The first thing which hit me when I visited
Kalingalinga was the ‘Life must go on’ attitude
among the residents. Despite the place being a poor area many went on with
their lives hoping for the best in the near future. Kids, in general, were a
marvel to watch as they freely danced, played football, netball or other
games. Another subject I chose was the saloons, traders and craftspeople along
the main road and streets. The colourful plastic containers were turned into
‘geysers’ or heating elements. Others were converted into washing basins. High-quality metal gates, door, window frames, wood furniture were made and sold. Innovation
was all over. Kalingalinga reminds me of my home town compounds. From now on
after this workshop, I will do my own story in Ndola.
I
also took time to talk a few old people who told me about the roots of
Kalingalinga. According to them ‘Kalingalinga’ is a Nyanja word a person who
moves from place to place, denoting its previous role as a transit area. It is
a land of two abandoned farms belonging to a Mr Duddia and a Mr Mendo, who
lived in the area in the 1950s.
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