Circumspecte

We danced. For months on end. The tango, the waltz, even salsa'd it up Amidst the swirling shadows, intoxicated by tune Daylight? T'was always the dark we craved Grinding against each other - wanting, denying, no sleeping tonight Heavy breaths in sync, bass tempo till light Staring. Breathing the other in.  Intimate, strange. Enveloped, conspiring; tearing the other apart. Remedy to the madness, but poisonous at touch Pure and utter insanity, the reasons to exile. Yet come night fall, we dance it up again. Deeper into the dungeon, velvety curtains drawn apart. Deadly passion, intoxicating yearning. Scratch marks the evidence of struggle. Copulate, then dilacerate. Copulate, then dilacerate. Pure and utter insanity, deeper into the dungeon we go. Nooks and crannies, monsters under the bed. The questions. The shadows. Therein all dwell. The darkness hath come and conspire with it we shall We dance. Over and over again. A mis...

Grand plans. That’s what we had. Of where we’d end up, how we’d end up, when we’d end up. I mean, we said “let’s leave it to Allah, let’s wait and see”. But really, the levers in our mind had long clanked away. Breaking news: I will never be Ghanaian, African [insert whatever label] enough. Trust me, I have tried. To hold on to the vestiges of who I think - we think - I should be To reformulate the   Ghanaianness   in me  Down to the last ei, o, and more recently, the last tweaa I mean, how can you possibly not know how to Azonto It was the fad. Now it’s vintage.  Encoded in our identical histories. Yet it seems you missed that particular memo. “Too American”, “Too White”, “Too Outspoken”, “Too Different” Yeah I know.   You make me aware of the fact daily. With every “It’s not how we do things”, Each “why can’t you be like…” But see - we traded all those possibilities in. The minute I checked in, went throu...

Source: Komla Dumor's Facebook Page "There's so much more to tell about Africa than the usual stories about war, famine and disease." Komla Dumor. Son, husband, father, Ghana's "Boss Player", Africa's storyteller, BBC World News broadcaster, inspiration - courage personified. If anyone had told me that Komla Dumor's Black Star would burst out into eternity on January 18, 2014, I would have called them a liar and then some. His 41 years of life might seem "short" to many of us, but from all indications, this amazing soul found it more than enough for doing what he set out to do: to be a journalist of the highest order and to contribute towards telling Africa's stories. His awards, accolades and  accomplishments  are well recorded - perhaps more so after his untimely demise yesterday from a cardiac arrest in London - and numerous people are sharing their condolences and tributes on social media with variations of the hash...

Nelson Rolihlahla Mandela. The man who best embodies the ideals and principles we cherish; the ideals and principles worth pursuing. Passion. Courage. Perseverance. Forgiveness. Conviction. Love. Humility. Purpose. Faith. Vision. The list is endless. What a soul. He was from us, but not of us. Unlike many, he understood the changing tides of life, the stark contradictions which easily elude us. He was a leader in the truest sense of the word; he sacrificed his personal ambitions for the good of his nation, his people. There are almost no words to capture the essence of this man; his work; his symbol; his legacy. Mandela's very being speaks for itself. "In him, we saw so much of ourselves," South African president Jacob Zuma said during his statement on Mandela's passing. I would add, in him, we see so much of who we could be . And that it especially true for us Africans, for societies where the concept of leadership, human rights, freedom is still a mi...

For the past two or so days I have been trying to recollect 2012. To remember what happened. I know there were highs and lows, but for some reason those peaks and valleys weren't as defined as those of latter years. How could I live through 2012 but not remember it in great detail? Did it really fly by that fast? Well. You know how you try to untangle a knot and it takes that one string to have everything tumbling forth? That happened this evening. Exactly a year ago today I sat in an apartment in Bologna, Italy with my Italian and Russian friends as we waited for 2012 to roll in. Over a dish of shrimp rice and plantain and beans we shared our thoughts on how 2011 had gone as well as our hopes for 2012. But that's not all. We took it a step further, each writing on separate sheets what we would "leave behind" in 2011 and what we would "birth" into 2012. Tonight we're not together. My Russian friend is recovering from cancer in Chicago, my Italian f...