They named him
They shamed him
They named her
They stoned her
They screamed justice
I scream brutish
They are no longer our homes
In which we keep our belongings
And then to have forty winks
We rise before the rest of the city
And retire last
Yet we are paid no more
For spending a sixth of the day
Trying to get to there.
What should you say to someone who offers you drugs (like heroin or coke), “No, thanks.” or “F**k off!”?
Would the former not be asking to be coerced?
Would the latter not be too rude and hurtful?
Should everyone try it at least once so you know it’s really nothing to write home about?
What if you try it and like the feel of it?
PS. I haven’t been offered any. I just wonder because it seems so remote to me…
So they exchange homes for two weeks
Husbands and offspring
Duties and needs
Perchance they exchange their lives
Dinners and chores
Work and pets
But what if the sparks fly
And the ‘sleeping arrangements’ are muddled?
When my sister was in nursery school, she used to come home with scratches on her arms from where a bully in her class had scratched her. Once she complained to our Mama. Mama got mad.
She asked, “Is X in your class?”
Sis replied, “Yes”
“Is he bigger than you?
She asked her, “So why didn’t you scratch him back? Next time you go to school and X scratches you again, and you don’t scratch him back with all you’ve got, I will punish you!”
My sister was petrified. Next day rolls around. Lo and behold, X scratches her. She was scared. Scared of X and scared that if she didn’t scratch back Mama would spank her. She hesitated. Which did she fear more, Mama or X? No brainer.
With that she pounced on X scratched his face, his arms, his legs. He wasn’t stronger after all! He ran away crying and never scratched her again. Mama gave her a treat when she came back home!
I recently asked her about it and she said it was because she can’t fight all her children’s battles for them. It was a valuable lesson to teach them to fight back. Maybe one day I will see her point of view. Or maybe not.
I have ran
I have faltered
I have ran again
Now, to the last lap
The race seems tougher
Yet, it must be finished
Not finished first or faster
The prize is so near
So with weary legs and feet like lead
I need a rest but trudge on
Damn, I need to finish this race.
So after I try to avoid looking at the breast feeding going on to my left, I’m but left with my right to look at. Now, this late teens/early twenties lady sitting by me is clearly in pain. But she seems so focused on her phone, tapping away at her keypad ferociously. I try not to steal glances at it, but I’m intrigued. What could be so important that it surpasses toothache? I didn’t have to wonder for long. Because she tapped my arm a few minutes later and said to me,
“Miss, can you please read this and see if it makes any sense?”
So I take the phone and read it, it’s a long jumbled up text and you guessed right, the text was to her boyfriend/love interest. The import of the text was, he wasn’t treating her right, someday someone will do so, she will then leave and he will look for her but not find her. But there were some proverbs and wise sayings laced in. Go figure.
Another shock! Is she really worrying about a boy when she had a toothache? (Mind you, my reaction would be the same if it was a boy worrying about a girl.) What happened to the akan saying about “kakaw, ayεmukaw nna εkaw (tr: toothache, stomachache and debt) being the three most painful things in the world? This girl has proved it so wrong! Or maybe not.
My wisdom tooth woes, has taken me back to the doctor with the drills. At least I didn’t have to go to the one with the sullen secretary ;-). So I found a seat in the waiting room and tried to relax. I’m sandwiched between two women, a nursing? mother and a heartbroken? girl. (The girl’s story will come later).
At first, the nursing mother seemed like a woman with a toddler. The little girl on her lap was busily munching on crispy plantain chips. That should tell me she has, at least her premolars present. Now this little girl must have become rather thirsty all of a sudden because she stopped chewing, popped open a couple on Mama’s shirt buttons and shoved an exposed breast into her mouth and sucked away! Boy, my jaw dropped!
Now my shock does not come from breastfeeding in public, not at all. It comes from the age of the child. The child has enough coordination to unbutton a shirt and enough teeth to chew plantain chips. How about some good old water or orange juice? Or am I the only one who finds this almost unsettling?
I’ve had enough
You say I’m rough
I’ve had my fill
Of your bitter pill
I give my best
To you, it’s a jest
I give my all
You ask if that’s all
So today I wake up
This hour I wise up
I’m leaving you
‘Cause I can’t please you
Did I hear, “Please stay”?
Oh, do tell, I pray
If you see only flaws
If I have only faults
Why should I stick around?
Why should I come around?
This weekend I chanced upon a certain controversy that had been brewing over the last two years that I was totally unaware of. Disney was making a darker skinned girl their princess in their upcoming animation- The princess and the frog. She’s from New Orleans and is to be called Princess Tiana. It’s a beautiful idea if you ask me, as it will give the self image of little black girls a boost. God knows we’ve waited for this long enough. I was even one of those little girls who had to imagine myself ‘white’ before a knight in shining amour could come to my rescue, whisk me away and live happily ever after.
Okay, back to the point. Originally Princess Tiana was to have been called Princess Maddy, but pressure groups didn’t like the name because it was to plain. Really? What did they want LaShauna, Shaquinta, Levondia? Then we come the princess’ role, she was to have been a chamber maid, fall in love with the frog, kiss him, frog turns into a prince, they marry she becomes a princess and they live happily ever after. Nice? No, according to the pressure group, well, depicting a black girl as a chamber maid is so stereotypical. So with that, they made Princess Tiana a real princess from New Orleans. Do we have royalty in New Orleans? Don’t Americans abhor royalty? I thought Cinderella was a cinder maid. What about giving people the hope that they can become ‘something’ someday?
Aren’t we taking all this to a whole different level? Is there a fine line between affirmative action and ridiculous? Please educate me because I think it’s a little ridiculous.
This award was passed on by Miss Maxy. I’m to write 7 things about myself and tag a couple(or so) of others to do same. “Hmmm, who will I tag? That’s the first thing going through my mind. I don’t wanna tag someone who doesn’t wanna be tagged, yet… We’ll see how it goes when I’m done.”
Ok, now I tag
Why wait to write a eulogy
When you can say in person
“I love you”
Why wait to etch on a tombstone
When you can make a call to say
“I love you”
Why wait to say in tears
When you can say in laughter
“I love you”
- - - ~ To Ebow, for not waiting.
Funny how I can say
All the right things
When the pain is not mine
When the anguish
Belongs to someone else
But when the tables turn
I only feel sadness
Depression and agony
And not a single wise quote
Or uplifting word
Will my brain churn out
For my comfort
The last meeting
Was a teary parting two decades ago
The joys leaving school called
The promises of tomorrow beckoned
Each went to their own
To make bread with the grain given
Today she bumps into her in town
Her life seems like a rainbow
Complete with that pot of gold
A thriving business for her work
A wealthy hunk for her husband
A life in HD
She, not so much, she muses
She hasn’t had much colour
Single mother, runaway dad
Struggling to make ends meet
It seems she’s been given a raw deal
A life in black and white
They are pretend they’re happy to see each other
They secretly eye each other enviously
Each wants what the other has
A son for one, a husband for the other
Oh, but they have a lot more in common
They both cry themselves each night to sleep
I was with my mother as she was gardening the other day. As she dug up clumps of earth with her fork she complained, “I wish these tomatoes were as resilient as the weeds are. You don’t have to put any insecticides or manure and they grow outrageously. My tomatoes are getting blight. Yet they all grow in the same soil.”
Later on I thought to myself, we humans are like that. The rogues and rascals thrive, while good people are ruined. A setback, a harsh word or an illness and we succumb. We dig in our heels; we give up and claim we are victims. If the rogues were to be deterred by the harsh words they have heard or even some of the unpleasant consequences they have had, this world would be a utopia. Yet they forge on against all odds.
We should learn from them. But of what use is a weed or scoundrel to anyone? Maybe a hybrid would work. We need to have the usefulness of a tomato and the resilience of a weed.
The men in the beer adverts do not have a potbelly, as they should
French fries and cheese cake are deliciously bad for your heart and waist
There will always be someone better at your game than you
Your hard work may only be rewarded with your boss’ riches
No matter how much you try, good looks essentially comes from genetics
Your (or your wife’s) breasts will sag a couple of degrees every year
85% of men who die from heart attacks during sex are found to have been cheating on their wives.
There is only one universal passion: fear- George Bernard Shaw
I chanced upon this quote and thought of all the things I’m afraid of. So many things come to mind and some of them are just irrational! But apparently everyone has at least one irrational fear. I’ll tell you two of mine;
I’m afraid of the dark. I’m afraid of dark alleys, dark rooms and dark streets, anything dark. I’m afraid of what might be lurking in there. Waiting to “catch me”! I’m afraid of not being able to see what is out there. I can’t even sleep in a dark room. There has to be some light sifting in through the window or at least a nightlight. I’m afraid of being afraid of the dark.
I’m afraid of clowns, masqueraders (kaakaamotobi), fancy dress parties, I’m afraid of it all. Why do you have to dress up all weird? The point is….? Tell me what is funny about clowns? Or masqueraders?... So I’m afraid of it. Because they look scary. (You can tell I’m being a bit defensive here, huh?) Unfortunately, this particular one is a proper phobia, hyperventilation, sweats, shivers and asthmatic attacks!
I know y’all will laugh. But we are all afraid of something. I’ve told you some of the weird things I’m afraid of…What are you afraid of?
We all know the attributes of a good man; responsible, industrious, street savvy, thrifty, caring etc. But sometimes when women are deciding whether or not to look at a long term relationship with a man or whether or not to kick a man out, certain petty issues are considered along with the important ones named above. My friend Esi Cleland made a podcast recently about top 10 things to look out for in a man and that dealt with the big ‘uns mentioned above! This post deals with the little ’uns. Below are just five of what would be on my (long-ish) list.
PS. I am not an uptight bitch. (Hehehe.)
Alas, in the heat of their passion one afternoon
As they struggled out of their garments
The chain that held us broke and I bounced off
She couldn’t stop to search for me, could she?
Not until the red hot lava had cooled
But I was under this heavy mahogany wardrobe
Among the fluff of dust and cobwebs
Oh dear, she’s leaving without me
(The wistful end)
I heard him whisper he would get her another
A shiny new piece all dolled up and fancy
But she wears him with pride, oh how could she?
I thought our love was timeless and endless
Life was so good when it was just she and I
Oh, why did she have to bring him into our lives?
It wouldn’t be so bad if I was lost in her room
But, every night I have to lay here and listen to him snore
It was love at first sight between us two
I caught her eye as she passed by the shop
She immediately came in and asked to see me
And picked me up with the most delicate fingers
As I lay in her soft smooth palm
I could only imagine how good it would feel
To lie close to her heart and feel its rhythm
To lie between the soft mounds of flesh on her chest
So began our affair of five years
She called me her lucky charm, her love
She daintily fingered me when she was deep in thought
I was never far away from her heart
We loved each other endlessly
But, oh, fate played its nasty cards
I was to be betrayed, I was to be replaced
She and I became she, him and I
As I entered the lonely lobby
A classical collection wafted weakly in the air
If it was to pacify patients for the impending ordeal, it failed woefully
Because to my edgy ears it sounded cacophonous
The sullen secretary peered pointedly at me over her horn rimmed glasses
I nervously neared her and demanded the dentist
She lazily listened and rudely replied
“Sit your seat”
Without a blithering blink, and all the while, shuffling sheets
So I teetered toward the seats
And sunk into a soft sofa along the wall
Sweaty palms picked up a peeling pamphlet
Damp hands, despite the chilly atmosphere
Either from of the whirring window unit
Or from the frigid female who sat across from me
Aunt Anxiety whispered to me to tap my feet to calm the nerves
Sullen Secretary shot me and my funny feet a lethal look that almost made me slither silently to the ground
They barked at me
So I did them dutifully
Maybe if they had added
I’d have done ‘em with glee
And I’d have learnt more
‘Cause I’d have thought for myself
I woke up this morning yearning for you
I started my day feeling blue
I thought it’d pass, I thought I’d be fine
Like a fool, I toed the line
Through the day it grew worse
It almost made me smile-averse
The day ended, how, I have no clue
I’m going to bed tonight yearning for you
He: “Will you come to the party at XYZ club on Saturday?”
Me(shifty eyes): “Er I’m not sure I have to do this thing with my sister at uhm…”
He: “Oh, but can’t you come afterwards?”
Me(scratching neck): “Uhm, it might be late by the time we finish but er, I’ll see what I can do.”
He: “I’d really like you to come.”
Me(stifled sigh + wide smile): “Ok I’ll be there.”
He: “That’s brilliant, will see you then.”
Conversation discarded by Me.
Wednesday. Thursday. Friday. Saturday-Morning, afternoon, late afternoon, evening. Lounging. Phone call. Who? He! He? He!
He: “Hey, what’s up? Where are you? Its 10:30pm.”
Me(rush of thoughts): “You won’t believe this, I came but couldn’t find the place. I asked all manner of people but they couldn’t help and because it was late I just came back home…”
Silence. 2 sec. 5 sec. 8…
Me(heart in mouth): Hello? He?
Me(‘Geez, I’m effed’ thoughts): Did you hear what I just said?
He: “Yeah, I’m just trying to figure out how you took 45mins to dress up, 45 mins to drive over here 30 mins to get lost, another 45 mins to drive back home all before 10:30 for a party that started at 8pm.”
Me(self image dwindled to size of peanut): “Uh, er...I’m not sure”
Today is my birthday and as I was reading all my birthday wishes, I just started thinking of all the things I would want to have happened or I would aspire to do this next year. I’m gonna list a few here; I hope
I will draw closer to God
I will be generally nicer to people
I will be patient
I will exercise more- at least 4 times a week
I will eat healthier (less chocolate and ice cream)
I will try to control the road rage (Thanks trotro drivers)
I will return phone calls
I will stop procrastinating (Abena take a cue. ;-))
I will study more often
I will give to the poor and/or do some volunteer work
I will keep in touch with friends
I will learn a new language
I will sharpen my knitting, crocheting and sewing skills
I will have at least “50 savvy lovers”!
I hope I would have finished my final year of school by now. Yay!
A year from today, I will let y’all know how I did. Thanks once again to all of those who sent me those lovely messages.
How many times
Have you forgotten
Your to-do list
And then kicked yourself
Because you forgot
Well, think of it
If you never forgot
Everything you did
All the pain
All the anger
All the vicious words
Others have said
Forgetfulness, a blessing
On this earth.
Why is there no manual?
No set of instructions
To this life we lead
This love we share
So many mistakes, saved
So much heartache spared
TVs and Microwaves have ‘em
Even tables and lights fixtures
So why not something as large as life
Or as beautiful as love?
There are 4 categories of friends people have. (According to me)
Girl friends/Boy friends- Depending on whether you are a guy or girl, you have these. Well sometimes, they are of the opposite sex. They are the friends you have had since you were in nappies. They know everything about you, and yet they still love you. You know their Grandparents and they know yours. They are the first person anyone will call if they couldn’t find you. The closest thing you have to a best friend.
Perpetual Crush- This is the guy/girl that you have never dated but you have a crush on. You probably never dated that person because, you both had partners or your best friend fancied him/her before you did or there is something simply not right about him/her. Even though you fancy this guy/girl you somehow know that you would never date them because if you did, it would never work.
The man/woman- This is the love of your life. You may marry him/her or you may not. But you know that you will always love that person no matter what the person does. If you are fortunate enough to be dating or married to that man/woman, then life’s heaven. (Awww)
The Haters- You tolerate them. You know they hate your guts and/or you hate theirs but for some unspoken reason, you pretend to like each other. (The smiling makes my face hurt) The reason for the hatred is diverse. It could be because they were smarter than you in elementary school, or that you are richer than them, or worse they have the body you have always wanted. Sometimes you don’t like them simply because they talk too much or try to copy everything you do.
Did I miss any?
Here’s a list of 10 things you will always in my bag or purse.
1. Hand sanitiser
2. Make up bag (mascara, lip gloss, eye liner, pressed powder, little body splash, etc.)
3. Sanitary towel/tampon
4. Tissue (I don’t use hankies. At all)
5. Hand cream
6. Wallet (ATM/Debit Cards, ID Cards, cash, pictures, a special note from 2007;-))
9. Nail file
10. Mobile Phone
Ok, I’m at 10 but there are still some things I haven’t put down…
12. Safety pins
14. Small notebook
20. Sweets and/or their wrappers.
No it’s not a huge bag or a mini suitcase! It’s a regular sized ladies bag. I know some of it is pretty weird but who’s not anyway? Those who didn’t know now know.
Here’s an article I found while surfing the net. Some websites are disproving it saying it’s just a spoof by some people aimed at patting ourselves on the back and showing how far we have come. ‘The way we were’ v ‘The way we are’. Other people swear by it and say that it is a real magazine article. A woman in her 70’s says that even if it was not a real magazine article, that was the sentiment in those days so, hell, it might as well be true. Then, I chanced upon a group on Facebook called “Revitalization of traditional gender roles” -because it works. They think this article should be followed (with a few modifications). Read on and I will ask my questions after:
May 13, 1955 issue of Housekeeping Monthly
THE GOOD WIFE’S GUIDE:
1. Have dinner ready. Plan ahead, even the night before, to have a delicious meal ready, on time for his return. This is a way of letting him know that you have been thinking about him and are concerned about his needs. Most men are hungry when they come home and the prospect of a good meal (especially his favorite dish) is part of the warm welcome needed.
2. Prepare yourself. Take 15 minutes to rest so you'll be refreshed when he arrives. Touch up your make-up and be fresh looking. He has just been with a lot of work weary people.
3. Be a little gay and a little more interesting for him. His boring day may need a list and one of your duties is to provide it.
4. Clear away the clutter. Make one last trip through that main area of the house just before your husband arrives.
5. Gather up schoolbooks, toys, paper, etc and then run a dust cloth over the tables.
6. Over the cooler months of the year you should prepare and light a fire for him to unwind by. Your husband will feel he has reached a haven of rest and order, and it will give you a lift too. After all, catering for his comfort will provide immense personal satisfaction.
7. Prepare the children. Take a few minutes to wash the children's hands and faces (if they are small), comb their hair and, if necessary, change their clothes. Minimise all noise. At the time of his arrival, eliminate all noise of the washer, dryer, and vacuum. Try to encourage the children to be quiet.
8. Be happy to see him.
9. Greet him with a warm smile and show sincerity to please him.
10. Listen to him. You have a dozen important things to tell him, but the moment of his arrival is not the time. Let him talk first--remember his topics of conversation are more important than yours.
11. Make the evening his. Never complain if he comes home late or goes out to dinner, or other places of entertainment without you. Instead, try to understand his world of strain and pressure and his real need to be at home and relax.
12. Your goal: Try to make your home a place of peace, order, and tranquility where your husband can renew himself in body and spirit.
13. Don't greet him with complaints and problems.
14. Make him comfortable. Have him lean back in a comfortable chair or have him lie down in the bedroom. Have a cool or warm drink ready for him.
15. Arrange the pillows and offer to take off his shoes. Speak in a low, soothing, and pleasant voice.
16. Don’t ask him questions about his actions or question his judgment or integrity. Remember, he is the master of the house and as such will always exercise his will with fairness and truthfulness. You have no right to question him.
17. A good wife knows her place.
Assuming this article was real;
Did women in the 50’s have careers or were they full time homemakers?
Were women in the 50’s happier than women of today?
What was the role of the men in the 50’s?
Will the rate of divorce drastically reduce if women of today followed this guide?
Do men of today really wish this “creed” was followed?
Were men in the 50’s happier than men of today?