Kismet

This thing they call destiny, fate…whatever do you believe in can be interwoven? People born of different races, creed, background can come together in the future and their fates meet each other. At first one does not know where it is heading, but if one sits back and watch, one will see how it unfolds.

It is with heavy heart I announce the death of my cousin's baby father. Those who follow my blog ardently will know her story. I still haven't heard from her, her mum is hiding away from the family but from a reliable source came the news this morning that he was shot dead right in front of his home by a gang of armed robbers. I am a very sad girl today even though the guy and I did not get on he certainly had something remarkable about him and I am sure my cousin saw even more beyond that.

Where does fate come into this you ask? Well my cousin grew up in America and she had a brother who got into gangs there. He was a rapper and belonged to the West side then he got caught up in the whole Tupac Biggie brouhaha and was shot dead a few months after Tupac died too. Those who know how these gangsters operate would know that it was not just Tupac who died during that time that so many other underground and unknown rappers died too. Sadly he was one of them. He was shot by a drive by shooting in front of a supermarket. He was the only son my aunt had, he was never married neither did he have a child. So really my cousin was the only child that remained for my aunt and it was not before long before she started to misbehave too which culminated in her having a child out of wedlock and for a guy who was well you know what. It is wrong to speak ill of the dead.

As naïve teenagers then, we persuaded my cousin to terminate the pregnancy but words filtered through to her mum and when she got wind of it she made her keep the baby. Thank God for that because now that my cousin is no where to be found, and her brother died years ago, that boy remains the only solace for my aunt. See where fate comes in? Or maybe I'm just trying to see something good out of a pretty bad situation. Now to the baby father who just died, he misbehaved for a long time and was almost cast out by his family. He terrorised a lot of people and it was rumoured that he was involved in cultism and even robbed people sometimes. Fate caught up with him somehow and now he's six feet under but that seed that he planted a few years ago is still here. His son will now be the source of joy both to his parents and to my aunt. I pray that he grows up to be all they wanted his father to be and even more. Deaths in Texas and Lagos, a child born illegitimately, but becomes a beacon of hope for the future. Kismet!

Life is strange, this world baffles me but when things happen and we have no explanation someone supreme knows it all and it is that being we should take everything to. That being is called so many names and I call that being my God, the light that shines my path and sees me forth to a good end.

RIP to the dead ones!

My Cousin (Part 1)

I promised I was going to do this, even though I really don't feel like anymore. So here's me trying to make good my promise.

How do I start to talk about the life of a girl born the same year as me but in different locations? While I was born in a tiny hospital in my home town she was born in a massive one in Houston, Texas where her dad had been a Pharmacist. Truth is I didn't know she existed until I was in my teens by which time she had been living with her mum in Lagos for some years. I moved in with them shortly after my secondary education while I was waiting to get into higher institution. She became the sister I never had and opened my eyes to Lagos life. You see I had never lived in Lagos before then. I was more of a tomboy having grown up with boys but she showed me the ropes of being feminine - Make-up, dresses, skirts and different hair do.

We had a few things in common like music and dancing but despite her size, she trounced me easily on the dance floor. Yes, Spice as I would call her was really big, she still had that American gene in her. She was not strikingly beautiful but she had all the curves in the right places. The rest of us in contrast were petite and somehow she felt that was the ideal size she ought to be, hence she suffered great self esteem which was to cause her several heart aches later.

You see Spice liked to eat and her mum absolutely spoiled her. It was in their house I first tasted American staples such as Kidney Beans, Aunt Jemima's maple syrup and Jif peanut better which till today has remained my favourite. Every time I visit the States I come back with Jif peanuts, standard! So even though Spice didn't like her figure, she continued to eat and eat and eat and ballooned and ballooned and ballooned. While the rest of us had plenty of male admirers, they were thin on her own side because of her sheer size. Picture a skinny pimpled face 19 year old bloke trying to ask out a woman that looks like she could be in her mid 20s. Definitely no go.

Things that happened the months following my moving in with them was to change that sister bonding we had and as you can all guess it’s a MAN!. She had been telling me about a bloke in church that she really liked but the bloke never looked her side. One Sunday we went to church and I went to the loo when my eyes beheld the most beautiful man I had ever seen. Our eyes locked and I smiled shyly at him and he coyly at me, then we went our separate ways. My heart was beating so fast and I coudn't wait to tell Spice about the guy that had taken my breath away. Finally after the church service, I had my chance to spill but as I was about to open my mouth she tapped me animatedly and said 'parakeet parakeet look at that guy, he's the one I've been talking to you about'. I raised up my head and I just froze. 'This cant be happening, not the same guy I've been shadowing', I thought. My heart instantly sank but I just smiled wryly and I said 'not to worry we'll do something about it'.

I picked up courage and walked up to him and his friends, he saw me from afar and I couldn’t help but notice the twinkle in his eyes while he was grinning from ear to ear and whispering something to his friends. I got to him with shaky legs and I said 'hey am parakeet my cousin over there likes you, can you come over and talk to her?' He looked at me amused but still smiling and said 'but I like you not your cousin so what do we do about that?'. Without thinking I told him not to worry and asked him for his number and left. I went back to my cousin and just simply told her he said he was busy with his friends. I mean how was I suppose to tell her that I was after the same man she had been agonising and now it looks like I have him. Who has more claim to him? She that saw him first or me whom he likes and I just happen to like him too?

This post of fast becoming my longest post ever so I'll stop here…will continue next week but am still looking for my cousin.

Have a great week all.

Drought

I cant believe I'm barely 3 months in blogville and I'm already experiencing drought of words. I give it to y'all who've kept faithfully to it...seriously I doff my hat. I dont know what brought on the drought, if its my recent challenges or simply that I dont have writing as innate as I would love to believe. Whichever the reason, I've got an even better reason to put up this post, YOU ALL. Blogville is really a wonderful place to be and thanks to all those who checked up on me...I love you all.

So where do I start? Of all places to think about slavery, I chose the bathroom to do it this morning. If am not wrong, October is black history month in the UK which inadvertently includes a reference to the slave trade. So why the hell was I thinking about the slave trade in June with lather all over my body? Well it must have been the Monday morning blues as I was trying to convince myself that slavery is not over yet. Its got to be slavery if I have to wake up at 6:30 am to go and push the pennies doing what I hate and what I don't wanna do. I tried to compare the slavery 200 years ago to now. Now, one deliberately subjects oneself to slavery while 200 years ago people were forced into it. 

Perhaps I got depressed that I will no longer have the pleasure to catch city boy's 'squaremile' gossip column any more as he quit for a better life. Well City boy is an investment banker. He makes shit load money and as we talk he has £3million in bank...that's just a million shy of what the company I used to work for had in bank. His slavery paid off big time. He worked graveyard hours, doing hideous tasks while having to kiss asses of clients he really hated their guts. To show his disgust, he wrote his article every week in the London paper breaking banking codes and exposing well kept secrets of city workers. We his avid readers pitied him and at the same time envied him. Well city boy packed it all in last week after he made sure his fattest bonus ever had been banked. Now I really wish I had that kind of a choice. 

While I was depressingly having my shower, my life flashed in front of me and I just didnt like the fact that I was going to that job. I know y'all will be like this parakeet sef, she whinges too much but welcome to the life of a 26 year old London gurl who still lives at home. Candidly, I thought extensively about the slave trade and the monotony that has become the life of many and I just wondered what the way out was. Not content, I linked the slave trade to nuclear power and the dominance of the West in world politics and the simple question I asked was, if at the time the west invaded africa and saw how helpless our forefathers were and instead of helping them, took them for slaves, how are we to trust that if the continued to advance on the nuclear power production, there wont be a repetition of the slave trade albeit in different ways? Are we to trust that where their fore-fathers were lacking in conscience that the new generation will have in abundance. Did I hear someone say food for thought? 

Well I moved on from there and got angry at our forefathers, why didnt they fight? Why did they just subject themselves to these people? Surely it is better to die once a valiant than die nine times a coward. But then I was like what do I know? As if I was there to be really sure and again I discovered that most of the things I know today of the slave trade were written by foreigner or shall I say scholars in the West. My history, written by someone else? How am I suppose to know the real truth behind the black race, of their struggles and there triumphs and it seemed to me like I have been cast into an abyss...I mean who knew that stories like that of the Great Debaters existed before Oprah and Denzel came together to tell it? I cant recollect where my trail of thoughts stopped but I marvel at my mind. Gosh, how did I manage to think of so much in the 15 minutes it takes to have my bath?

Anyways all said and done, I had a good day even though I had a slow start too the day. I have been happier these past few days as well, as I have learnt not to commit things to heart too much. I think that is what drags me down and am glad I've come out on top of it now.  Meanwhile am looking for my cousin...I will introduce her in my next post.

Have a good week everyone and keep smiling.