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.  

Thursday, June 18, 2015


To all Muslims fasting, I hope this is a good month for you, safe, full o’ love, togetherness and peace.

To them who can’t fast, we can still remember the less fortunate. Cut out some o’ de worship of material things. Donate time, money, skills and goods to people who need. Share knowledge.  Pray, say thanks, be kind.

Judge less. Learn more. Love more. Give more.

Live in peace more.

De whole year.

Tuesday, June 09, 2015


Way down the East Coast in we long, country-side wooden house, we-the-children useta race wearing socks, sliding upside-down on the polish-wood floor. 

We play king and serfs, hide-and-seek and war-break…


Mammy would stop we to torture we.

We had to drink a-terrible-tea.

A small tea-cup o’ warm-hot water and a li’l scoop o’ de-very-dark-and-terrible-thing.

As soon as she turn she back, floooops, down the sink mine did flow.

But today, this self-same morning, in another land far-far away from that li’l village, I make meself a cuppa this tea.

Man, it glide down me throat and fill me belly like bliss.


Go on, laugh, turn me to any object of mockery, call me Donkey Hotay, I don’t kay, that’s right, I don’t care. One day, you gon agree with me.


Dear asthma,

How I hate you!

With all me heart, I hate you.

I know, they say hate is a bad thing and all o' that.

But asthma, I hate you.

Because of you, I can't breathe around smoke like normal folks.

Because of you, too cold temperature does make me bronchial tubes get all closed up, but people don't understand.

Because of you, I need to stay away from colds, flu, but how to make that possible?

And now, here me is in Florida, supposed to be enjoying meself...sick with that hHHoRRrible thing going around.

I don't even have the energy to write a long, deep and meaningful, well-crafted hate-mail that would make people weep.

So asthma, I hate you totally, completely, with all me heart.

Monday, June 08, 2015

World Ocean Day, June 8, 2015.

Dear Everyone, 

Happy World Ocean Day!

May you have plastic-free, people-poo-free seas flinging up liquid diamonds, 
And salty-brine splashing you cool in sunshine like warm, white wine;
May you enjoy underwater gardens with corals and anemone that grow and glow, chemical-free,
And not shrivel-up thanks to cement and paint flowing from shore to ocean.