This is in the same vein as the first Laugh of the Day. Ummm, the recession is hitting people so hard that instead of bargain designer bags ebay are selling, well, designer bags with a difference...Paper bags!
Funnily enough the guy I wrote the last poem about got into contact. Some background: We had issues, timing was always off. I wasn't over my ex, then I was bereaved then he was bereaved. So we had a total break from each other for a few months, saw other people. But then we hooked up again and decided we wanted to try again. We were sorting out our issues when she pops up, told him she was pregnant (3 months gone) and keeping it and determined to make a go of it. He refuses to be with her and she's been doing some pretty amazing things to get him to be with her. But he is a stubborn goat and gets her out of the situations she gets in, tells her its for the sake of the baby and then reminds her they are not together. I'm sure she has a voodoo doll with my name on it. Anyways... My stupid MSN Live Messenger is always logged in because I always ignore it I was not too bothered until I saw the dreaded flashing orange bar with his name on it. Being either brave or stupid (you decide) I decided to reply and hi. This is what I hear: His whore is overdue, if she's not given birth by next week she'll be induced and he'll be someone's daddy. It's my fault I confess I asked him if he was a daddy yet so what did I expect? Then he is like oh am I married yet? What's that supposed to mean. He saw me in town with a guy added two and two and came up with 75. Anyway he decides to let his feeling out about how he's sorry he hurt me and he never meant to. I believe him, I've had the unfortunate experience of dating some pretty big assholes who have enjoyed hurting me and he was never like that. But who cares? It's the same result if I'm hurt isn't it? Wait before I depart into ramble mode, I need to let you know the fuckeries. The whore got kicked out by her mum and guess who she's living with now? It's like rubbing salt in my wounds, they r living together like cute little family unit. This shouldn't hurt but it does. And the worst, worst, WORST thing is I haven't spoken to him in a couple months and I was dreaming that in that time she would lose her baby, so I could be happy again. Now he's telling me he's so sorry and he didn't want to bring his drama into my life. Then he tells me he loves me and has done for a while. So I'm crying now because I do still care about him, I'm crying because she really is going to have his baby and I'm crying because I wish I could find it within me to not wish such horrible things on a pure innocent party that I secretly wish was mine. Fuckeries.
This is something I wrote to help me start getting over someone who I was never with but have been finding it really hard to get over. It's ALWAYS the ones you don't expect... Should I just let it die. This thing we've tried I poured myself into you I tried so hard. And you could be the medicine to my pain But you can't I thought maybe I could be your love And I can't I thought it would work. But it's not. I don't think you're not ready. I think that it's just me. And you. We don't quite fit. But maaaaaaaaaaaan seeing you with another will kill me, I'll be so jealous, Because I think you will try, But you wouldn't with me. I think you'll love her But you couldn't love me. Why is the timing always wrong? My ex? Your Uni? Your Baby?!?!?! It's not meant to happen. It's just not. I thought it would work. I thought one day I would be your love And I can't And you would medicate my pain But you can't I did try hard I poured myself into you. But this thing we've tried We should just let it die. Nsoromma...Child of the Heavens
3 out of the 4 members of this blog graduated with BAs in the last couple of weeks and an MA is expected to be gained by September. Hey, we're not just pretty faces! However, after 3 (or 4) years of stress and wishing you were doing anything else apart from this "stupid" degree, once you get to walk across that stage as they call your name, I'm only left with one question: Now What? The world is supposed to be our playground but some people are determined to make that playground consist of only a swingset. One of us (who shall remain nameless) was told "well done. Now it's either marriage or your masters. Whichever comes first is up to you"! Woooooooow. Talk about not being able to enjoy the moment. I personally want to do my masters next year but I was having trouble deciding what courses to think about applying for when my mother insisted an MBA was the only way to go. This is all regardless of the fact that I've never once expressed any kind of interest in business administration and my degree is in English Lit. and Linguistics! Look I wouldn't mind being rich just like the next person but I'd rather be happy and it's clear where my passion lies and an MBA is definitely not it!
Another one of our esteemed writing team was also told to get her masters as soon as possible because otherwise she would be "wasting her years". This was to a 22 year old btw. It's also important to remember that all this "advice" came from people without degrees themselves. What is it that makes it so tempting for so-called "uncles", "aunties", and the like to make you a vessel for their unfulfilled dreams? We're in an economic recession and it's depressing enough to think that you're never gonna get a job without the pressure to incur even more debt doing a degree you have no interest in. Yes I know that everybody and their mum has a degree(s) these days but damn, can we get even a few weeks to enjoy it before reality kicks in? It isn't too much to ask it it?
hahahahahaha! I went to Dubai at the beginning of June to y'kno let off some of that exam steam! And while there our wonderful hotel organised trips and excursions everyday, to the beach in the morning, and 'shopping' in the afternoons. 'Wow' we thought, 'all those famous luxury Dubai malls, you know the ones with ski slopes inside and 5 star (freezing cold) cinemas...' we couldn't wait. So Monday rolls around and instead of naming the place we would be going shopping, all we were told is " yes, its very good place, nice, discount shopping yes good place!" Hmmm, I don't know about anyone else but I was envisaging a mixture of Primark and Poundland, boy what i got was a mixture of Deptford Market, an 'English for foreign learners' class and a bin!
I'm not actually joking when we got there people from our hotel were backing away from the lurid green shopfront where we were greeted by a massive poster saying " RUB-A-DUB DUB CLEAN YOUR TOTS IN THE TUB " accompanied by a Rubberduckzilla monstrosity, weird! And it just got weirder, rows and rows of terribly-made cheap clothes next to prams next to packets of crisps, and the whole while a bearded man following you round the nighties trying to make you take a trolley.
After our initial bout of nausea and convulsions, we decided to look around and thank God we did. You know when you go to other countries you find some strange engrish emblazoned across tee-shirts etc, these were the worst i have ever seen! Once in Martinique I did see a top that said 'Music looks at me PHARD' huh? what?
Anyway, back to Nine Town (as this Oasis in the Emirate Desert was called) the tops ranged from the depressing - a top with a 20 line poem about holding your dog's paw when the time comes to put him down- to the spiritual -incomplete inaccurate lyrics from a Hillsongs song- to the retro- a beautiful piece with I ROCK RUFF AND STUFF WITH THE AFRO PUFF across it- Yes yes Lady of Rage!
Eurgh! the shop was disgusting, afterwards we were thrown into a tro-tro (van/minibus) with about 25 Iranians who found our dark skin and our English extremely funny, horrific, one of them was making a video of us! Lord have mercy!
Not a minute too soon we were returned to our hotel where we wept with shock and relief, it was over, Nine Town was over. Oh and did I forget to mention the Iranians bags were bulging with tat from Nine Town, yuck!
This is a little something I wrote back as an undergrad on a particularly fantabulous day... I just reread it and it soooo applies today too! So here you go...Being Me... I'm learning to follow my own advice, Learning to just be me. I'm not doing what everyone says, I just wanna be free! Today, I feel so fabulous, Having a wonderful day, The sun is shining and birds are chirping, Feeling good in every possible way! Yesterday I had an epiphany, The Lord opened my eyes. I learnt not to be so obsessed With the who's, what's, where's and why's. Just let everything flow, What's meant to be will be. Never suppress that inner glow, It'll all go right, you'll see! xXx Be happy people, Nsoromma...Child of The Heavens
So I haven't written a blog post in a while and I was complaining to Afrocentric that I felt like I had nothing to say lately. Then, for some reason, I realised "hold up"! I'm always complaining (or "passionate" as some people call it) about something. I realised there have been two things that have repeatedly put my back up in the last few years and this is one of them. Yes people, I'm talking about skin bleaching. Interestingly enough, just as I was formulating this post, I noticed that the BBC website had just posted a story on this very problem and it had rocketed to the top of their "most sent" article column . Clearly this is an issue by which many of us are concerned.
Growing up, I was never really conscious of skin colour until I progressed further and further up the educational ladder. When my sister, who is eleven years younger than me, was born I remember a great hoopla being made over her beauty. Now don't get me wrong, Sankofa Jr. is gorgeous but I noticed certain terminology was always used to describe her. "Oh Sankofa Jr. is so pretty and fair!" "Sankofa Jr. has such lovely and bright skin". You see where I'm going with this right? However, the older Sankofa Jr. got the darker in tone she became and a move to the ATL only expedited the issue. I remember showing a recent picture of her to a certain family friend who exclaimed "Oh no! She has gotten sooooo dark! Have you not been keeping her out of the sun?" She had to get a big 
Since when did black Africans become so obsessed with skin colour? If I had a pound for every time I, or a friend, has been slyly given skin "brightening" creams or been told that we're pretty even though we're dark skinned.... Let's just say that I'd be making an appearance in Forbes. I am well aware that there is a difference in attempting to even complexion and straight up "Casper-ification" but some people need a big fat SIT DOWN! Hey, fine with me if you want to destroy the protective melanin God gave us. Or if you wish to expose your skin to hydroquinone (C6H602 for all you science buffs) of which the long term effects include premature ageing, blotchy, collagen- damaged skin, and skin cancer (yes black people can get skin cancer). Skin bleaching creams also contain mercury and trust me it's in a far more potent form than the type in a thermometer. Mercury, as pregnant women will know, can lead to kidney and liver failure in addition to leaving blue pigmentation in the folds of the skin, not to mention that these products are illegal in the United Kingdom. Now let me ask you, when you think of a beautiful woman do these images come to mind? Don't even get it twisted, it's not an exclusively African disease. Skin bleaching creams are prevalent in Caribbean countries and Asian countries also. In my opinion, the world is going mad. You've got white people going mad with the tanning and black people embracing the Casper effect hard. Sorry to be insufferably cheesy but whatever happened to loving ourselves? God gave me my skin colour for a reason and for that reason alone I'm gonna love it till the day I die.
Also, if you're so determined to bleach, why attempt to hide it? You ain't slick. I am sure all of you have encountered the phenomenon I named this post after. The "fanta face, coca-cola body" woman. Don't come and tell me you don't bleach when your knuckles and feet look like you've been grazing in charcoal but your face is more orange than the "You know when you've been tangoed" man. Come on!
Truthfully speaking, thinking about this issue made me think about the other side of the coin. Remember when we were in school and the light-skinned boy and girl were automatically the most popular people in your class? (St. James' holla! lol) Yeah just admit we were all on light-skinned boys until Moris Chestnut, Tyrese, and the ilk came along and put them out of fashion. I've happily said that light-skinned men are not my cup of tea as I've grown up. However, I have seen men straight up ROASTED for preferring light-skinned black women over their more melanin- endowed counterparts. Now where's the difference? Yes from today, I am really trying to stop that foolishness. It's a free country, just as I have my preferences, why should I lambast somebody for also having their preferences? But preferences are just that- preferences. If a man I like prefers lighter-skinned women does that mean I need to chemically alter my skin to better fit his preferences? Hell no! Come on people, if this does not apply to you, urge your mums, your aunties, (hell, your uncles too) to put the bleaching creams down. Our skin is beautiful in the myriad shades it comes in. Let's celebrate this.
