Freetown Chronicles: Questions for the Nation-Womb

The womb huh? The force it is. Life producer, carrier of sacred knowledge, destroyer. The womb. The woman. Simone de Beauvoir may find a lot of my writing quite, well for a lack of better words that will lead me to use some text book academic jargon, hetero-normative. I find my own writing these days to be highly so, I won’t place blame, it simply derives from the society I find myself in. This post is going to be short. 

FREEOTWN CHRONICLES IV: BARBIEs AND WHAT IFs

Friday was ushered in with fake eye lashes, human hair which continues to irritate me and a fantastic dress by Maryzo Designs that had me emanating the “come hither” look. It was purposeful. The Barbie doll look is one I SOMETIMES aspire to, yes I use the word ASPIRE….one can have such aspirations and I believe it is quite O-KAY. However, I digress, MAJORLY.  This Easter weekend was a heap of fun, looked like the only thing I and my friends and team were up to was fun, but I/we were hard at work, and as usual, there are some moments that stuck with me, MAJORLY.

FREETOWN CHRONICLES: THE FUNERAL - A WEEKEND IN MAKENI

This is what i know for sure, death regardless at what age for those closest to the deceased, is always a tremendously difficult experience. I also know that no one else can understand or truly partake in the grieving process. If one is in the public eye however, the space to fully feel the range of emotions that comes with loss is not always given much less authentically understood despite the outpour of sympathy and support of well wishers.  Last week, Sierra-Leone seemed to come to a halt as the President and his family mourned the loss of their mother, grandmother and matriarch of the family. The rest of the nation seemed to mourn too. I personally am often desensitised to realities of loss, suffering, pain, death, and all expressions and experiences of grief, it takes a while for anything to sink into my body. So as the rest of the Country got quite loud about the passing of Mrs. Alice Koroma, I simply watched, and at times in complete amazement at the frenzy.

FREETOWN CHRONICLES: YOUTH VS. STATE

........i run into a couple of friends at a resto-bar in town. One of my favourite private spots in the always colourful 'downtown'  city of Freetown. It is raining outside and i am talking about relationships with a friend of mine who has recently engaged his girlfriend of 2 years. His happiness and easiness makes me uneasy, i smirk at his smile, he remains gentle with me and makes another order of roast beef. Amidst our chatter we start talking to a group of people sitting beside our table. Our discussion moves from bumming a smoke to one of politics, youth mobilizatation, development and the mentalities of a younger generation of Sierra-Leoneans. We laugh some more and begin to enjoy each other's  company.

Freetown Chronicles II: Lust & Love.

A friend gave me an advice when I first arrived to Freetown. His deep set eyes looked into mine as he quite sternly said, “don’t date for at least 6 months, trust me, you need that time to see who is who and what is what.” Of course as it often goes with advice that we know stems from wisdom unbeknown to us, it went right out the window. What that meant was, 6 months later found me in the folds of my cousin’s arms, sobbing or been rather dramatic about some man who had ever so dramatically broken my “heart”. “I really thought we connected,” I relayed to my cousin in a matter of fact manner. My cousin sympathetic but rather unmoved if not bored altogether, simple patted my back and said, “na so den tan na ya”. I have heard this phrase one to often “na so den tan na ya”, this is how they are. One, according to many women I speak with, cannot trust any (been the men of Sierra-Leone) of them; therefore go in protecting yourself, fully. I am still attempting to grapple with that ideology, because what on earth is the point of it all then?  Is the deceit, misrepresentation, gross and continuous dishonesty simply a Sierra-Leonean Phenomenon? Is it an African thing? or is it a universal pandemic only manifested differently based on context. Do African men truly operate differently?

Freetown Chronicles I: I'm Coming Home

Why do we come back home? After the first mandatory difficult year one will endure once they return home, i am making a trip down memory lane in attempts to consolidate some interesting conversations i've had over the year.  One that always finds itself into many conversations when your accent has a semblance of difference is:  why do we return, from where do we return, and for how long is the return back home?  For some, its a choice. A conscious decision to want to, desire to, need to come home and give back, rejuvenate, be re-inspired, build a foundation, start a business, or one short lovely holiday is enough to choose to make home a home permanenatly. For others, its not a choice its due to family issues, deportation, exhaustion, lack of opportunities out 'there', depression and other types of pressures. The lucky few who make trips in and out of the country, existing in between two worlds and happen to find the balance satisfying, say its a blessing.  For others, home will have to be home for a very long time.