied, “If you fire people up over weekends, you’re fanning flames, not ‘getting ready.’ ‘Getting ready’ takes place months, not hours before a firestorm, by increasing branch awareness through clear pricing signals and encouragement of building deposit excess balances while no obvious sparks around. I never called anyone dumb—but I’ll continue to dial back unnecessarily panicked executives wherever and whenever I find them.

It was strange to see the enemy up close, and at length. I could see fear in their faces - the knowledge that they could be cut down at any moment - but also a willingness to accept that fate in order to perform their solemn tasks. The fighters were young, as soldiers always are, dark beards beneath chestnut eyes. They were of Pashtun origin, but whether from Afghanistan or Pakistan, I could not tell. I only knew that they were the enemy, and when they returned with weapons, then we would kill them.

Dad phoned to wish us happy anniversary, and I picked up the phone and I was going to play it cool, but then I started crying when I started talking—I was doing the awful chick talk-cry: mwaha-waah-gwwahh-and-waaa-wa—so I had to tell him what happened, and he told me I should open a bottle of wine and wallow in it for a bit. Dad is always a proponent of a good indulgent sulk. Still, Nick will be angry that I told Rand, and of course Rand will do his fatherly thing, pat Nick on the shoulder and say, “Heard you had some emergency drinking to do on your anniversary, Nicky.” And chuckle. So Nick will know, and he will be angry with me because he wants my parents to believe he’s perfect—he beams when I tell them stories about what a flawless son-in-law he is. Except for tonight. I know, I know, I’m being a girl.

she was a dreadful woman; and she was, that’s true enough, but sometimes I have wondered lately if she knew it—if she wa’n’t like a baby with scissors in its hand cuttin’ everybody without knowin’ what it was doin’.

We know very little about the earliest days of the Wa. There is no written history from the ancient cultures of Japan; its oldest historical account, the Kojiki, was not written until the seventh century AD. Archaeologists, working from objects rather than stories, speak of the first era of Japanese history as the “Jomon period” Jomon means “cord marked,” and during the Jomon period, the inhabitants of the Japanese islands marked their clay by pressing braided cords into it.