Everywhere you go you find an adjective “new generation” accompanied by an ordinary noun; new generation ID and passport, new generation iPod, new generation face and heart book, new generation yahoo and hot mail, new generation East African Community, new generation sombe/imyumbati, new generation ikyivuguto, and so on.
If you don’t change, change will change you. I am not the first, neither the last to say this because whenever you say something, you are quickly told that Sir Socrates, Aristocrat and Shakespeare had said it. Anyway, I just need to do what Sir Jesus did when he told his dad to forgive his crucifiers for they didn’t know what they were doing.
Today, everywhere you go you find an adjective “new generation” accompanied by an ordinary noun; new generation ID and passport, new generation iPod, new generation face and heart book, new generation yahoo and hot mail, new generation East African Community, new generation sombe/imyumbati, new generation ikyivuguto, and so on. I also want to be in the new generation register so I don’t want to bore you with a long catalogue of this new generation thing.
If you don’t want to be awarded a green card to live and work in 1930 Prison – where you get free food, free housing, and 24-hour security – you shouldn’t be ignorant of the rapid revolution of the new generation language. Ignorance is not a defence and you should not fly into trouble like a butterfly that flies into fire.
If your geography disappointed you in school, this popular home known as 1930 is located down Rumbangura House near Itomuhima and the store where Rwanda’s records are kept. The new generation philosophy is a way of trying to disapprove what a certain man who had seen a whole century said there was nothing new under the sun.
To avoid starvation to death, never make a mistake of calling your madam your wife. Instead, you should call her your honourable deputy director and domestic financial controller of all your wealth.
Be informed that women didn’t go to Beijing to see China’s Great Wall; they went to mark the end of men’s kingdom. It was this very time when man’s rulership was technically overthrown by unfair acclimation by those who wore inverted clothes that looked like something closer to a beehive. It was the beginning of an era when men were expected to surrender their trousers in exchange for skirts. From that time, a man began to look like a hen that had been rained on or one that suffered from bird flu.
For the sake of your safety, never call your daughter a lady because she might think you mean she is ready to be exchanged for several papers that are printed and distributed by the Rwanda National Bank.
Never look at your son when he is watching pornography on his iPod by taping it with his fingers. Never sympathise with him; just say he’s having an advanced alternative safe sex – free from HIV/AIDS.
To avoid sleeping outside like a lorry, never call your son a big boy, you should call him pre-man –something between boys and men.
His Worship the mayor of Kigali City would lead a demonstration demanding for your immediate arrest and have you sent to 1930 if you referred to some of his boys as sewage workers. You should call them specialists in treatment of human biogas and other related wastes. And never refer to the highway that ferries human biogas as a manhole; you should simply call it humanhole if not personhole.
Mind your language when you pass by a person wearing second-hand clothes stretching his offertory basket that is never satisfied.
Never call him that fellow who reaps where he never sowed by asking for illegal tithes and offerings with neither qualification nor experience as a priest or pastor. You will land yourself in trouble if you call him/her a beggar. Simply call him/her small a scale local revenue collector or wealth-deprived member of the society.