I wanna hear a poem...

One of my all time favourite poems. This was at the height of my 'Def Poetry' obsession and the line 

'I wanna hear a poem where ideas kiss similes so deeply that metaphors get jealous'

kills me every time. Hope you enjoy it too... 

You have such a pretty face...

I don't really know why I'm choosing to blog about this topic but it's something that has steadily pressing on my soul for at least five years now. Haha I guess there's my reason right there! Growing up I never really thought of myself as pretty. Don't get it twisted I didn't think I was ugly either, just not "pretty". I was always described as the smart one but never the pretty one. This was the way it was all the way through primary school and most of secondary school too. I put on a lot of weight when I was about 11 or 12 and that weight hasn't ever come off. I think I've just learnt to live with and truthfully it's not something I think about  everyday. It's not as as if I never received any male attention either. Truthfully the only requirements to get chirpsed in London (especially by our beloved persistent Nigerian men) is to possess a vagina, so I didn't really "count" them if you catch my drift. However, in my late teens, when I first went to uni in America, I began to receive a different kind of male attention. More genuine shall we say. I mean guys would tell me they thought I was pretty or whatever and even though I knew that was what they believed, I still didn't quite believe them. Then I began to be accused of being arrogant and some kind of faker. I still remember one of the first guys I ever hooked up with in the states (let's call him Kojo) telling me I was pretty in an almost insulting way. When I expressed surprise, he said to me "Why are you fishing for compliments? You know you're pretty" with a mildly disgusted look on his face. "Excuse me but I don't know anything" was what was going through my mind.


Because of the whole weight thing, I'd always felt I had to play my role as the smiley, clever one and not step on any of the "fly girls"'s toes. However, I guess with the progression of age comes a burgeoning sense of maturity. I knew from a reasonably young age that I couldn't stand insecure people. I went to a boarding school, which meant that living in such close proximity for an extended period of time with other teenage girls was a recipe for disaster. Of all the girls in my year, I know for a fact that only one other girl apart from myself was above a UK size 12/14 with the majority being 6s and 8s- I kid you not. Still we endlessly had the daily script played out for us with the whole "Oh my God I feel so faaaaaat. Look at my belly!" as a shiny toothed girl flaunted her washboard abs at you, lower lip pushed out in an oh-so-charming pout. Yes we had our share of bulimics galore. I would get so bored (still do) of people talking about their various body hang ups all the time. Seriously, for a school that was supposed to consist of some of the elite minds of the country conversations rarely ventured beyond boys, clothes, the latest "cool" band and drugs (rich people with too much time on their hands). Forgive us for we were but children hehe! I guess my point is I began to find people complaining about their bodies the most irritating thing  and I vowed NEVER to whine about my body issues. I still believe that moaning about something is only going to draw attention to it. Plus it's boring.
 I basically began to fake confidence and in the course of this charade, a genuine sense of confidence somehow emerged. I'd always tell myself "you may be fat, but at least you're not ugly" (ugly is a very strong word imho).



Now going back to my experience as a late teen in the states. Whilst I didn't think I was ugly, I wasn't exactly used to hearing guys telling me I pretty either. So this was a pretty steep learning curve for me. I always thought the way I dressed was what got me so much attention (basically not letting the Midwestern winters reduce me to a pair of eyes hidden in a bomber jacket, hat that covered 3/4 of my face, and boots that made it hard to lift your leg, let alone walk- what can I say? I'm vain!). However, as my confidence grew, so occured the exponential growth of people (particularly females) telling me I had a pretty face. Now WTF was that supposed to mean? So devoid of all my extremities and my torso I could be considered an aesthetically pleasing member of society? I guess I should thank God that I have my face to save me from utter irrelevance eh? ;-) My own mother even tells me this on a regular basis, in addition to "you're lucky you're tall or you'd seem even fatter than you are". Rarely do I ever hear "you're pretty Sankofa". It's always "Sankofa, you have a pretty face". I know it may seem a strange thing to complain about for those of you not familiar with this phenomenon bit it's so unbelievably jarring! It only gets more so when you get it with the "you're big but pretty" line. First of all, I'm not big, I'm what most would consider fat. Let's just tell it like it is and quit with all the euphemisms. I'm not one of those fatties that blames everyone and their mama for being the way they are. I got fat because I ate too much when I was younger and now I'm just too lazy to get the weight off. End of. Fullstop. Finis. We'll save that story for another day.


Now let's fast forward a few years to  just a year ago and a so-called "friend" (now former friend, thank God). This chick and I used to go raving together a few times and she also loved to have house parties. She's an average-looking chick with a pretty nice figure who thinks that her big behind alone entitles her to receive the attention of any guy she fancies. Now we were at one of these house parties and I'd been steadily getting dagger-eyes all night beacause I'd spent the majority of the party talking to a guy (let's call him Francois) who I'd been flirting with for months who she also happened to like. Now, in my head, flirting with Francois was no biggie because 1. It's not as if he was expressing great interest in her and I stole him or whatever and 2. Francois is a huuuuge male slut and is therefore everybody's first choice to flirt with (added emphasis on the flirt). So I'm getting tired of the"looks" so when I get a chance alone with her I ask her if she's cool. She feigns complete innocence as to what I'm talking about but then as she is reapplying her make-up, she casually comments that she's always wondered how I always have so many guys interested in me since I'm so fat and all. My neck snap would have done the chick from the exorcist proud. You'd be proud to know that I didn't say any of the vile things that were going through my mind and eventually, just as nonchalantly, said "Oh you know. Guys like different types of girls and it's not as if I'm ugly". I think I can pinpoint the exact moment in time when our "friendship" began to die lol.


To make matter more interesting, at this same party some chick who I'd peeped watching me at various times during the night decides to approach me a few minutes later and says "Please don't think I'm weird but I think you're really really pretty." I mumble some embarrassed, shocked, thanks in her direction and she hits me with the kicker. "Not being rude, but you know you're quite big, yet you carry yourself so well". Ah, knew there had to be more coming!


I've just always felt that just because I was fatter than all my friends, it didn't mean I had to look worse. Yes I still rock my skinnies, my harems, my jeggings (or treggings as some of you call them). I just make sure it suits (and fits) my body because we all know there's nothing worse than a size 20 squeezed into some size 16s. Hey give me a pair of SPANX and I'm good to go! We all know that I'm already disadvantaged in this western world due to the mere fact that I'm a woman, and a black woman at that. Yes  I may be fat, but going around feeling embarrassed for it will only be one more strike against me. For that alone I can happily walk with my head held high. Confidence is the great eraser for it disguises a multitude of flaws. Still is that reason enough to be reduced to a mere face? I guess the whole point of this convoluted (and long) post is do you feel I'm justified in my annoyance? Am I just being a sore taker-of-compliments? I feel like about this issue the same way I feel about the "you're so pretty even though you're dark-skinned" line. True stories, I've had those statements as well, but we'll also save that for another time.I've always wondered if I was making too much of this issue and I want to know what you guys think. Go on, hit me with your best shot. I'm a big girl, I can take it! (pun intended....)


Currently listening to: Fire Alie- Chipmunk

You fit into me

You fit into me
like a hook into an eye

a fish hook
an open eye

Margaret Atwood, Power Politics, 1971

Where are you from?

Where are you from? Seems like a simple question right? However, when I was growing up this was the question I most dreaded. I was born in our wonderful country of Ghana (Koforidua represent!) and left for London when I was 7, almost 8. In those first years in England I still felt as Ghanaian as ever, being raised in a Ghanaian household and all. Even in the face of all the 'African booty scratcher' and 'Go climb a tree taunts' in primary school, I never wavered in my loyalty to Ghana. (Can't say the same for all those who pretended to be Jamaican, strong African accent and all!) However, after a few years I began to feel slightly different. I didn't feel British, per se, but most definitely a LONDONER. I still do. Love or hate London, it stays with you. It's in the blood man. Going to a boarding school just outside London only strengthened this bond for me. I've lost count of the so-called dentist and optician appointments I used as a means of escape to be with my London man dem. Still, I resolutely considered myself a Ghanaian even when I got the oh-so-irritating "Where are you from originally?" questions.

Then I moved to the States when I was 18 for about 3 years and here's where all hell broke loose! The Ghanaians I met there insisted I was not really Ghanaian and made it abundantly clear that I would always be considered an outsider. Sidebar: I wonder if these same people feel any less Ghanaian now that they have been living in the States for 7+ years? Anyway, I also had random Americans insisting I was British because I had a 'British' accent and a British passport. I eventually grew tired of correcting people that I had a London accent and there was no such thing as a 'British' accent and I was still Ghanaian, as my British passport clearly reminded my everyday by stating that I was born in Koforidua. I soon figured I was fighting a losing battle and merely gritted my teeth when yet another person deigned to tell me what I was. I moved back to London eventually and then had to contend with insistations that I had become Americanised! This girl couldn't win for trying! What makes this even more depressing is that each of my 3 siblings was born in a different country- Ghana, the U.K. and the U.S.A respectively. The youngest two, who were born in the U.K. and the U.S. don't consider themselves in any way Ghanaian! To add insult to injury, my youngest brother calls it "Africa" and states the only "African" food he'll eat is jollof. It's enough to drive me to drink. Now that I'm seriously trying to get my act together and go to Ghana for an extended period, I've been wondering how I'll be received. So here's a question for you guys, how do you answer the question 'where are you from'? Do you go by where you live? Your passport? Where your parents are from? etc. I still maintain that I am 100% a Ghanaian Londoner no matter what you tell me. So there!


Currently listening to:Koforidua Flowers-Kofi B. ft. Ofori Amponsah


Picture above was sent to me so source unknown. Let me know if you own it so I can credit you!

Cheaters never prosper?

I read something today that really pissed me off and has even left me somewhat depressed. I was reading a popular African blogger's site and the topic of the day was a famous Nigerian actress who had recently divorced her husband on the grounds of infidelity. This blogger basically expressed the view that infidelity alone was not grounds for divorce. She asserted that as long as the husband expressed his regret and did not flaunt his affair/s in your face, then it was advisable to stay in the marriage; especially if you had invested time and/ or children in the union. Am I wrong in thinking that this is the reason why there is so much infidelity in Ghanaian marriages? I know that this was in regards to a Nigerian marriage but I've met many Ghanaians who also seem to share this sentiment and this makes me in equal measure angry and sad.

I know marriage is no joke and to walk out of a marriage would mean there was no solution to the problems in the marriage but how can people not see cheating as a "good enough" reason to leave a marriage? Aren't relationships based on trust? If I can't trust you to be faithful to me after we have pledged to spend our lives together how can I trust you in anything at all?

"Physical infidelity is the
signal, the notice given,
that all fidelities are undermined." - Katherine Anne Porte

This quotation pretty much sums up the point I'm trying to make. I have quite a few guy friends and I think this has given me some kind of insight into the way guys think. If we women allow them to get away with anything, they will continue to do it! We provide some men with so many ready-made excuses when we say things like "oh that's how men are" etc. I know for a fact that some women struggle with fidelity just as much as men are purported to but women are held to a much harsher standard than men. I'm not even talking about a mere boyfriend/ girlfriend thing here but MARRIAGE. If you don't believe you can be faithful to the person you claim to want to spend the rest of your life with, then why put them through this humiliation and heartache. Don't marry them! I am so tired of seeing so many Ghanaian marriages around me become infested with the disease of infidelity and the expectation that women are to look the other way. I think what pissed me off most about the blogger's post was her view that as long as the infidelity was not flaunted in your face, then it was cool to stay in the marriage. What?! Whether or not it's being flaunted in my face, the very real danger of somebody infecting me with some kind of STD concerns me. If you don't respect me enough to care about my health (both physical and emotional) how does you not flaunting your affairs in my face help me? I know I'm ranting but I really wish some women will let go of the "men will be men" argument. A real man sticks to his word and a real woman will not allow herself to be humiliated in such a manner. There are good men out there (I know several) and I believe that it's up to us women to destroy the belief that as long as we're well-taken care of in all other aspects, we will put up with a little bit of infidelity here and there. I love myself far too much to adhere to this, quite frankly insulting, notion. What do you think? Am I fighting a lost cause?

Currently listening to:All this love I'm giving- Gwen McRae