World Cup 2010... that's like talking about the weather when you have nothing else to say to someone. Everyone has an opinion on it. I've been living in SA for about 3 yrs now and even in the earlier days got the feeling that this thing wud get larger than life. I was right! Some predicted it would all come crushing down for SA politically after the World Cup. Others predicted it would just be the beginning (And we all sort of knew SA wud have a rapist as president by now!) Most predicted millions would be swindled out of civilians in the name of govt tenders, the so called stadiums needed, the Ria Via buses (gag!) and the Gautrain (uhh!!) Anyway less than a year to go and we are all waiting and watching i suppose.
I vowed i'd take my first born son to one of the games, while another friend vowed she'd open a catering business in time for the food rush! Another friend said he'd become a pimp and run Jozi's sleaziest brothel! Wishful thinking i suppose on all our parts. I still don't have any children (nor plan to in the foreseable future) My one friend got over the catering thing...her recent craze... handbag retail (u shud hear her trying to get me to buy blatantly fake Guess!) and my other friend is discouraged at the number of thriving brothels there are (we're talking Mexican chicks! lol) I will say though that the prospect of 2010 has had some positive impact in jhb, more so in the CBD. In Newtown all the paths have been paved with brick, in the dodgy street i live in, the council has gone through the painstaking task (one they should have embarked on in 94'really) of installing street lamps and collecting the rubbish at least twice a week. The CBD is looking better than it has in years, almost like ur friends mom who goes on a diet or whatever and morphes into this sexy dish that's sizzlin. I like!
A lot of my collegues and friends already have tickets to some of the games, apparently most of them are sold out already! That's a positive thing i think. It means while evryone else is at the World Cup i'll be at home catching up on all the movies i've missed or painting my toe nails green. I'm sure i'll end up at a game or two none the less. While everyone is doing the whole 'ayobaness' thing, i'll be doing it with them. Screaming my lungs out and just harping on about being a part of the world cup!
Monday, November 9, 2009
Sunday, November 8, 2009
wonderful world
It's the manuscript, the main reason i started reading on West Africa, more so Nigeria. I wanted to write a story that was acurate, though i will admit it's hard to write on something one initially has no clue about. How could i write a story on the Biafran or Ogoniland issue when a few months ago it was foreign to me? Sure the soothing jazz vocals of Ella Fitzgerald in the background as i research on something that's new and exciting makes me feel like Jackie Collins should on a good day, though learning a mindful about anything is still hectic.I wanted to learn however, thus begun my quest to know more. Over the past few months i've read enough West African novels and reports to last a lifetime and my friends think i've lost it. When i do say i'm going to Cameroon, they roll they eyes and think i'm barmy. When i meet with Kwame (my friend from Benin) to watch him ccok up a West African storm (an aquired taste, i believe)the same friends think i'm selling out... I just smile and take in everything i can. (great friends i have don't you think!)
It's just as a southern African i've always had preconceived ideas about our West African brothers and sisters. Previously once anyone opened their mouth and the signature accent flowed out, i'd instantly switch off. I'm not proud of the admission though it goes to show how honestly closed minded i was.
On the other hand, i've just discovered all the 'Indian' looking people who live in Forsdburg ain't all Muslim nor from India. I recently became friends with a guy from Jordon and discovered the only thing he has in common with al the other 'Indian' looking people around him is the fact he speaks Arabic. He actually doesn't celebrate divali nor does he chew on the red chewy stuff though he does do juma. Amazing how we usually judge people based on the stereotypes we claim we don't habour in our minds. Meanwhile i've been reading a lot of Chris Abani and listening to Ghananian music... it is a wonderful world out there, if you give it a chance!
It's just as a southern African i've always had preconceived ideas about our West African brothers and sisters. Previously once anyone opened their mouth and the signature accent flowed out, i'd instantly switch off. I'm not proud of the admission though it goes to show how honestly closed minded i was.
On the other hand, i've just discovered all the 'Indian' looking people who live in Forsdburg ain't all Muslim nor from India. I recently became friends with a guy from Jordon and discovered the only thing he has in common with al the other 'Indian' looking people around him is the fact he speaks Arabic. He actually doesn't celebrate divali nor does he chew on the red chewy stuff though he does do juma. Amazing how we usually judge people based on the stereotypes we claim we don't habour in our minds. Meanwhile i've been reading a lot of Chris Abani and listening to Ghananian music... it is a wonderful world out there, if you give it a chance!
life's uncanny way of going on
Well the hype of district 9 has been and gone. The actors got fat pay cheques and are apparently now A list property... For those of us who thought the whole thing was cringe worthy and gagged throughout the movie the question is 'what was the fuss about?' The Nigerian Minister of something has banned the film from Nigeria because it portrays i qoute "Nigerians as cannibals and knee deep into voodoo."
I'm thinking, with all due respect whats new? I mean after watching a few unsettling Nigerian films i'm surprised there's an uproar. If "Billionaires Club" was anything to go by, a few scenes with a Nigerian drug Lord scoffing down human flesh for power, seems on point. I'm sad it's not really a portrayal of Nigerians as a people, though when was life ever fair. I'm half Zimbabwean and have had to justify the fact that i was brought up on that soil every day of my life.I have to answer weird questions like why we haven't hung Mugabe already!!
Meanwhile my publisher is certain my novel will be published in April 2010,YAY!! It's been a bloody long time comming. So i've been hitting the town in my heels and dancing like its the turn of the new millenium. And why not? I work too hard, the least i can do is play hard! i'm single and don't i want everyone to know it!!!
Life has an uncanny way of going on...
Meanwhile after my ulcer diagnosis (the same one i've told EVERYONE about!)I've started drinking more water and faithfully trying the whole five a day thing.Going well i think,despite the sight of my poo that has a penchant with floating gayly in the chamber (It always sunk to the bottom before)
Life is, in essence, is going on.
Most days i float, some days i just want to disappear.
I'm thinking, with all due respect whats new? I mean after watching a few unsettling Nigerian films i'm surprised there's an uproar. If "Billionaires Club" was anything to go by, a few scenes with a Nigerian drug Lord scoffing down human flesh for power, seems on point. I'm sad it's not really a portrayal of Nigerians as a people, though when was life ever fair. I'm half Zimbabwean and have had to justify the fact that i was brought up on that soil every day of my life.I have to answer weird questions like why we haven't hung Mugabe already!!
Meanwhile my publisher is certain my novel will be published in April 2010,YAY!! It's been a bloody long time comming. So i've been hitting the town in my heels and dancing like its the turn of the new millenium. And why not? I work too hard, the least i can do is play hard! i'm single and don't i want everyone to know it!!!
For the first time in months i can sit in a quaint Italian restuarant and enjoy a glass of red wine by myself while going over some far from flattering reviews of my novel and decide what Shukie is going to do with this life. I recently bumped into a fairly 'young' flame in a club and despite the semi hurt i felt at our particularly abrupt end, didn't have the energy i thought i'd have to pretend i'm over everything. Okay so i didn't burst into tears or anything (that was another occassion, another story!! )
Anyway so for now it's back to blissful reading in bed all day on a Sunday and serial dating on the whim, and drinking boxed wine right out of the box....Life has an uncanny way of going on...
Meanwhile after my ulcer diagnosis (the same one i've told EVERYONE about!)I've started drinking more water and faithfully trying the whole five a day thing.Going well i think,despite the sight of my poo that has a penchant with floating gayly in the chamber (It always sunk to the bottom before)
Life is, in essence, is going on.
Most days i float, some days i just want to disappear.
Saturday, October 3, 2009
for the 'fineness' that is man
My jaw drops,
I do a double take of him,
Then ram, nose first, into the wall,
You see he has me thinking things,
Thoughts of sinning,
Making me ready to outstreach my hand,
Beam my most seductive,and say,
"Hie i'm Shukie, don't mean to be forward, i'm really digging the shirt, though you probably look better without it on... opps did i just say that out aloud?"
Then I laugh like a vamp drunk off cheap wine,
Let his name roll off my lips,
Like i was born to say it,
Saying it musically, writing the first song in our book,
Then singing it to him every day of our lives,
He looks at me, up then down,
Slowly taking in my 34B breasts,
Arranged provacatively in my push up wonder bra,
Now they don't say wonder for nothing hey...
He takes in the texture of my skin,
Peeling me like a grape,
I'm thinking maybe...
We can make a baby,
Maybe we can be the next used to be,
I stick my tongue in his mouth,
Watch amazed as he gasps once we break for air,
He's blushing..
I didn't have him down as a shy type..
Then again,
i guess he didn't think i'd jump him 5 seconds after meeting him,
This one is the fineness that is man,
The way them fine brothers speak,
The way they walk, the clothes they wear,
This is for all the eyecandy out there,
Oh so fine!
I do a double take of him,
Then ram, nose first, into the wall,
You see he has me thinking things,
Thoughts of sinning,
Making me ready to outstreach my hand,
Beam my most seductive,and say,
"Hie i'm Shukie, don't mean to be forward, i'm really digging the shirt, though you probably look better without it on... opps did i just say that out aloud?"
Then I laugh like a vamp drunk off cheap wine,
Let his name roll off my lips,
Like i was born to say it,
Saying it musically, writing the first song in our book,
Then singing it to him every day of our lives,
He looks at me, up then down,
Slowly taking in my 34B breasts,
Arranged provacatively in my push up wonder bra,
Now they don't say wonder for nothing hey...
He takes in the texture of my skin,
Peeling me like a grape,
I'm thinking maybe...
We can make a baby,
Maybe we can be the next used to be,
I stick my tongue in his mouth,
Watch amazed as he gasps once we break for air,
He's blushing..
I didn't have him down as a shy type..
Then again,
i guess he didn't think i'd jump him 5 seconds after meeting him,
This one is the fineness that is man,
The way them fine brothers speak,
The way they walk, the clothes they wear,
This is for all the eyecandy out there,
Oh so fine!
Africa, my first love
I recently fell in love with Africa,for the first time...
Don't get me wrong, i've always liked Africa, i mean i was born in Africa. Southern Africa to be exact, though i actually didn't know much about the continent as a whole, certainly nothing about Western and Northen Africa.Nothing about African politics or the plight we are in. The cold war is over,our colonisers are long gone, though we are apparently still in chains, shackled still, if you will. Until recently i didn't care about any of the 53 countries, about civil wars,or growing poverty. I was simply content in my ignorance,how did the civil war in Angola affect me? What was the whole fuss over oil in Nigeria? Why couldn't everyone just get along. That all changed when i picked up Roert Guest's A shackled continent. What started off as a lazy read had me up until the early hours, laughing out loud and then so gripped with fear and a genuine sense of loss.
Where had we got it wrong? Why did we beg the western world for aid we are apparently 'entitled' to and then use it for our personal extravagances? Yes im referring to our presidents and everyone else in power. On a quest for more answers, i read Phillip Gourevitch's, We wish to inform you that tomorrow we will be killed with our families... a reporters account on the genocides in Rwanda. Then i read Ken Wiwa's memoir of his father, Ken Saro-Wiwa and couldn't believe i'd never heard of him.
One thing was certain though, the root of the problems we have in Africa is because we don't like each other as people. Different tribes just don't get along, the stereotypes our colonisers used to divide us still prevail. In Zambia if you're Tonga, you are considered lazy and foolish. in Zimbabwe you can't be Ndebele, In South Africa if you're Zulu, you're a killer. Further afield in Nigeria if you ain't Wazobian then forget it.
Why has Africa had so much civil war? In all other regions of the world the incidence of civil war has been on a broadly declining trend over the past thirty years: but in Africa the long term trend has been upwards. Of course, every civil war has its ‘story’ – the personalities, the social cleavages, the triggering events, the inflammatory discourse, the atrocities. But is there anything more? Are there structural conditions – social, political or economic - which make a country prone to civil war? Might it be that the same inflammatory politician, playing on the same social cleavages, and with the same triggering events, might ‘cause’ war under one set of conditions and merely be an ugly irritant in another?
Surprisingly, the dominant factors are economic. Three factors matter a lot for the risk of civil war: the level of income, its rate of growth, and its structure. If a country is poor, in economic decline, and is dependent upon natural resource exports, then it faces a substantial risk that sooner or later it will experience a civil war. As was the case in Nigeria, after researching further i discovered there was one major civil war after independance and then a few substantial in the Delta after Ken Saro-Wiwa's fate. Typically, such a country runs a risk of around one-in-seven every five years. Like Russian roulette, things might go well for a while, but then some conjunction of circumstances – the personalities, the triggering events – ignite violent conflict. Of course, when this happens, the media focus on the personalities and the triggering events. These are indeed the proximate ‘cause’ of the conflict. But the big brute fact is that civil war is heavily concentrated in countries with low income, in economic decline, and dependent upon natural resources.
The prolonged viability of UNITA in Angola and the RUF in Sierra Leone; the violent gangs of the Nigerian Delta; and the successful rebellions of Laurent Kabila in Zaire and of Denis Sassou-Nguesso in Congo Brazaville, were all assisted by one or the other of these methods of natural resource financing.
For the best part, i am PROUDLY African and for all the wrong that happens in Africa, merely being born here is priceless. The weather is amazing,our smiles endearing. We are generally helpful to each other and have the warmest hearts. Thanks to my inquisitive streak, i can now safely say i have Zimbabwean, Zambian, Namibian, Ethiopian,Kenyan, Malwian,Nigerian, Mozambiquean, Sierra Leonian and recently added Senegalese friends. Oh and the guy who does my beaded bracelets... he's from Togo.
For the most part Africa will come right, one day.
Don't get me wrong, i've always liked Africa, i mean i was born in Africa. Southern Africa to be exact, though i actually didn't know much about the continent as a whole, certainly nothing about Western and Northen Africa.Nothing about African politics or the plight we are in. The cold war is over,our colonisers are long gone, though we are apparently still in chains, shackled still, if you will. Until recently i didn't care about any of the 53 countries, about civil wars,or growing poverty. I was simply content in my ignorance,how did the civil war in Angola affect me? What was the whole fuss over oil in Nigeria? Why couldn't everyone just get along. That all changed when i picked up Roert Guest's A shackled continent. What started off as a lazy read had me up until the early hours, laughing out loud and then so gripped with fear and a genuine sense of loss.
Where had we got it wrong? Why did we beg the western world for aid we are apparently 'entitled' to and then use it for our personal extravagances? Yes im referring to our presidents and everyone else in power. On a quest for more answers, i read Phillip Gourevitch's, We wish to inform you that tomorrow we will be killed with our families... a reporters account on the genocides in Rwanda. Then i read Ken Wiwa's memoir of his father, Ken Saro-Wiwa and couldn't believe i'd never heard of him.
One thing was certain though, the root of the problems we have in Africa is because we don't like each other as people. Different tribes just don't get along, the stereotypes our colonisers used to divide us still prevail. In Zambia if you're Tonga, you are considered lazy and foolish. in Zimbabwe you can't be Ndebele, In South Africa if you're Zulu, you're a killer. Further afield in Nigeria if you ain't Wazobian then forget it.
Why has Africa had so much civil war? In all other regions of the world the incidence of civil war has been on a broadly declining trend over the past thirty years: but in Africa the long term trend has been upwards. Of course, every civil war has its ‘story’ – the personalities, the social cleavages, the triggering events, the inflammatory discourse, the atrocities. But is there anything more? Are there structural conditions – social, political or economic - which make a country prone to civil war? Might it be that the same inflammatory politician, playing on the same social cleavages, and with the same triggering events, might ‘cause’ war under one set of conditions and merely be an ugly irritant in another?
Surprisingly, the dominant factors are economic. Three factors matter a lot for the risk of civil war: the level of income, its rate of growth, and its structure. If a country is poor, in economic decline, and is dependent upon natural resource exports, then it faces a substantial risk that sooner or later it will experience a civil war. As was the case in Nigeria, after researching further i discovered there was one major civil war after independance and then a few substantial in the Delta after Ken Saro-Wiwa's fate. Typically, such a country runs a risk of around one-in-seven every five years. Like Russian roulette, things might go well for a while, but then some conjunction of circumstances – the personalities, the triggering events – ignite violent conflict. Of course, when this happens, the media focus on the personalities and the triggering events. These are indeed the proximate ‘cause’ of the conflict. But the big brute fact is that civil war is heavily concentrated in countries with low income, in economic decline, and dependent upon natural resources.
The prolonged viability of UNITA in Angola and the RUF in Sierra Leone; the violent gangs of the Nigerian Delta; and the successful rebellions of Laurent Kabila in Zaire and of Denis Sassou-Nguesso in Congo Brazaville, were all assisted by one or the other of these methods of natural resource financing.
For the best part, i am PROUDLY African and for all the wrong that happens in Africa, merely being born here is priceless. The weather is amazing,our smiles endearing. We are generally helpful to each other and have the warmest hearts. Thanks to my inquisitive streak, i can now safely say i have Zimbabwean, Zambian, Namibian, Ethiopian,Kenyan, Malwian,Nigerian, Mozambiquean, Sierra Leonian and recently added Senegalese friends. Oh and the guy who does my beaded bracelets... he's from Togo.
For the most part Africa will come right, one day.
Allow me to pms.. jus a lil bit
okay so im an arguably attractive twenty- four old, with a great body, great friends and a job that many think makes for the bubbly person i am. My bills are paid on time and i have an active social life, in the past few years i've managed to break a fistful of hearts...
I'm considered strong willed and determined in most circles, i sing in the shower,stick flowers in my hair and i actually own a 'happy' place!
I fall apart though.
I remember the first time i did.Years ago i was shacking up with my then boyriend in a dodgy flat in west London. He was unfortunately my life, my food, the water that quinched my thirst, my day, my nightime. (I see you gagging already, i gag too now in retrospect)It goes without mention that our break up left me self detructing. The only positive thing i took away with me was a svelter (more svelt?) me! Food had apparently lost its taste, the birds weren't chirping in my world and i couldn't seem to get out of bed.I couldn't go to any social evets without downing a bottle of wine first to numb the pain. I'd call him later drunk and wail, and ask through slurred sniffs why he'd taken my heart, split it into two and trod on its remains! That was about five years ago. Though that relationship has defined many of the others that have followed.
I fell apart a few weeks ago, though gratefully this time it wasn't over a man, okay maybe a lil bit. The details of my current breakdown are complicated, maybe i should say i just got tired of walking around with flowers in my hair and pretending i was alright. My job, bless its soul, doesn't insipre me as much as it used to in the start. My attempt to go back to university this year failed and i haven't been in a relationship for so long i'm not sure i remember what that should be like. My mother lives alone in a country that should be my home, though each time i visit her i feel guilty because i hate it and always count down the days for my flight back to jhb.
I want to cry, tap into the pain i feel, though i've managed to morph into a cold being who doesn't show emotions. I want to be held in strong loving arms and be accepted for the semi alcoholic i am. A fully fledged insomniac, i yearn to sleep. I'm loneliest in a room filled with people. I'm screaming in my head, though theres a smile plastered on my face. You'd think i'd have it altogether by now, but i don't.
I'm considered strong willed and determined in most circles, i sing in the shower,stick flowers in my hair and i actually own a 'happy' place!
I fall apart though.
I remember the first time i did.Years ago i was shacking up with my then boyriend in a dodgy flat in west London. He was unfortunately my life, my food, the water that quinched my thirst, my day, my nightime. (I see you gagging already, i gag too now in retrospect)It goes without mention that our break up left me self detructing. The only positive thing i took away with me was a svelter (more svelt?) me! Food had apparently lost its taste, the birds weren't chirping in my world and i couldn't seem to get out of bed.I couldn't go to any social evets without downing a bottle of wine first to numb the pain. I'd call him later drunk and wail, and ask through slurred sniffs why he'd taken my heart, split it into two and trod on its remains! That was about five years ago. Though that relationship has defined many of the others that have followed.
I fell apart a few weeks ago, though gratefully this time it wasn't over a man, okay maybe a lil bit. The details of my current breakdown are complicated, maybe i should say i just got tired of walking around with flowers in my hair and pretending i was alright. My job, bless its soul, doesn't insipre me as much as it used to in the start. My attempt to go back to university this year failed and i haven't been in a relationship for so long i'm not sure i remember what that should be like. My mother lives alone in a country that should be my home, though each time i visit her i feel guilty because i hate it and always count down the days for my flight back to jhb.
I want to cry, tap into the pain i feel, though i've managed to morph into a cold being who doesn't show emotions. I want to be held in strong loving arms and be accepted for the semi alcoholic i am. A fully fledged insomniac, i yearn to sleep. I'm loneliest in a room filled with people. I'm screaming in my head, though theres a smile plastered on my face. You'd think i'd have it altogether by now, but i don't.
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