Tuesday, September 22, 2015

Birthday Ma.

My mother is seventy-nine today!

I can't begin to tell you all how I wish I was there to spend it with she.

She is one o' the most kind, caring, giving person you would ever meet. And I ain't saying it just because she is my mother. Ask anybody who ever come in contact with she...they gon tell you how she help them.  She even useta feed the village drunk when he come asking for food.



Thursday, September 10, 2015

…fish frying, floating through the air…

People!! My nose is a food-hound!

My nose love food so bad, I can be walking on the streets and my nose does holler out, “Mmmm, I smell cook-up…mmm, I smell curry, mmm, I smell metemgee with plenty-plenty coc’nut milk, mmmm.”

My nose never been so happy since I move into this apartment.  For some reason, my neighbours food here is far more felt, far more smelt. Smelled.  Maybe it’s the closeness here.  In my old neighbourhood, them houses was big with spacious land to separate them.

When these neighbours here is cooking, (which sadly is not every day), my nose is so glad, it does make me stick me whole face through the window…oooh…get that smell of fish frying, floating through the air, sea wind blowing in a sky so blue.

From the day I arrive here, my nose demand, “Make a list, make a list of all the food!”

Like a good slave, I make de list in the notes section of me cell-phone:

Meat curry in a thick sauce, plenty spices simmering in the oil
Fish frying
Chicken curry from Mr. D. house across the road
Stew beef
Bread baking
Brazilian coffee brewing
Pastry with something rich ‘n’ jammy in it
Metemgee with full-strength coc’nut milk
Garlic bread
Ground beef with tomatoes, onions, shallots, black-pepper
Chicken baking
Chicken frying
Garlic in hot butter

Whenever I happen to read the list, how my nose does giggle with delight!

Friday, August 14, 2015


A Twitter-friend, a brother from Ghana who does call me Big Sis, ask me, "What have you been up to?"

"Proof-reading my manuscript, visiting aunties, tutoring," I say. 

I didn't tell he about the bad dream I had.

One night this week, I dream that I look through the window and see terrible drought.

When I wake up, I remember reading about a scientist crying, crying, for the future of we environment.

Then I read about a mother signing up to go to Mars, leaving she family behind.

And today, I read the news about how big nations might one day fight over who own space.  Yeah, something like that.

From a third world point o' view, Dear Everyone, as far as me is concerned, the entire space-exploration thing ain't nothing but a ego trip. You can colour the exploration with all sorta excuses, you can give it names and say it is for The Sake of Humanity. But the truth is, if we was really interested in humanity, we would be caring for this ol' Earth, we would be feeding the hungry, healing the wounds that war is causing right down hey on Earth today.

From a third world point o' view, maybe the drought done start long time in some of humanity.

Wednesday, July 22, 2015

Home again, home again...




...don't know if is the mould in the apartment lock up for 6 weeks, or the viral / bronchitis that I ketch in Florida, or the asthma...

But anyway, home again, home again...

...I miss dem folks in Florida.

I better go unpack, call me ol' auntie, do some writing work.

I got a book to print, people. 





Sunday, June 28, 2015

The "L" word.

“Auntie, are you coming for my graduation?”

“You want me to come?”

“Of course! I want all my family to be there. Everybody. I want a huge crowd.”

“I didn’t know you like your family so much.”

“I LOVE my family!”

And that, dear People, is how I come back to Florida this year, being at a charter-school graduation, cheering for Imu-Bear, my teen-nephew, plus three hundred other young people I ain’t know to this day.

Because Imu-Bear say that “L” word last year.

Y’know how taboo the “L”  word is these days with cynical strangers. Well, I always imagine cynics waiting to accuse me o’ having melted cheese stuffing me brain and squashed chocolates in me heart.  Seem like that opinion don’t trouble this chappie though.

“I love you,” he say to he younger teen-brother and they hug in the backyard of he home, under the big white tent that afternoon when the sun lay a golden haze across the Muslim ceremony, in front o' family and non-Muslim friends, a soft-speaking, quiet Jew with his beautiful Latino lady too.  Imu-Bear say he wing he speech but, between me and you, I think he practise it for days in he head.

Later, I think about it, how nobody didn’t cough or flinch with embarrassment or make corny remarks after.

It was just so...


Sunday, June 21, 2015

Mango Galore.

Florida brother say people selling 5 o’ these for $1 US.

That is is about $200 Guyana.

But the reality back home is that 5 o' these might sell for $1000 Guyana, which is about $5 US.

If you’re a forriner in Guyana, them vendors might ups the price to $2000 Guyana for 5.

I teach them forinners to raise they hands and say, “No. Too expensive.” And walk away.

They tell me them vendors immediately call them back and drop de price.

You can get them free in me brother backyard in Florida.