Nancy Pelosi

I must admit, everytime I hear this name, I have to look around me. I don't know why I do that but I have tremendous admiration for this lady. For those who don't know, Nancy Pelosi is the California Congresswoman from the 8th district, who is now, the Democratic House Leader. Imagine Hilary Clinton and Nancy Pelosi running the berth for the White House...
Did it sink in yet? It would be a strong pair. Tough one to beat too, at least that is what I think. Anyways, that is not the point of this post.

So, who voted during the midterm elections a couple of weeks ago? Did you? Oh you didn't vote? Are you kidding me? I won't hold that against you but read
the King's One Week Later and tell me if I am over reacting.

D, two words: Spare me!

It has only been a week! Maybe we should give the Dems more than 12 years to see if things really turn around. Did anyone notice the gas prices go down by almost a buck just before the elections, and now, they are almost back up to the price it was at 8 weeks prior to the elections? Did anyone notice the slump in the Stock Market?
Voting may not have changed much but at least some who have loved ones in Iraq-Bush’s war to reap Iraq of its oil- may actually have a chance to spend New Year’s Day with their loved ones.
I hate to be this direct about this matter but we have to realise the power of a single voice. Without Martin Luther's single voice, we won't have some of the privileges we now enjoy, albeit limited.
Things don’t change much because of a mentality like the one expressed by Chuck Gillespie (fictional) who would go to the polls and check all Republican or Democratic names on the ballot without even stopping to think that he has lost almost a million dollars in the stock market, the value of his house has drastically decreased, and they are now more vulnerable than ever to die in a terrorist attack even before 9/11. But again that is democracy-government for the people, by the people and with the people.
Things don’t change either if you would adopt the mentality being expressed in this post. Don’t get me wrong, here because I do validate your logic here. But you may not have noticed that things changed because you may have actually contributed to things being that bad by not voting at all. Your high school Alma Mater may now have metal detectors because you failed to go vote on gun control years ago and maybe your vote could have swung the decision the other way.
Voting is the only human way possible for your opinion to be heard. To have the right and not exercise it, I think you should be taken to the guillotine. People died to secure that right for you and me. And still, in many parts of Africa, Cameroon for instance, people don’t have the right to vote or they are allowed to vote but the elections are stolen by the incumbent, just like Bush did Florida in the yesteryears.

My view that not voting should be treated as a capital offence may be too fundamentalist but I see no reason to have the right to vote and not exercise that right just because you don’t think you would make a difference and then ONE WEEK-only one week- after the elections, you come out fluttering, pointing out how things haven’t changed yet. The Dems took over the House of Senate and Congress. They did not take all executive power from the Reps yet. Senate and Congress can enact laws, etc but the Head of State can veto any one of them.

One vote, one voice is a powerful tool. Had Nelson Mandela not stood up in defiance of the Apartheid system in South Africa; that country may still have been under the worse form of racial segregation ever known to mankind. Your vote may not have counted because your candidate lost, but you never really would understand what that one vote could have done had it come down to just your vote in order for your candidate to win.

...ehr...Marriage...

Excerpt from Laleyio.com:

A newly circumcised female will wear a headdress of small hanging shells. This symbolizes her passage into adulthood as either engaged or free to marry. Males may approach a family with gifts as a sign of interest. Some females are promised as babies to males, who continue to give a family gifts until [the girl's] circumcision.
After a dowry is agreed upon by the parents and the groom, the marriage may proceed.
The groom arrives at the bride's home with a male companion (best man) on the appointed day. He walks the bride to her new home. Her belongings are packed and she is colorfully decorated. in the traditional wedding apparel from head to toe.
As she exits the home, her father and a member of his age-set bless the marriage by spitting milk and honey onto the bride. The bride makes a slow passage away from her family home. It is [believed that the bride risks turning into stone if she looks back at this point].
Along the way, her new husband must make sure her journey goes as smooth as possible.
Upon arrival the new bride is teased by the other women of the household. Here, the bride will also receive cattle until she is satisfied. Cattle become the property of her husband.
The new bride will not share sexual relations with her husband for at least the first two days after her arrival.
As a symbol of being married, a woman will wear a blue cloth along with her other pieces of clothing.
A Maassai man is allowed as many wives as he can care for. He is the head of the household. However, he lives in a separate home from his wives and children.


I was asked three times two weeks ago whether I ever planned on getting married. I actually was scolded by the third person, who seemed upset over the fact that I am not yet married. While I must admit, I couldn't hide my embarrassment at this unbridled abatement of marriage, I still did feel happy though they looked at me and thought I'd be responsible enough to get married at my age.

As you probably guessed already, I am Cameroonian, which means polygamy is legal in my country. Culturally, marrying more than one wife depicts status in not just wealth, but other things. The fact that a man can handle the needs of more than one wife is admired greatly

among the traditionalists. In the modern world today, this is an abhorrent act of disrespect to the female gender and in most parts, people serve prison sentences for it.

The picture below is that of a Cameroonian man with his wives. If you go to his compound, there is a main house in which he lives and a string of houses that are built in a circular mode around the compound. These women have their own children in their homes with them and each woman has to cook for him everyday. He gets to taste everyone's food and women take it personal if he dares to say he is too full to eat all the food brought to him. He must taste it. No questions asked.
I usually wonder what it is like for him at night. Is there a schedule of whose turn it is to perform the nightly duties to satisfy their man sexually? But that is beside the point. I kinda feel the unity amongst the children is probably impecable as all children love their dads. But that doesn't mean they are not faced with their challenges.

My thoughts? Well, Marriage is the same whether it is to one woman or to more. The way I look at it, most married people cheat on their spouses anyways, so it is just like polygamy although the other partners don't know. But then, there are the faithful ones and that is where I come in. I like the idea of having just one person to love and cherish. It'd be sad to be laying in bed alone during winter season, knowing your spouse is next door warming up another lady.

But again, that is just what I think!

...So I was thinking...

that I have not posted in a while.

I was thinking that

Today, I'd like to start over
Just flip the pages and start all over again
See if I would make the same mistakes of old.
I would like to go back in time
And make right what I spoiled.
What I chose to ignore,
Douse with my attention.
I would like to go back
And say I am sorry even before wronging anyone;
The lover I hurt, I would console
Caress her gently while I fed her grapes.

Today is anew
at least I would like to think.
Today is a re-beginning of sorts
I know I should reignite the spell
that taught me love was real.

I shall be a fine husband someday
My dad was.
I shall make a great dad
My dad was.
I shall love my kids
My dad did.
And cherish my wife dearly
My dad did.

So I was thinking...
that I love you

...The Way You Make Me Feel

(dedicated to the lady from Massachusetts)

You make me feel special,
You make me feel new,
You make me feel loved,
With everything you do.

Everytime we are together,
It seems like the perfect place,
And when I hold your hand,
I love the shimmer that lights up your face.

I love the way you can make me laugh
For absolutely no reason at all.
I love how no matter what I do,
You will be there to catch me when I fall.

I just want you to know,
That even though we sometimes fight,
I will always love you!
No matter what, day or night.

...9/11: 5 years after

On 9/11/01, I was laying in my bed in at Dryden Hall, Eastern Washington University in Cheney, WA when my mom called. It was about 9am Pacific. She instructed me to turn on the TV and to my dismay and utter horror, I was spell bound.
Two planes had hit the World Trade Center, another plane had flown into the Pentagon, and another, headed for the White House, had been wrestled to the fields of Pennsylvania. I have always believed this last plane had been shot down (reason why nothing was really ever recovered from it) but that is another story.

Today is exactly 5 years since this barbaric act of terrorism was waged on the US and most of the world and although it may seem dim to some people, watching the videos or many documentaries airing on TV this week has a sobering effect that adjectives fall short of depicting clearly.

When I watch the tapes of the events, especially the one that just aired this Sunday morning @ 9:30am on HBO, I remain glued to my sit with my fingers clenching down so hard on my seat that I can hear the fabric moan from the effect of the pressure exerted. It is only understandable that after such a horrendous act of war Bush et Co would want to go after Bin Laden, albeit that they have turned the tide and deviated from the mission at hand, to a war in Iraq, amongst other things.

Afghanistan

Although I never really understood why the Bush administration went after Afghanistan, I still think Saudi Arabia would have been a better stage to wage the war on terror. Nine of the hijackers were Saudis. Bin Laden himself is Saudi. Saudis are the proven supporters of terror. They hate US guts and have often been two-sided in their policies in support of the US.

But Bush and his administration made a case for Afghanistan and went with it. They targeted the Taliban, stating that he did nothing to eradicate Al-Qeada in his country. Hmm... come to think of it, the US had provided Bin Laden and his network (Al-Qeada) all the armor and might to fight of communism two score decades ago.
My comment is that they never actually cared if they caught Bin Laden. Bush had to make it look like he was doing something to fight terrorism so he could usher in his evil plan of taking over Iraq's oil.

Iraq

Bush may argue as much as they want and even offer as much bogus information as they want to justify their attack on Iraq, but it was totally uncalled for. My reason. It is very clear that invading Afghanistan was a great idea but that mission ought to have been completed before ever considering another target. Bin Laden had not yet been found but Bush really didn't care.
The United Nations and the G8 except for Britain asked Bush to hold off. But he won't listen.
The CIA offered intel revealing that Iraq had no connection to Al-Qeada but Bush still won't listen.
You actually already know all of this information but you chose to vote for him one more time.

Anyways, I would like to remind everyone that the effects of 9/11 are still very glaring, especially when you consider the actions of a C-grade student heading the greatest country in the World.
One fact that remains is that 3251 children now wake up and go about their day without their dad or mom.
3475 people from 83 different countries died on 9/11 from the WTC and Pentagon attacks.

Say a prayer for them when you have a minute.

...So My Birthday was Yesterday!

I would have preferred to post something else but for the randomness, I will just let my fingers run.

Yesterday, September 6th, I was officially a year older and a year closer to my grave. After all my years on earth, I have come to realise that:

1. I have never had my car keyed by an angry ex. Guess I just never dated one crazy enough or maybe my car is already messed up so much that it would hurt their key, were they to try it.

2. If you are what you eat, then I am fast, greasy and cheap, but sometimes sophisticated, exquisite, expensive and quite stuck up.

3. I have never had any awkward looking purple pimples or sores grow on my manhood.

4. I am very good looking and 99% of the people I know and meet daily will second this motion. Seriously though, I look beautiful!

5. I abhor all books that start with 101 ways ..., 101 things..., and all in the category

6. Paris is probably the most beautiful city in the world and Seattle is probably the most beautiful city in the US. Dubai would probably be in my list but for the many robes the dudes wear!

7. Investing in Africa today is probably the smartest thing to do.

8. I will actually take a bullet for the One I love.

9. I am easily amused.

10. I fantasize about winning the lottery but I never play.

11. I like to plan almost everything except what comes out of my mouth during an argument.

12. I love Fox TV shows

13. Koffi Annan is probably the most multilingual person I know

14. It is OK for men and women to talk all day as long as it costs $4 for the first minute and $1 every minute after that.

15. I really would think twice about going to heaven if they had no soccer.

16. The Redskins will not make it to the playoffs this year.

17. I think pain is another way of knowing that you are still alive and that life still sucks.

18. I still don't get the bleeping effect on TV. FCC should be shut down!

19. I love God

20. I am going to be a millionaire!

...What is your greatest fear?

"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented and fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small doesn't serve the world. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others."
Marianne Williamson, in her book, A Return to Love: Reflections on the Principles of "A Course in Miracles. Quoted by Nelson Mandela on the day of his inauguration in 1994 and also recently used in the movie, Coach Carter.

I will be a year older this September 6th, and to tell you frankly, I don't know whether the next year will be much different from the past two score and more years I have been on earth, and that tears me up. I don't know what to expect. Something I have wanted so bad in the past three or so years is soon going to become reality and I think I may not be ready yet! It sucks and I wonder whether I would have actually accomplished anything when this becomes reality.

I am afraid. Very afraid.
Fear what the world has in store for me.
More so confused.
The confusion you feel
when you simply can't understand why.
Why things are the way they are.
Why you do certain things.
Why you say those things.

I am afraid. Very Afraid

that I have many more obstacles

to overcome.

I am afraid

that I may be overwhelmed

And forced to pull over.

I am afraid. Very Afraid.

I am frustrated.
Frustration
because I have been patient enough
3 years and still no response.
6 years and still no major 'accomplishments'
I am disappointed.

Disappointed in myself
For the things I have done and said.
No wait, I feel responsible.
Accept responsibility
For the things I have said and done.
I hardly regret anything,
And carry with me lessons learnt.

I wait unerringly
For a chance to pass on the little I know
The unbridled yearning to start my own family
To be the solution
to all of my mother's problems
to all of my family's tribulations
I will work harder
And reach my target
I will not forget God.
I will pray
For guidance.
Cherish his love and mercy
Hope that I get there in time.

...Errh Hemmme Helpe is onde way

It is true they were warned but Dayum! How can you see your own country men and women going through this and not lend out your help? ...Oh come to think of it, they really didn't care!

These people took initiative and started walking. Can you imagine how much walking they probably did, before getting out of New Orleans?

Oh yeah! The top story! Black people looting grocery stores, while the white poeple are finding bread and soda! Tell me if you see bread in the picture below! Please!

...One Year has gone by,

but the pain is still being felt. KATRINA, the hurricaine, left an indelible mark on the state of Louisiana, and parts of Mississippi. The storm, the Leveés, the pretensious response from FEMA and the Federal Government, the flooding, the many people stranded(mostly black in skin color), the allegations,the looting stories, the Mayor cursing on TV, the Astrodome, the many promises for assistance, etc. The list is long and I am sure we could talk about this for days.

Now, that the hurricaine hit and our poeple have been ignored by the Dub-Ya Administration, what do we do? We need to pull together and remind everyone that Katrina's aftermath is being felt even as I write.

Although I personally don't know anyone who was affected, I had the chance to talk to someone who owned a gas station in New Orleans, had taken pictures of the water coming up to untellable heights, and was rescued by the Coast Guard... of course he was white!

The people that felt it most were those that had no way out of town. Press conference after press conference, the re-elected President of the USA, His Excellency, Dub-Ya repeated the words: "I thhink, ..eh..hurh.. F FEMA is doing a darhnn goode jabb! We halve tacken ...hurh..ehhh..m ehh hurh measzhores to make szure ...ehurrhn.. that help gets to the victims."

And so the victims waited.

As they waited, they got hungry! They went to the vacated grocery stores and the media said the black people were looting while the white poeple were looking for food. PLEASE!

Yeah, help did come! ehh... ehurh,...emm... almost two weeks after the hurricaine hit. And the help wasn't intended for everyone!

Then there were those who were stranded on their roof tops. It is reported some actually died there waiting the errh...hurh....ehemm... help that Dub-Ya and his FEMA partners promised.

So brothas and sistas, pray with me that the issues plaguing the black community in the US are erradicated for good. Pray that when the storm comes again, we be ready to face it. We already know who our tax dollars go to help, so we cannot actually count on the Feds or FEMA. Blank promises never come with blank checks. Let's stop the black on black violence. Stop having fatherless children. Stop dropping out of high school. Stop dealing drugs to our own. Stop all the mess and get a grip of your lives. Don't throw it away cause the hurricaine is anxious to ferry them away!

Sorry for the haphazard nature of this post. My mind is just flailing right now! God Bless!

...O Father Where At Thou?!?!

August 15th is celebrated by Catholics worldwide as the Solemnity of the Ascension of Mary into heaven. As I sat in church last Tuesday, I noticed the mass servants were young girls. In the traditional Catholic Church, it is unheard of. Heck there are still parts of Cameroon that adhere to the rule. Forget the chauvinistic observation here, but Jesus was a man and women really never were mentioned in the Bible as parable-tellers, teachers in the synagogues, etc.

So my psyche started asking these questions about whether ten years from now, we will hear the young ladies come forward that they too were molested by Priests. Nah! That’s not possible, I thought to myself hinging on the fact that Priests were usually more interested in young boys anyways! My seriousness at examining the issue I was preoccupied with drew to a close as it took a humorous turn as my mind started going feral with presumptuous foretelling.

But this issue of priests molesting little boys is noteworthy: pertinent enough to have caused the Papacy to call a meeting in 2003 in the Vatican to discuss the issue. Between January 2002 and September 2003, about 230 people reported abuse in Boston alone. The Boston Archdiocese paid out 98 million dollars in lawsuit settlements causing it to close the Catholic charities foundation and bringing the archdiocese within a hair of bankruptcy.

The Catholic Church has been plagued with a number of issues lately including but not limited to priests involved in illegal activities, priests molesting children(boys especially), priests fathering children, and worst of all, priests covering up these atrocities. Until now, priests were sent to retreats and then reassigned to different parishes when an an allegation of molestation came up. And it is believed that the church would then intimidate the victims into silence. But because so many people started coming forward recently, and even sued the Catholic Church in the US, everyone involved straightened their neckties.

The recent uproar on child molestation accusations by the clergy has led many people to question the church’s devotion to celibacy in the priesthood even citing it as the direct cause for the abusive tendencies most priests have. For fear of sounding blasphemous, I will level my discourse on illustrations drawn from commentaries on the subject presented by more informed people.

Biblical Context
1 Corinthians 7:32-35

Indeed, I want YOU to be free from anxiety. The unmarried man is anxious for the things of the Lord, how he may gain the Lord’s approval. 33 But the married man is anxious for the things of the world, how he may gain the approval of his wife, 34 and he is divided. Further, the unmarried woman, and the virgin, is anxious for the things of the Lord, that she may be holy both in her body and in her spirit. However, the married woman is anxious for the things of the world, how she may gain the approval of her husband. 35 But this I am saying for YOUR personal advantage, not that I may cast a noose upon YOU, but to move YOU to that which is becoming and that which means constant attendance upon the Lord without distraction.

Need I say more about these verses? Although there are other verses in the Bible that infer the direct opposite of these verses, it is rather clear here why the Catholic Church chooses to have its priests in ‘constant attendance upon the Lord without distraction.’

Celibacy isn’t the Problem
by Cardinal John O’Connor. (Taken from Friday Aug 18th, 1995 Edition of “The Irish family.”)

The article by Cardinal John O’Connor ends with the vibrant three words that stirred me to shudder. “GOD WILL WAIT!” Cardinal John O’Connor didn’t mean that God will wait for you to believe in Him before the last day. He certainly didn’t mean that God will wait for you if you are late in showing up to heaven. He simply meant, God will wait for the persons devoted enough to take the vow of celibacy and join the priesthood.

…God's time – [we] will be bursting our seams once again with joy-filled healthy celibate priests willing to make the sacrifice. God will wait.

In responding to the unremitting media attacks on the Catholic church’s stance on celibacy for priests, the Cardinal points out that priests are just like other men, who are trained to be less sensitive to bodily desires (amid other things) and be able to defy the temptations of diversion to their vocation. He recognizes that it is not easy for the choice to be made and that most priests seem to be happy with the choice they have made to be celibate and become agents of the Word. He also reckons with the fact that some priests that regret their vow of celibacy, are usually readily dispensed from priesthood. And these are things he far-too-well knows and has dealt with, and also recognizes as part of human nature.

The picture of the ideal priests' marriage is vividly painted in this stern retort bringing dust to settle on the issue of the idyllic marriage. People cheat, the Cardinal points out, so what makes us think that a priest getting married means he will not succumb to the temptations and consequently eliminate promiscuity in the ‘sexed’ up society we live in today. This readily goes to dismiss the faulty assertion that if priests were allowed to marry, paedophilia will automatically be a thing of the past, he argues. “Priests are no better than millions of married and single people in the world,” he purports.

Commentary

The idea of celibacy in the priesthood has often been argued to be the individual exertion of the last pontiff, John Paul II. But the idea actually dates back to the early church that formed after Peter. If you consider that the Pope was Peter’s direct successor, then you must expect for him to marry since the Bible clearly states in the gospels of Mark (1:30), Luke (4:38), and Matthew (8:14), that Peter had a mother-in-law. Yes you heard it right! Peter was married. So why do his followers not marry?

Nonetheless, our world today is not the same as it was then. So, arguing that priests should be able to handle temptation isn’t an easy undertaking. The truth is that, if priests were allowed to marry, they will suffer lots of meltdowns primarily due to stress that by and large are not good for any congregation. Imagine having to watch over your family’s affairs and then handle your God’s work in your church. Seriously it is just too much! Reverend Camden in the WB’s famed TV Show, Seventh Heaven is a clear depiction. But then again, this is open to individual interpretation. Seventh Heaven is just a show, and usually Rev Camden handles himself well enough to withstand the pressure of crumbling. Also consider though that he has undergone heart surgery as a direct result of the stress he suffers.

Stress is not the only reason, if priests were to marry, soon, the Parish will start noticing the parish credit card statements having charges from Saks Fifth Ave, or Tiffany’s and this will cause derision because although most men can stand to their wives faces and say: “No! I am not getting you that $3000 dress!” there are also some men that will get anything for their wives even if she wanted the Statue of Liberty in their bedroom. You know where I am going with this… No smart comments! I know of the church of Jesus the Messiah Nebuchadnezzar Bethel House of the Lord Christ the King Worship Kingdom that crumbled cause the pastor embezzled church funds for his mortgage payments, bought a Cadillac and opened a bar. There are many small churches that are evidence enough for this.

Finally, I would like to say that all I am expressing here is pretty close to speculative discourse which leaves room for variant reaction and results. Each person is designed with free will and if the Catholic church’s tradition is that Priests don’t marry, then we must accept that we will not marry if we choose to become Priests. Tradition does not change with time, hence the reason for tradition being a custom i.e. doing something the way it has always been done. We cannot choose to go into priesthood knowing fully well that we are not allowed to marry, and then start lobbying for the sacred calling of the priesthood to be changed to something more soothing to our desires. Humanity is built on tradition and I will stand for tradition always! Change comes at a price and priesthood is not ready to handle celibacy yet!

...Public Enemy Number One!

So as I sat in front of the TV relaxing, I let my mind drift into temporary castle building mode; I picked up the remote and stumbled upon the show called the Flavor of Love 2. Not only do I detest the concept of the show, the idea of that many more or less ladies or shemales throwing themselves at some 50+ year old man who wears a gigantic clock as his necklace is far less fathomable than Hugh Heffner and his three inflattable dolls

That aside, the number of girls that come on the show to provide more evidence of the white man's backyard notion of "black people are crazy animals" is just appallingly unforgivable. How do you comprehend someone with an MBA in Education (I am sure she probably meant Master's degree in Education-don't hold them to it), would come out and debase themselves on national TV the way they do? There are the girls that drank so much they couldn't stand and slurred every syllable they afforded to utter; there was the girl that beat an innocent white girl up over a bed in a room with twenty-something beds; there was the typical loud black chick who shat on herself...not on a turtle, on herself!

While I understand that generalisations in cases like these are a very touchy subject, I would like to offer in my defence that a cross section of the African American Community is guilty of this kind of behavior. We carry ourselves in a way that denotes ghettoism to its best and the few of us that seem to carry a good head on their shoulders get shunned for adhering to the white man's standards of proper manners.

When are young men going to understand that there is more to success than becoming a ball player or rapper? When do you make the teenage girls understand that being a video girl is not a career goal but the fastest way to the grave? How do you cultivate the idealogy of not limiting yourself in your children? What do you do to make sure your daughter doesn't end up in a street corner, scuffing the earth for what dirtbags are willing to pass on some infectious miscreant virus for a couple of bottle of 'gnac? How do you make sure that your son doesn't think of passing out little bags of Colombian produce on 14th and K St and calling it an enterprise? How do you ensure your community stays in a positive guise rather than take giant leaps to its doom with each new birth on your street?

Things of the sort happen right in front of our eyes and we chose to look the other way. Why? I ask. Some reading this today would be tempted to classify my thinking in the likes of Bill Cosby and offer menial arguments like you just don't understand. Well, there is no reason good enough for any human being to limit themselves. While it is true that there are external reasons, call them whitemanish forces working to keep the black man in the barn, we must also realise we are not doing anything to target the internal devils we have. The devil that will make Tyrone shoot down a fellow nigga brotha because of a scuffle over who drank his apple juice. The devil that will tell Lil Ray Rae that pawning off his sista, Shenika to unknown miscreants for hourly wage is good and healthy for her three fatherless children. Oh yeah and 10 year old girls saying that they are gay! Lawd...You can complete the list.

I point an accusing finger to athletes and rapstars that young African American men and women idolise. They come from these types of communities and the majority of them leave it for the NBA, NFL, MLB and never look back. Those that make it in entertainment even go on to tease you with their success. They taunt you with songs about thier million-dollar homes, their thirty car garages, sea of private jets, the ice they have that didn't come from refrigerator, etc. I have never been able to grasp the concept of someone pouring the contents of an $800 bottle of champagne on a troupe of scantily clad ladies in a song that tells of you needing a girl to love. Do you really need a car for each day of the month? But this seems to be the consistent themes of music videos nowadays and we accept it. So the next finger I have is for you, yeah you and me! We actually make our children aspire to be like these people.

We chose to remain in these conditions. How else would you explain that a girl that was brought up in baby momma fashion ends up becoming a baby momma herself actually breaking her mother's record? Why I ask?

We need to rise and see what beauty lies in our kind. We need to learn to value each other especially within our community. No matter how busy poeple are, parents should always have time to check if their kids did their homework. Talk about school and see what difference that makes in your kids. ... Please go to Dr. Phil or Oprah for all the advise needed, all I was trying to do is point out a malaise in the community I have come to love and cherish.

"Any transition serious enough to alter your definitaion of self will require not just small adjustments in your way of living and thinkgin but a full-on metamorphosis." Martha Beck.

...Nostalgia or just a Momma's boy?!

I don't know if I told anyone this before, but I last saw my mother on a warm humid night in 2001. She had hugged me and cried and told me to be careful. I kissed her and held her tighter than I ever did before. When I finally let go, I smiled uneasily and told her I loved her and turned towards the Airport ticket checking tunnel. It was at Douala International Airport, Cameroon. June 24th.

As I went through the final check point, I could hear her sobbing away. I felt weak and wanted to run back to her and tell her how much more I loved her. How much I will miss her. But I had to make this flight. It was the last one leaving Douala that week. Had no choice but to board and off to the Seattle, WA I went.

I talk to my mother at least twice a week and most times, it is like we were sitting at a table together and reveling in the sweet munificience of Yaounde's warm and humid weather. The nostalgia I feel usually is more than I can handle. Some nights I barely sleep just wondering what she may be doing at the time, since because of the 6-7(depending on Daylight Savings) hour difference it would be day in Yaounde, where she teaches Secondary school kids some French.

Most people talk about the things their moms do and no matter how heroic they may sound, my mother is my rock and foundation. Oh and she cooks better than your mom and can beat her too!

I have been told that early on a Sunday morning in September, about two score and three years ago, my mother was 15, lying in a hospital bed at Hopitale De La Caisse, sweating profusely and screaming at the top of her voice, while listening to instructions from some Morrocan lady in a white overall to push me out. And after about four hours, emerged my large head, immediately followed by a skinny body covered in what many English adjectives fall short to aptly depict. 11lbs 19inches were my measurements. Little Fatso!

Amidst this, my mom had to return to school to finish up her education. It wasn't until I was in High School and after four more trips to the hospital delivery ward that my mom was finally able to go to the University, where she earned advanced degrees in the Queen's and Molliere's languages and then shipped off to Advanced Teacher training School.

My mom had been bethrothed to my dad at a very tender age-true African traditional style. When she had me, I doubt she knew how to enjoy the process of making babies yet. Nonetheless, my mom stood tall at a very young age and took care of us like no other.

A month after my 16th bday, and 4 days after my mom's 31st bday, my dad died. Her world was shattered to pieces and I knew my world had come to a screechingly abhorrent halt. I grew even closer to my mom. We were all heartbroken and I knew I had to take over the batton and be the family man, just like my dad had done or at least my mom told me to. Not long after that, my mom lost her own dad and her elder brother, leaving her alone to fend for not only her own children, but for her siblings.

Life had dealt her a rough hand, she had attempted to bluff but the flop didn't bring good news either. She was already all in and was hoping that the turn or river would fix her up a little. NO! it didn't! She has since then been struggling with all of us and me coming over to the US was great relief. Like in most African homes, having a child abroad means that at least, some of your problems were readily taken care of. Through my mom's endless fight, my sister earned a visa to go study in London, one of the two or maybe three good things that had happened to her in half a decade.

I write this story for a reason. Although I cannot get into details of what exactly my mom has gone through, I thought this was a pretty good implication of the tribulations she underwent when she lost her husband, the only man she had grown to love and count on. I respect my mother and above all trust her with every ounce of my existence.

For what she has been through for my siblings and myself and for lots more. Call me a momma's boy but my world revolves around my mother. LOVE MOMMY and LOVE HER LOTS!

So they said...

So they said...

They got in their ships and sailed around the world.
They got to the land of my forefathers,
So, they said they discovered the dark continent.

They saw the gold, ivory and iron.
They liked it,
They wanted it,
They needed it bad.

Tall, dark and strong, my ancestors stood,
Toiled and sweated all day in the plantations.
They needed that man power they saw.
They bribed us with wine, beer and guns,
So they said it was trade.

Their brothers and sisters each wanted a share,
The outcome was the scamble for our land.
Sacred land, whose riches incessantly they reaped,
They fought amongst themselves.

Greedy beings.

The big war they brought into our peaceful land,

After the war,
They shared amongst themselves us like cake.
A part of me in Nigeria;
The other half of my soul Cameroon.
So they said it was colonialism.

They got ashamed of their actions,
Or was it the mosquitoe that saved our land?
Their people they retreated,
Left all their land for the sell-outs.
So they said it was independence.

Our economy still depends on them,
Goods we produce cannot compete in their markets,
They tell us what to produce, when to sell,
They dictate the price at which to sell,
and to whom we should sell.

They crippled our economy,
Sent in Structural Adjustment Programs,
The World Bank and International Monetary Fund.
To ensure our dependence on their goods.
And they say we are HIPC's or Heavily Indebted Poor Countries

Goods that come from our resources,
They continuously reap from us.
Pretend to know our problem and offer a fix.
They have stolen everyday.

Rounded up our best resources and ran off,
Our men now toil and sweat to no avail,
Our land afraid to bear fruit since the vicious rape.

So they say we are underdeveloped countries.

Some of our men now act like them,
Reap what they can of the left resources,
And ship them off to offshore banks,
Now they say we are corrupt.

...The Power of One

"I have fought against white domination, and I have fought against black domination. I have cherished the ideal of a democratic and free society in which all persons live together in harmony and with equal opportunities. It is an ideal which I hope to live for and to achieve. But if needs be, it is an ideal for which I am prepared to die." Nelson Mandela

Back on February 11th, 1990, it was Youth Day in Cameroon. I was sitting in front of the TV when the news guy came on after the interruption of the colourful, "NEWS FLASH" jingle. The announcer proclaimed that Nelson Mandela was finally free. There was an uproar of cheering in my dad's living room. My 8 year old mind could make no sense out of the sudden excitement amongst the grown ups and the hugs they generously exchanged.
This morning, when I woke up, my mind was torn between going to work or not? As I pondered on my demise, I said to myself gently: I don't think they would miss me if I didn't show up. I turned to my bed and sank inbetween the sheets. As I closed my eyes to move on, I could hear that voice I hate, saying; Get up! Get up! You are needed at work!
My mind immediately drifted to the impact my presence or absence at work may have to my company I work for hence, my conclusion on today's post, "The Power of One." The power of one is also the title of a book by Bryce Courtney published in 1989 about the adventures and trials of Peekay, an English-speaking orphan, in the midst of Afrikaners during the Boer occupation of South Africa and is influenced by a German expatriate. But I digress.

VETO. VOTE.

In the two words above, it is interestingly discernable that the position of the vowel seems to give the word a different pronunciation and altogether a different meaning.

Vote: / vôt / noun. Pronounced “VOAT”. The word is derived from the Latin vôtum (neuter past participle of vovére), which means vow. A vote is defined in the Webster Desk Dictionary as a formal expression of preference for a candidate for office or for a proposed resolution of an issue. A means by which such a preference is made known, such as a raised hand or a marked ballot.

Veto: / vìtº / n. pl. vetoes. Pronounced “VITO”. The word is derived from the Latin vet (first person singular present tense of vetôre, to forbid.) It means the vested power or constitutional right of one branch or department of government to refuse approval of measures proposed by another department, especially the power of a chief executive to reject a bill passed by the legislature and thus prevent or delay its enactment into law. An authoritative prohibition or rejection of a proposed or intended act.

The conviction of applying one's values to bring out more of the best in oneself, or the best in others, to me is more noble than any political agenda that may exist. My reasoning comes from the fact that conviction is something personal. Something that is felt internally and if you cannot be shaken from your position, then your conviction is noble.

The reason I bring conviction up is because recently, I applauded Bush's standpoint on the Senate bill on Federal funding of embryonic stem cell research. Although I don't like Bush and most of his ideals, I was able to recognise his deterrence and concise stubborness at standing for what he believed. He argued that his reason for vetoing the bill was because he thought stem cell research was killing innocent embryos at the hope that they can cure diseases like Parkinsons and Alzheimer's. I strongly commend his position and am glad he was able to stand up to what he believes in. The King actually confirmed this. He states his point with conviction and is hardly ever moved.

The more empirical argument has been made, and duely substantiated during the course of history, that one voice can make a difference. One vote, one voice or even one Yeh or Nay can change the result of a ballot. There have been many poeple that have stood up just like Nelson Mandela and have made a difference. Mention must be made here of heroes like Dr. Martin Luther King, Malcolm X, Rosa Parks, Mahatma Ghandi, William E Dubois, etc. Voting is a right and the reason why most Americans don't exercise it is appallingly ambiguous since, there are millions of people across the globe that would rather die than not vote. A lot of people in the oppressed parts of the world have no voting rights and thus cannot express their views of their government.

That said, I often wonder if both words are not paradoxical because what point does it make if we voted for something and someone else just vetoed the vote? This one person in that case would have imposed his choice upon everyone albeit that the majority may not agree. I end my post today with that question. Tell me what you think.

...War Stories

...Success meant history. I was poised. But the scene on the beach was desperate. Since the ships could not get closer to the shore line, we had to make up the distance to the beach. One by one we jumped into the water hurling towards the beach. Sinking under the mass of my arms, I had to find my footing quickly so as not to stumble in the chest-deep waves, and fight the enemy, who, standing on the dry land, could easily kill and maim my battalion.

The arduous task to me beset nothing but the fear of losing, if it has to be admitted, and I took pleasure in firing back. The alacrity and enthusiasm of my enemy was overwhelmingly unencumbered by my continuous advance towards the beach. I kept firing and held onto the trigger of my weapon. Shells dropped and I saw my comrades sink and their bodies rise up onto the water's surface after a few seconds, maybe minutes. I turned to look towards the ship I had just jumped out of as it slowly started its retreat into the deep of the ocean. I looked around me to discover I was surrounded by bodies floating in the waters. I turned back to face the enemy even more enraged.

I was not going to lose, I thought as I could hear my commander over the radio call for air support. Explosions hailed our advance towards land. The enemy stood its grounds and we lost even more men. I don't know how many men the enemy lost.

A sudden seismic tremor and I felt my knee go limb. The waves swayed with even more rage as my mass sank into the water. I felt a sharp pain on my left side and tried to push my body over the surface of the water and started to beat the waves arm in hand. I was close enough to the sand. As I pulled my besieged weight out of the water, I felt the deepest relief I could imagine. I was out of the water and for that moment had conquered something, I thought. One victory, one more to go and immediately took back to firing my weapon.

The enemy was resilient. As I kept firing, I wondered whether victory meant as much to them as it did to me. Wondered whether they understood why I was fighting for my country. Wondered whether they would understand if I explained my personal views on the situation to them. Wondered whether if I waved the white flag, the opponent soldier would take me for a lassy. The thunderous roar and shelling didn't stop. It felt at times as if I the earth had gone into a turbulent spin and the had abruptly shifted. Sporadic cries for help immediately quelled by the tempestuous explosions and firing machine guns.

Impaired by my inability to run, my regiment went ahead of me and as I lay unmolested on the sand among the dead and the dying, waiting to be airlifted to a care center, I looked up to capture the most unique view of the battlefield: The awful events passing lay beneath my view; nor was there aught to interrupt my observation save a few bodily twitches, the pangs of prostrated ambition, and the shot and shells which burst close, or nearly cut the ground from under me.

In my thoughts, the birth and growth of my young soul had three midwives: Democracy, God, and Luck...

... I shook to discover it was all a dream and I was actually still laying in the comfort of my sheets and comforter. I was elated to know I was not hurt. It was all a dream I thought, a dream that was so real. Wow! As I reveled in the premise, I turned my TV to MSNBC and my elation at my finding out that I was safe from war was shortlived. Israel and Lebanon were still at it. Iran won't listen to the UN security council. Dub-ya still has US troops in Iraq. Diplomacy with North Korea is stalling. The anti-terrorism war seemed to be in full gear. People are still dying in Dafur. Same story for the Southwestern parts of Central African Republic. The list goes on...

...Poorer by Day

It has been what? 4 days? 5? 6? since I last posted something on here!Oh well, I decided to write something today because I saw on the news that most billionaires are virgos. Some astrologer lady named Susan Miller was laboriously trying to explain why that was the case and frankly I could not make any sense out of it all. But since I am a Virgo, I thought what the heck! I will become a billionaire whether I understand her reasons or not...Anyhooow, here goes my post for today.

You have probably seen, like I have, the "Feed the Children" commercials on TV about helping some organisations curb hunger in the world. Usually these organisations ask for just $1 monthly from you to ensure that someone half way across the globe has a blanket for the cold night. That is the cost of just one McDonald cheeseburger! Don't feel guilty though, because I stumbled upon an article on how extravagant the officers for some of these agencies spent your contributions, that I think I will never donate to some organisation unless I know my dollar will find its way to some kid's starved stomach; and since I can't verify that my dollar will make it to the kid's stomach, I think I may just keep my philanthropy within the confines of my arm's reach.

Yes you heard right. I will refrain from contributing to all the agencies until I figure out a way to channel my aid to the intended. But that may be a long shot so I will start with home and handle only NGOs (Non-governmental Organisations) that prove worthy i.e. me and you.

Charity begins at home so I will give money to only those I know and have seen that the have it worse than I do. For example, if you asked me if I had a dollar for a soda, I may just be kind enough to give you!

Most of your hard earned dollars are put to good use but you may be flawed to know that more than a third of global development funding-about 20 billion US- goes towards technical assistance.Technical assistance here refers to training of officials, research, and the services that consultants offer, which you and I would frankly call exorbitant. Imagine paying someone $200000 monthly to be an adviser on how aid should be distributed in an impoverished country. The job title? Special Counsel on Aid in Africa. Now, I don't know about you but I think these organisations are missing the point. Aid is to go to the poor not the consultants.

In Ghana, it is reported that local Aid workers earn the equivalent of $300 monthly but their foreign counterparts earn this in a matter of hours. The statistics are compelling and one is forced to wonder whether the aid actually goes towards what these Funding programs preach. It is understandable that the development of the poor African nations takes back seat to the enriching motives behind the money-run aid programs.

One major issue that comes with this is that most of the development contracts are awarded to foreign based companies. This, of course in guise to make sure the African companies (which are well-qualified for the contracts awarded) don't grow any bigger or richer than they are, while ensuring that the money being awarded for aid goes in part back to the originator. A case in point is the BDID (British Department for International Development). Of all the contracts they awarded last year, it is confirmed that more than 80% of them went to British companies.

In their obvious argument, they will quickly point out that the money went towards aid and development in Ghana and Kenya. But we all know, so I will not belabor the point.This goes to shed more light on why there can be no real sustainable development in parts of the world predominantly considered third world. This of course is just one of the reasons for the deplorable and incessant dilapidation of the African economy and socio-political climate. One readily thinks of corruption, lack of resources due in part to the encrusted effects of slavery and slave trade amongst other reasons. But that is another discussion.

...Reflections on the FIFA World Cup 2006

Yep, the Fifa World Cup 2006 is now over with Italy winning.

I won a couple of bets but some friends chickened out. Someone had bet their paycheck on Italy not winning the world Cup from the beginning. I am sure I would have refused to give up my pay check too had Italy lost. Anyways, the world cup had its moments as well as its faux- pas! I like negatives so I will focus on that.

It is true the letargic pace of the players in the finals made it painful to watch but then, I am glad we really got to see Zizu misbehave on his last day before retirement. If anyone remembers, in the 2002 World Cup, Zizu acted the same way in France's second game and the summary of his career at Real has been a catalogue of disgusting outbursts and shenanigans that cut his playing time a lot. This guy is one of the best in ball control, no doubt, but what image is he trying to show our kids? Man, just when I thought I could like him! Moving on!!!

To me, like I said in the beginning of the tournament, Italy was always a possible champ. Anyways, Juventus will be playing in the third division next football season but that doesn't mean we will not see them in two years back in the Calcio! Most of its players will be loaned to other teams and what not and will get back with the team once they are back in the Calcio.

But the Azzurri are at this moment on top of the world and the pleasure is all mine. They better enjoy it. Now, we have to rebuild the Cameroon national team, win the African Nations Cup in Ghana in 2008 and then get to the World Cup semi-finals in 2010 in South Africa.(I doubt this is possible but hey, I can dream right?)

THE DISGRACE OF THE WORLD CUP!!
1. Zizu played well in the second round of the tournament but then spoiled everything when he headbutted Materrazi. Thierry Henry barely got a touch of the ball, although he scored with one of those rare touches. P-i-t-i-f-u-l!

2. Roger Lemerre's Tunisia and the impossible fatigue. Tunisia conceded four or more goals towards the last ten minutes of all their games. Against Saudi Arabia, Tunisia led right up to the waning minutes of the game when Saudis came back and tied. Same story with Spain and Ukraine. They had a chance to advance out of the group especially when Ukraine had lost woefully to Spain.

3. Brazil's games were painful to watch. Ronaldhino can't play without Deco. And there is no arguing about this. Ronaldo's weight issues were blatantly apparent. Dida was pretty good but Lucio just dampened his light. My goodness, Brazil came with nothing to the World Cup. I am sure Socrates and the older players crawled out of their graves when this was over. Read on as I am sure the analysis of Roberto Carlos' marking of Henry below is evidence enough.

4. De Rossi of Italy intentionally elbowing Mcbride of the USA. He got only a two-game suspension. He should have been kept out of the competition.

5. Argentina’s coach soiled their dreams when he pulled Riquelme off the field with 20minutes left and never put Wonder boy Messi to churn the stomachs of the German D when Germany drew level. He opted for Luis Gonzalez instead.

6.Ivory Coast being over-confident in their play. They think they are all stars but then, we found out otherwise. Eboue had his worst outing ever. Drogba didn't want to run, the list is long!

7. The refs throwing out yellow cards at each blow of the whistle. Man, it made my eyes bleed when the ref in Portugal v. Netherlands gave out 16 yellow cards and four red cards. Good God!

8. I am out of ideas but I think anyone else can enlarge the list. If you remember something, please add it. Oh and the good thing about the tournament? I got to see Shakira move that waist/belly or whichever she was moving. I tell you it was a delicacy watching Shakira on stage. Not a bad point! Good thing number 1 about the world cup. Loved it! Hey, check out Roberto Carlos marking one of the world's best attackers, Henry! Go from left of screen to right!!!

...Incroyable mais vrai: Zizu's gift to France

I had promised myself to not post anything about the Fifa World Cup 2006 taking place in Germany until it was done with. But I think there is a point I want to make here, so to hell with my promise.

Nobody and I mean everyone including the coaches of the team didn't believe that France could make it to the World Cup finals this year. France once again has proved the old adage that the soccer ball is round and therefore can roll eitherway during the 90 minutes on the pitch and that Fifa rankings don't determine who wins and what not.

France's expedition started with a strained tie against Swtizerland and Korea. They seemed to have gained some new wind after they trashed Togo thereby grabbing a ticket out of their group. They then went on to fly past powerhouses, Spain, Brazil and Portugal to earn a spot in the finals this Sunday in Berlin.

This only after France had performed its worst ever since winning the World Cup in 1998 when they hosted. They hadn't even scored a goal until their fourth world cup game against Korea. France would not be at the finals were it not for one 35 year old man, who plans to retire from international and club soccer after the World Cup in the Germany. His name: Zinedine Zidane (Zizu for short)!

Although his performance holds the key to France's play, the French national team is full of superstars whose performances thus far have been at best average. But not Zizu! He has for the most part been an integral part of the ball flow, with his neat one-two touches and his ability to magnet the ball to his boots. Unlike Ronaldhino, Zizu is the game regulator. He slows down the game when his teammates need to catch their breadth and picks up the pace when Malouda, Henry and Viera are ready to run. What a soccer great!

I know you must be wondering whether I will mention Brazil! Oh yeah, I was going to get there but since you are thinking about it, step into my office. Brazil are still considered soccer gods albeit, their lack lustre performances throughout the competition. I personally didn't think Brazil would go anywhere this year but you always have to be alert when Brazil is playing. For the most part of the competition, the Samba boys never seemed to get their rhythm together. Ronaldhino barely completed a pass, Robinho didn't see enough playing time, Kaka laboriously worked the outside left to no avail, Ze Roberto was plain lost in the field of play, and Ronaldo... Oh, wonder boy Ronaldo! Although he broke the World Cup leading scorer record, his performance was outfitted by his weight gain and lethargic pace being all over the headlines.

That said, Italy was my favorite from the beginning and I would love for them to win since I have some money riding on them. But imagine what joy it would be for Zizu to retire after winning the cup for his country. It would be a good thing I guess but I am not willing to lose any money. Va Squadra Azura Va!