When finally the tribulations of a 21st century bachelor are brought to the classroom for study, the world will be shocked.
The plight of an African child is huge. Research has evidence. But when you add this to the fact that the child is a bachelor living in an era where fathers have become capitalists with little yam to bequeath their sons, you start having an idea the turbulence tides the boy child has to cut to float. Take it from me boy child, you are alone in this world.
There are nights when, for lack of better things to do, I find myself dreaming of peaceful and welcoming streets in this damnation of ours. I dream of spectacular sunsets and warm night breezes and nights where I can see the beauty of the moon and stars in the sky. Sometimes in those dreams I am a towering creature with giant rolls of eyes that rotate over my head and see everything, and an authority which dwellers of this forsakenness revere with all might. Sometimes I am a dwarf, a nobody, but caught in the assurance that I am home and home is good. My soul hovers around assured that as long it is not peeing, dreaming is good. And in this good I see the good of our place.
Yet the city remains what it was in 1496: an untidy, noisy jungle with concrete heights where hearts should have stood. Continue reading “Bound”
We are in the house for the evening. She is helping with the dishes while I burn something to eat. Today is unusually cold and quiet. The outsider would say it is because it is a Sunday and people have retired this early to rest their bodies so they can report to their masters tomorrow in good time. It is the wrong side of the year to be fired because of arriving at work late. And with the depreciating coin and escalating living costs, the #1 thing you need to secure more than life and women is a job. But that is not the reason it is all quiet.Continue reading “Hessy wa Kayole”