Thursday, 22 November 2012

little village girl.

Little village girl.
She plays with the boys and goes for Sunday service with her grandmother, wearing her oversized frock, shiny black shoes and white socks with the pink flowers sewn to the sides..
She doesn't know who she is; she's never wondered. She's never cared.
She's too young to know that there are questions she must ask.
On weekdays, school is a nuisance so she and her friends skip classes to go play by the rubbish heaps
She loves her world, it's all she knows.
At lunch, she goes to buy rice and stew with the coin her grandmother gave her. "Don't give me meat," she says.
She'd rather have more rice.
Weekends are fun. See, on weekends she gets to cook with her grandmother,
she loves palmnut soup.
On weekends she gets to go to the farm with her grandmother
She loves her grandmother.
The farm is far, far, far away, hours from home, but they make the trek.
Nature is wonderful, she catches grasshoppers and helps to sow seeds in the land they tilled the week before.
Now it's lunch time, she roasts some yam on an open fire and goes to drink water from a stream
It's a beautiful life.
Or is it?
A storm breaks out, it's time to head home.
Grandmother and granddaughter, each with a stack of firewood on her head,
One in front of the other, leading the way home,
Far, far, far away.
The wind is getting stronger, it's serious now.
The rain pelts down, drenching grandmother and the little girl.
A large tree falls down, it was a close call.
It's not so beautiful any more.

Fast Forward

They get home safely,
only to discover that the rain invited itself in.
Everything is ruined, soaking wet. The entire house is flooded.
Oh no.
As neighbours gather to lend helping hands,
Grandmother takes her little girl by the hand and walks her to their neighbour's house.
She says, "you're sleeping here till this is all sorted out."
Little girl nods.
That first night she sleeps on the floor with one other girl and three boys, the neighbour's children.
It is certainly not the Ritz, but it's dry. And warm.
It's been a long day and she's tired; she's nodding off.
But he won't let her, that boy. The oldest son,
He won't let her sleep.
He pulls her close and pulls up her dress.
She's confused, why is he doing this to her?
She tries to get up, he pulls her back down.
She's 5 years old, she's scared. Terrified.
Are the others dead? No one seems to be waking up.
Why aren't they waking up?
He pushes her panties down, she tries to stop him.
He pushes them down anyway,
And then....
And then he ruins her.
With his finger, he ruins her.
Hurts her.
She's not a little girl any more.
Something has died.
He killed it.

Friday, 27 April 2012


Things started to spiral out of control long before 2006, but until then I had been able to find some level ground. From that year though, nothing seemed to work out.

My parents got divorced. My mother disowned me. I started university.

My mother disowned me. Wow.

But that’s not what this post is about. I’ll tell you that story another time…..maybe.

I started university.

Freedom? Yes please.  My whole life, my parents had kept me indoors; no parties, no public vacation classes, no going to a friend’s house just to hang out. “Read”, they said. “We’re protecting you.” The only act of rebellion I managed was breaking my virginity. My dad tried to put him in jail. Another story I might tell you…or not.


That’s what this post is about, heartbreak. Of anyone else, my parents have broken my heart the most, but again, this post is not about them. It’s about a boy. Man, I loved that boy and I don’t even know why. He wasn’t particularly funny or exceptionally brilliant but I loved him anyway.
You can act all tough like you don’t care about love but you’re not fooling anyone. When that person tells you they don’t feel the same way anymore, by god, you will be hurt. You will cry, you will fume, you will over-think things.

It broke me. It broke me. It broke me. I can’t stress that enough.
 It broke me.

To this day, it surprises me just how low I got, I was all the way down. I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t sleep, I couldn’t stand people being around me. I’d go to the kitchen to get some juice and end up spending hours on the kitchen floor, crying. I avoided the TV and the radio; what if a love song came on?

Why was it so difficult to deal with it? I mean, my own mother had left me, you would think that that little detail would make this other thing less significant, but no.

 For one I wasn’t expecting it, at all. It was such a slap in the face that I felt dazed. It was difficult to believe. Two, I loved him, I had put my trust in him, fully and without hesitation. Three, there was someone new in the picture.

I had been replaced even before I had been dumped! The things that bit of news did to my self esteem, wow, just wow!! Wasn’t I good enough? Wasn’t I pretty enough? Smart enough? Funny enough? Sexy enough? It didn’t help that the girl he left me for was a family friend. Somebody say K.O.

Knocked the fuck out.

I questioned myself so much that it got to that point where I started blaming myself. If I had done things this way or that, maybe he’d still be with me. If I had been better….

I lost so much weight I had to buy new clothes. Every time I saw him with her I died a million times inside. If it’s possible to lose an appetite that you haven’t had in over 3 months, I lost it. I cried so much that I made my friends cry too.

I forgot how to smile.

What do you do when the one person who cuts you the deepest is the only person who can make you smile?

I looked forward to days he’d come and see me. I prayed for them even.  Was I pathetic? Yes, very.
He had broken my heart but I still managed to love him with every broken, jagged piece.

Fast forward.

He came back.

 It was too late, I didn’t want him.

It’s a funny thing, life.

Sunday, 18 March 2012

Jesus Freaks R' Us?

Happy New Year guys!

Have an open mind for this post.

Religion is such a touchy subject. People tend to get really defensive
when you talk about their beliefs negatively. I won't say I get mad,
but I will admit not being pleased when someone once said something
awful about the things I believe in.

What's your religion? I'm a Christian. I won't lie, I'm probably a
Christian ONLY BECAUSE my parents are Christians. They did the whole
baptism thingy, then I got confirmed after months of boring classes.
The highlight of my Confirmation was the party they had for me. Aren't
I just awful? Shouldn't I have been ecstatic that I was finally a full
child of God or whatever it is that is symbolic of a Confirmation?

I have an ex-boyfriend who's Muslim. We had a few conversations about
his religion and mine. Thing is, he used to go to church, and he
believed, then he began to study Islam. Well that's what he said. I'm
sure he just read a coupla (verses??) In the Quran and thought he had
it all figured out. Well anyway, he decided he'd opt for the
religion that requires you to pray 7 times a day in a particular
direction. That's all well and good.

His argument was he knew about both religions and had chosen the one
that made more sense to him. I didn't have a reason. I was simply born
a Christian. My only knowledge of Islam is from JSS, during Religious
and Moral Education, where half the time, my mind was a million miles
away. Oh wait, except for that one time where the teacher pissed his
pants. I couldn't miss that.

Now is it just me or are Catholics really short-tempered when you
question their practises? I didn't know anything about them till I got
to St Roses (cassava anyone? -_-). Maaaaan. I thought they were the
weirdest bunch of people ever! We had specific prayers for everything.
At three particular moments every day, we had to stand still like
robots and recite the Angelus. I really didn't see the point. And when
Pope John Paul died? My kness still haven't recovered from the number
of times we had to kneel down and get back up again.

Like any other person, I had my questions. There were times they'd put
a veil on the statue of Mary, then we'd go around the school [holding
candles] reciting some type of prayers, if my memory serves me right.
As usual, I tried to use that time to crack jokes. The knock I got
from a Nun wiped the stupid grin from my face. Those people are really
sneaky :|

Sooooooo, I'm not trying to be controversial or anything but another
thing I don't get about Catholics is why Priests stay bum-sexing alter
boys. Like, that's the ultimate sin in my book. Sodomizing +
Fornicating? Whooooooo!!! you're a very bad boy! Some Catholics will
deny this. If that helps you sleep at night, then by all means, deny
away. I know pastors and leaders of other types of denominations get
up to some sinful i-know-im-going-straight-to-hell typa stuff, but
those almost always end up in the newspapers!!!

I watched this documentary on Crime & Investigation where they talked
about the Catholic church and how it just let's Priests get away with
crimes. If you're homophobic and you want someone to blame, blame
Priests who sodomize little boys! I bet that's how a whole bunch of
them became gay- my opinion -_-. But yeah, instead of the Priest
paying for his actions, he's shipped off to some other place where
there are fresh buttocks to partake of.

'The Da Vinci Code' and 'Angels and Demons' do Catholics no justice.
Lol never try watching those with one. Big mistake. They get angry at
every scene!

Ever been at home or in your hostel room, and people come a-knocking,
wanting to talk to you about God and how much He loves you? I avoid
these people as much as possible. It's my point of view that the load
of these 'Jesus Freaks' are the most hypocritical of people out there.
I know this pastor who'd have things to do with different girls, and
whenever there was a crusade or an all-night service, he'd go with the
only he had recently fornicated with. LOL obi a soma wo? Tsk tsk.

I've grown up with so many different types of people around me. My
childhood bestfriend is now atheist and I've had so many people tell
me "I don't know about religion anymore. I have too many doubts and
too many questions, so I'd rather not have a religion"- I understand

What's your religion? Do you believe in everything you've been told
and taught? Do you have any doubts? What makes you think that YOUR
religion is the right religion? IS THERE a 'right religion'? Do you
think that maybe religion is so popular because of our natural need to
be guided, to be forgiven or to be loved? Religion provides a sense of
belongingness, a safety net.

I'm at that point where I'm deeply confused. Religious people are
gonna tell you "you just have no faith". I can bet my last knickers on
the fact that a bunch of you are judging me. Wait, isn't that a sin
though? Now you have to pray for forgiveness. And the cycle continues

Religion is just complicated.

Here are a few quotes by some famous people:

Faith means not wanting to know what is true. — Friedrich Nietzsche

The fact that a believer is happier than a skeptic is no more to the
point than the fact that a drunken man is happier than a sober one. —
George Bernard Shaw

All thinking men are atheists. — Ernest Hemingway

Do you agree with any of these? Are you struggling in your faith? I
am, and I'm not afraid to say so.

Sent from my mobile device