Elements of an Affair

Inspired by my book, Notes a Negro. 

Last night I had a dream which when I woke up to pee I surmised as a day dream because it seemed so far-fetched and contrived more like my intentions being played out in a dream. Okay. This is what I remember from it. 

Met Barbie. Negro and Barbie were headed to Jos (of all places!) where he owns a place and they like to chill every now and then. Accidentally met both of them on their way there. She was nice to me and seemed, as suspected, rather ditzy. She invited me along and I kept looking over at him for a clue. In the end, his plan was that she's open to both of us i.e., Negro and I being together. She had read the Negro Chronicles and was fully aware of everything. Negro cornered me alone and said, "This is not a problem, this way we get to still be together." In about a years' time their marriage would be over anyway and since they didn't marry in church, it would just be over traditionally, and then we can be together, he asked that I play along. He kept patting me on the back, brushing against me, you know, finding an excuse to touch me. It. Was. Weird. 

As you can see, the dream is very contrived and somewhat self-indulgent. Somewhat like my secret wish or thoughts come to light, that this dreadful marriage thing of his is over in about a year and never gets finalized in court or church and we can somehow find a way to be together that doesn't hurt or embarrass anyone. Wasn't aware that I could dream up such contrived dreams...I thought they were mainly meant for daydreams. This wasn't a daydream though...because I was fully asleep and I don't remember parts of it. Maybe my heart was dreaming out loud about what it wanted. Either way, I can't remember the last time I had one of those contrived type dreams -- that seem to play out your hopes and desires. 

All in all, I feel very eerie. I'd like my love to keep me warm.

Is This How It Ends?

As I contemplated the hugely, HUGELY AND EXTREMELY DISAPPOINTING loss of my job (which I talk about in detail in My BH Story), I tried to summon some courage for myself. Some sense of focus. Some gumption. 

Some things don't make sense. And you even get more confused trying to make them make sense. The phrase, "Make It Make Sense" resonantly echoes in my head. As I sat and commiserated what I had done wrong, what I would do different, as I was driving to church this afternoon, Survivor, a song I hadn't heard for years played, and I remembered the lyrics to the part that I really liked: 

 "You thought that I'd Self Destruct, but I'm Still Here. Even in the years to come, still gone be here."

Then, I got to church and as they preached, the Priest said something that was profound, reminded me of one of my favorite scenes from the most unassuming movie, Speed, that often replays in my head, at times when I want to give up. After the near death experiences that Keanu and Sandra encountered in the bomb wired bus, he broke down when he heard that his police partner had been killed. That was their last attempt at escaping from the bus and with that shattered he just seemingly lost all hope. He threw a fit of frustration and gently whispered to Sandra in a defeated tone: 

We're gonna die.

And she softly replied:

"No, we're not. We've gone this far." 

So many times in my life, even before Nigeria, I've come to points where I've thought: "I'm not gonna make it." 

But I hear God resoundingly respond: You are. You've come this far. 

I thought about that a lot when I assessed where I am in my life. Where I thought I'd be. How to get to where I want to be. The pitfalls, cruelty and the challenges I faced this past couple of years and more so to come with this new obstacle. The housing drama, oh all the landlord and facility management drama, disrespecting a sista just because she's a single woman with very little money drama. This people here would think less of you once you don't have any of these qualities: Money or a Husband (if you're female). Men only have to have some small money and they're covered, revered and treated with a tremendous amount of respect. But women we have to go through hoops just to prove that we are decent people worthy of society's respect regardless of our lack of any of the qualities that this feeble minded society considers admirable. But every time I try to succumb into that heap of despair weighed down by society's influence over me, I try to utter:

We're not gonna fail, because, we've come this far. 

...And truly, there's no other way to go except to fall forward. 

Fall forward, we shall.

Monday Dinner Meetings

Every time I think about my life in Nigeria which has sadly become my reality, I sometimes read about my past, of what was once my reality and what a fun illuminating reality that was. Times it is hurtful and has been the root of most of my disdain and discontent, but it is inevitable. I had a life and it was explicitly different from what it is now. It was (I daresay) better. 

On one such occasions, I stumbled upon this post from a lady I used to see at events, launches and whatnots. A lady who was about my age, a Vegan who had spent the previous year before our chance meeting traveling Asia solo, backpacking. She had cause to speak of her travels at one of our meetings. She mentioned how she had had an accident on her bike and was laying on the side of the road, until someone found her and took her to a hospital. I just thought that was so brave. I had just returned from a solo trip to New York and Miami and that adventure paled in comparison to hers. 

So halfway into our event and her captivating narration, tired of the cheap wine, she invited me to her Monday dinner group with a group of friends. 

Every Monday, a group of friends get together to break bread at a different restaurant in town, sample a different type of cuisine - Vietnamese, Indian, Moroccan, Greek, you name it. She asked me to come along and how could I refuse, you know how I love to eat and after all that cheap wine I could use some good food. So I went and had a blast at this hole in the wall Vietnamese restaurant eating the freshest, tastiest Vietnamese food and laughing with her friends- who were so cool by the way for letting me crash their millennial pseudo-dinner party. They were a mix but mainly young professionals. Those that had traveled talked about their worldly travels delicately so as not to seem to brag. Those that hadn't talked about their love for food and international cuisine even if it were to be found locally. I enjoyed how refreshing it felt. To not be judged (as the only black person) or as the foreigner, I was actually welcomed since it meant I had actual worldly experience. The only issue was that the leader who often had to find a different restaurant every week got involved with work and with time, I was the one asking, "Are we still meeting? If so, where?" Then, the invites stopped. Or maybe I was cut off, who knows. All these happened before the advent of Social Media by the way, so he had to physically talk to certain restaurants and convince them to accommodate a group of 10 people or more, and if possible, offer discounts. Then, he would send out an email to everyone in the group advising them of the new location. Intense!!

I've often thought about introducing such a dinner group to Lagos. But the egos, man. How do we contain the egos? These are subtle glaring differences which I notice, miss, and remember fondly.

My life in Nigeria. Chapter 2020.

Welcome 2020

My New Years' wish for last decade (2010), still holds true for this one - 2020:


This year let's ask for some good news, let's stop and pray that one day good news would blow like the Santa Ana wind and just come whistling by us, and maybe, just maybe land in our laps. That's what I want this year. Good news to just land on my lap.

Chapter 2020

I remember
New Years Day 2010.
It was a quiet and happy one.
I was surrounded by family in Austin, TX.
My nephew was sad
We couldn't get to stay the entire week.
We arrived 3 days earlier.
We slept late.
I woke up early.
Went to Mass.
And they joined me soon after.
I remember that quite vividly.

Here I am.
2020.
A decade later.
Still not able to keep down a job.
Or a man.
By my lonesome.
Living in Nigeria.
Surrounded by stupidity.
And archaic technology, people and processes.
That's what my life is now.
This is my life now.

What is it about this life
We cannot seem to catch a break.
We pray. We work hard. If possible.
We would work. Harder.
But we cannot. Do not seem.
To catch a break.
It's so...discouraging.
Troubling.
Our void space is filled with despair.

Really wanted to have a chirpy,
Inspirational
Believe in yourself
And life's possibilities
Blog post to start off 2020.
Such a cool sounding name, isn't it?
The Year 2020.
I love the way it sounds.
Would never have imagined it would be marred
By my Unemployment
Yet again.

How do we get out of this?
This wheel
Keeps going round and round
Get some, lose some
Always on a search
This time I don't have either
Personal. Professional.
None.
But believe in yourself, kids.
Your fate may be different. 

...

Anita's version of a Haiku