Browsing newspapers Saturday morning, the ad barely ketch the corner of me right eye.
"Are you between the ages of 14 and 17? Would you like to be a CHEERLEADER for HIV/AIDS Messages?" Next to this is a sketch of a gyal with thick ponytail. She heavy limsie, that is, bangs...cover one part o' she face, the other half smiling young 'n' sassy.
I am rocking in the handmade rocking chair in the verandah; is the kinda day when people should lie under wide, gnarly ole trees by the sea, wallow in salt air and...
...and waitaminnit...cheerleaders…? 'Cheerleaders' is such a strange word to associate with HIV/AIDS - nimble, nubile lasses with skirts so short they barely cover free matinee, way heyyy they jump, and ole men dash aside they walking sticks and long out they tongue, and young men can barely make they body behave. But who is me to talk, I ain't know nothing, only what I see in them foreign movies, and I could be wrong.
And I could be wrong and they gon have boy and gyal cheerleaders, thin, plump, long hair, short hair, dreadlocks, gyals in hijab, gyals uncovered, teens with legs, one leg, no legs, boys in rags and boys in drag, after all Aids don't discriminate. Only people do.