If viruses could light up

 

If viruses could light up, bright up like the 4th of July or a proud peackock or the Northern sky,

Over my humble home, i would then use my linen and lime and wipe it off like a stain on the wall or the spill on the floor.

Those pesky things, hiding in plain site, without hands yet they write a history I refuse to be mine. 

Why do I have to die to the rythm of the living dead, with no eyes to even pretend to tell lies?

Stay where you are, don't come home with me, coz I will light you up, bright like my fathers light.

Then there is no hope for you.

O.T.O

Fela Kuti - Observation is no crime lyrics

 

Whenever I get frustrated and confused at the on goings on the political front, I like to put on some Fela Kuti. I don't know a lot about his life nor agree with some of his ideas and lifestyle, but my dad enjoyed his music with some of them highlighting our attitudes and behaviors in different areas of life such as politics, wealth and education. 

I decided to check out one of his albums on YouTube and came across the album Zombie. I love singing along and decided to fill in the blanks of some of the lyrics for Observation is no crime that auto generation could not find the words for... here is my version, corrections are welcome.

Nah oil na dey carry, da oil na dey on top
Sansa man no come spoil na oil (na oil ne dey carry)
Sansa man no come spoil na oil (na oil ne dey carry)
Tell me, tell me my brother (Tell me, tell me) Why not?
Tell me, tell me if not (Tell me, tell me) Why not?
Tell me, tell me if not (Tell me, tell me)
Tell me why I go get eye, I a no go see (Tell me, tell me)

Tell me why I go get to nose, I know the smell (Tell me, tell me)
Tell me why I go get ear I no go hear (Tell me, tell me)
Tell me why I go get your mouth a no go tok (Tell me, tell me)
Tell me why I go get  ear an I go hmm (Tell me, tell me)
Tell me why I go get your heart an I go home (Tell me, tell me)
Aha
I no be mogul my brother
Na mogul dem dey beat
Na mogul dem dey cheat
Na mogul dem dey dabgaruwa dollar, dollar yegba (Tell me, tell me)
I get the hand to fight if I want fight (Tell me, tell me)

I get the leg to run if I want run (Tell me, tell me)

Well dey take the eye to see oppression every day (For left, for right, for up and down)
Well dey take the nose to smell anomalities everywhere (Around, around, around, around)
Well dey take the ear to hear corruption every day (For left, for right, for up and down)
We go take the mouth to talk the things we see, hear and smell (Around, around, around, around)
As for my me and my home I go put them for reserve
When they lock me for cell, I want and dey shout
To say observation may no be crime now (Tell me, tell me)
(Tell me, tell me)
Na oil na dey on top (Tell me, tell me) 
Na oil na dey carry 
Sansa man no come spoil na oil (na oil ne dey carry)

Tell me, tell me my brother (Tell me, tell me)
Tell me, tell me (Tell me, tell me)
Ah!
Chchchchchch Ah!

(Tell me, tell me)
(Tell me, tell me)
(Tell me, tell me)
(Tell me, tell me)
(Tell me, tell me)
(Tell me, tell me)
(Tell me, tell me)
(Tell me, tell me)
(Tell me, tell me)
(Tell me, tell me)
(Tell me, tell me)
(Tell me, tell me)
(Tell me, tell me)
(Tell me, tell me)
(Tell me, tell me)
One, two, three

Any suggestions always welcome

The road - a thought process

The weather was like a child tossing and turning, neither finding it comfortable to be sunny side up or face down all dark, so it ended up shifting side to side, between the shades of grey and the rays of sun.

It wasn’t overcast, neither was it clear blue skies. It was a promise of hope. Something to depend on outside myself to help me look forward.

Still I felt crushed. Why raise my hope when it is left vulnerable to disappointment? It is like a bright sunny day giving the opportunity to play, but you can only watch, almost touching, almost feeling but never actually there.

Shall I pray for Grace, or for God to take me out of this place? Shall I pray for an escape out of this chaotic mess, asked to be raised for me to bless?

Now, the rain came down, hard and fast and I too shifted; I do not know what I want. A cloudy rainy day to drown all my sorrows or a sunny day with hope in its rays to dry my disappointments.

I need to get home

 and let pen connect to paper, 

words connect to sentences 

and melodies connect to songs.

Is it wrong to ask for space that will not put you in disgrace?

Space from poverty all dressed up in whites and fancy lace with

Pain and all things blind holding with its strong embrace?

When did satisfaction and contentment equal lazy,

Simply watching life and dreams get hazy?

I no longer know what I want, pretending life is rosy and daisy. 

The perfect disguise for a life with no surprise. 

The world held my case, all rise, found me guilty, all rise, the case is lost. 

But I’m not a lost cause, this road is not a shortcut, 

My case has been handed to a higher court with a right hand clause.

Now caught between two whole,

Not making it heaven, nor stopping it from being hell. 

Best pick, lest the road be filled with holes. 

O.T.O

The natural hair lie…and it ain’t that deep. How to really grow long 4c hair.

I arrived in the UK from West Africa Nigeria, with a short tight afro and thrown into the world of straight, loose curls and relaxed hair. And of course, I had to join the bandwagon! Bless my mother she would do anything for me, when it comes to hair and beauty (Love you mum! Happy Mother’s Day). So, we trudge to the beauty supply store to pick up a relaxer and we sat down to do the so-called dirty deed. I did not last for a year! It did not look how I wanted, it did not feel how I wanted, I was losing so much hair and I did not have any idea how to take care of it. I was starting to realise hair formed such a big part of a woman’s identity and I wanted to be more than my rubbish hair. So back to natural hair it was and to be honest it was perfect timing. My mum got busier with work and she had already taught me how to do braiding. I was only 14 and could wear my hair kind of crazy for a while with little judgement from the world.

But my hair growth progress was slow, it broke a lot, was dry and appeared to be thinning at times, despite multiple trims trying to keep it healthy. I started University in 2010 and before then the black hair/natural hair movement had started to gain traction in America, but as it gained popularity in the digital world, UK started to get on board. YouTube became my go to place for getting natural hair advice. It was a lot of learning about texture, porosity, protein, moisture balance and it was the first time I understood I had a mixture of hair textures, 4c and loose 4b with fine strands and thin hair to boot! Lucky me!

I kept on with the natural hair. When I started working full time, I discovered a blog on growing waist length hair and low and behold I saw someone who had relaxed hair like I did all those years ago and her hair was growing long with wigs. So, I started this journey also. My progress was slow frustrating and disheartening when I saw natural girls, I had watched on YouTube succumbing to the ‘creamy crack’. I was constantly limited by shedding and breakage (which I minimised by finger detangling) and the biggest issue SINGLE STRAND KNOTS. Which to this day I have no solutions for as I have tried almost everything? I even tried locking but never fully committed. After 4 years I revisited the blog that started the whole length journey and realised I missed a KEY detail. Our girl was TEXLAXED!!

I do not have to tell you what happened next. I started the search slowly as I could not fully commit. I felt I was turning back on identity, culture, the race struggle. Nevertheless, I continued looking for videos on how this was done and while some results absolutely terrified me, some results were surprisingly familiar…too familiar! In Gus’s voice from Recess, ‘Hey, those look awfully like those natural haired girls who could get their hair straight with little effort, with 4c hair hanging loose onto their shoulders!!!!!’ They were texlaxed! THEY WERE TEXLAXED Y’ALLL! And the really amusing thing is that texlaxing (when done right) appears to achieve similar growth rate as those with looser hair textures (unless you are genetically inclined to have long hair).

So, I have been stressed for the last 16 years to do the impossible and the last 10 years following advice on the internet when we may be starting from different baselines. In the same breath I was well pissed off, wanted to throw a massive rock but then decided to write this blog because life is too short and hair grows back, unless it can’t, and you have wigs and scarves! Thank God for those as well! Hair has so many meanings; it is part of how we show the world how we want to be addressed; it can be our identity. While the natural hair movement has been a useful tool to liberate people out of what may have appeared to be the only option, I think the digital world can sometimes only show us what we want to see, not always the truth. Using relaxer is not that deep. If you want to get political, cultural, religious…you can do so in the comments! As for me, whatever I do from this point on to my hair is for me!