Items by dobvious

Devastating The Obvious

• the courtship at mala*

  Posted: July 25, 2008, 2:40 pm by dobvious

  
  

  * due to influences the place is referred to by some  as mara

  The uncles were here in their droves , gobbling  bottles of malted barley that was not so easily obtained from the army canteen across the road and groaning to old tunes that reminded us of the 45’s of days gone by . It was really a good day by their estimations - to get to relive their prime , Nothing could match that . The aunties from the bride’s side were however not in an upbeat mood as such for they could not fathom why there was need for such a discord  .It was now  almost a four hour wait , a standstill that was occasioned by the misunderstanding as to what metric was to be used in calculating the standard bride price of sixteen cows and a bull.

  With the shilling proving to be a rather ineffective barometer some argued that perhaps it would be better to return to the old ways and have a cow stand in for a cow .Instead of having these long sessions of metrics and confusion . Though this proved to be an even sharper thorn in the ankle when another debate ignited as to which breed of cow was to be used. One even volunteered to generously give them in pairs for he knew of a place and a certain pastrolist , roughly four hundred and twenty five miles from there who was more than willing to discard his herd at any price . Some - definately  suffering from the effect of the  froth mess even suggested that a cow be equated to the share price of the recently  public listed company - that way they said they would never operate at a loss since from their investment intelligence they were sure that it was sure to head north .

  Still they could not come to an understanding .

  He was clearly bored by the whole time drag - at this point he wondered to himself . Did he really need all this . Or was he better off in a far away land where all that was needed was just four cows and 4 drums of honey or that place famous for producing   the atheletes of the other kind - two goats and a bottle of moonshine ? .

• the last flight

  Posted: July 2, 2008, 12:26 pm by dobvious

  
  

  the first part is here

  ****

  There is a poster at the regional head offices of the humanitarian helping giants that I cant seem shake off my head . There is a lovely face of an unnamed belle and his potential romeo facing each other . All seems well except their faces are pestered with the names of all the  people they have bedded . A huge blemish to which the normal human eye is totally blind , then the tag goes . If only our faces could speak ….

  ****

  Mash has put out his cigar now . There is a visible protrusion on his fly that quickly attracts the attention of Ma’ Khadija . She moves over to check that there is no contact . He raises his hands and says - you can’t blame me . She laughs -  satisfied she retreats to her corner and motions for the girl to resume her dance as her watchful eye is quickly cast to the happenings on the other side . If there was any contact then we would have to pay more as it would be contradicting the terms of the package .

  We simply knew her as Ma ‘ Khadija ,her sultry voice that would leave the likes of the recent wannabe parades of pop divas miles away in a race did  little to convince you that she was six short of joining the octogenarian club .Were you to try and match her face to her age then again you would fall flat for wrinkles had never graced her face , legend has it that she uses a protein filled milky substance to fuel her youth . How she obtains it is beyond the scope her but sure a subject to be revisited .Ever since the childhood days when we had no idea why our fathers were ever quick to rush to her pub leaving the seven other SD Bars as they were called  by our mothers . Upon reaching the age of adolescence our curiosity  slowly revealed what was a best kept secret something which we are sure to pass to our offspring as well - seeing that in this current age there is hardly any legacy or thing of utmost importance that is bequeathed upon generations save for genetic anomalies and heart disease .

  As time wore out the village and its inhabitants , some of us grew old and married while others tried hands at landscaping the colonial houses to give the village a suburbia feel . Schools were left to degrade as there arose a massive exodus to educate children in academies - slowly they rotted into social halls  and then later to dispensaries funded by a kitty that was funded by the  additional taxes paid to hoodwink us that they ( the chameleons ) were actually working .

  However  Ma ‘ Khadija’s pub appeared to be the only thing that stood the test of time as it did then what it did now . Though not withstanding it has seen its fair share of change  and the recent one the reason why  we are here tonight . The Ethopians .

  ****

  At times when the couch potato syndrome sets in the mind wanders . To a  magical place that rivals Carlton Cuse and JJ Abrams wonder island . A place where time stood still .Like the seven occurance . Here the first magic that captured Peggy and I at first sight still reigns supreme . There are wonderous echoes of the joyus moments and babysteps as we learn to walk and fall , talk and cook , love and lust  all at the same time . A freeze that is fuel to a hope that one day it will all end . There will be a morning soon where they would be no need for the stray jacket .

  Tonight its no different , her  chiselled figure transports me back to that place . To precision her deft moves guide my oggling eyes with her every move, a stare which after five minutes reads of obsession , you would think I am extracting some cosmic energies of her body  . Her charm has me on hooks you would think its a viper being willed upon by the flute of its care taker . The hawk eyes now move closer to see if there is any physical but to her dismay - we are here for what we pay for . She dances  and completes her visual seduction with an amazing leg split at the pole before moving over to Shu .Its then that I notice that  the protrusion that had formed has already started receding . No wonder the hawk flew by - I say to self

  *****

  To the poster , and the opening of the what if pages . If this face was written slow eater , sleep talker , master procrastinater , etc etc . Would she have taken the leap . And if I could have read in hers would I ? . ..

  *****

  Mash moves over with his cigars - care for some - he offers . I pick up one rather hesitantly . I bit off the end only to find a chocolate flavored tip that I don’t chew off - See he says - I tell you , this is the real stuff . I don’t argue with him this time . We blow circles in the air as we watch the three belles weave their magic on a now worn  out Shube . The boy has had enough - Mash says . I think its time we call it even - he says .

  I walk over to Ma’ Khadija who signals for her three imports to retreat - much to the dismay of Shu .  Its just before dawn - I say to him and we have a  schedule to beat - I have to go see that all is well with Peggy , then see the florist , not to mention that the best man needs to rid himself of  his Cuban mess . Alright alright he says as he stretches himself off the divan with his eyes still trailing the three . Moments before they disappear from sight , there is a loud knock .

  The ladies stick around - might be another client as Ma Khadija steps over the front door only to be greeted by the sight of three plain clothed policemen accompanied by a camera crew of the newscaster of choice .

  Is this the place - one officer asks . Yes it is .See there the pole of sin and over there the sinners themselves - as they point to the ladies .  The camera crew is all over the place in no time taking exclusive shots for this  exlusive expose - a sure hit to bring the numbers in .

  Ma ‘ Khadija is lost for words . She doesn’t argue - instead streches her hands out to the silver gleaming cuffs that within minutes brace our hands . Mash manages to say - we should have left earlier but Shu shuts him fast enough .

  As we are frogmarched onto the waiting vehicle our eyes catch the eyes of a man we know so well . In his elegance the master of unearthing the so call ills of the society - Mash reckons - Isnt that .. In the flesh - I say . His face registers regret as he tries to apologize but we march past . Shube says - Its all in a days work my man . Too bad he never followed the ideals of the Minister during his internship - Mash quips .

  The waiting truck has an officer kind enough to help us board . By the look of things its going to be a long night . Especially if we are to stick to our call  of shunning corruption . There will be a grand waiting at the cathedral - Shu says . Make sure you use your one call wisely - Mash tells him .  He goes on but his sound is drowned by the now moving vehicle . Sandwiched between the silky hairs of the two ladies I  let my mind wander again to that place before I wonder if all this is better than a night with my schizophrenic wife

  —-

  from working piece - the last flight 2008

• gratitude

  Posted: July 2, 2008, 10:07 am by dobvious

  
  

  That it has been now 2 , the number of years this space has been in existence . An exception is called upon today as we welcome the use of hyperlinks .

  In the early days the  valiant efforts of the professional tooth extracting wizard and apostrophe cautious lady who now plys her trade where  pidgin English calls home  were mainly responsible for the birth of this blog.

  Also to the generous folk over at Kwani Trust for gracing pages 332 - 336 of their current release  with excerpts from the initial days .

  And to the readership . Though it has been documented that sprinters can never match the stamina of marathoners , it is a hope that one day - the momentum in the opening paragraphs will be sustained well past  the 768 word limit - burst over the four page barrier and  reach to that ever elusive 328 page novel .

• the last flight

  Posted: July 1, 2008, 5:25 pm by dobvious

  
  

  There is little choice, Shube is strict that there will be no housefly attractors at the table. It’s my big day son,  why do you want to keep us busy with fly traps ? .We have outgrown the sugary days my friend . he says - in a harsh tone which he quickly defused with  a hearty laugh .

  The master brewers have an alternative - intervenes Mash, it’s called Navarro or is it - I just recall that it sounds like the name of that foo fighter Dave Navarro .

  Alvaro I say, and how nice you mention the grunge period now - remember our first meet at the catechist class - I tease. Indeed man ! Shu says , eighteen now is it ?  A question to which we all nod to indicating that the time had indeed done a thirteen plus five .

  The malt is bound to have the same effect so I rest my laurels on the Indian Tonic Water. Plus last night’s roast at Anita’s seems to have had its usual toll on the tummy - so relax sir; I have given the houseflies leave till further notice. I venture out to explain to the main man .

  We drown the table with laughter .To mix it up with the thick smoke coming from Mash’s Cuban cigars - though a product of sixteenth street Eastleigh courtesy of the back alleys of an unpronounceable street in mainland china - he swears by the grave of his forefathers that they are authentic Cuban - and what’s more - the original label bears the seal of the top man himself.

  As it quietly blends with the humid night and the laughter dies down, the perfect present for the night is there for the beckoning for Shu - an Ethiopian belle in all her elegance. Draped in nothing but her long silky hair which extends all the way down so she gives away nothing .She winks at me and I  hurriedly and bashfully point to the man of the moment. Shube.

  Better make the best of it man; you know there is no turning back after the morrow. Mash says as he puffs his acrid third rate fake cuban cigar again into the air, masking the indecent lap assault that has just begun. Let’s hit it man - give the man space in this his last night of bachelorhood. As we proceed to the bar. There is music by a blue eyed boy called Thicke - Lost without you - it says, I had liked his evolution release - decent guitar work marred by unwanted hip hop outtakes but then again the music world of late had lost direction.  Concept albums - what the… you know - just drop a decent piece of work no need for film backdrops to guide. Electro influences in nearly every Rubbish and Bin artiste. A glimpse of the future perhaps? No, just give me the Soweto String Four at any given time.My brief daydream into the state of music lasts for two minutes before Mash flashes his hands in front of me and asks - count how many - I say six.

  He laughs - trouble at home. You look lost there for a minute

  Two to be exact - though if I remember correctly there was a sixth finger - right ? . He laughs -  remember what followed after any  reference to these polydactyly limbs - Of course I do - A massive fist . We laugh again . Boy how time flies . And here we are saying a final farewell to this state of single hood .

  I begin telling him about Peggy’s recent lapse as we head back to the table. Shu’s night is just about to get started. By now as if by magic the descendant of the land of Sellassie has just managed to increase the number of her hairy clad kinswomen to three. Something to drown the fears of home, don’t be too hard on yourself such is life - Mash puts it well. And since you refuse the brown bottle then this is the right type of antidote before the nightmare resurfaces at dawn - At this point I can’t agree more - I slip the ring into the pocket and straighten the collar.

  —-

  from a working piece  . the last flight - 2008

• seeking first

  Posted: June 26, 2008, 6:17 pm by dobvious

  
  

  An old hymn echoes all night . It haunts my ears with an eerie likeness of the muted  pangs that are characteristic of an allergy to quinine . The words don’t come right but  I seem to note that it doesnt pain when I hum along . In this there lies a lullaby and it takes me to sleep

  **

  The morning crashed with equal intent . The echo pangs relentless  . Like the calling of the five from a distant imaginary galaxy to an awakening so deep that it could not be fathomed by the bare mind . It pauses briefly as the church bell tolls only to surface a decibel higher . I go out for a walk only to meet Millicent heeding the call .  Hello little brother - she calls out . And in my typical retort I bark back - little brother my rear end . She laughs . What raises you up so early . I tell her of the echo . Why don’t we walk together so that you tell  me all about it . I oblige

  As we walk past the near dead morning of the village it still persists . Only when we reach the corner that leads to the church does it stop - and when it does the words come to me .

• the text

  Posted: June 26, 2008, 5:33 pm by dobvious

  
  

  She was pounding furiously at the small keyboards if in a made rage against time in which if she lost then the sure future of humanity would hang in the balance . Without a single glance  she knew exactly how many times to press before getting the character @ and * . Sure she wasn’t looking for an additive to an email address but rather was practicing kindness in her moment of rage .  In less than fifty nine seconds she had partnered the whole one sixty character screen with niceties and obscenities that could only be the result of her kind - scorned . The full-stop however spilled over the one sixty one mark . She would have to pay more . Two seconds decided that it was much better to have to pay more to the operator   rather than subject the love of her life the misery of having being seen incomplete save for the masks of kindness .

  At that point she also contemplated adding more vitriol but something held her back . An inner voice as her spiritual guide  used to say . It’s god . As she watched the text transform itself into a small envelope and fade away she easily let her thoughts flow to the god , or was it her god .

  *

• lost and found

  Posted: June 9, 2008, 4:07 pm by dobvious

  
  

  Off the desire to keep that doctor away . No apple stories tonight  . To inflation lays the claim that makes a single fruit out of reach . Having to visit the tailor thrice a week to have to confirm that the pocket lining is indeed  in place and that actually the coins never fell off ,  but rather were  gulped down by the growing  economy no longer makes up interesting bar talk , since its a phenomenon experienced by all . Soon the roads might see the carving of an extra lane to facilitate the smooth movement of money in wheel barrows - like the happenings of  the Rhodesian plains  which have over time been raped and  plundered by the obnoxious octogenarian who seems to have mastered the art of redirecting energy yielded from the magic pills to fuel his burning desire to rant at the west  rather than quell the thirst of the vivacious vixen that is always by his side .

  ***

  We have a target of fifteen laps to go . Heavy panting is characteristic of every outing . The finish line seems to be moving forward with each lap .  Fifty minutes later and the shirt is all but drenched in sweat . This will do it for now . The grand  plan of the abs formation will have to be put on a slight hold since the sit ups have  had a field day in tearing up the muscles . Life was much better with the tea pot and swell one pack . The burden of having to chisel flesh to match the neat piles as seen in that cellphone ad is the price that has to be paid for health and beauty and to some extent her pride .

  Some Chinese balm to the rescue as the sauna’s searing temperatures scald the dead skin away and the piercing eucalyptus  stings its ways to the eyes . He is here - Phillip shouts as he places the balm and the owner together . I shout back - she wants the tummy gone too ? .Yes , she says that in two months it would be impossible to tell who is carrying the child .

  ***

  There was a tale . A beauty queen . Diuretics . A beauty pageant .

  The night was spent wisely  by her account . Watching the usual inspirational programs . A health digest with a bunch of four doctors appeared . Someone called  asking about natural alternatives .

  One doctor remarked about the diuretic wonders of asparagus.

  The supermarket had pre processed asparagi . Surely a can cant do much damage .

  Cometh the hour , the lights all set and the music set to play . Just a sec - I have to visit the small room . It will only take a sec she says .

  Seconds later . A general consensus is at first agreed  in a fashion show . Critics , models and artistes alike . Is there a problem with the sewer ?

  ****

  Gazing up at the night sky , wondering just how far the rise will take us too . The night air I am told smells of peace and calm . The recent rains have washed away all the smirk that was or had come about with the brief visit of the demon . Some say he was here in the flesh .  The smoke that visted the homes and farm lands had trails of brimstone as he left the trail of destruction  that he is famed for . But its all now in the past .We have a resolve to build the future as one .

  *

  The three fat fucks have positioned themselves in positions of envy . Spoils shared equally not to dent legacies for those sure to hang up their boots and not to dash the hopes of those who still share visions of miracles and colored citrus dreams . Yet we still walk in mud that sinks us faster than quicksand .

  In rage - there was the famous/infamous quote that strangely enough did not evoke the wrath of feminists . That he was being asked to give them ( the citizens) an anesthesia while they were being defiled .

  We take it in a different slide . That eighty smaller fat fucks chameleons have  to share offices of prestige under the guise of power is the rape . And the  expense - taxpayers money .All put in perspective  that is indeed the anesthesia  that we have to take as we watch by the grand defilement navigate the murky waters of cohabitation .

• a labour loved (lived)

  Posted: May 13, 2008, 4:21 pm by dobvious

  
  

  The toaster has started . He calls out his name and asks them to put their hands together . There is a warm applause from the crowd . We ready our  vocal boxes as we  wait for him to emerge . Pam is a little bit nervous ,she has been on the road before but never before a large crowd than the one on show tonight .We tell her of ways to kill the nerves. Stories from legends  like Sonny’s wife .Who was rumored to be traveling with a handful of studs  in her closet - each well hung and purposed for one thing only , while the rest of the band was taking water during the break it was said she was busy fine tuning her vocal chords and practicing notes in the form of wails and moans that could only be a result of a form of punishment  too crude to be documented here . The key to a successful show she said lay in the girth alone . So there was no guessing what happened to the studs if the crowd ever booed .

  He even has a tradition close to hers - Sue says as she adjusts her wig - but unlike Sonny’s wife - the one who reinvented herself  with a catchy dance tune about beliefs love and life - he does not carry with him two well hung studs and engage himself in an adulterous romp but instead he chooses to partake in the  freshest harvest from Onyi’s farm . You can try it perhaps she says to Pam - it could just be what will make you  tackle  the Handle’s Messiah well when it reaches that troublesome F sharp minor before the  first quaver .   Pam frowns and shakes her head - no thank you she says - let me stick to the honey and lime juice .

  Tonight the potent smell reeks from the trailer with harmonious intent . Sue smiles and says it reminds her of  the days with the Roots . I have never bothered to ask her why she broke the  ties , it had been said that there was a rift between her and the manager’s daughter but upon confrontation she always stated that she had always longed for a creativity break and that she had found it with us .

  Pam taps on the door and he taps back - a second - he says as he emerges draped in the smoke - Sue takes the spill off his hands and  does her routine magic - blowing a halo like smoke after a deep lungful that finds itself atop my head . They all laugh . So what now - you are a saint ? he asks - and just how did you manage to switch so fast from priesthood .  The temporary celibacy vow I take while on the road makes them call me the priest . I say - the workings of the lord are all so ever to be held in awe .

  An amen to that - Pam states as we hear the toaster up the noises -  the crowd is now ready - we hear Ben’s  gentle strums on the drum and Dan’s flirtation on rhythm . The bass is laid next to the microphone  at the center of the stage , eagerly awaiting its weed smoking wizard to massage his usual magic onto it .  It’s time he says  as he leads the way - Sue makes the sign of the cross , Pam closes her eyes tightly - albeit in a prayer to her almighty and I groan loudly -don’t ask why -  it has always worked for me . We step into the momentus applause  . In the drome there are no echoes - a real test in the prowess of vocal abilities  that would even make  the highly acclaimed and best selling shiver in their tracks .

  We take our three positions like we normally do , as his stretches his hands to play . The resonant flick  from the guitar says it all . The night is just about to begin .

  –

  from a long working piece - backup ! -backstage memoirs

• the collect ( incomplete )

  Posted: May 6, 2008, 12:52 pm by dobvious

  
  

  Kirangi states with arrogance – I am 43 years on Monday .  My daughter turned 16 a few months ago so by all means I am nowhere in your confederacy . We laugh . We have gotten used  to his allegories . He compares his conquests in terms of football leagues – relegating us to the confines of the  local mess  while perching  himself atop the European elite – undecided he places himself in the English and Spanish one alternatively as he sees fit – or  does it depend on the  free to air match that  was screened last night .

  Today is no different he takes  the same turn and reflects on his life  through a more secure and albeit grainier  and brazen approach . Beaming with pride he starts again on how he made his riches and we have no choice but to listen to the old man brag .

  Millicent  says that were we to be taking notes then the  greatest story of our dear landlord would be different with each telling .Perhaps we should fault his oral literature teacher – whoever she was for the dude has simply no style . She gives her pity to the children for  having to be content with this type of crap- during bedtime , she calls it the makings of and the birth of an awful generation of story tellers  . If bad luck were to wipe his achievements from the earth then his children will only be left with the pathetic tradition of storytelling and a host of heart diseases - as the greatest inheritance from their folks .

  Apart from the sixteen year old – there is a  ten , four and 1.5 year old . The last he never forgets to label as the hypertension giver. He had this way of having to mix good and bad with almost equal reprieve – a gift(hereafter called the gene ) .He could  tell you the world  of a thing then in the same finishing breathe drape the thing with an equal amount of sneer leaving you to wonder whether its good or bad .Take the case of  the poor soul has ever since his birth been christened with the name of  the saint for hopeless cases  was not enough – the boy had to grow with the tag of being the hypertension giver . He could not just get over the whole  theatrics at the delivery room . First  there was the cause for the Lamaze sessions  then a sudden stop when they saw the digital meter reading 230/110 . Sirens and red light filling the hospital – was it Armageddon – no it was just the beginning of the  cesarean –  and a huge dent in his cash reserves  – He just did not understand why the push could not work – Greedy doctors .Or just lazy midwives .He concluded

  .

  On a sunny day he would later recollect of the decisions to  give him the name of the saint . A long story that in one part had a novena and a brief appearance of the taxman and the briefcase .
  If the time loop theory was ever true or the freeze antics of Adrian Lester and his team of grifters real then this would be the opportune time to reveal how the man made his money . No low blows just the plain truth. Some notes to pass to his biographer should he ever wish to document the story of his life . In what time line – well you be the judge – any now ,alternate , or future . The end game was the same – he made his money and he made it good . The Kenyan had done well .
  A dominant mark in any  version would the Mitsubishi branded in the Gauteng  plates . With pride it  leaves  you with no doubt as who the owner is – KIRANGI 1 . The embassy has no details of him ever being there . In fact the consulate in Jo’burg  claims that it is taken aback when they see him on Newsline recounting his glory days . He must have used Rwandan papers since the name has a Rwandan feel to it says the consulate  in the interview . We normally are very keen to follow on  our citizens  and I can affirm that he has never been on our  records  .Moving on . The Lancer .  Contrary to the legend that fast taking foot in the village paths . That he had paid prime shilling to have them maintained there was apparently a  figure that he was yet to clear – though this was largely kept under wraps – or   did he have something we did not know ?

  After weeks on end  and awful pronunciations of his name by the seemingly angry  inhabitants of Gauteng who could just not fathom  the obsession  the closest we had was the Mormon connection . There was English, Xhosa(or whatever click clack tongue from the south)  , interpretations , translations and  yes you guessed it money and the car . How the mix up was done was anyone’s ball game – after all how many have you had would go back to the chef and asked him how he prepped the lasagna after a tummy full .

  Then comes the daughter – like every father he holds  true  the fact that she  is a virgin and will  uphold the virginity ( hereafter referred to as the status) – till the day he would give her away . Complete with two chariots  and a plethora of those things associated with weddings . After all – what evil could exist in her school – being named after the mother of god herself ( full of grace and sign of the cross  ) .

  While rising to the top of her class  and  influencing the village girls interest in the equestrian sports something which the peace corps workers  were unable to do - she has been equally leaving a  juicy trail  that would serve as a nice arc in any family based drama which due to contractual issues cannot kill off any more characters . It can be argued that the gene is in play here  – In hushed tones  her school mates whisper  on what will happen come the night   and over at Anita’s there rages a debate on whether she was right to give her the object .  In her   defense Anita reasserts    that she is not and has never been the moral authority in the village – she is in it for the money and what more the kid is old enough – don’t tell me you are buying the 16 line too  - . Meanwhile after the mother superior finishes her daily rounds and  blesses every bed and  dims the lights on her way out  . She ( the daughter ) brings it out . The other girls   gather around in the dark yet they see – it glows – she says, and there it begins,-the assault on the status.

  He snaps the brief foray into reality immediately I finish counting the brown notes – ten for the month and the two I carried over from the last – Thank you for your understanding I say to him as his hand outstretches itself ready for the receipt. This coincides with the end of his stories. See you next time - he says - as he immediately finds the door knob ready to ease  out. We bid him farewell.

  Millicent remarks on how strange a character the man is – I can’t agree more – next time give him money at the door. And why would I do that I ask her –anything I should know about .Lets just say that the happenings of Arlington Road  should be a lesson for all .

• chairman of the board

  Posted: April 29, 2008, 1:59 pm by dobvious

  
  

  -  4

  We were to move in on the second of September . That was coincidentally the day we met and also the day of our anniversary . Ever since  the unanimous consensus  was agreed  upon  - that it had - like a milk tooth come of age and there was a need for it to be   removed  -in this case the friendship tag – to give rise to a more hardened molar tooth called  marriage we had changed the way were called each other . This was after the passionate fizzle and  insatiable nights had slowly given birth to the harsh-hard reality that was life .A waking up to an unkempt bush mess of hair and mascara less brows , an awakening to egg shells and mango peels after a Saturday night and the legendary teeth clutter and gnashing . It was then that I realized it had been four months since I last called her by her real name. Which was much much better than the  coochie pies and honey pots that the infant mind had grown accustomed to. What more it rhymed with my surname . A sure ringer on the cards come the day .
  

  After the rather tedious process of affixing the in law suffix to strangers and after the blessings of the aged , who agreed in principal that since money was ever since the  Hucknall  anthem “too tight  “then the traditional would have  hold water till we struck gold.

  In recent times there had been a new form of the rush for the metal . An aging chameleon had managed to transform a virtual market that would quadruple or even in some cases “do your money in multiples of nines  or elevens” .So successful was here in this task that even the most conservative - think of the Sioux and their claim over the Black Hills here , had slowly started giving up claim for their land and warmed up to the market . Any thought of having more money without the toil was a welcome to anyone .From the snowy slopes of the Mount that gave the country it’s name to the  bitter banks of rivers laden with famished crocodiles , there was suddenly no need to graze or till .After all we were in it for the money . So the reasoning goes if  it can be made without breaking a sweat - why not .

  Why don’t we give it a try , she had suggested at one point . Rather than shooting it down in my own familiar self I  found myself agreeing to this  and soon we were in line and all set . If it triples then we would do a full Victorian , horses and the works - she would chide at times , if it doubles then a beach montage would be just fine .

  And so we started waiting for the day to come - with the anticipation of  a born again groom waiting for his born again bride – who due to the nature that dictated their courting process prohibited him from seeing her privates until this day – the day of the honeymoon .

  **

  During the times when wishful thinking clouded better judgment we had hoped to count from back and have it as the day of the first birth . That would mean then intensified efforts come the sixteenth or was it to be the seventeenth of December . Either way there was this grand satisfaction that we each envisioned to achieve were we to make it so . As we held our palms all stretched trying to figure out what the palm reading would make of our fortunes , she reminded me of the promise by the rock

  Oh that I said as I tried to match her heart line with mine . Apart from the separation of our palms it was forming a clear stretched line .

  The seagulls were by now retreating to the reefs or whatever place they had their nests , ever since the bitter pills swallowed in the heart of the break up from Juliet – the Aquarius princess as she rightfully called herself the interest in birds has died down with each passing day . The thought of a return is  quickly quashed by the now good ridden thought of her nags . I smile to myself with the thought of how easy it is to love and lie , forget and trust , forgive and have it all over again .

• grey (4)

  Posted: March 28, 2008, 12:23 pm by dobvious

  
  

  Father’s sister is at it again . Struggling to understand  the whys and how’s this decision has been arrived at .Her eyes have tears .  She says that she hasn’t had this many tears since that fateful telegram from Burma came . How quickly she enrolled to class to learn the tongue of the missionary only for her eyes to read that her then  romeo had taken the early train to meet the Maker . She says that   her prayers had been answered only to be snatched again . Now she calls doubt on the true nature of the  Creator as referenced by the missionary faith . Why , after she had christened the son his name , his name . She wonders again in exclamation by the name of the Makers son . Why . Perhaps its time she goes back to the forest - she points out . This new found faith with all its complexities keeps on making it hard for her to come to terms with the happenings .

  ***

  In typical teen nonchalance Mercy confesses that she doesn’t know the responsible party .  Some told me that the prophylactic  reduced the joy and at times the smell of latex made me want to puke , she reports . So I can’t really tell , she continues while biting her now overgrown nails .

  Is he gone ?

  I tell her yes . Where to sign ? I show her . Good - she says . Do you think I will get the exams ? No , but I have already spoken to the headteacher . Says they will take you in the second term

  Thank you , she says .

  They ache , I know , got you some valium here, that should take away the pain . The sister also says that you empty them .

  Mmhhh she grunts as she falls back to sleep .

  *****

  Its much more than the wakings up at night . Unfair . Just think of what would have happened to you if Mum did that to you . This is different .She can’t even remember who was responsible  how do you expect this bunch of naive to become a mother . Why do you want to take my name again . I made the call . Surely what  space will that baby occupy .Within no time we will have someone to send for salt and matchboxes . They are expecting our call . The instructions are clear , no breastfeeding , to ease her pain she would have to express it . Its a tough call .But  the best decision for all . You and your new found freedom generation , cant even understand or comprehend the gift of life .

  *

  The handover  goes on without a hitch . I note an SUV parked outside .Inside there are these two gleaming faces . Unlike in Diablo Cody’s well rehearsed take on the subject matter they show no traces of a plastic smile . She  touches the dimple and tears fill her eyes . One would think they source the tears from the same duct as father’s sister . He on the other hand offers his hand in thanks. From what is to be gathered he is stepping forth into a good realm - I think of the boy .  Four years we have waited , four years , Oh Glory be to God . The man starts exalting his Maker .

  I step back unceremoniously , my task is done . The balancing act  . One broken heart , two elevated souls  a disillusioned teen and one young one  . These are indeed the ways of the world .

  It has been a long day , lets stop by Anita’s for some ginger roiboos. - Millicent says as she  brings the car to life . You’ve been here all this while , I ask her - Yup ! she quips ,just like your shadow . I smile .Deal I say - to the tea .

• placeholder

  Posted: March 25, 2008, 4:16 pm by dobvious

  
  

  In his memoir as he lay wait for the death to come take him , Tabitha’s husband mentioned in passing about the mark  of greatness in the studded field that we find ourselves in . That the recognition would only come in the face of owing up to the power company what came from the work of your hands . Else anything else would spell doom for ambitions .

  **

  Millicent quivers at this - suppose she uses she sun or a lantern . Where will the dues be paid . Will it follow that she will not be able to bask in the glory .

  ****

  The night’s  calm is pierced by the sudden noise from the typewriter . Fitting in between the crickets silence it does not take a frequency but rather it goes on and on , only pausing for a moment to think . A harmony  displaced the bats soon find that their peaceful fruit eating retreat is interrupted by this mechanical mess that does not seem to shudder at their sonic pitch . Soon the night is filled by this rather unruly symphony . The click and clack from dear old Underwood , the un mutated relatives of the vampires with their pitches together with  the mating cicadas and crickets . It it was during the rainy season the without a doubt the frogs would have joined in .

  At last the torrent doesn’t stop . A flow of constant has its way through and the papers almost cover the floor . At the end of each line the cranking up of the  manual carriage return gives a rather orgasmic and refreshing feel . This was the  missing link .

  ***

  Eight hours past , there still was no change . The nurse had made six trips so far . Two two him and three to the high powered executive who I heard  that was suffering from a dislocated hip sustained during a round of golf . Now how does that come into play . Was it a case of a high profile 360 swerve , or the unlikely occurrence that the events following yesterdays after party were too much to bear for the aging hips and that any grand shift would in this case bring him here . It wasn’t so hard to place the social status of the inhabitant of room number 3 , already there were three flower vases full and a dozen of get well soon cards not to mention the constant  hummer of top range motor vehicles . The  last trip the nurse made was to see me .  In the usual sense  her eyes gave her in . Anything I can do she asked . I hesitate before blurting out the obvious . Yes . Pray with me .

  ***

  Everything and anything  from the past flashes past. So this is what they mean by the word nostalgia . Time to indulge again . Bring forth a world with no thesaurus or any form of spell checking . This does engage the eye and filter out any from of mistake . Not like the ill formed tenses that come forth from programmed word processors . To a mistake , the white out checks in .Senses brought back to life by a squeezed sense of high  To an  out of place paragraph then the  play is all but redone . Hours to fine tune after which the “-30-” falls into a relief  place like the sun drained fields of the desert welcoming the evasive short rains .

• one word

  Posted: March 20, 2008, 12:10 pm by dobvious

  
  

  The cursor blinks with intent .  Seems it has mastered the by the second disappearing act . Looks like it has in its mind a taunt . See if you can catch me .

  Thirty six minutes and the blank stare at the screen is still being met by  hemorrhaging  blank thoughts . There was this grand idea that was fabricated last night at the bus stop . Yet no word on how to start the first paragraph comes up .

  The lack of activity sends the screen to its well earned break , a flag like window  manifests itself  in the middle before breaking into pieces only to re manifest itself in smaller flags . The iteration continues for sometime and soon the whole screen is filled with the flags .

  I envy the creativity  engine bequeathed to  the soul that  had  this vision . It was not far off from the one I had . Well crafted paragraphs and weighted idioms , catchy phrases and fancy one liners .Classy words to the envy of any computer powered thesaurus . It was the one to get it off the mark . A vehicle to take us there .  If only  we could get past the stones …

  These stones were  the  cause of the constipation .

  ***

  The Sunday  deadline passed without the expected fanfare . The window by now was  minimized and other things followed . This embrace of technology another stone in the shape of distractions .Pop ups and flashy banners  .Not to be blamed for wanting to get that extra inch . Perhaps a return to the basics will do . Agenda items for next week . 1 . Dust the old Underwood Five and or 2. Buy a ream of foolscap’s and ink for the fountain pen from Anita’s kiosk .

  

• asking questions

  Posted: March 19, 2008, 11:39 am by dobvious

  
  

  Having eyes fixed at the short stemmed skirt at the sixth minute of the interview was something I had envisioned minutes after walking in . And her  continuous graze upon the testimonial and updated cv lifted off some  engineers site of the net left me with very little to do . Her wall had no clock but a mural which later Millicent would tell me was worth much much more than the figure I had floated as my projected monthly cheese take .

  In between the entire sixteen minutes she had engaged  in enough mmhs and okays not to mention the shift in her sitting positions , at whatever angle the view was captivating . at one point her raised eyebrow nearly caught the sight of the eyes trying to get a peep . She smiled and repositioned herself .As I hurriedly looked for something to engage in- sanitize the eyes from what they just saw , a picture of her boy when he was two . Thanks to the birthday cake photo .

  Impressive I must say - she begun ,as she pulled herself into position on her desk . Says here three years in Guinea and two in the Cameroon . Your French must be well polished .And here it says  Lead Project head for the Gray  Initiative . You  are quite the guy .

  Hiding behind a blush  I humbly accept her complement .

  And whats more , says here you do speak the national language … How well I might wonder she  poses .

  Well enough to craft a paragraph of two .

  That’ s nice , she goes . My adventures into that language are however not that exposed , The best I can  do if fuck up tenses like these politicians on a TV interview .
  We both laugh

  So maybe I will be teaching you a word or two.
  Most definitely  she goes again as she piles the papers together , my associate will be getting in touch with you tomorrow to fine tune the details of the project .

  

• the parting of ways

  Posted: March 11, 2008, 10:56 am by dobvious

  
  

  When we hit the jagged road our  ears breathed a sigh of relief , for more than thirty minutes the journey  was characterized by the  loud screaming of a female voice who according to sources was    partially deaf and had four years ago served to conclusion a  stint  in prison .Her  music if it could be termed as that was a mere interpretation of the words mother and fuck  coupled with several inflectional suffixes to the tune of synthesized drums and a throat irritating bass line .

  ****

  The sixteen year old girl next to me has her lips all synced to the lyrics, you would think a neo rendition of Morvan and Pilatus in their hey days . Her lips stop when she notices my intent look. I smile back , understanding her position seeing that I was in a similar place roughly fourteen or sixteen  years back  .Unlike her modern day freedom which  made it easy and open to indulge in the  broad of day our past  was more conservative and the radio would have none of it . Thanks to the omni present bleep that made the unfriendly to radio friendly to complete bans we had to feed our addiction through other means .

  ***

  With the sugarhill gang and simmons revival   finding us in our toddling prime and having missed the Grandmaster Flash light we fell full well into the anger revolution.

  In those days the vitriol being poured was to some extent more potent than the one being consumed today . The anthem of perpetrating the act of that word again (fuck ) to an arm of the law perhaps the shining example  to the degree of rot if you may .  Yet naively we embraced it, unknowingly elevating the misplaced poets to near mentor ship and cult status .  Weekends had us cobbled at Kageshe’s place by then the only safe place where we could consume the weekly dose of the music vids dubbed weekly over the same tape . The aspirations to be like them, dress like them sound like them and even be them grew  by each minute as we watched the realizations of  words . 

  And so it followed that it became our culture . The sixties and seventies were best defined by theirs why would it follow that we break the tradition . We were barking dogs when the call came ,cats when the need to please the masses arose .  and even unforeseen incarnations as bones  when the collectors  called , among a host of a myriad of characters that when envisioned we became. Like shape shifting mutants off a marvel Comic book .

  Slowly her voice fades , I stop the hand reaching to  the player . Let it be I say to her . Bashfully she retreats . In comes a slow beat dubbed over what would pass as a synthetic remake of the one who two years back had a Dancing wish with his paternal kin granted. These tunes take me back to the memory lane as the head  finds itself bopping to the swift beat , a trip that is rudely interrupted by that voice

  Is it her greatest hits collection I ask ? No she says with a bit of confidence but with untold suspicion still evident in her tone ,perhaps wondering just when did dad develop a love for the art .  Reading her mind is all but easy as through time i have mastered just how to interpret how  the eyebrow movement had a connect to her thoughts . I smile back .

  It would have to go back to sixteen years ago , I begin  as I break into her second sentence . Not fair she says . I apologize  in earnest as I beg her to start again . She confirms that is just a release to mark her tenth anniversary with the record label . The hits release is slated for the fall . I nod with a rather its nice to know ok .

  The murrum patch clears just as the third track is setting the pace . Almost unknowingly  I find my head nods to the head ringing beat as it transports me back to the place before the grand separation took place . She notes and laughs , Dad ! she says since when did you dig that .

  As I was saying , it was sixteen years ago . She pulls herself up and notes - well what happened her voice all dressed up in an eager thirst .

  And I begin recounting the love affair through its up and downs .  Masking the escapades that changed the lifescape  forever .Promising though that in one of the coming days that too would be laid bare .

  Before long we start seeing traces of white and blue - let me off here she says , I will walk the rest of the way plus I see Anita over ahead we have some stuff to  talk about .

  Be sure to brag to her about your aging hiphop paternal mess - I shout as she slams  shut the door . Will sure do she echoes with a beaming smile  . As I watch her strap her bags and goes back to the institute  i am filled with a unfamiliar sense   pride . A couple of meters ahead she looks back and waves cheekily . Staring time is over . I revive the engine and start the journey back home

   —–

   excerpts  from the largely incomplete piece - The Hiphop Divorce - 2007

  

• how high

  Posted: March 11, 2008, 9:31 am by dobvious

  
  

  Enough to have grown men fiddle with talcum powder and its affiliates just to make sure that the dampness does not cloud and turn innocence into something similar to a burn .

  

• raw

  Posted: February 25, 2008, 2:54 pm by dobvious

  
  

  Her arms welcome the relief that is leaving the stray jacket to the glorious midday warmth and humidity .
  They glance at her from a far , murmuring what they would outside these halls of justice shout at the top of their voices .
  A dejected and torturous frame is all what is left.

  A crowd that was gathered since morning suddenly springs to life on this sight . Ready to capture everything unadulterated .
  The cuffs are the last to go as the warder lets her take the final steps to this freedom .
  Onto my arms as a crush hug takes place .
  The answers to all the questions come into place .
  It was never that there was or there will or would be .
  She was my lover .

  

• evening comes

  Posted: February 25, 2008, 2:44 pm by dobvious

  
  

  Through a series of careful sobs  a daft delivery of feigned emotion is on hand ready to serve an intended purpose  .
  To move
  And the choice not to use a handkerchief to dry those or the ill intended tears that which would corrode the hastily applied makeup .
  Closer to .
  This decision , the decision , a decision
  That would have to change the current thinking tank as we know it .
  With precision .
  Deft precision , as if  it was a heart being stabbed
  Each cry moves a juror closer to a tear .
  By wonder it plays as if she is a puppet master at ease with jerking tears of the ducts of the twelve .
  And the words do well to accompany the incoming wail
  Like a grand  symphony orchestra
  The loud wail comes in with the testimony and plea of innocence .
  A Coup de grace of sorts  .
  The final blow.
  With the elegance of a conductor in this position taking a final bow .
  A head raised to
  Reversed applause
  And this hidden chuckle
  That the con is complete

  

• grey (3)

  Posted: February 5, 2008, 11:16 am by dobvious

  
  

  Talking about the victor , her phrases are wrapped around idioms and archaic similes .  Some words do pass by as she  resonates in the true way how they(words) should be pronounced. Complete without the undue influence of the queen’s language  and the corrupted accents brought about by the wanderers .The ever troubling w  and the almost forgotten gh , capture the very essence of the language sometimes sounding as if she has embraced   a foreign tongue .  but knowing how she rebuked the forces that harbored the nature of speaking in  foreign tongues and stood steady with the belief that the gods have always been in the caves ,  we persevere  knowing that once the sentence is complete then the message might become clear .

  

• grey (2)

  Posted: February 5, 2008, 10:55 am by dobvious

  
  

  That black is a measure of youth and white a signal  the end is near . Then her  hair will object  most certainly object to that theory in the strongest of terms . Without any aid and religiously cropped after every  falling fortnight  , it has seen it all come and go .Never even once has a blemish of the difficult to explain color  visited her. It shines brightly as she sits on the patio to bask in the morning sun . And if theories are to hold true , she will be here for a long long time .

  

• grey (1)

  Posted: February 5, 2008, 10:25 am by dobvious

  
  

  Father’s  sister is at length trying to understand the why and how . In all her   years  everything has been white and black . From the war to the rebellion . There has always been a clear cut distinction . Good and bad . Like the men of cloth said .Now in her sunset and octogenarian leg of life , trying to explain to her that between the white and black lies a hue  that is a  mixture of the two  just serves to complicate matters .

  

• another agnes

  Posted: February 4, 2008, 10:46 am by dobvious

  
  

  The bitter January  sun has seen her shed the overly long black robes  to this white  outfit . A heat that has everyone changing  in a struggle to find bits of comfort .Fortunes turning on  Anita and her bale of  short sleeved mitumba shirts and sleeveless tops . Past the glory days of  the expensive camera selection . Just when she thought that she would have to “donate” the dead stock to the multitudes of the needy . Unwillingly she (Anita)  contributes to the unwanted sight of overexposed dirty and sweaty smelly armpits masked under the banner of deodorants and  antiperspirants  .Dusting the pew careful not to soil the linen she readies herself for the session .The procession enters just as she is about to sit .

  ***

  The two mothers debate was agreed upon to help ease the pressure . The sea and the lake . Not that the  order matters . The slopes and the hills. To kill two with a single strike .  The lake and the desert .Never though was it thought as a mode to curb the population . As the father’s sister had tried to imply .Then why mix it all up .She had asked , you still have the youth in you ? To justify in reasons that made little sense  to many and her sworn commitment never to bear this hell again there was perhaps the only lifeline that saved her for the strike of the blood thirsty machete  .

  ***

  The round table again . The sweeping white linens cover everything in sight .Time to bring on the   silence again . A question about country 46 to break off ice, no mention of the earlier pew observation as the roiboos aroma rents the air

  

• identity

  Posted: January 31, 2008, 10:06 am by dobvious

  
  

  Some engaging debates rage on as the afternoon gives  way to the early evening agenda . By head count the number is twelve  , six less so a refund is in order . Tones vary as each tries to blend in with the other , hardly strangers though by sight this  is the first meeting .  A an informal call to order breaks the babel like noise .To an invitation for some formal identifications .

  To the left , a clear cut profession  and to the one after another  shining career example .The other - just the face is enough and to the other other , being responsible for three art exhibitions has never been a slow feat .

  Onto the racing heart and eyes falling , past the name  comes a stumbling silence , similar to the one that had her leave after she asked if she was truly loved and by none other than me .

  Are you a writer  ?

  Art  never was a strong point , mother gave up after wasting her nails trying to wash of paint that was intended for the walls and paper but found its way to the shirt .

  So yes , that can fit a description . Though in the light of day  crimping cables  gets us through .To scrap through the dusty confines  of the neglected server rooms or equally dusty wall trunks .Or risk it all atop a rusty one fifty foot mast .  After that comes the hits and sometimes overlooked prose . Disjointed thoughts and misplaced parts of a grand narrative that in hope will one day  leave a mark .

  Next , the other other continues with her descriptive writings about the famed athletes, and so too does the other other till the circle is done .

  

• blind

  Posted: January 21, 2008, 8:41 am by dobvious

  
  

  You look worried , he says. The phrase  is out of your skin . Why do you look out of your skin sir ? , he asks , careful to correct any grammatical errors that might be brought upon by the effect of the brown froth he is  sipping  .Here -  pulling a seat , the big game is just about to start . I’ll take a pass - I say quickly , there is somewhere I have to dash . Nothing too serious I hope , NT quips in .He has been too quiet ever since the Malawi trip , talk about perspectives being put into place .  Nothing , just that I have  been under the weather these past few three days . Well your seat is here he says .Make sure you are back in thirty minutes . Sure man I say as I make a dash for it . The number  appears set to dominate for a while .
  

  ****

  It rained today .Heavily . The drops pelted the tin roof with fury  . Just a little after midnight .Eight hours .No worries nonetheless . Spark or the lack of it thereof .The big one . Anticipation and /or fear .

  **

  The court house  is on average deserted on Sunday ,aside  for   few monkeys  always  spellbound  by the  holder of the scales of justice at the entrance  .Days on end trying to ape this  balancing act  .The big one , perhaps the leader of the troop watches carefully as the playful ones do the acts .The females watch from afar as well , taking time to groom each other on the grassy patch just up ahead .

   Two convicts complete with their zebra uniform tend to the grass on the other side while their watcher  keeps a keen eye in between a hearty conversation with the cleaning lady ( a presumption )

  ***

  The  diary is becoming lighter ,this habit of tearing pages two days past helps to keep some perspective .  Two month and it will be another empty  cover .A year gone by .The big three 0 in all its glory .A reason for all this .No two three words about it . Its hard to try to mask the rush against time . So projections , bridging the time-space continuum if only for  this moment .Fifty and twenty being the best  on the table else back to the present the  favorite uncles tag look to hang around for a little long .

  There is water on the waiting bench ,must have found its way during the yesternight-todaydawn torrents . Handkerchiefs wont be enough to drain it ,the warder has to be interrupted from his now almost - I’ll  will sure give you some once you wrap up your  job - conversation with the cleaning lady (a fact ).Since she materializes a mop with quick haste and returns to where she left the talk  .Two quick swipes and  the handkerchiefs come into play . The warder nods to one of the zebra clansman to come  pick the mop .He is a reserved being something which he was not before the cuffs braced his hands .Learning to be  a new man was not easy read the expression on his face as he picks it up .The trailing eyes of the warder return to the prize conversation once the mop is in its place .

  *

  So to this . A quick set of questions and permutations  .Delusions of a form called grandeur .To cross legs or to sit straight . To offer a hand or raise an eyebrow. Blink . Catholic or Charismatic ,  . Communion or Sacrament .Sunday .Rap or Hip-hop , Addiction or dependency .Soul mate or life partner. Love or Hate .Convict or prisoner . Like some preacher man trying to convince a pretentious congregation without having to bear the burden of contradiction in the afterwords.   Something to give or take ?

  

• Rash !

  Posted: December 20, 2007, 4:16 pm by dobvious

  
  

  One .

  Surprisingly there was very little difference between the then then and the present now , despite some rather valiant efforts to dye the grey  beard hairs , first there was the heena . Big mistake , coupled with the tea leaves that were supposed  to make it last the  morning bore a stench that would only be fair is it was compared to goat shit . No kidding .A linen massacre that was never to be repeated . And more reason for  the cleaning lady to seriously question the goingons after the lights  went out

  Then came the black magic .From China the box said . Tried and tested . No wonder them chinks never age . A perfect choice . Goodbye grey ……  as the  magic was generously spread to banish this what  was trying to take our youth .

  And welcome closed eyes . For while it did take it our the face did not take it well . A swollen face that  would have you mistaken for a native were you to lets say happen to be teleported by some mischievous force in the midst of Chinatown .

  Through burns and lotions to pills and diminished libidos the never ending quest to have a grey –free head and beard appeared to have  been doomed to never succeed . To thoughts of crossing the bald avenue .To the grand ambitions of having to study the behaviour and growth of human hair with age on Phd  scales . Anything to have the spark of youth  kept in its place forgoing all the side mishaps that came with it . An obsession that after fifteen years looked to have finally paid off and come of age . Come the hour and for them to see .

  She stood ready with the briefcase at the door as she watched him pull up to the curb . Break a leg sugar ! she said as she dumped the  now teen ambition into the back side .

  A deep gruff of definitely will echoes back as the  car windows draw back . The breath of country air replaces the fresh lemon dash in  the car as the engine powers its way past the green gates .To new grounds finally .

  She admires  as the rather harmless smoke billows from  the exhaust . In equal measure comes a thought . Like alchemy . She laughs but most importantly she is,  happy for his dream .

   

  

• washed away

  Posted: December 11, 2007, 1:58 pm by dobvious

  
  

  Rahul  stands upon a rock and gazes at the setting sun . A simple wind raises his hair , he looks over . Its time . The waters of the Ganges seem to be moving at last , the current to carry him home has finally arrived .  Carefully the urn cap is detached and the ashes flow . His loud tenor chant has the local pause to pay their respects . The scrawny little boy over by the bank wonders why mother has suddenly stopped the bath . The trout wonders where the fly wandered off too. Approximately six minutes later it ends . Silently life  ebbs back into the river and we begin our journey back home .

  

• for strangers

  Posted: December 11, 2007, 1:31 pm by dobvious

  
  

  Michael , is it ? the question comes in . A sure nod  to indicate that there lies some truth in the name . 17 more I count as I hand him the welfare card and subject   my eyes to the busy urban traffic across the window . At these hours thick vehicle smoke make the town look  7 while the sun has still some  16 minutes on the clock . To have the basic needs met without having to break a sweat . By extension these promises make it look like a sound bargain .He takes 5 to clear  , so we will catch the evening news .

  

• on grief

  Posted: December 10, 2007, 11:31 am by dobvious

  
  

  There is nothing you can teach me about grief ,except maybe how to control the pitch of my cry . Not to generate a banshee like howl but rather a heart full wail - to paint the picture of what is hurting inside . Jane Mwanzia’s mother had to understand - a morning of sorrowful anguish from a distorted call to disregard the gains of yester years .For the rush that was to capture a ticket back to the house of slumber and a bountiful monthly pay off . At any means . To this we dance to a rather off beat tune conducted by several disjointed choirs - the cacophony intensifies with an equal amount of mess . Sandra lets the tide destroy the lovely sand castle she built . She reasons - with the recession of the tide - fresh shells will be washed to the shore . Bigger ones too - somethings about firm foundations ,and in hopes  she promises to build a better castle  .

  

• new neighbours

  Posted: December 4, 2007, 12:03 pm by dobvious

  
  

  An agony that is - unlit corridors and untold stumbling . This grand welcome makes you question if ever any form of the word devolve might find its way into the daily vocabulary .Simple attempts at sharing on this primitive scale fail now to try to extrapolate them on a grand scale . In efforts to complete the move at the first day of the month . A condition that will have to be accommodated for the duration . A need that the world sees as a positive move - in terms of growth and capacity and a painful drain on the contents of the pocket . Like all the rituals that preceded it - a hope for better after the pain is gone makes it worth to bear .

  ***

  Distorted or improvised .In some words make-shift , this is what we can manage . For the roads - lets make do with dusty paths - or if the generosity of a wanna be politician happens to find its way down here - laterite roads . Manicured lawns - I give you shrubs of unknown weeds which the village goats drifting off the nearby slum supplement their diet with . Street lights come in the form of the new moon and generous stars or sometimes a case of wandering shiny planets .

  ****

  A breather . Somehow one of them knows you . You used to date a sister who quite conveniently is out of town or they cant reach - so they believe . Or you were with them in primary school but you were too young to notice . Either way they know you . The hushed tones as you pass by attest to this . The only visible connection between this our version of suburbia with the real one we see on TV . A break today - they chat away as soon as the corner is in sight . The size of the bed a mighty obvious talking point .

  ****

  New neighbors . Note the missing ‘u’ . Influence already . To forget the lavender gardens with this stench of sea breeze/ human sewage will need to get some - getting used to . Yet there is some peace here . Echoes tell of the emptiness . Inside and in some sides . Thick walls make it hard to visualize what the long haired lady from the second story could be up to at night . There is a green light coming from her bedroom . Surely this will be too dim to read with .

  

• damp

  Posted: November 26, 2007, 6:21 pm by dobvious

  
  

  In the  shame that was to be and cast in history as a public sham and insult to  the living’s intelligence  the farce came and went .

  For those who understood the call or were felled by mischief  in the hands of those who bore a financial might  - better luck in the next .  To those who refused to heed the call , please insert  your own choice  of word - courtesy of this expletive directory .

  The true nature of the chameleon analogy coming in full effect even before the term begins.

  **

  Like  a defeated pack of wolves , we tuck our tails firmly between our legs and begin the slow and bitter walk back home . The walls around us  still have our dreams but  the swift November rain will surely wash them off . Suddenly the farm workers have a heap of T-shirts to work with . The mop manufacturer will sure count his losses for  the house helps discover just how well the 100% cotton T-shirts absorb water . A true mockery of what was to be a just cause . To make the best out of every situation . Still wounded bulls will drag their carcasses into the fold , no matter how bruising the battle was . In the living hope that the spirit will live and fight again . For a win .

  

• exit signals

  Posted: October 15, 2007, 5:49 pm by dobvious

  
  

  Millicent scoffs at me again . I don’t even bother to look at her , preoccupying myself with drawing in the sand with my toe ,we are at our usual observatory having the now weekly rundown of all the mischief that happens to have passed by . By now its clear that she will laugh and scoff any additional word I say . So we let the silence step in . She eyes me sensing that I have resolved to keep quiet .

  After a ten minute lull she speaks up - the silence . to what shall we compare it too .

  Like the brief shock that welcomes the soon to be mourner waiting on the bed of one who has seen Gabriel’s light .

  Or the sudden shock that greets the home team after a sound drubbing by the tail enders .

  And like the legendary pin drop silence during the high school assembly session .

  Better still , the vow taken in earnest at the covenant - something you relate too - I tell her

  No this is better she says - Perhaps we have it like the two distant lovers.Meeting during the easter break . Or if they are lucky - public holidays which fall on a friday or the super sunday . Sharing a brief moment of silence while catching their near lost breaths before they indulge in loud and well deserved mother and god calling sessions .

  

• parity

  Posted: October 11, 2007, 6:22 pm by dobvious

  
  

  For someone I had not seen in a long while the hug was justified . In between the time I saw him and he outstretched his arms and the time the hug actually took place , a surge of emotion and excitement of seeing him again after all this while had the bp scaling to 180/120 mmHg , some tabs of atenolol should bring it back to normal should it stay there for long , I thought to myself .

  Damn man , your heart sure beats too fast - he said .

  Well I have it under control now , with the meds and the diet , all is fine .

  Are you sure ! just take care it doesn’t conk out on you when you are in the process .

  It wont , unless I start fiddling with the azure pills - I say . …..

  ***

  Her facial expression bore it all . The careful morning makeup was all but washed away by what lay in front of her .Leaving behind the facial lines that held her age and were always covered by the makeup mask . Her pulse sure enough to have the little heart start showing off my newly purchased digital sphygmonometer . Her mouth dropped wide open like if she were a lip syncing artiste who was greeted on stage with a guitar and live band after the curtains parted .

  There was no need to offer any words .

  All was gone and what was left a gaping whole .

  Tears started forming as the realization finally found its way through .

  ***

  The minister looks to have shaved off some six or seven pounds , the cream robe pressed hard against his stomach by the simple winds as he disembarks from the plane lay claim to this . In his typical fashion he will never fail to find an excuse for this . My best bet will be Ramadhan but we can rule out the chances of a mite like mistress who keeps him in check with a myriad of exercise . He casts a quick eye to see if there is anyone there to welcome him back home . The grunting of the old KAD lets him now that there are some friends who will still stick by him in any given weather , hurriedly now he drags his bags and walks across . Taxi Taxi they shout - . He walks past ignoring them in the same breath that the president ignores the daily plight of the squatters on his way home .

  The old lady is revved up fully now . He tosses over his bags into the open back seat .

  Did I miss a thing he asks

  Hows London - I ask

  Calm and busy as usual he answers back

  Well you are just in time , the alignments have started , our animals busy fine tuning their newly acquired colors , we should be in for a very colorful finish . I tell him , the creaking gear box interrupts the bull on parade riff .

  When is Morello coming back he asks

  Don’t know , ever since the slave died some ears have known peace .

  Well , thats untill your gearbox came into being .

  Silly - I retort back as we easy onto the highway ..

  

• a morning of choice

  Posted: September 14, 2007, 1:14 pm by dobvious

  
  

  between
  fresh jacaranda or an artificial lavender blend
  the cream ceiling or the open sky
  rough soothing linen or mildly dewed morning grass
  laid back jazz or chirping garden birds
  filtered lights or the gentle rising sun
  here is a morning of choice
  on just how we make

  

• detachments

  Posted: September 14, 2007, 12:15 pm by dobvious

  
  

  for us to think that this would last forever
  we must have been
  a)dumb
  b)stupid
  c)naive
  d)over infatuated

  for them to imply that we were meant for each other
  they must have
  1) never known us in the first place
  2) felt that time was of some essence and feared that a generational name would soon be without a heir confused
  3) been hungering for the wedding cake and the other bitings that came along

  for us to agree that after all this was a friendship to keep we were surely

  i) crazy
  ii)
  iii)stupid(again)
  iv) insatiable or maybe just too horny

  

• not like this

  Posted: September 13, 2007, 5:19 pm by dobvious

  over a  dull dirge
  and November’s lifeless night
  a solemn moon hangs above
  friends and family stroll in

  two three tears as it goes by
  feigned or real doesn’t really matter
  multitudes evidence
  facts about the person

  gone
  the smile and warmth
  another gap in this now big gaping hole
  we still call life
  empty spaces that can only be filled with names and portraits
  memories

  from my hiding place
  i see you
  brave face and all
  the wound still reeks the same misery
  thats why i find my place here with the bats

  nothing has changed
  even the
  to reach out to you in this hour of need
  shame and past hurts surely cant count

  all is forgotten if only for this hour
  and your holding arms open into this shoulder
  that was once your rock

  a bond
  reestablished for just brief seconds
  resonates soundly after the parting
  to the all so familiar tunes
  of wishful
  thinking

• concentrate

  Posted: September 10, 2007, 5:09 pm by dobvious

  In a space frequented by many - artistes and wanna bes alike , have beens and the home of one hit wonders . A struggle ensues . There is a want to leave this place and to roam again freely . To have the fingers do their regular quickies on the keyboard , to have the nib dipped over and over again into the ink pot to satisfy the endless surge of creativity , to have walls sucking in varying hues of paint as the literally possessed eyes transforms the colors from the brain to create a heavenly site . A distant place where what ifs precede everything , a darling comfort zone where you are forgiven for any mistakes that you make that are harmful to the state of whatever art you are in .

  The excuse parlor . Run to this should your creative juices come to a grinding halt . No need to have strange explanations , experts say given time everything changes and with such naive thoughts you lay wait for the next surge of the juices . No need to result to weird undocumented cases of having subsequent orgasms or having to paint murals naked in the middle of the market . Just sit still and invoke these words in times of crisis . Like an exorcist calling out the name of the savior to banish a demon or an adulterous diplomat calling out for immunity just before the knife of the jilted husband soothe his jugular vein . Peers will understand you for they too like you have been guilty of using the same before .

  Alternatively if it fails , try a little spice . And expletives and nudity as per your art form . Nothing excites a boring read than the letter f used in the word that rhymes with duck and suck . Case and point in the snake instance - imagine how dull he would sound like with a plain reference - “I’ve had it with these snakes on these planes “.Add the mother and our duck word - albeit with the f in front and you have a pop reference . In the right context they serve like a parachute opening up 50 feet before the crash - suddenly the nonsensical piece you wrote is transformed to this all so wonderful breakthrough in what you do - all critics and losers alike line up to review your work .

  Should all this fail you can just take comfort that your fall from grace was just a case of the writers block refusing to bulge . Keep hope alive and pray to the rain gods to send down torrents of rain that will nudge it all away and open your mind to the creative might that once defined you .

• a second coming ( incomplete )

  Posted: August 21, 2007, 10:17 pm by dobvious

  Belief is a beautiful armor / But makes for the heaviest sword /Like punching underwater/You never can hit who you trying for /Some need the exhibition / Some have to know their trying…… john mayer/belief / continuum / 2006

  *

  Someday it will all pass , a visionary belief fuels the fire that one day the queen will lay fallen and the throne will be bracing for the next one to ascend . That one will be me.

  *

  Undecided between fire and water . Red and Blue . Some things are amiss in this state . Happiness and bliss at the same time . Bits of abulia will read in the neurologists report .

  Flashbacks

  A score of hauntings .

  It continues .

  ***
  Her mother’s sisters words came in reassuring and more so they served as the perfect elixir to her bruised ego . To quote past greats who excelled in similar positions was good news for the cause . And nothing could cap home the thought of acceptance from such quarters - she thought . Were it not for my brave acts then auntie would still have me in that group she thought .

  ***

  Nerve damage - complete loss of sensation to the left but the right one will be fine . A series of surgeries should have it up in no time .

  ***

  Such acts were to be equated to treason . In this land where justice was all but neglected she would walk away free and whats more - rewarded . The disgusting decisions of a man bequeathed as a judge . Following the satisfaction of his loins.

  ***

  Tales of extinct bird. To keep hope alive . To have the flame burning and the hope high - that someday and in whatever fucked up variant of justice . It will be served to the rightful person

  ***

  A journey complete

  And it has been a tough one

  Part Gothic , part sad , part happy

  To edit the horrific parts , hide them from the reach of children

  And showcase the triumphant case

  Of how Dad was won !

• untitled

  Posted: August 10, 2007, 12:32 pm by dobvious

  The Mr . title gets to me . Somehow it reminds me of those dark days when the generations past had to endure a lifetime of senseless yes sirs . Given a chance I would have it removed completely from my name . No need for prefixes to tell them who I am , after all we have passed the identity crisis bit and now the definition is much more than just hair.

  ****

  Dearly beloved , we are gathered here ………

  As the piano music begins , the mind does the detachment , to remind itself of the Roger’s Nelson classic . In here after all has been said and done . Tears shed and bouquets caught . It will be indeed a case of the two people going through the thing called life . Snapping back just in time - to slide in the ring amidst ululations from the crowds

  *****