The market was old, timeless Africa; loud, crowed and free. Here a man sat making sandals from old discarded motor-car tyres; there another worked at an old sewing machine, making a nightgown-like affair while the buyer waited; a little further on, an old goldsmith worked at his dying art, but using now copper fillings instead of gold to fashion the lovely trinkets women wear the world over; elsewhere a woman sold country cloth fashioned with such fine art that only Africans think of it as a garment of utility. Trade was slow and loud everywhere. This was as much a social as a shopping centre. For an excuse to spend the day at the market, a woman would walk all way from her village to town with half dozen eggs. She would spread them on a little bit of ground for which she paid rent. Through the day she would squat on the ground and talk to others who came for the same reason. She would refuse to sell her wares till it was time to leave. They were the excuse for business. Whether in earnest or as an excuse, the traders were boisterously free, loud-mouthed and happy. The laughter of the market was a laughter found nowhere else in all the world……………

I dare not lift the veil that protects our tribal marriage customs and ceremonies from the eyes of outsiders. There is already too little in this world that is sacred; and what Fatmata and I were required to go through during the next week must remain so. I was deeply in debt by the time everything was over, but I was absolutely satisfied with my parents’ choice. Fatmata was as black as satin, and as soft. She had the teeth and smile of a goddess. The Dopo tutors had done their job well; she was a completely efficient lover and mother. I brought her home with swelling pride, and began at once to save all I could spare towards the cost of acquiring my second wife. My anti-Western revolt was gaining momentum

In 1973 a Japanese sericulturist arrives in Malawi with a batch of 40,000 silkworm eggs. They were taken to the Bvumbwe Agricultural Research Station in Thyolo District. In this station, work is being done to determine favourable silkworm rearing conditions and areas where mulberry trees, leaves the worms feed on, could grow well. According to researchers, the silkworms- which eventually develop into cocoons from which raw silk is produced – do well with warm climatic conditions.
Silk is one of the strongest of fibers. Infect, for thousands of years, silk fabrics have been regarded as the most beautiful and durable materials woven by man. Many people call silk the cloth of kings and queens’.
The weaving of silk originated in china. An old Chinese book believed to be written by Confucius, tells us that the wife of Emperor Huang ti was the first person fabrics of silk. Around 2640 B.C Emperor Huang ti asked his wife His Ling-shih to study the worms that were destroying the mulberry trees in his garden. The Empress took some of the cocoons into the palace to see what they were made of. She dropped one of the cocoons into a bowl of boiling water and was amazed to see a cobweb-like tangle separate itself from the cocoon. She picked up the gauzy mass and found that one of the threads could be unwound almost without end from the cocoon. His Ling-shih had discovered silk. She was delighted with the discovery and even wove a ceremonial robe for the Emperor out of the cocoon threads. After that, the officials in the Emperor’s court wore brightly dyed silk robes on important occasions.
People in other countries regarded the new fibers as something rare and beautiful. A few traders went to China to learn about making cloth from silk, but the Chines kept their silkworm a closely guarded secret.