•January 28, 2014 • Leave a Comment

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You have the most beautiful eyes; they light up with a smile,
They express the happiness and loveliness from within,
But your eyes never look at me, and that breaks my heart.

I see your arms and I want to drag you into me for a hug,
I want to be lifted in them, and feel forever cherished,
But your arms have never held me tight, that breaks my heart.

When I feel down and alone, I dream of your shoulders,
I wish I could cry and find the solace for my tears and pain,
But your shoulders aren’t for my comfort, that breaks my heart.

I should stop watching you walk, away from or towards me,
I think to myself, finally he’s coming for and to me, finally.
But your legs have never raced to me, that breaks my heart.

My heart skips a beat when I see you each morning,
I say to myself, this is it, he’s noticed how I feel,
But your heart doesn’t beat for me, that is heartbreaking.



•August 13, 2013 • Leave a Comment

If people you don’t know go out of their way to help you, that’s the hand of God in your life. – Jim Asuke –


I don’t think I’ll ever forget the call that came in on Saturday, July 27, 2013 at 6:14 and lasted for about 45 seconds. My dad had spent a very sleepless night trying to find a way to tell me that you had died. I guess he didn’t know how to tell it to me in person. He sounded so broken when he talked to me on the phone and I pray that with time he’ll find a way to accept that you are really gone from us.

My earliest memory of you has to be when I was 7 or 8 years. I had just come to live with you guys and I heard Mama tell you that you don’t own people. Apparently you had fought Ken and Georgie for rights over me and you had insisted that I was your girl. It was an interesting evening when Mama had to explain to you that girls need to sleep in a different bed from boys. The great thing about that first day in your home was that you claimed me, and I felt special and loved. I got to have the privilege of growing with 5 boys who treasured me.

Another memory I have of you is when Mama would ask me what kind of clothes I wanted and I would insist on shorts and sneakers but you would go to her behind my back and tell her to get me dresses and stockings and girly shoes. Considering what a tomboy I was, I would get so mad at you. Later you would tell me that being a girl isn’t a bad thing and that as your princess I have to dress like one. You always knew what to say to make me feel better.

There was a time growing up when I was really scared of Georgie and I always avoided him. I came to you and told you about it and you found a way for me to approach him. You told me to buy him a sweet and personally give it to him and he would smile and thank me. So I bought a sweet and gave it to him, but boy were you wrong. He didn’t smile and thank me. He started grilling me wanting to know where I got the money and why I was giving him a sweet. That experience frightened me but you insisted I keep trying to talk to him until I wasn’t so scared of him anymore. You should know, Georgie and I are cool, even though he refuses to sneak me into the States in his suitcase, how selfish of him.

I also remember a time when you would go visiting your friends and when it reached a certain time I was to come get you. I used to get mad because I hated leaving the house for any reason whatsoever. When I would come for you, you would keep me there with your friends for some time. Later I realized what you were trying to do. Those friends of yours had brothers and sisters my age and you were helping me make new friends. That was ingenious!

As I got older I thought we would lose our bond but it was always there, we still remained close. I’m not focusing on the fact that you’re gone, because the pain is horribly numbing. I know that you’re in heaven giving my angels a piece of your mind about them not focusing enough on my case. I loved you as much as a sister can love her brother and I try to believe that you are in a better place and that your time with us had come to an end. This is not goodbye but a see you later.


•February 14, 2013 • Leave a Comment

They say, whoever they are, that money can’t but love or happiness, but it sure can make misery a lot more comfortable. They were absolutely right. I need money. Even in my dreams, I always roll around in money. I should feel lousy about myself, but I bet if I had money, I could see a therapist who would justify my need for money.

It’s a Friday night. Normally I would be at home reading a really good book or out with friends trying to get our grooves on. Normally. I’m out here in the freezing cold waiting to get noticed. I’m standing in my own little corner trying not to incur the wrath of the veterans for having invaded their ‘turf’. I’ve never drank in my life but in life there are exceptions. I took a glass of vodka for some Dutch courage. I’m smoking cigarettes and trying to act like I’ve been doing this for a long time. ‘This’ being a whore/hooker/commercial sex worker. Or as I like to call it, a means to an end.

Like I said, I’m here because I need money. My boyfriend, that bastard, won’t give me a single cent. I loved him for free and I’m not even his mother. I satisfied his sexual needs on demand and I have nothing to show for it. I have the body of a model or a highly paid stripper, so he always felt great having me on his arm. And he still couldn’t afford to give me money!

If things keep going the way they are this may be my first and last day on the job. I mean how hard can it be to get a client, I’m oozing sex here! And just as I’m about to give up, a car slows down on my spot. I’m so excited that I’ve succeeded as a hooker and kind of scared. I mean, it’s easy to sleep with my man for money but a stranger is something else altogether. He rolls down the window and I try so hard not to puke. Sadly that was the beginning of a very long night.

Client 1

This dude should have stayed home. He was a blob of meat, and that is describing it mildly. I don’t know how he envisioned us sleeping together. He was breathing heavily and it looked like he would collapse just from the struggle to breath. I’m one skinny bitch, and days later I still had not come up with ways of actually having sex with the guy. How, where, what in heavens would I have done? I shake my head sadly letting him know it ain’t gonna happen. I may be desperate but I’ve got standards!

Client 2

This dude was my kind of freak. I was salivating just by looking at him. He had a whip, a leash, chains and to top it off, he was dressed in all black. I was so ready. He didn’t have to ask me twice, I was willing to attack him right there and then. He looks me up and down and points to the back. Grinning like an idiot I get ready to get into the car and I get the shock of my life. The fool was expecting me to have sex with his grandfather seated at the back! He looked like he was on life support and would die from any type of exertion. I may be freaky but dammit, I’ve got standards!

Client 3

This one made me realize that I should have stayed home. I love my body. It is a temple. I take amazingly good care of it. I ensure that it gets food constantly and garbed with the best clothes designed to show off my figure. Hey, I am not vain, just stating the honest truth. This dumb ass tells me of how he’s going to beat me up while having his way with me. That is what turns him on. The thought of my body, being disfigured in any way, sobered me up so fast. Let’s just say that just because I’m needy, does not mean I don’t have standards.

This led me to go home with a resolve in mind, if that idiot of a boyfriend doesn’t give me money, then I’m dumping his ass. There are several men clamoring for my attention, and I might just give one of them a chance. As long as they are financially loaded, I’ve got standards you know!

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•January 31, 2013 • Leave a Comment

A friend of mine was asked questions and was supposed to answer them then tag a blogger. She harassed me into this, so here I am. I am supposed to tag one but rules were meant to be broken.

1. I Admire … my maternal cousins. They taught me how to fight, how to relate to people and how to be loyal to family. You pick on one of us, you get the whole bunch and we fight dirty too.

2. I Am Not … a cheerful giver. I’ll lend you my books but before I do I’ll find any excuse not to. I always feel like nobody respects my books the way I do. You dog ear, tear or destroy my book in any way, I’ll make you hate yourself. Sticks and stones may break your bones but my words will break your spirit.

3. I Am … a very fast reader. I love reading, probably more than I love eating which is saying a lot.

4. I Believe … that there’s no excuse whatsoever for not taking a bath. Imagine taking a walk very early in the morning enjoying the fresh air before the rest of the country wakes up and as you breathe in you get suffocated by somebody’s sewer of armpits. To make matters worse the stench tends to choke. Not cool!

5. I celebrate … the fact that I can see. When I was a kid I couldn’t see properly, I used to blink 5 times a second. Life was miserable then. My cousins (thank God for them) taught me how to blink by making me close my eyes for some time then opening them and trying not to blink for a while. They did this every day and never gave up on me until I succeeded. Thanks to them I can now actually enjoy the sights before me. And read too.

6. I close … my eyes when I remember embarrassing things. I squeeze them shut as if that will make the memory disappear. I have no idea which of my ancestors I got that from. I’ve tried to stop but no luck. Sadly, that, the squeezing them shut, tends to happen in the most importune times.

7. I cry … when I watch movies and television. Strangely, I am an emotional viewer. I take things too seriously, entertainment things I mean.

8. I dance … when I’m alone in the house and the song I enjoy comes on. I shake my hips and booty like I’m being paid. Don’t let the secret out.

9. I enjoy … eating. There’s that feeling you get when food tastes as good as it should. Ecstatic I tell you.

10. I fear … slopes, slanting landscapes, uneven surfaces you name it. I have been known to cling to perfect strangers because I fear the bus will topple over with me in it. Irrational I know, but who cares what you think.

11. I hate … snakes. Those things will crawl into anything.

12. I have … very few friends and I cherish them. But I won’t share my plate of food with any of them, that’s sacrilege.

13. I hope … that I will always have the money to buy all the books that I love. It worries me that books are coming out faster than I can afford them. Richard Branson should give me one of his accounts.

14. I laugh … the most when I’m with my gal Esther. I always say it’s creepy how her brain totally gets mine. I’ll think of something and that crazy gal will be thinking it along with me. I feel blessed that I have a companion in my insane asylum.

15. I love … my family. This group of people teaches you how best to relate to other beings on earth. Any shortcomings in my interactions should also be blamed on them. I only take responsibility for the first 9 months of conception, after that family took over.

16. I need … new shoes. Apparently getting shoes my size is a nightmare so I tend to wear the same ones for a really long time and that is hell on my feet.

17. I never … understand how you can pick on someone who cannot defend themselves!

18. I rarely … leave the house without my ATM card. I know there’s nothing in my bank account, but who knows, anything could happen and I like to be ready when it does.

19. I return … the extra change that I’m given mistakenly. It kills me but I’m terrified of what my mother will do if I don’t.

20. I search … the internet constantly for information on the most random things. It usually shocks me when I type something weird on the search bar only to find that there’s someone out there who’s searched for it before!

21. I should … probably stop watching soap operas but that’s one addiction I don’t mind. How else would I know that Latino men are smoking hot!

22. I shut … out negative people and things. I am my own worst critic and I don’t need anyone else judging me. Plus people can’t even fit in my shoes, so I don’t understand how they will know what it’s like walking in them.

23. I sing … a lot when I’m alone. You’ll find me performing the songs in any crazy way I can. I’m damn good at it too.

24. I thank … God daily for the angel He gifted me with called my mother. Her love and loyalty is mine for life. How amazing is that!

25. I try … not to let my OCD get the best of me. I clean when I’m stressed, when I need to think and I tend to find order in the strangest of things. That’s how I cope.

26. I turn … constantly in my sleep. Which is weird because I always believed myself to be a peaceful sleeper. Hmmm.

27. I usually … read the first chapter of a book then the last chapter before I continue with the rest of the book. This helps me understand the book better. I consider that normal behaviour, if you don’t you need help.

28. I want … to have a library that will be the envy of all my friends. In my head, I have a floor to ceiling array of books. I should probably find a hobby that doesn’t involve books, huh?

29. I wash … my own clothes. My mother finds it alien that I won’t let anyone wash even a piece of garment for me. I believe that other people will not wash them as clean as I would or use the routine I would. I’ve been known to rewash the clothes after someone else cleaned them.

30. I wish … that people would stop constantly touching my hair. It grates on my nerves, not to mention making my hair dirty! Argh!

31. I wonder … if heaven’s got a ghetto. Do you think by now Tupac knows the answer to that question?

32. I write … because the little people in my head won’t leave me alone.


•January 31, 2013 • Leave a Comment

I am not a demanding person. Just like everyone else there are comforts that I cannot do without. Silence, being on top of the list. If you are seated next to me, never start up conversations with me. Leave me in peace. If you want to spend time with me and enjoy my company, never miss your cue to shut up. We’ll get along quite well if you remember that simple rule. So while traveling, I never get into buses with loud music. I always sit at the window side, because heaven knows, not everyone smells beautifully as I do. This ensures I get fresh air regardless.

Over the years I’ve had bad and worse experiences while traveling.

1. This one takes the crown. I live very far from civilization and getting home sometimes takes hours. I always end up sleeping on the bus. One time while sleeping I felt something incessantly press into my abdomen. The pressure was constant and getting to me. At first I thought it was the heaviness of the books I was carrying on my lap that were responsible. So I moved them a bit to relieve the pressure but still nothing happened. I opened my eyes to check what it was, and shock of my life, the idiot seated next to me was busy trying to unzip my trousers! What the hell? What the freaking hell?! And to make matters worse he acted like he wasn’t doing anything wrong. Seriously?!

2. Over the holidays one time, I decided to visit one of my close friends. I had promised her I would do it and had put it off for so long. Getting to her home was a full day’s journey. I had come prepared with drinks, ample snacks and a music player. When I wanted to sleep I would switch off the player. The passenger next to me asked me to let him listen to the music when I wasn’t and I agreed. Huge mistake. Since I agreed to let him have my music, he thought he had permission to assault me. He couldn’t seem to keep his hands to himself! Since the bus was full and I had nowhere else to move to, I decided to threaten the bastard. I told him that if he didn’t keep his hands to himself, I would start screaming at the top of my lungs that he was busy masturbating. That memory still cracks me up.

3. Being quite small and skinny, I always end up occupying less space on the bus seats. This makes people who are too round in their rotundness (borrowed from a skinny friend) insist on sitting next to me. They ALWAYS encroach on my space, squeezing me in as if they have more rights than I do. Whenever they’re seated and have settled so comfortably, then I collect myself and go find another skinny person to sit with. If I’m expected to pay the same fare, then I won’t suffer through the experience of sitting on a portion of the seat.

4. I don’t suffer kids gladly. If you decide to carry them along in any journey, ensure they behave and are seated on their own spaces. That goes for excess luggage too. People assume that since I leave a lot of space then that entitles them to it. Wrong! I like to get to where I want without being harassed along the way. Kids won’t settle down peacefully, they’ll insist on moving and touching things around them. Their parents tend to want to squeeze them into any available space. As usual, when I see them headed directly towards me, I excuse myself so gracefully. After all, they need all the space they can get.

I’m not demanding, really! I’m just misunderstood, swear.


•May 3, 2012 • 1 Comment

I thought it would be prudent of me to get to you with the right information because I don’t know who’s responsible, but someone has been getting to you with misinformation. It breaks my heart that you are choosing to follow what you’re being told without giving yourself or rather your brain to make its own choices.

I won’t tell you that you are beautiful just the way you are because the fact that you are standing in front of a mirror ready to apply make up means that you don’t believe it. Since your mind’s already been made up, here’s a bit of advice, do it well. Read articles, ask the experts, talk to friends who seem to know what they are doing. That way you get to know how well to apply the make up without you coming out looking like a clown. Know and understand what works for you and what doesn’t.

When you left the house, the skirt/dress was short. Between your home and your destination no miracle took place so whatever you wore is still the same size. It hasn’t increased, if anything somehow it shrunk. That’s my only explanation for you trying to pull your outfit down every five steps. Gal you were comfortable enough to leave the house in that outfit, stop acting indignant and/or embarrassed in public.

You seem to be alone in the world, no one to guide you so to speak, why else would you leave the house in pants that expose the crease on your behind? If I had a choice, seeing your underwear would be preferable. It’s just as disgusting but somehow it happens to be the lesser of two evils. Before you leave the house, bend and touch your toes, then try touching the waistline of your pants. If it exposes the crease, don’t leave the house wearing them. Same goes for short outfits, if you bend and feel fresh air in the nether region, don’t bother with them.

There’s a saying that don’t let your outfit write cheques your body can’t cash. There are idiots everywhere, regardless of what you are wearing, who’ll feel it’s their ‘right’ to fondle/ogle/attack you in public or private. Try to limit the amount of flesh they have access to. That way if you have to make an escape with torn garments, there’s still enough material left to make a dignified exit. It’s not the best advice but it’s better than your decision to leave the house half-naked!

One other thing, condoms! Always have them with you. You may be stupid enough to sleep with him to prove you ‘love’ him but at least be intelligent enough to protect yourself. Never leave your protection to him, in this be firm, your way or the highway, if you’re strong enough to take a stand that is.

Yours lovingly,


•December 7, 2011 • Leave a Comment

Today I had a nervous breakdown. For a few seconds, I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t move and mentally I was frozen. Those few seconds felt like a lifetime to me. I felt like I was reliving a nightmare with no way out. That is a feeling I hope to never feel again. I was in the house alone, the electrician was outside doing some work when he decided to come in and ask for something. I don’t know where the feeling came from, but suddenly I was so scared. I felt like he was about to attack me, and I felt so defenseless. My tongue got heavy, my throat constricted and my palms were sweaty. I realized there and then that I hadn’t really recovered from my ordeal.

When I was just a kid, I got raped by a family friend. Someone I trusted and sort of looked up to. Sometimes I feel like it was all a dream. That it never really happened. Then I remember how sick I was afterwards, and just like that, it all comes back to me. I wish I could forget it completely, get it erased from my mind so I don’t have to relive it. But at times when I’m unguarded the memories bombard me. I keep thinking that I am strong enough to deal with anything thrown my way, but that, that cripples me.

I try not to talk about it; in fact I avoid it whenever possible. A few years after the rape, I got molested by a man I was dating. My fragile self-esteem got shredded to pieces. I questioned everything I believed in. After that I withdrew into myself, I shut everyone out. For a while I literally stopped living. I realized later that he had infected me with a sexually transmitted disease. That woke up me like nothing ever did. When I was getting treatment and more tests to make sure I didn’t have anything worse, I decided to take charge of my life. I had a lot of time to think since I kept to mostly myself, and I came to the conclusion that my life had to count for something. I deserved so much better. I took time off and went away for a while. When I came back, I dumped the creep. I started motivating myself and telling myself how much better I was. I started believing in myself bit by bit.

The scars I have are not visible. They are deep within me where even I tend to avoid reaching into. Sometimes when the scars overwhelm me, I want to hurt myself. Not because I hate myself, but because they are too heavy a burden that I feel I should let them out. That maybe if I hurt myself on the outside then I would hopefully get over the pain on the inside. I have never really done anything to myself but I feel like I am slowly losing the battle.

I can’t talk about it, I feel like I don’t have enough words to describe how, what I am going through. My friends have only accessed a part of me. I feel like if I shared all of me, then I’d chase them away. For the few I let in, I tend to smother them because I am afraid that they might leave me if I don’t hold on tight enough. This has made me end up feeling lonelier than ever. And sometimes when I am smiling on the outside, I ask myself; will I ever smile on the inside?