This radio was reserved for the owner - Mr. grandfather - his favorite wife, & his favorite grandchild. Batteries would only be considered dead after a thorough beating, drying in the sun, & whinging "chwiiii" from the radio. The radio was to remain clean at all times.

-Courtesy Image
This radio slept in a cabinet/cupboard. It had its special, hand-knit "kitambaao/otamba" to cover it. When it was news hour in the afternoon, everybody was to keep quiet & let the radio do the telling. Anything that moved was courting death. Even the dogs knew not to bark.
There were only three channels allowed. KBC, BBC, and VOA. If you went to any other - if there were any - you'd be courting death. The cassette section was reserved for gospel songs. It was not used too often because it "ate" the battery too fast.
The radio had to stay in the AM frequency at all times. If it rained, AM. If it was shining, AM. It was not to "sit" on the ground. Like a guest, it sat perched on a stool. It was the first thing to bring out when there was a guest. As a guest, it was your duty to compliment it.

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More from @XivTroy

13 Jan
No, I do not believe that most men go into friends with benefits (FWBs) out of fear for responsibility that comes with relationships. Men fall in love with their dreams 1st before they fall in love with women. Until the dreams are actualized, they do not feel deserving of love.
Yet the physical needs cannot be ignored. The more liberal pay for sex in brothels. The less liberal seek a convenient domestic arrangement (FWB). I think it is for the best too. Because a man's love for a woman is useless, unless it is for himself first.
It's not that he does not know when he is losing a good thing. It is simply that losing her presents a less daunting threat than the loss of his dreams and ambitions. A man would sooner marry a woman he doesn't love when he is actualized than marry a woman he loves unactualized.
Read 6 tweets
24 Dec 21
Maybe I am old school but I would like it if my woman joined my mother & sisters in the food preparation process. The same way I would join her father & brothers in erecting the tent. It's not the act, it's the symbolism. Europeans call it gender roles; we call it community.
We do that which brings us together. Each man according to his ability. The men with their muscles carry logs. The women with their grace bless the hearth. When Europeans look at it, all they see is the labor. But for the African people, it is about love and kinship.
Love is labor. Love is sacrifice. Achebe says, "when we gather together in the moonlit village ground it is not because of the moon. Every man can see it in his own compound. We come together because it is good for kinsmen to do so". When we love, we work for it. And to keep it.
Read 6 tweets
23 Dec 21
I'm for vaccination: I'm not for the imposition of it. One's body, one's prerogative. My liberty to swing my fist ends just where your nose begins. If COVID-19 vaccination were as efficient you would not need to worry about the unvaccinated. Choice, not decree.
Especially with Africa in context, calls for imposition of vaccination is the preserve of those who routinely seal their anus to stop diarrhea. Covid inequities prevent equal access to the vaccine. Different vaccines, different outcomes. There cannot be uniform immunity. Yet.
Fear turns some of us rabid. Wrong is wrong even if everyone is for it. I am vaccinated. I do not demand it of everyone. If I club you to death for refusing to vaccinate, am I not worse than the malaise?
Read 5 tweets
20 Nov 21
I died in my dream last night. The brakes jammed, the uber driver panicked, & a bus rammed into us; pushing us down the cliff. You could hear noise everywhere as the car rolled. It was dark except for the intermittent patches of light seeping through the shattering windows...
I was afraid. I had not anticipated it. I thought to myself, "Maybe if I could reach the door, I might live". Yet, I couldn't be bothered to move. It was hopeless. I reached for my seat belt, but even that was hopeless. It was too far off. I sat still and made peace with death.
I thought about life... about nature. I would miss the sky. I always loved its blue. I would miss the wind and trees, and rivers: in those I found hope... in those I mended. I thought about people and the beauty of hope. I wondered where I might fall: in heaven or hell.
Read 7 tweets
11 Oct 21
Can you marry alone? Please! Marry your wife, or husband alone! We have demanding things to attend to: school fees, our parents' welfare, rent, medical fund drives, police bribes. Overbearing tax. Please, if you are my friend, marry your wife alone! A wedding is not an emergency!
You find yourself in 5 wedding groups, all in December, all asking for contributions: is wedding a heart attack? Didn't you know you were going to wed in December? Must you wed? In fact, come-we-stay has been scientifically proven to last longer. Don't play with people, bwana!
We will start beating you! Marry alone. If you cannot afford a wedding, go to the AG, marry that man, or woman. Si you love them so much...

Then it it will be, "fake friends, fake friends", is a wedding a heart attack? You've never eaten cake?

We will start beating you!
Read 5 tweets
9 Oct 21
My favorite writers didn't come within an inch of the Nobel prize. Mark Twain didn't. In fact, Charles Dickens won no awards at all. Yet, they shaped my world view. Taught me to believe. To be kind. To dream. Art's true ovation is not in awards, or "spaces". It is in inspiration.
True art does not seek praise. Or recognition. Or notoriety. It just is. Any acclaim is welcome, but not demanded.

As for me, should a kid read my work, a decade after my death, & say to himself, "because you lived I will work harder, be kinder". It's all the award I need.
All I am saying is, art's excellence is not determined by the "spaces" it is allowed. Maugham & Kafka taught me as much. You must believe that you are the best: in ovation, & in its absence. Spaces are limiting. They are seals of approval. On how well you met expectations.
Read 4 tweets

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