Wednesday 30 November 2011

Confessions of an imperfect mother

I'd like to think of myself as a good mummy, certainly above average. If asked to score myself out of 10, I'd say 7.5 on most days and 8 on a good day. Yet since encountering the numerous modern day mummies on the school drop off, I can't help but wonder if my children might be a little short-changed by a far from perfect mum. I mean I cook, I read stories, I might even bake every once in a while with the help of my girl Ms Betty Crocker but domestic goddess I ain't. The thought of making bread from scratch makes me shudder - I mean all that needless kneading - what's the point? And when it comes to being enthusiastic about my children's efforts - I'll admit that there are only so many pictures of stick families I'm willing to post on my wall/fridge. I love my kids but my life does not revolve around them and I admit that in modern day terms, that makes me an imperfect mum.

It seems we live in the era of the super achieving mummy. The woman who's made motherhood her vocation and I don't mean in the sense of being a stay-at-home mum but rather in that her children are the centre of her universe. She will make it a point to attend every PTA, every rehearsal and will be the first to volunteer for the bake sale. She takes her role very seriously and is on duty 24 hours a day. While I admire the single-mindedness of these women I recognize that this could not possibly be my reality. Yes I adore my children and love spending time with them, but I also adore me and realise that I need to take time out for myself too... for my own sanity. The difficulty is finding the right balance and here is where the confession comes in.

I have been known to refuse a big running hug from my youngest because I just got my nails done. Yes I know how vain, but I feel I did my time when they were babies and I spent months smelling of regurgitated milk. Surely I can't still be expected to look like the same sleep-deprived hot mess five years later? Aside from the dedication to beautifying myself at their 'expense', I've also been known to guard my free time quite jealously. If this means locking myself in the bathroom for a long hot bath or missing the odd schoolmate birthday party then so be it. I get that we're expected to act as unpaid taxi drivers for our little angels but there are times when the birthday parties seem to happen constantly. Short of dedicating my weekends to shuttling them from one to the other, naughty mummy that I am, I opt out. Admittedly opting out requires a form of bribery usually in the form of an extended TV 'pass'. Yes, I know how shocking using television as a babysitter- what can I say other than that it works! Then there are times especially at the weekend when the dance/football/tae kwan do/art classes are over, the food shopping and cleaning have been done and the thought of cooking threatens to reduce me tears. At this moment I thank God for that creepy clown and his chicken nuggets and over-salted fries. If it's any consolation I do wipe the salt off and insist the kids wash down their genetically-modified meal with water instead of the more appealing fizzy options. Also the children see it as a treat even though I end up feeling slightly guilty that I wasn't organised enough to give them a wholesome meal.

Raising a child in the 21st century is whole different ball game to what our parents experienced. If our little super-achievers aren't mastering the violin while learning Cantonese, they're training to become the next Prima ballerina. I'm not sure whether society is to blame for this need that we all seem to have to raise children who don't seem to ever stop. It's no longer enough to have a child who does well at school and has one or two extra-curricular activities for fun. Our kids are encouraged to race ahead of their classmates, master several languages, instruments and be ace at numerous sporting activities. And this would be fine in itself but the 21st century mother has to facilitate this sprint to the top. I was told recently by my daughter's teacher that I should consider some playdates with classmates as part of her personal development. The words that entered my head but fortunately didn't leave my mouth were: "Doesn't she see enough of them already and why on earth are you trying to plan my spare time for me?"

It can all be rather exhausting at times so for now I think I'll stick with my shortcomings. I'm hoping my kids will continue to laugh when I get their bags, lunch, books even names mixed up and will still squeal with delight when I suggest a Saturday trip to McDonalds. When this changes then maybe I'll start reassessing my parenting skills, until then I'm going to continue enjoying my imperfect moments that allow me to be a little bit self-indulgent.

Sunday 2 October 2011

Has our generation dropped the baton?


There is a scene in Katori Hall's new play on broadway about Martin Luther King Jr which sees Angela Basset's character deliver a monologue to Samuel L Jackson's portrayal of the legendary Civil Rights activist. I cannot recall ever feeling so blown away by someone's delivery on stage nor have I ever been left feeling such sadness and elation by their words. The premise behind the scene 'the baton passes on' is the depiction of how the world has progressed since and because of Martin Luther King Jr's incredible work. In the end, The Mountaintop  left me pondering whether our generation who are the supposed leaders of today, the would-be grandchildren of Martin Luther King Jr. and Malcolm X, Nelson Mandela, Kwame Nkrumah, have in fact picked the baton from those great personalities of the 60s, 70s and 80s.

A week ago, Wangari Maathai, an incredible woman, environmentalist, women's rights activist and Nobel Peace prize winner died and as I read about the incredible work she'd done and found myself more and more in awe of this larger-than-life yet unbelievably humble personality, I couldn't help but feel that her kind are a dying breed. There seems to be a lack of the sense of urgency that people who became adults in the post independence era had. I would even go as far as to say we lack inspiration in today's world. Our call to action is linked to either commercialism or selfishness. We seem to be driven by a desire to better ourselves and our nuclear family  but not to sacrifice for the greater good. The media which we consume with reckless abandon teaches  us to focus less on the 'We' and more on the 'Me' likewise the 'new' religions reinforce this notion of self-centeredness where people are encouraged to pray for their own success which often times is translated to acquisition of money and the material goods they crave so much.

I've heard the argument many times that there is no longer a need for carrying on or passing on the baton; as though the work of these great men and women were done - some would say we've achieved what they wanted us to achieve. I beg to differ. There is as urgent a need for action as there ever was. While the struggle is no longer for Civil Rights for African-Americans, Self-determination for countries in Africa and the Caribbean, who can honestly argue that there is no longer suffering or injustice in our world. Can we honestly attest to every person having the basic human rights which we take for granted? Or that we are happy with those who govern us, whether democratically elected by us or hand-picked by some government sitting thousands of miles away and determining our country's future? Can we put our hands on hearts and say that we're doing a great job taking care of our planet? Are we really content with our lot in life or just overcome by apathy?

I recognise these are loaded questions and perhaps the picture I paint seems more gloomy than the reality you perceive. I oftentimes hear people talk about how much things have improved, how much more fortunate we are than our parents and this may be true for some of us but we represent but a small percentage of the earth's population. As long as the majority of the earth's population still struggles for access to basic things like food, education, for their freedom, there can't be any room for complacency. After call, should we not be our brothers' keepers?

I don't pretend to know the answer to so many of the problems we face today - like why Palestine is an occupied territory in the 21st century, why millions of Americans live below the poverty line, why sexual violence is still used as a tool of war against the unarmed and vulnerable, and children still denied the right to education or perhaps and most importantly why so few share so much wealth while so many go without. Nonetheless I think a debate is necessary and as urgent as it was in the 1960s or 70s, we need to recognise that unless those around us are comfortable and happy in themselves and well taken care of, our comfort zone remains extremely precarious. However small our action, it's important for us to pick up the baton for the sake of our children and grandchildren in an effort to create a better world where noone is left out. In the words of the late Wangari Maathai, we can all aim to be like the hummingbird.

Wednesday 17 August 2011

Black woman seeks white man for promotion of marriage among her race


Yes, I know the title of this post sounds absurd doesn't it but that's precisely what a black male author is suggesting in a recently published article in the Wall Street Journal entitled An interracial fix for black marriage. It was forwarded to me by a friend who happens to be black and also happens to be married to a white man. She and I have had this discussion about black women dating outside their race a number of times in particular following advice from her older African-American aunt who pronounced to us, then single black women in our late 20s that when it comes to most black men "they either gay or they in jail".

Now I agree with the core argument made by author, i.e. 'black women should not just limit themselves to black men' but unlike the author I don't believe this will in some way promote marriage within the black community, it's simply put - a numbers game. There are more 'available' black women than there are black men so unless you're willing to share....there just wont be enough to go around. I confess I've never been great at maths but it seems like a no-brainer to me.

Admittedly I haven't always held this view but as I've gotten older and I'd like to think wiser, I changed my tack regarding the dating game in part because I realised that relationships really do not have to be that complicated. I know a number of couples who on paper would seem incompatible because of their different cultural backgrounds but in reality end up having more in common with each other than with their so-called ideal match. Also what makes couples click is far less tangible than a country, ethnicity or a language; if it were simply about finding someone from the same culture as you surely there would be fewer divorces within specific communities. We could all marry the son of our parents' friends and be done with - same educational background, same cultural values etc etc....but ofcourse marriage isn't science. This is where again I disagree with the article's suggestion that black women would do better marrying someone who is as educated and as accomplished as them; in my humble opinion two high powered professionals do not a long-lasting and happy marriage guarantee ....but let's leave that for another discussion.

Back to the whole lack of eligible black men debate that we've heard all too often, It's important to also put this article into context, the statistics cited by the author are particular to the USA though I would concede that they are no doubt similar to those in the UK, however in Africa and I suspect the Caribbean, a successful and eligible black man is far from becoming an endangered species. In countries where black people are not a minority, the question of finding successful black men rarely arises because all the lawyers, doctors, accountants, bankers, politicians are black and I would dare to add, they outnumber the women. So it is a given that if you're educated, you will find a black man who is as, if not more educated than you. Granted if you live in the UK or the USA, this fact doesn't really help you much which is why I agree that as successful black women we should think outside the box but not only to date men from other races but to also date men from other walks of life. Personally I don't see why Love should come with a degree or a six figure salary and I'm sure we can all attest to knowing high-powered couples who look fantastic on paper but are as miserable as hell in real life. The values we should be promoting are mutual respect and love not his and hers mercs and sizeable investment portfolios.

All this being said, I have to add that I do sympathise with black women who find it hard to date outside their race because I think sometimes it's as simple as who you find physically attractive and many simply feel they are not attracted to white men. However I still think we should be careful of convincing ourselves of such absolutes because even though we think we're not attracted to the white men we see everyday, how many of us will turn down an offer from George Clooney or Robin Thicke or Matthew McConaughey or the gorgeous Jason Lewis? My theory is, if we can drool at the fine white men on our screens then surely that means we don't find all white men unattractive.

Last night I watched Something New with Sanaa Lathan who stars opposite some fine white man whose name I forget, and thought it dealt with some interesting questions regarding interracial relationships. In one scene Sanaa Lathan's character complains to her white boyfriend (the hot one) about not being able to talk to him about the pressures she faces as a black woman in a professional environment on a daily basis. She makes reference to the African-American expression 'black tax' which refers to black people having to work twice as hard in order to achieve the same thing as their white counterpart. Something which her boyfriend understandably had never heard of. Although glossed over, for me this raised an interesting issue that could have been further explored, i.e. how do our partners from different cultures deal with similar problems that are real for us but that they will never experience. But while issues of racism and discrimination are real for a number of people from minority groups, it need not be our daily mantra. Yes it may happen, and yes we will find ways to deal with it. If our partner, be he white, black or green is compassionate enough, he will lend an ear while we rant about the boss who double-checked our work simply because...or was quick to point out how 'well' we speak as though this were not expected. I also think that a lack of empathy can happen even within our own race. I have friends who are often frustrated with their husbands (from the same race) because they feel they just need someone to listen while they complain about discrimination issues at work or the supermarket or the kids' school. Yet for many of these men, every problem has to have a solution, this business of just talking for the sake of it, airing your grievances just doesn't make sense to them. As a result they are no more sympathetic to stories of perceived or real discrimination that we just want to 'discuss', than they would be if they were white.

So Mr. Ralph Richard Banks while I agree with your core proposition, i.e. black women please be open to dating outside your race, I don't agree it should be done for the 'Greater Good' unless ofcourse that greater good is You + A loving partner + A happy life.

Monday 11 July 2011

Is the jury really still out?

Can I just say in my defence that I've resisted weighing in on the case against Dominique Strauss Kahn for some weeks now. The reason for this was primarily because  there is no shortage of so-called factual accounts and opinion pieces on the matter. Everyone seems to be adding their two cents worth of what they think happened or didn't happen, and who they believe is credible etc etc. I feel as though it's all getting a little tired to use a popular expression. So forgive me for going back on my word but as the media backlash gets nastier with Le Monde deciding to publish a photo of DSK's accusatrice together with an account of a visit to her impoverished village, I can't help but express my opinion and outrage at what's being bandied about in the media, both American and French.

So we've all read theories from the claim that the whole affair is part of a rather cunning plan by DSK's political opponent, Nicolas Sarkozy to the stories of DSK's Accuser being a dishonest sex worker who lied on her asylum application and associated with a known drug dealer. It's been quite a 180degree turn from most of the press; the story started with a woman that was a devout muslim and became one of someone that could not be trusted because she had lied about her asylum application and made reference to her intention to benefit from DSK's wealth in a private conversation. To be fair though, the French media has been consistent in condeming her and doing their best to reveal her identity in order to secure the backlash. Having said that, their stance was in part to do with their rivalry with the Americans and their treatment of the would-be French President; from the dreaded 'perp walk' (the parading of an Accused person for all to see) to the moral high ground many Americans took over French attitudes towards "ow you say...ze sexual indiscretions" of a public figure.

Without wanting to go into the merits of the case itself, there are some issues that I feel in desperate need of a healthy dose of realism.

Starting with the District Attorney's doubts about her account which have stemmed from the lies she told on her US asylum application - which somehow means that she could not be truthful about a rape and by extension anything else, even if a rape allegation is supported by physical evidence. In effect what such a conclusion suggests is that if there was bruising consistent with someone having grabbed her private parts (which is what was alleged), this would be worthless evidence because she had lied on a matter completely unrelated to these events.

Secondly there's the issue of a private conversation she had a day or two after the incident which reveals that she was at that time aware of DSK's status and wealth and hoped to benefit from it - for argument's sake let's assume she is in effect a gold-digger. If my memory serves me, there have been countless women who approached rich men (assuming this was the case although there's no evidence to suggest it), and were subsequently raped by them - remember Mike Tyson who was convicted of raping a beauty pageant queen who visited him in his room at 2 a.m. Likewise English footballers will attest to the countless women who've accused them of rape which often took place in these men's hotel rooms. Yet the location and the women's  motives for going there in the first place did not dissuade prosecutors from bringing rape charges. Perhaps the standard for rape has since changed but the last time I checked, telling lies in an unrelated matter and being a gold-digger does not bar a person from being a credible rape victim, ...until now that is.

The notion of having lied on one's asylum application is too laughable to even discuss in detail. It's like being told that people lie on their CVs...... - to which my response would be: "no shit Sherlock" . Yes people lie on asylum application because their futures are on the line - often times it's a choice between economic hardship and opportunities to better their lives and the lives of their families. How is that any different to the countless middle class parents who lie to get their children into one school or the other? Surely lying for personal benefit whether it's to secure the right to remain in a country or to secure a better furture for our children is something we're all familiar with whether we care to admit to it or not.

Another matter that has me asking 'wtf' stems from the fact that Dominique Strauss-Kahn has never denied having sex with his Accuser. So whether this was a set-up or not, his lawyers can confirm that she didn't make up the fact that there was some kind of sexual act; the question that arises is whether it was consensual or not. Now while I appreciate that tastes vary, can someone please confirm the number of times they've seen a young attractive woman jump on an old pot-bellied man simply out of an uncontrollable sense of attraction? Granted there may well be exceptions to the rule but generally the older man-younger woman equation involves atleast one other element, - money. Yet DSK is not saying that he paid her for sex or that she even asked him for money and he refused but that consensual sex simply happened So I have to conclude that she found him so irresistible that she thought 'Yeah...why not random old naked man in room I'm cleaning, why don't I just have sex with you, that sounds like a fun thing to do.' I mean really? Really people? What are the chances? Or have I missed a new trend? Are old men the new Brad Pitt/Boris Kodjoe?

Whatever the outcome of the trial, if in fact the case goes to trial, I wish the media would just stop the hypocrisy and double standards. Either we have certain standards that we uphold regardless of who we're dealing with or we don't. We cannot have a 'No means no!' motto for certain victims of rape and have a 'Well it depends on what kind of a person you are' for others. Let's deal with the facts pure and simple and if race and power are going to come in to play then for goodness sake, let's call it like it is instead of hiding behind lies and false theories.

Monday 20 June 2011

O is for Oprah!


A friend of mine called last week to tell me she was just sat next to Oprah in a hotel restaurant somewhere in the English countryside. As you can imagine we both screamed down the phone as a million and one questions rolled off my tongue...so what did you say to her? what was she wearing? who was she with? what did she eat? Unfortunately given the casual manner with which Ms Winfrey and her equally high profile friends sat at a table opposite my friend, there was little she could do or say. This was not a 'can I have your autograph' moment because the assumption was that anyone who could afford to stay in this hotel should be accustomed to seeing Superstars of Ms Winfrey's stature. So my friend decided to play along although she admitted to not being able to eat a morcel of food the entire time she was sat just a few yards from one of the richest and most powerful women on the planet.

Although I haven't been a huge fan of Oprah's show since she started dedicating entire episodes to 'comb-overs' and other equally banal topics, when she announced her final season, I felt a little pang of sadness. The first thing that came to mind was the realisation that I would never get to attend a live recording of one of her shows, nor be in an audience that receives a brand new car, or be told by the lady herself 'you're coming to Australia!' I thought back to the books she's recommended and that I've read, from The Poisonwood Bible which I loved loved loved to Life of Pi which baffled me and Say you're one of them which I loathed. I couldn't help but feel like this was the end of an era. As authors like Anita Shreve (remember The Pilot's Wife) know only too well, a mere mention of a book or film by Oprah sends it soaring to the top of a bestseller or box office list. Everything she touches seems to turn to gold. There were even reports that her endorsement of President Obama won him over million votes; I'm sure he's hoping she can work her magic again in 2012.

Over the years, Oprah developed a winning formula of being 'one of us' - whatever problems we had experienced, she'd experienced similar or worse, she would bare her soul, showing us the real Oprah, warts and all. Oftentimes we got to forget our own issues and thought to ourselves 'if Oprah can make it, so can I'. From wheeling the equivalent of the body fat she had lost for an entire audience to gawk at, no doubt in disgust, to revealing herself make-up free  - uneven skin tone, blotches and all. How can anyone not relate to someone so brutally honest about her numerous flaws? Oprah has cried more times than we care to remember and the majority of us loved her for it; with each painful revelation, she gained more and more adoring fans.

Oprah is one of those people I admire for what they've achieved and for how much they give back but do not necessarily understand or agree with the methods they employ. Coming from a culture where we are taught not to air our dirty laundry in public, I'm perhaps more reluctant than most to bare my soul even to people I know let alone complete strangers but then again I realise I am not a public figure known by a single name.  I also find her approach a little vain at times; since Oprah started her magazine O, in 2004, she has graced every single cover. I can't help but find that a little strange at the very least and perhaps it's the American in her that is completely at ease with celebrating her own success month after month for 7 years and counting and I readily admit it may be the British in me that is uneasy with excessive self-praise. I also recognise that her motivation for doing this may be simply because she is the inspiration and the aspiration that her audience need to see; perhaps Oprah reminds them every day of what is possible.

It is impossible to dispute that Oprah is a phenomenon. She is the original rags to riches poster girl; she came from nothing to achieve so much and constantly gives back to communities all over the world. As easy as it would be to hate her for being so obscenely wealthy, we can't help but love her because every so often she's shared that wealth with us. I love the fact that she has managed to reach so many people - especially the often overlooked hard working middle class American who may have a job that covers the bills, if only just, yet is grateful for small miracles like a tax rebate or big ones like Oprah paying their mortgage for a year. You get the impression that beyond the publicity, she really wants to impart something to her fans, and for the most part it's something intangible, it's less about the free gifts and more about the life lessons.

Another close friend and fan recently told me about Oprah's Masterclass series which runs on her newly launched television network OWN  and features people like Maya Angelou, Diane Sawyer, Simon Cowell, Sidney Poitier, and Jay Z talking about their lives and what brought them to where they are - how they acheived 'greatness' if you will. In the pilot, Maya Angelou says "When you get, Give, when you learn, Teach" and this seems to sum up what Oprah has always strived to achieve. She is fully cognisant of how blessed she is and how important it is for her to give back, be it her wealth (in 2009 she donated $40 million to worthwhile causes all over the world), or her influence (she continues to support artists, products and causes that she believes in) or her belief in the Greater Good. She is clearly one of a kind and I'm certain if there were more billionaires with hearts as big as Oprah's, the world would be a much easier place to live in.

Watch the Masterclass episodes on Youtube or here http://www.oprah.com/own-master-class/Oprah-Presents-Master-Class

Friday 13 May 2011

Beautiful Salone

On 27th April 2011, Sierra Leone celebrated its 50th Independence anniversary and although the debate about what there is to celebrate still goes on as do the celebrations (if you had no idea, few nations know how to party like us), it got me thinking about what it is that makes my country special. No doubt many people feel this way about the place they call home but for me there is, has always been something magical about Sierra Leone.


Growing up in the Capital City, Freetown, my childhood was nothing short of idyllic, I grew up surrounded by a loving extended family and attended a school I looked forward to going to (inspite of my frequent canings – I admit I was handful) because I would get to spend time with my friends and work hard in order to be top of the class. There were activities and events throughout the year to look forward to from schools’ thanksgiving ceremonies which involved getting dressed to the nines and marching in the streets of Freetown for all to admire, to ‘Jumps’ as the daytime parties were known back then. School sports days were an exciting time where you’d get to compete but again always an opportunity for a new hairdo, new specially-starched uniform and a chance to show off to friends and family.

It was all about traditions and we loved looking forward to these at different times of the year, at Christmas it was about the family get-togethers, scrumptious meals of jollof rice (rice cooked in a tomato stew) with chicken stew, krio salad (a salad that is packed with what seems like 101 ingredients and named after the descendents of slave returnees) and roast-beef (not to be confused with British roast beef – these were beef kebabs marinated in hot scotch bonnet pepper, tomato puree and peanut butter). Christmas day started with church, and church traditions, and ended with visits to the various grandmas and aunties’ homes in the centre of town – where the action was. With each visit came more food, more laughter, and more celebrations. There were masquerades where figures referred to as ‘debul’ dressed in elaborate costumes, covered head to toe, would dance and perform tricks in the streets. As children we were told they had special powers and were not be stared at - of course we obliged and marvelled at them as they performed magic. They had names likes Mama Para (the really tall one – probably on stilts), Gunu-Gunu, Paddle and Kaka-Debul.

Boxing Day involved outings to the beach – with delicious food, home-made ginger beer and sweet bottled drinks like Vimto, Mirinda and 7-Up packed in Coleman picnic coolers, we’d head off to the likes of Sussex beach again with family and friends. New Year’s Eve (‘watch net’) would involve going to church and as we got older maybe a party or two afterwards. New Year’s Day was also a beach outing day, who could blame us in a country where the Atlantic oceans stretches over 300 miles. On Pray day as Eid-ul-Fitr is known in Sierra Leone we’d receive food from our Muslim neighbours who had been fasting or better still attend the numerous parties and celebrations they had. At Easter we attended church and spoke solemnly of the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ but for children the highlight was kite flying. These came in all shapes, colours and sizes and we competed with each other to see whose would go the highest, who could bring whose kite down, Easter without kite-flying just wasn’t Easter.

When I left Freetown and moved to London, I recall feeling constantly nostalgic for my old life. The traditions just weren’t the same in England; and although I was young enough to be able to adapt, my childhood lost its sparkle, I envied my friends who’d stayed who probably envied me for being in the ‘First world’. It was even harder for my cousins who moved to the UK in their teens, they felt as though the rug  had been pulled from under their feet, like a parent interrupted a ‘sweet’ party and sent everyone home. Although they got on with life, there was a greater yearning for the life they’d left back home. They’d recount exciting stories of Inter-Sec Sports where the various secondary schools in Freetown competed, the latest fashions, popular boys, even the newly opened nightclub Bacardi’s they’d sneak to occasionally and I would sit and listen with envy.

Visiting Freetown at Christmas time now became our new tradition and one that we equally looked forward to; as we exited the plane, thoughts of poor cabin crew service and ghastly food would evaporate as we felt the blast of humid air in our faces and walked across the tarmac towards eagerly awaiting family members and random strangers who just liked the buzz of an airport. The partying would usually start the same night – with phone calls to the few friends still in town confirming the best parties for us JJCs (Johnny-Just-Come - a term used to refer to Sierra Leonean holidaymakers) to attend. The next morning our aunt would treat us to oyster stew which we'd eat with kotor bread (traditionally baked half baguettes sold at local Fulani-owned stalls). We'd also sample all the local snacks throughout the holiday the granat cake (peanut brittle), breadfruit chips; we'd enjoy fruits we never got the chance to eat in London like chuk chuk plum (a prickly fruit), guava, small pink apples and countless other exotic fresh fruits. At the end of our two week holiday we would return to the UK, saddened by the thought of leaving sunshine and incessant fun for cold winter days that started in darkness as we dragged our feet to school and ended in darkness as we made our way back.

Years later when I moved back to Sierra Leone, the country took on a whole new meaning for me, the partying was now infrequent but I appreciated its natural beauty more than I’d done as a child. Sierra Leone is stunning in a word. Its landscape, green and hilly, the ocean is visible from most parts of the Capital City, did I mention its miles and miles of white sand beaches? The people are warm and friendly and even though they seem to revel in a bit of ‘kuss-kass’ (drama), their bark is far worse than their bite. A 5ft nothing elderly lady can challenge a burly taxi driver, knowing full well he will concede in an argument over the elevated fare he tried to charge her. There were times when I would drive through the streets and find myself shouting at people ‘fool-man’ ‘your idiot’ ‘oosai yu pull yu licence’ (where did you get your licence from) as I knew I wasn’t about to be pursued by some nutter and become the victim of road rage. Insulting people (‘for koss’) is an integral part of who we are and often times the ones with the loudest mouth are the most cowardly ending a verbal fight with words like ‘nar way nor more....’ (if it wasn’t for the fact that....). As an adult, I got to travel outside Freetown visiting Makeni and Port Loko where I found people equally approachable and welcoming. I found it comforting that I could also speak to my people in Krio (the lingua franca) – it meant that we could somehow relate to each other, even though not everyone in the places I visited spoke it, there were always a few who did.

Sierra Leone’s architecture is also worth a mention, from the traditional colourful Krio houses in the Capital City and the Krio villages in the Peninsula to the modest wan-flats (bungalows) and huts in the villages, to huge beautifully designed houses scattered in the suburbs of Freetown. Sierra Leone's architecture is an assortment that captures the imagination and tells the story of the country’s rich history.

Recently I stopped by an Italian colleague’s office to ask him a work-related question and spent thirty minutes listening to him tell me about how beautiful Sierra Leone is; he had spent a couple of years there working with the UN peacekeeping mission. He told me that the ‘patch granat’ (roasted peanuts) that were sold on the beaches were the best he’d ever had, not too salty, just right and so crunchy. The lobster he had at Bureh town beach was the largest, most tasty he’d ever had and did I know that River No. 2 was just so beautiful, the white sands and clear water, he’d never seen anything like it. (I smiled and told him there was one just like it in Jamaica). He went on about the food, oh the food, and how his house-help used to make fresh shrimps which were so huge, he made a fist to demonstrate and they were just so delicious. The people were so nice, he was invited by colleagues to their houses to eat and this was so unusual because he’d lived in Liberia and Guinea and Angola and this had never happened in those places. As he continued waxing lyrical about Sierra Leone, I smiled, nodded and remembered why I love my country so much.

Saturday 9 April 2011

Africa and the single narrative

I've been trying to read a horrid little book (well not so little but very horrid) that was recommended by a colleague of mine as a background to the conflict in the Democratic Republic of Congo. The book, Blood River by English journalist, Tim Butcher is peppered with racist stereotypes about Africa and its people and is evidence of a lack of understanding or perhaps desire to understand the problems that plague the DRC. His account is superficial at best but if I'm honest I would say shallow and racist with comments referring to 'the natives and their kalashnikovs', depictions of the 'emotionless' corrupt Government minister, and references to the 'dark continent', its 'dark past', 'dark present' etc etc. The book offers no hope, no depth and clearly no understanding and what makes it infuriating is that rather than telling 'his version' of a story, Tim Butcher seems to be offering up a so-called factual account of what he describes as 'the World's most dangerous country' with over-simplistic and inaccurate pronouncements including one about Tutsis being taller and thinner and having finer features than their ethnic neighbours. The irony of it all is that Butcher's journey which culminates in the writing of this book was a mere 45 days long, aided by the UN and various NGOs and a lot of money and by his own admission he lacked skills in the languages spoken by the so-called 'natives' whether French, Lingala or Swahili. Yet the book was well received and received high praise for giving 'A fascinating insight into Belgian colonial history and Congo today'. Reading this book, or attempting to, reminded me of a confrontation I once had with Rod Liddle, another English journalist who having spent two weeks in Uganda, returned to the UK to write some ridiculously inaccurate and damning account of the country, its people and its problems, all summarised in less than 2000 words.

This simplistic approach to a hugely diverse and complex continent seems to follow the style of colonial accounts of the 'dark continent' and its population who were summed up as either docile or savage, but always primitive . Although the modern narrative is less openly racist, the suggestion that you can sum up a country, however small with one account and especially when you have no real grasp or understanding of its cultural or social dynamics is no different from what European 'explorers' and colonisers were doing when they reported on Africa.

I recently watched a film called Kinshasa Symphony about a symphony orchestra in the DRC's capital and beyond the poverty what I saw were hard working, incredibly resourceful people who had developed a passion for classical music and who were striving every day to make their lives better. It was a simple story yet one that we never seem to hear when we see or read accounts of Africa.

The vey talented, Nigerian author, Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie gave a talk two years ago on the danger of the single story, in it she eloquently speaks about the impossibility of engaging properly with a place or person without engaging in all the stories of that place or person: http://www.ted.com/talks/chimamanda_adichie_the_danger_of_a_single_story.html

In fairness, foreign writers are not the only ones guilty of perpetuating the one-dimensional view of Africa and while I think it's wrong to expect any writer to paint a full picture of a country or a place, I do think is important for African writers to make it clear that they are simply telling one story, one little part of a very large and complicated jigsaw puzzle. Unfortunately because of the lack of a positive discourse on Africa, there is a tendency to turn writers, whether they are writers of fiction or not into 'experts' on the continent. These same writers seem to lap up their newly-acquired status, making gross generalisations about countries with countless ethnic groups and languages, while accepting their new role as an 'authority' on x, y or z country. This would never pass for so-called developed countries, considered by their very nature as far too complex to be summarised by one work or one writer, so it saddens me that it still passes for Africa.

I read a book last year which infuriated me to no end called 'Say you're one of them' by a Nigerian-born Jesuit priest; not only was every single one of his stories about children in various parts of Africa devoid of any hope, but what made it worse was that the cover of his book had the following quote from a review: "Akpan reveals Africa's pain, pity, joy and grace, and comes closer to the truth about modern Africa than the entire outpourings of the western mass media.". I appreciate that this is just one person's opinion but the effect has been to somehow sell this book as an accurate account of African children's lives. One of Amazon.com's readers wrote that the book had opened their eyes to how children in Africa live and suffer. The reader is based in the United States of America and having read this book had concluded that this was the reality of all African children.

As Ms Ngozi Adichie states "the consequence of a single story is that it robs people of dignity, it makes recognition of our equal humanity difficult [and] emphasizes how different, rather than how similar we are". Moving to the UK from Sierra Leone as a child, I remember having to contend with established stereotypes from the playground about living in a jungle or swinging from tree to tree and living among animals. That story which my classmates had all seen on television and read in books had absolutely no bearing whatsoever on my reality growing up in an urban centre in a middle class family. To this day, all the Africans I know have never been to, nor seen a jungle, and that includes those who grew up in the village but as African children moving to Europe or America, that was our single story - animals and the jungle.

Anyone who chooses to embrace a single narrative of any place in my opinion, contributes towards the false accounts that are at the root of our ignorance of one another today. Historical accounts are full of lies and half truths because stories were told by individuals who had their own agenda. We now have an opportunity to ensure that many stories are told that reflect not only the cultural diversity of places and people but also that celebrate the beauty of the human race. In all my travels, I can safely say that for every difference I see in people, there are countless similarities because even though our circumstances vary, fundamentally we are all the same.

Tuesday 15 March 2011

Skin bleaching - whose problem is it?*


In a short piece written a couple of months ago for http://www.rollingout.com/ , Amir Shaw argued that reggae artist, Vybz Kartel’s horrific bleaching was proof that self-hate permeates the black community. While I agree that Vybz Kartel must suffer from psychological problems which allow him to put his health at such an obvious risk for the sake of looking like a member of the living-dead, I reject the idea that it somehow reflects a problem that is facing our entire community.

Skin-bleaching is revolting; we can certainly argue that it’s a form of self-hate because of the shocking effects that it has on the person’s skin. Those who bleach their skin expose themselves to serious damage from the sun, having killed off the melanin-making cells which act as a natural barrier. Bleached skin becomes thinner, sometimes almost transparent and always has a redness/soreness which makes it obvious that the person is bleaching. Some of the bleaching creams that contain mercury can cause poisoning that leads to a damaged liver or kidney failure. Hydroquinone which can be found in a lot of these creams was banned in Europe because studies showed it can cause cancer. There is no doubt that the effects of bleaching can be horrendous and deadly, which makes you wonder what kind of person would go through such serious health risks just so they can come out looking like a zombie (Vybz Kartel) or a ghost (Latoya Jackson)?

I think it’s possible to argue that at the outset people who bleach their skin may simply want to achieve a different look, one they consider more appealing in a similar way that people lie in the sun or under a sun bed continuously simply want what they consider to be a more attractive skin tone. However when you consider the effects of bleaching and when you see the end results, I think any sane person in their right-mind would reason that it’s simply not worth it. I think that it’s valid to say that as a general rule, people crave the ‘exotic’- something that stands out from the norm; for English people who naturally have pale skin, ‘exotic’ is looking more like the southern Europeans with their olive skins that tan easily. For some black people, it’s achieving the look of someone who is lighter and therefore more ‘exotic’.

To suggest that black people bleach their skin because they want to be white would be the same as arguing that white people tan their skin because they want to be black. If that suggestion sounds absurd then why are we so quick to label the entire black community as ‘dying to be white’? Does that not perpetuate a racist notion that we all harbour a secret desire to be like our former colonial masters?

In the same way, the proposition that we often hear that women who wear hair extensions or weave-on do so because they want to be like their white counterparts is equally nonsensical especially when you have white women today wearing hair pieces because either their hair is too thin or they want to achieve a different look. Why is it easier for us to accept a simple and trivial reason for various beauty choices on the part of white people but not for our own community? Are we not giving credence to slavery for having broken us by suggesting nearly 200 years after its abolition that everything we do is informed by slavery?

Personally, I reject the idea that our community is in any more of a crisis than the white community. Why do the same theorists who tell us that black people do x y or z because they want to be white not also suggest that white men prefer blonde and blue eyed women because they harbour a secret desire to be part of an Aryan race similar to the ideals of Nazi Germany? Likewise we never ever hear stories of white societies being under threat because white women are marrying or having children with black men. Surely if we’re suffering from these so-called threats, they must on the other hand also be experiencing the effects of them as well.

I think we should be aware of our past, but there is clearly a danger that we are allowing it to dictate who we are today. We have much to celebrate in terms of our achievements. When people like Vybz Kartel behave in such a shocking manner, we should be quick to condemn them without somehow tarring our entire community with the same brush.

I can attest to the fact that the people I know and admire do not bleach their skins. They are educated and exposed enough to appreciate their beauty and to not run such unnecessary risks. I’d be lying however if I said they were all happy with their skin complexion or texture; but I think that a desire to have smoother or more even-toned skin doesn’t translate to hating one’s race. The women I know do wear make up in a bid to achieve a flawless look…and nothing more. Some of the strongest and self-conscious women I know may wear a weave on a given day and on another would undergo a complete transformation with braids or a short cut.

I believe we do our community a disservice by letting the minority, especially an uninspiring, unexposed, ignorant minority like Vybz Kartel and those who practice skin-bleaching, speak for the rest of us. We have achieved a great deal and I’m pretty certain that there are far more people in the black community who do not bleach their skins than who do. Skin bleaching is not an epidemic that affects us all. In its extreme, it is a shameful reality for some that we need to condemn without making it ‘our’ problem.

Kartel is a troubled man but he looks nothing like my brother or my father or my husband and for that reason I’m happy to identify his bleaching as his problem not mine, certainly not my community’s.

*Article first published in Rethink Caribbean

Tuesday 8 March 2011

If I see one more ‘woe is the single woman’ article…..

I’ve just read three articles dealing with the woes of being a single woman, the first written by a single woman who spends the entire article talking about how much of an over-achiever she is, apparently with the pedigree of an Arabian thoroughbred, only to finish pathetically dreaming of a ‘found glass slipper’ and a kiss to awake her from her slumber, dreams that apparently get her through life’s drudgery.


Article no 2 is written by an expert in getting married, having done it (albeit unsuccessfully) three times, she feels qualified to tell single women what they’re doing wrong. Essentially, it’s all about changing who you are so you can achieve the wonderful state of matrimony.

The final which I’ll admit I couldn’t bear to finish reading was about the lack of single men in New York but again the crux of the argument was that you dear single female reader are the problem….the sole reason why you are still unhappily single.

First of all let me say that I’m not single but I’m hoping you’ll be willing to hear me out before making a decision about my credibility on the issue of singledom. It might help you to know that I’m not a ‘smug married’ and I was raised by two, no three single women. First my grandmother, then my aunt and finally my mother. All formidable women who just got on with the business of life and raising children with the help of their extended family

Now, I don’t know exactly where it started but some, no make that a lot of women have managed to convince themselves that being single is some kind of a curse. Perhaps a male-dominated society has been telling them this for so long that they’re starting to believe it. Or maybe it’s their smug married female friends who are often so miserable in their own lives that they like to pretend they are somehow better off. Trust me they’re not!

I know I’m not saying anything new but I feel that it needs to be said on this 8th day of March 2011, International Women’s day – Ladies you can be single and happy!!! There are good marriages and bad marriages, likewise single life can be fulfilling or it can be lonely as hell. The advantage is that as a singleton you get to choose whether you’ll lead a life that makes you happy whereas to be married and happy depends on your spouse not being an arsehole!

While I enjoy being married, I recognise that it’s not for everyone. Marriage is an institution that requires an enormous amount of sacrifice/compromise and in my experience and those of my friends, the wife is the one who does most of the compromising/sacrificing. There are no doubt exceptions to the rule but the fact that a majority of women have to give up their surname and identity to take on their husbands should already ring alarm bells that ‘ain’t nothing equal about this set-up’. Also it may be as a result of our disposition as women, and again I speak for myself and the 80 or so married women I know, but we tend to just get on with what needs to be done and that ends up meaning doing everything ourselves. We become primary carers of our children, which often means professional compromise; we take on the lion share of the housework and we comport ourselves in public like ‘married women’. This means most of us lose the male friends we once had because we are acutely aware of what is expected of us as ‘wives’. Our husbands on the other hand have flourishing careers, supportive wives, cared-for children and homes that they can happily come back to at the end of a long day at work followed by nights hanging with the boys or girls. For all intents and purposes there is nothing, other than the ring that would suggest that their status has changed.
Before you get the picture of a gloom and doom marriage, let me attempt to qualify this though by saying what you give up on the one hand you gain on the other. There’s the wonderful feeling of being with the man you love (I’m making an assumption here of course that people marry for love); marriage also means someone to have sex with when you choose and how you choose, with or without the end result of children and last but by no means least companionship.

As a single woman the greatest benefit is freedom, to do, to be, to go without having to answer to anyone and although society would have us believe that women are incapable of enjoying sexual freedom apparently because of some hormone called oxytocin , I can say with absolute certainty that this is not true for every woman. Admittedly not everyone is liberated enough to pursue or enjoy sex outside of a committed relationship, those who do, do exist and are increasing in numbers so long live the female sexual revolution! Being single also means absolute selfishness, taking care of numero uno, guilt-free shopping and countless hours beautifying yourself without fear of being judged by a hardworking husband/breadwinner.

Granted we’ve seen enough Hollywood chick flicks and read enough ‘self-help’ articles to be able to list the drawbacks of being a single woman and even name the films that illustrate them; from ‘27 dresses’ to ‘The Back up Plan’, ‘He’s just not that into you’, and who can forget the dreadful ‘The Ugly Truth’. The gamut includes the date dilemma for a friend’s wedding, the realisation that all your friends are settling down, the desire to get pregnant and of course good ole plain loneliness. Without wishing to trivialise these issues, I think that the anxieties that come from them are for the most part self-inflicted.

We can choose to be happy and single. We can choose to go to a wedding alone or with a friend, male or female. Likewise we can decide to have children outside of wedlock or to adopt and finally why not opt out of loneliness? We can choose not to be lonely with or without a partner. Why allow society to define what happiness means for you when we are all so different? In fact I’m convinced that it’s all a ploy by men to lure us into marriage by convincing us that we want it more than they do….when in actual fact, they need it far more than we do. Single women need to take what their married peers say with a pinch of salt, yes of course they’re happy some of the time but then so are you! The rest of the time you struggle with various issues ranging from professional to personal. They likewise struggle with issues of inadequacy….am I sexy enough? Is he looking at other women? Are my children happy/well-balanced? We all have our issues….'local and global’ as a friend would say so let’s all stop pretending that marriage provides some sort of a catch-all solution.

There are times when I refer to myself as a single woman, partly because I forget that I’m married, partly because I think my subconscious is trying to preserve my identity in this ‘institution’. I love being married because I’m with the man I love but I wouldn’t chose marriage just for the sake of it and I sincerely doubt I would do it again with someone else.

No doubt being single comes with difficulties and the grass is always going to appear greener on the other side but from someone who is on the other side, let me assure you that it isn’t. No matter how ‘loved up’ you are, marriage is hard work and a constant battle of wills.

By all means aspire to it if that’s what you want but it helps to know that there are women like my mother, aunt and late grandmother, who were/are perfectly happy single and had/have very fulfilled lives.

Wouldn’t it be a testament to how far we’ve come as women to have more and more women happily embrace being single and telling the self-styled relationship gurus to stick their ‘how to get married in 30 days’ advice where the sun doesn’t shine?

Today, I’ve decided to raise a glass to my fabulous single female friends – long and happily may you live!!!!

Wednesday 23 February 2011

It's LFW darling

So London Fashion Week came to a close yesterday and the baton will now be handed to Milan for  its 'Pret-a-Porter' collection... that's 'Ready to wear' to you and I darlink which runs from February 23rd to March 1st, and finally Paris the Capital of haute couture will be wrapping up the season, i.e Spring collections between March 1 and 9th. Quel dommage! I'm hoping this little paragraph which did require some 'googling' demonstrates that unlike most 'haters' of fashion, I'm not completely ignorant of the beast, I just don't like it! Let me qualify that, I can't say I despise fashion per se, rather if I had to choose between Style and Fashion, I'd go for the former any day. Granted the two sometimes meet but judging from this season's trends, I'm beginning to think less and less so.
Something else I find irritating about fashion is its ability to make people do stupid things, wear obviously ridiculous clothes and excuse such behaviour by telling dismayed onlookers that it's in fashion, as if that were some kind of excuse to lose one's self-awareness.
The other day Vivienne Westwood had the gall to criticise Kate Middleton for having no style and while I agree that the soon-to-be Queen of Great Britain-in-waiting's dress sense leaves a lot to be desired for someone her age, I take heart that atleast she doesn't look hideous half the time, which unfortunately I can't say for Ms Westwood. She's the British designer famous for bringing punk to fashion, who is hugely innovative and revels in breaking the rules, yet she herself looks absolutely hideous 90% of the time. It's one thing designing clothes for 20something year old anorexic-looking models, quite another trying to pull it off when you're 70, and très wrinkled sweetie.
At times watching fashion shows feels a little like reading 'The Emporer's new clothes' all over again where everyone seems to be pretending to be in awe of some new designer collection and the more discerning and plain speakers among us are thinking 'but its the same as last year and the year before'. Whether it's the chat shows with their 'what's new this season' or the glossy magazines, fashion pundits in every media seem to make a habit of trying to pull the wool over our eyes. This Spring 2011 trends apparently include floral prints, stripes, playsuits and bell bottoms - 'Hang on' ...I hear you shout, '...but those were last year's trends too'...and probably the year before. Yet nobody seems to bring this to the so-called designers and fashion pundits' attention that not only are we regurgitating 60s and 70s trends that our parents followed, we are also repeating them year after year and pretending they're new and fresh each time.
And then we have the style genius that is Mr Gok Wan who tries to tell every woman in the UK that they can look beautiful naked...Not! This man has a lot to answer for because thanks to him young girls walking the streets of London, Manchester, Liverpool and every other major UK city think they can D.I.Y their way to a fashionable wardrobe and the results are ofcourse disastarous. Gok's Clothes Roadshow, a series on British television advocates women sewing on things like buttons and tassles, and wearing their cardigans backwards to create a designer look for less. Yes yes I know, it sounds ridiculous and it is, picture the tired old trousers that have had sequins glued on by some incompetent teenager because Gok says so. To some extent we can excuse the young because invariably they have great bodies and few brain cells but when older 'ought to know better' people take blind fashion advice, it just makes me want to weep.
I understand the lure of fashion, it requires little effort, you can just pick an item or two and wear it in exactly the same way as you saw Kate Moss wearing it at that red carpet event, except you don't have her body and you're not on the red carpet, you're walking down the high street and finally, I think most importantly the 'knock off ' which you've bought is made of cheap polyester and has been sewn together by little nimble fingers somewhere in India, her's is made of pure silk and looks expensive because it is expensive!

I'm not suggesting that noone is able to pull off fashion trends, simply that those who do, use their heads. They are able to mix and match items, cheap and cheerful with key quality pieces and the result is often that we assume if the shoes are from Ted Baker, the dress must be too, even though it only costs 14.99 from H&M. I think smart stylish people also realise that they can't pull off any look, no matter how hot and 'on trend' it is.

For the rest of us, my advice would be leave the clogs to Alexa Chung, the hoof-style boots to Solange Knowles and please please please remember that if you do not follow the Sikh religion and you're not a man, then there's absolutely no excuse for wearing a turban.

Thursday 10 February 2011

Oh do get off that soapbox!

The Times front page headline reads Saudis told Obama not to humiliate Mubarak followed by Hugh Tomlinson's report of the phone call made by King Abdullah to President Obama telling him that if they tried to force Mubarak out of Egypt in the face of popular protest, his government would retailiate by propping him, i.e. Mubarak up. And so it would seem our journalists are up in arms, outraged on the public's behalf as though this was the most scandalous thing since the last Wikileaks bombshell. Which leaves me wondering do people fully understand what happens in international politics?

Leaders threatening each other is hardly news and I for one didn't need to read any Wikileaks report to understand that politics is a dirty game where seemingly chummy Heads of States have utter contempt for one another. Is it not obvious that powerful countries achieved their status by less than pleasant means? Or that despotic regimes count so-called democratic leaders among their supporters? Perhaps I'm cynical and maybe people do go around thinking that our leaders are all fine upstanding citizens whose actions are purely altruistic. Somehow I doubt this very much. I think the public is a lot more discerning than the media would have us believe so their outrage at the USA being influenced by the oil-rich Saudis seems a little feigned to say the least.

Let's assume for a moment that we do all expect Western Leaders to uphold their democratic principles in all political matters, whether domestic or foreign. We know they can be very vocal in condemning the likes of Robert Mugabe for human rights abuses or supporting military coups of those they deem to be dictators(or as Bush would say 'against US'), and perhaps we find that laudable yet we can't ignore that when it comes to oppressive regimes like China and Israel it is always business as usual. What I find hugely duplicitous is that our so-called independent media perpetuate these double standards rather than acknowledge that politics is and has always been a dirty game. This may be part of our ability as Westerners to constantly maintain the moral high ground, albeit in our own minds. We're constantly told and we believe that we are free unlike the oppressed populations of the world. We elect our leaders and hold them accountable but do we really?

There are countless examples of actions that have been taken (see War in Iraq) and are still taken by our elected leaders which we have either no knowledge of, and which if/or when we do, we are rightly outraged by. Admittedly on fundamental issues such as our freedoms, to associate or to express ourselves in the media or in public, we are far more advanced than autocracies like North Korea or Iran, but we shouldn't fool ourselves into thinking that we know of, or could possibly approve of all the decisions that our governments make. Politics is a ruthless business, where power is the single most important factor and governments will carry out some of the most despicable acts in order to maintain or acquire such power.

In the game of politics leaders are ousted at a whim  because they do not suit a country's purpose as was the case with Haiti's Jean Bertrand Aristide, genocidal regimes are protected as the French did in Rwanda during Operation Turquoise and when governments refuse to play ball, crippling sanctions are imposed as was the case in Zimbabwe which end up affecting the ordinary man more than the despotic leader. Who on earth are we kidding when we try to hold Obama accountable for Mubarak's refusal to step down from power? The US's influence in Egypt is worth nothing as long as the 82 year old leader has the support of a mighty power like Saudi Arabia. As long as leaders have financial and often military backing from one country or another, whether openly or as is often the case 'behind close doors', they will continue to do exactly as they please even if that means defying their people and/or the international community. Politics will continue to be about a power struggle where sometimes the power shifts from one nation to another.

Oftentimes I wish people would simply call things like they are and stop pretending we live in some kind of Utopia where our leaders have our best interests at heart. What the phone call from King Abdullah and the subsequent 'delicate' diplomacy on the part of Washington proves is that the Saudis have the upper hand. Simply put, America will have to dance to their tune because clearly they have something that America wants.....or rather needs.
So my humble appeal to the next journalist who choses to pick up this story and run with it as though it were the 'scoop' of the week, do get off your soapbox for one minute and fully appreciate what being the leader of any nation means and if you already know this which I suspect you do, then try and find another story to demonstrate your moral indignation. I hear Britain's decided to triple its aid to Somalia. Now there's a story worth investigating.

Wednesday 26 January 2011

Hanging up my Superwoman cape

She's a successful professional working her way up the corporate ladder, cooks like Nigella, runs a small cupcake business on the side, is on the Parents Teachers Association committee of her children's school and is teaching her one year old baby sign language. This may sound like a comic book heroine but I'm guessing we can all recognise one or more of the modern day Superwoman’s traits and for some of us she may reflect the Over-Achiever we've become. My question though is how healthy is it to want to achieve so much?


There's a Boot advert  released in December depicting two women who are running errands whilst clearly suffering from very bad colds. They bump into each other and recount all the things they have to do which includes completing a presentation for a meeting, packing for a holiday, picking kids up from school and taking them swimming, nursing a husband who is sick in bed and all the while confirming through blocked up noses that they are fine...yes fine. I used to like this advert, in fact it used to make me laugh but not anymore. Now I want to weep when I see it and short of that, I find myself shouting at the TV "Don't encourage them!" Them ofcourse being women who seem to think that it's a badge of honour doing everything and not acknowledging that they sometimes need help or simply to take time out for themselves.

In addition to all that she does, Superwoman’s mission would be incomplete without some serious gloating or one-up man ship. It’s simply not enough to be a size 0 two months after giving birth as well as of course already giving your partner a run for his money in the bedroom and completing a marathon in record time, she also has to tell other women about it ….especially the 'failures'…you know the ones who are having trouble shifting the flab three years after giving birth and are looking like a hot mess on the personal grooming front. What better way to drive them to suicide than to reveal your six pack abs whilst whipping up a three course meal and extolling the virtues of home schooling. Recently Mrs Bloom…. (Orlando’s wife) decided to post a flawless picture of herself breastfeeding her newborn baby accompanied by comments that she gave birth to the almost 10lb baby without any pain relief. Great.....so thanks for that Miranda; that just made the day of that new mum suffering from post natal depression having spent 12 hours in labour with an epidural. And then there’s Gisele Bundchen….yes the supermodel who told women last year that they should all be forced to breastfeed for at least six months because ofcourse she did just that no doubt whilst travelling between Milan and Rio on photo shoots. Another wonderful moment for womankind….just what we needed especially when thousands of women are having a hard time not producing enough milk for their newborns and feeling inadequate as a result.

The truth is being an over achiever, Super mum, Super wife, Super Manager comes at a heavy price to our health. Our constant running around and giving 110% as the expression goes may not manifest itself immediately but it will invariably lead to stress which does have an impact on our short and long term health. Some serious side effects of stress include hair loss, insomnia, high blood pressure and even stomach ulcers, and I can testify to knowing  a number of women who have suffered from one or more of these. What's more so many of us appear incapable of just relaxing….you know that party trick where you do absolutely nothing! In short, our quest for perfection is making us socially inadequate at best and sick at worst.

I'll admit to having donned my Superwoman cape with pride in the past but think my ‘light bulb moment’ came when I woke up one night wondering and asking my sleeping hubby whether our daughter had eaten lunch before going to a party the day before. That’s when I realised that this business of trying to do everything and do it perfectly was getting out of hand. Not only was my question absurd at 2 a.m., it also revealed that rather than having a restful night’s sleep I was busy worrying about all the things I had not been able to control/do perfectly. I concluded that rather than lose my sanity trying to create an unrealistically perfect world, I had better lower my expectations. So whilst I am not hanging up my chef’s apron completely or giving up blogging or my business or doing a good job at work, I am loosening my control on these things. If work doesn’t get done within the dedicated hours, i.e. 9am-5pm with a full hour’s lunch, then it will simply have to wait until the next day. I’m going to re-acquaint myself with the freezer section of the supermarket when I just don’t have the energy to prepare a nutritious meal from scratch. My kids do not need to have organised activity every weekend, sometimes they can just play with the toys they have or here’s an idea…learn to entertain themselves. If I can only get around to blogging once a month….then so be it. I’m sure the world will survive without my pearls of wisdom for a few weeks. And as far as the business is concerned I will learn to delegate more and then just let it go!!!!!! Because let’s face it while Superwoman goes about saving the world, who on earth is saving her?

Wednesday 19 January 2011

If this is Capitalism, then call me a Socialist!

Tomorrow will mark two years since Barack Obama took office as President of the United States and today the House Representatives voted to repeal his Health care reform bill which many will argue is his greatest achievement to date.
So why repeal it?....to most Europeans it seems like a 'no-brainer' to use an American term, yet the US population are divided on whether everyone should have the right to decent and safe healthcare irrespective of their financial situation. To be very frank I just don't get it. Perhaps I'm missing something but I find myself asking whether this is what true Capitalism looks like?

Simply put Capitalism is defined as "an economic and political system in which a country's trade and industry are controlled by private owners for profit, rather than by the state." (Source Oxford Dictionary Online) Socialism on the other hand, advocates public or common ownership and management of resources.
With Capitalism comes a tendency for a more individualistic society - as money is king ultimately, we must all work towards making more of it, even if this is to the detriment of others. Contrary to what Fox News would have their dimwitted audience believe, countries in Europe follow the Capitalist model rather than the socialist one, however most Europeans understand and appreciate the need for the State to intervene in order to protect vulnerable members of society. Hence Europeans' bewilderment about public opposition to the US Healthcare reform bill. I suspect there is also a widely held belief shared by most decent human beings that certain rights must not be compromised, rights such as access to  food, education and yes healthcare!
In African societies, it is a given that we take care of our extended families - and although this can prove burdensome at times for able-bodied and better off family members, it results in closer and stronger family bonds and everyone in society from the young to the old feel cared for.
In European countries where nuclear families are more common,  people still accept that they have an obligation to contribute towards a better society, i.e. by paying their taxes or other social contributions. I'm not suggesting for a moment that people don't complain about this or at times about able-bodied people who 'sponge off' society, they certainly do. Nonetheless I've yet to hear someone bemoan the fact that unemployed or poorer members of society are receiving free healthcare which their taxes pay for. It just seems like a very odd thing to me in a so-called civilised and developed country. Such an attitude furthers the rich poor divide and although such disparity is something the Western media documents as representative of developing countries, the images post Hurricane Katrina tell us quite something else. I wonder though if the Americans who complain about having to fund healthcare simply choose to ignore the adverse effects of a society where companies thrive at the expense of the poor and sick or where the wealthy can afford the best medical treatments while the poor and struggling have to choose between their health and say the roof over their heads.To date the main and only valid argument I've heard from those opposed to Obama's Affordable Health Care Act is that it will mean a rise in their taxes. Although there are other gripes, such as the fear of government using healthcare funding for abortions and the government taking over and operating a second rate healthcare system - such arguments have been rebutted unequivocally. The crux of opponents' argument therefore is that they are expected to susidise through their taxes those with the greatest need which simply put reflects an 'everyman for himself' attitude.

Before the Act came in last year, 46 million Americans were without health insurance, children with pre-existing conditions could be denied coverage, and insurers could cancel your policy retroactively because of an unintentional mistake on your application. The Act has addressed these and many more issues so what exactly is so objectionable about it?
I understand that American Society thrives on hard work and for many people, success has come as a result of sheer drive and determination. This is an admirable quality and why the country is still viewed as the land of opportunity. Yet we cannot ignore the fact that the 'lazy and privileged' also exist. There are those who were born into 'money' whose paths have been carved for them and who are where they are today simply because of their heritage. I can think of a few former US Presidents to illustrate this point. It is therefore disingenuous to suggest that the vulnerable among us should be denied assistance when there was never a level playing field to begin with. If we all started on an equal footing, this argument may be somewhat persuasive but even then.... as we say in Africa 'No one knows what tomorrow will bring'. There are times when in spite of our best efforts we find ourselves in need of a helping hand; there have been stories of people whose lives were turned upside down following a redundancy. There are those who recognise that all  it will take is a few missed mortgage payments for them to find themselves without a roof over their heads and in need of assistance.

It's one thing to deny people financial support but quite another to refuse them healthcare when they are at their most vulnerable. Healthcare should be a right not a privilege and if supporting a system that provides a more equitable system where companies are not allowed to exploit the vulnerable, means being accused of Socialism, then that is a badge I will proudly wear.

Sunday 9 January 2011

Cyberspace - the new mask for hatred

They call themselves critics or commentators, I prefer the term cowards. I refer to those who hide behind cyberspace in order to voice their hate-filled and often obscene ideas. Pick any website from news sources like guardian.co.uk to gossip ones like dailymail.co.uk to Youtube, social networks like Twitter; take a moment to read some of the comments made by people in response to contributors' opinions and postings and chances are your blood will run cold.

Human beings seem capable of expressing such loathsome ideas, and of so much hatred often in response to some of the most trivial things when there is no fear of them having to defend their ideas publically. It reminds me of the Klu Klux Klan and their masks as they carried out lynchings and like that, it smacks of cowardice whichever way we look at it.

I am a firm believer in standing by your convictions, however unpopular. If you believe in something you should have the courage to defend it. If however a person is simply harbouring hateful ideas which have no place in society and cannot be defended then rather than using the internet which can be a positive and progressive tool, they should consider keeping those thoughts locked in their warped mind or better still think about speaking to a professional about their issues.

I enjoy using the internet, emailing, blogging and keeping in touch with friends and family; my work is almost entirely reliant on this medium. Yet the internet also frightens me ....quite a lot; hence the decision to not include my personal details in this blog. In the past, I've been the object of hateful and anonymous email messages whose origin I have no idea of, more than two years later. I also limit my children's exposure to the internet because of the number of psychos who I believe reside in cyberspace.
I once found a Youtube video of the Little Mermaid which started with the character Ariel singing only for it to morph into some 'nutter' launching into his own version of 'Part of your world' whilst gyrating in front of his webcam. Clearly he did this in order to lure children who would expect to see a full version of the Disney classic and would instead end up viewing some deranged grown man clearly in need of his medication or locking up for all our sakes.
On another occasion I pulled up a video again on Youtube of the Kidz Bop version of the song 'Hey, I love you' which a friend posted on her Facebook only to be confronted with comments that included obscene name-calling of children in the group whose music is aimed at 3-10 year olds. More recently I happened upon Rihanna's twitter page and saw an exchange between her and a 'follower' where the latter made a misogynistic comment in response to a positive message the singer had posted. Clearly not wanting to seem like a spoil-sport, she responded to him; although my approach would have been to simply 'block' the moron!
Call me naive but does it not go without saying that as human beings we wont all share the same opinions or find the same things appealling? And if that is accepted as a given, then why subject yourself to something you dislike only to lay into it? For instance, I don't care for rock music so it would be insane of me to watch an Aerosmith video only to post insults directed at the band because their music 'sucks' to use a common cyber term.

I think debate is healthy and yes by all means critique someone's work but using real parameters not simply your personal like or dislike. If someone writes an opinion piece, it is simply that, an opinion piece, they are not reporting the news, they are simply giving their opinion on something, therefore the analysis should be based on whether that opinion was well-presented, balanced or convincing. If someone has 'left-wing' ideas you can be certain they are not setting out to convince a 'right-wing' reader. So for that reader to accuse them of being liberal or leftist is really to state the obvious; to go further and spout hateful words or try to discredit their professionalism simply on the basis of a difference of opinion is childish and to do so from the comfort of a barren living room where only the 'critic' and his lonely computer sit...quite pathetic.

On this blog, I choose to moderate comments not because I don't welcome criticism but simply because I refuse to provide a forum for the frustrated and borderline insane to air their questionable opinions.
I read a number of blogs and sometimes I agree with what the person says, other times I don't, if a piece is well written I will say so. If I dont think it is then I simply wont post a comment because I know that there are others out there who will beg to differ. I also think it's morally wrong to belittle the work of someone or worse defame them while hiding behind some ridiculous cyber name.

Fortunately there is an increase in cases of internet slander or internet libel so people will be forced to think twice about what they post on the internet 'anonymously'. Likewise there is an ongoing debate about incitment to hatred on the internet which while recognising that Freedom of expression extends to the internet, acknowledges that it carries with it the same responsibilities as it does in the real world.

Wednesday 5 January 2011

NY-LON Part II – London calling

Call me biased but as far as cities go, London is truly phenomenal!

I like to think of it as the smart cool kid of cities. When you're in this densely populated city of 7.5 million, you feel like you're part of a vibrant metropolis that isn't defined by any one thing. It's colourful, it’s exciting, it's lively, it loves to debate but at the same time doesn't take itself too seriously. There are a million and one things to do that will engage your mind but at the same time allow you to bask in the glow of the ‘stylish set’. Londoners are some of the coolest city dwellers around. Although admittedly when I moved back a few years ago I felt like a fish out of water and what struck me the most was how well put together most people were. I was left wondering when exactly everyone became so stylish. Having spent time in France and Italy, I readily admit that the British are not natural style icons but like so many things - they are open to ideas and as a result they've learnt how to look good and make the most of their assets, not to mention the fact that the city being the melting pot that it is, has meant Londoners have become closely acquainted with Spanish, French and Italian style among others.

Aside from being on trend, London is an open-minded city. I think this is as a result of a massively diverse population who are allowed to be themselves, no assimilation for us thank you very much. Londoners get on with their lives, embracing each other’s cultures and redefining British culture as we know it, so much so that the last time I checked curry, (yes...as in korma or vindaloo) was the national dish!

Some may argue that it creates problems when people don't assimilate but I beg to differ. A lot of African, Eastern European and Asian children start school with English as their second language but as adaptable as children are, they are soon able to pick up the language, its nuances and convincingly speak and act British. To be British however is not to be confused with being English. For me, being British is about being articulate, appreciating a dry and sometimes dirty sense of humour, being self-deprecating, not taking myself too seriously, sharing a drink at the pub all the while knowing that I'll go home and enjoy some hip-life as I tuck into my fufu and okra soup and speak fondly of 'back home'. I know it must all sound terribly contradictory and yes I probably would fail the cricket test if it still existed today.

But back to this fabulous city which embodies my definition of Britishness! To compare it to New York or Paris would be doing it a disservice, yes it has all the bright lights of a big city; its theatre rivals Broadway, its architecture is comparable to that of Paris and Rome, but it is about so much more than all the trappings of a big city. London rocks because it is the most tolerant city I have ever visited or lived in. This may be as a result of the British 'stiff upper lip' which means that self restraint is the order of the day. Generally as a group we tend to not be shaken by much and this allows for a great deal of room to manoeuvre. A half-naked girl on the tube doesn't move Londoners; if however she were to start smoking, "well that simply won’t do!" At that point 'one would have to voice one's concern' ....mind you more likely than not 'under one's breath'. The effect of this stoic, some would say passive aggressive approach is that people can be themselves, however that is defined and this, is no mean feat.

London offers choice in everything, from entertainment to eateries, to clothes, to ideas. Although it can sometimes seem like too much choice is a bad thing, only when you're faced with a situation where everyone is 'singing from the same hymn sheet' do you appreciate its value.

I'm always struck by the 'underlying' lack of choice when I travel to Europe and to an extent North America. Underlying because it seems absurd to suggest that there is a lack of choice in Western countries when comparing them with some parts of the developing world, yet if you pay closer attention, you’ll see that what you get is simply 'more of the same'. I always notice particular products and franchises that are overtly more present than others when I travel to other countries. For instance, last summer I couldn't get over the fact that every single pushchair (stroller) I saw on the streets of New York and Boston carried the name of British manufacturer, Maclaren and I visited enough parks and child friendly areas to say that with confidence. I also used to find it amusing as a teenager visiting family in Maryland that every single American family I came across seemed to trust only Robitusson to get rid of their coughs, so much so I started my own theory that the company must be government-owned.

Moving to Europe, in Holland, it seems virtually impossible to shop anywhere other than Albert Heijn supermarket, whether in Rotterdam, Amsterdam or the Hague, I found myself confronted by the same A-H logo that made me think I was on some eerie horror movie set where the protagonist runs for miles and miles and finds herself back in the same ghost town.

In Paris, everyone who has ever ordered a Chinese take away in my presence seems to go for the same thing...'riz cantonais' and 'les nems'; in the US, the equivalent would be General Tso's chicken!!! I cant help but wonder if there's some unwritten rule book that everyone gets about ordering Chinese food when they arrive in these countries.
I admit that there are key brands that are apparent in this city too but I truly believe London makes for a much more discerning consumer. Whether it's clothes retailers, supermarkets, quality fresh produce, restaurants, clubs, bars, newspapers and even political thought.

Whether you're shopping at Portobello market, grabbing some dim sum heaven at Ping Pong or watching a show at South Bank, there just seems to be more on offer including the opportunity to use your head and if necessary to go against the grain.

The only thing to bear in mind is that when in London, conformity is simply not an option!