Circumspecte

Time check 6.34pm in Accra, Ghana. Pretty much every one of my colleagues has left for home and I sit here, somewhat immobile. It feels weird. I'm not paralyzed or anything of the sort, I just paused from work for a moment and realized how weird it feels to be sitting still and not necessarily doing anything. Even if it's just for a moment. There's a bevy of activity right outside, and the long march of Accra's evening traffic which I am not looking forward to in the least bit. And yet, here I (still) sit. While the traffic builds and the darkness grows, and most likely, the clouds gather. When did stillness get so uncomfortable? Like there's always something one should be doing, saying, thinking... I went to Cape Coast with some classmates over the Republic Day holiday weekend, and it's funny how the silence and space (emptiness) which I disliked during my high school days were exactly what drew me to the Central region. Space, nature, time (unchecked). Sig...

When it's this quiet, you know someone or some thing is up to no good.  Plotting and scheming and devising plans anew, all for the amusement of what it/they can do to you. It's like an airplane ride.  You get on, make yourself comfortable, listen to the safety instructions – or not - and let your thoughts wonder far beyond the height of clouds upon which you ride. The pilot's voice comes onto the PA system; introduces him/herself as well as his co-fate holders.  You hear it, but you don't really listen, because if anyone ever asked you anew, you'd never even be able to recollect the first letter of his/her first name. And so you begin. Some turbulence here, a couple of cumuli nimbus clouds there, wait is that a bird or a plane gliding next to me? No sir, simply your imagination running wild upon the pasture of sky. Doze in, doze out, icky airplane food, yet you gobble it all down. And the musings. Oh my, those musings. Such injustice they do to the very pl...

I'm tempted to agree with those who say that silence is the language of the soul, because words are not enough. I'm sitting on my bed, mac on lap, tryna think up the best way to express what I'm feeling right this moment, but I can't find the words. They don't do the feeling any justice. After a little hide and seek with the moon, Ramadan finally came upon those of us in Senegal. Others in France, Saudi Arabia and Ghana started yesterday, but we got another day to "prepare". But tell me, can you ever adequately prepare for Ramadan? Each year, it's the same, but slightly different. For me the consistency has been a calmness of mind, heart and soul that I can only call peace. I can't explain it fully, but over the past couple of years, my entire system kicks into auto-gear with the arrival of Ramadan and I just trust. Yes, there are still hopes, there are still fears, but over that month, it doesn't matter. Maybe its because of the heavenly pre...