Friday, September 15, 2017

Paprika and habanero...


It is weird the ways we are reminded of who we are. You can lose yourself for hours, days and then in a moment you know exactly who you are. That’s what a pot of stew can do to you. I cut the tomatoes, paprika, onions, habanero peppers and put them in the oven. My home was soon filled with the scent of the past and present. The meat boiled in curry and thyme, the aroma filling my soul and heart. Mixed and blended, the stew bubbled away on the stove. In the morning, there were containers to fill, containers to freeze, red stains to be wiped away and windows to be opened. You can’t get too far away from yourself if you can cook a pot of stew. The familiarity gives a certain kind of security, security in an identity often questioned by others. No, I don’t know if I am more black or white, more African or more European, more religious or more spiritual, more this or more that. I only know how I feel when I cook a pot of stew. That my ancestors, white and black, are nodding their heads with contentment, smiling at me, paprika and habanero, yes, that’s what I am.

Thursday, May 11, 2017

2017....10 years blogging (Ok, on and off blogging...still!)


Thank you all for sharing my life with me.

Thank you for friendships formed.

Love Always,

Waffy.

This is me!




Monday, September 5, 2016

Reflection.

Yesterday, I saw you
You stared back at me
An enemy and a friend
You have been so cruel to me
You let me down so many times
Bailing out at the last minute and leaving me to deal with the shit
But you are also the queen of second chances,
That’s what you called yourself
You picked me up so many times
Even though I wished many times you would let me drown
Sometimes I was sure you would
But at the last minute, in a non chalant way, you would drag me out again
Yet when I saw you stare back at me
It occurred to me that only you have been there
To think that you are me and I am you,
You mutherfucker.


Monday, May 23, 2016

Beyond all the things...

I woke up at three at night. Checked my door. It was locked.

I re arranged the pillows on my bed. Drank a glass of water.

I thought of listening to the radio, my good old trustworthy companion but I knew I would regret it in the morning when I have to go to work.

I smiled to myself. Is this old age? I am older.

I look at the note I have written in big letters, on the wall, starring at me.

"You are beautiful"

"Thank you" I say out loud, to myself.

I think of all the women across the world, in different states of misery.

I am okay.

Tomorrow is another day. 









Friday, May 20, 2016

Ordinary man...

I was ordinary just to you.

(Yeah, I am back to MIKA. How I have missed him so!)

Inspired.
Inspired.
Inspired.





Thursday, May 19, 2016

I'm hot on trains...

Believe or not, nobody ever tries to pick me up in bars, clubs, concerts, parties, etc. Never. Nobody even notices me but trains? I am hot like fire!

Guys stare at me, smile, the bolder ones try to chat me up, etc. And what is it I do on trains that make me so irresistible? Most times I am asleep because I am always very tired. If I am not asleep, I am reading a book or day dreaming.

So yesterday another guy tried to chat me up. Background: I have seen him a couple of times staring at me and once this made me so uncomfortable that I changed my seats. Another time, he came off the train before me and he kept looking back from time to time to see where I was. In my own dramatic mind, I decided he was a drug dealer and maybe because he has seen me so many times on the train he now suspects I am an undercover police following him(yes, that's the kind of shit my mind can come up with. He couldn't just be waiting for someone or as it now seems, waiting for me). Anyway, he kept looking back and in the end I decided to duck into a shop to avoid him and his eyes.

Then, yesterday.

I am sitting quietly in my corner, staring out the window when I see him enter the train. He comes in and at first passes by but then all of a sudden does a double take when he sees me. In my mind I am like "shit!!!"

"Hello" he says sitting opposite me.

"Hi" I reply

"I have seen you many times on this train. Do you live here?"

"No"

"My name is Charles, where are you from?"

(Oh Gosh! he wants to chat...this is gonna be a long ride)

"Nigeria. And you?"

"Mauritius" he replies

"Tu parles francais?"

"Qui!" and here, he rattles off in French.

"Yeah, I don't speak French, I just wanted to know if you do"

Now he is starring at me like I am crazy

"Why?" he asks

"Well, cos I heard you on the phone the other day and I thought you were Eritrean"

 Here, he goes into a very long monologue about his whole life. How he came here, he was once a refugee then he married, then he had a daughter, now he is divorced, hasn't been with a woman in four years, his ex and kid are now in France, bla bla bla bla.

I did not tell him anything about myself.

He kept on opening and closing his legs in rapid motions which was starting to make me nervous.

"Are you nervous?" I ask

"No I am not, its just a bad habit" he said.

Now his cheap perfume was beginning to suffocate me. Where do people buy this shit from? Lord Almighty!

Finally his stop arrived.

By this time I was getting irritated by the big pimple on his nose.

Thank you Jesus.

I slept off immediately. 






Thursday, March 3, 2016

2016 and this person I have become is super woman!





Yep, it finally happened.

I woke up one day and I was not depressed anymore.

I'd like to think that going to the gym almost everyday had a big part in this new me.Whoever thought I 'd be one of those people?

Yes, I sweat and lift shit and I feel totally alright.

I have been thinking of my blog, my writing...

Yeah, I don't mind writing here again. In fact, dear readers, I will give you regular updates of my life from now on. Not that anything exciting is happening at the moment, single gal, living in the big city, oh yeah, I got a new job! I now teach adults in the night, so I meet all kinds of people. Mostly rich housewives that need a bit of excitment in their lives so they have decided to learn a new language.

Most of my classes are all women. I have just one guy in one of my advanced classes. I also made friends with the Italian teacher who really has fucked up classes. She has a class made up of only family members! ha ha ha its fucking hilarious. Apparently, this family is going for holiday in Italy in the summer so they want to learn a bit of Italian. Yes, people do shit like that. They have money to go for holidays and extra money to even learn a bit of the language before they get there. Not like some of us that just arrive somewhere and trust google.

Which reminds me of my time in Berlin recently. Somebody told me there was a Nigerian restaurant in the city so I got my google map and found my way there. I will write about that nonsense on my next blog.

I am back!!!

Love,
waffy