Recent Columns

Your mother is dead. Divorce knocks. Your son is lost. It’s cancer. You’re laid off. You’ve broken up. The car crash. You can’t stomach it all. Trust?

Press accountability is terribly undeveloped in this country. This is why vegetable papers prowl and destroy journalistic ethics under the guise of journalism and with impunity.

I think of what Saint Augustine said: “The world is a book and those who do not travel read only one page.”

We believe in Heaven not through religious instruction but rather because of an instinct that’s hard-wired into us, like a child in the womb who senses some grand world outside his dark closet.

The Standard, launched May 7, 2007, celebrates three years of publication.

An open letter to Canadian Prime Minister Stephen Harper about maternal mortality.

Nearing the five-year mark of my family's foray into Uganda, here's a mind-bender from my happy and ever-inquisitive four-year-old, Jonathan: "Daddy, when you grow up, are you going to be dead?"

Hurry up and wait. Why isn't this Uganda's national motto? No, really. Can't someone get it on the flag, on official documents and on television?

In Uganda, communities and individuals are stepping forward like never before as champions for maternal care.

"I commend this university for its tremendous work with safe motherhood; for its training and for its sensitizing the public."

UCU's Health and Safety Committee will clamp down on pets who "wander around the campus." They're to be vaccinated and kept "indoors." Spot checks are coming.

In Berlin, both presidents had watershed moments, and both are revered.

While we need not be entirely cheerful in the face of Armageddon, we can still offer the worried world something different.

OK, so what if Chicken Little was right? Chicken Little is that bird who got hit on the head by a falling acorn and then ran around screaming "The sky is falling!" He got all his forest friends in an alarmist tizzy and, on their way to tell the king, they were summarily fooled and eaten by that Foxy Loxy.

While here in the heart of Africa, I think of Canada often. Fall is no exception.