Wasi: Inanity to insanity... somewhere in between

should be asleep

2012-02-05T03:19:00.002Z

freewrite

silly of me to imagine you wanted to know my truth any more than the next man
naïve to think that my news could do anything but move you to wish you could sever these ties
gaze in fearful awe each time my number hits your screen
and wonder for a split second each time
if somehow down that unopened line i could hear your mind stutter over whether or not to pick up
whether or not to utter lies or keep them inside storing them up under one bigger other

i would run from you if i could, if i remembered how these laces should go, if i could make up for these breached lives
but i don't, can't, won't, instead trip over trailing tongue, flailing, unwise, lay bare thoughts meant for inside
collapse again into tangled heap as i infer more from your silence than you ever knew it could imply

sunday 5th feb 2012 3.19am

late to bed freewrite (2)

2011-12-04T01:33:00.000Z

i want to freewrite
want to sit here and pour words
indiscriminate
onto the page
let them spill from me like the ones before
where i lay myself bare to your scrutiny
offered up heart, so unplanned, i forgot the wrapping
forgot to deliver at least some pretext of forward planning
some subtlety to turn raw into nuance
just slapped it down unenhanced
bloody, raging, pulsing on that slab

but if i let myself
go
now
as i did then...

i am sorry
i cannot

day 12 in nigeria - end times

2011-12-02T00:00:00.000Z

it's going on for 3pm. I have about 9 more hours on nigerian soil, to bask and bake and be whoever it is when i'm out here - some kind of hybrid of my usual self, overlaid with the slightly more boisterous, bolshier bit of me that, along with an undercurrent of custom, seems to be released a little more when i speak yoruba and hang out with *nigerian* nigerians.

the day has been spent so far packing and repacking, my mum's prediction this morning that we might not use up all our baggage allowance (2 x 23kg each…) proved just a little too optimistic after all. i'm just hoping there's no bother at customs, what with all the food and other stuff that we're bringing back. buying and selling is in my mum's blood - my grandma was a trader, and my mum has been doing it since she was small. the entrepreneurial spirit seems to have resolutely skipped me though - perhaps that's my own rebellion, my disregard for commerce and a tidy profit margin, no matter how modest.

in the living room, my cousins have just finished picking efirin leaves. my cousin has gone to town to go buy some more stuff for us to take back. i've stopped trying to protest at any of it - i know from years of experience it makes little difference. and it wouldn't be a proper trip home if we didn't go back laden with half the wares of lagos' market.

james blake is pulsing from the speakers, and my cousins argue about boko haram and goodluck jonathan. the copier repair man is repairing, and outside a couple of workmen are working on the well. my mum wanders in and out of the room, slightly distracted, i guess, by leaving home and family to go back to a country she's never fully embraced, but can now never fully leave.

the heat… god, the heat.

someone asked me last night why i could never live in nigeria. i found it difficult to articulate it in a way that could be easily understood. i love so many things about being here, but… it would be like being regressed to childhood again, having to learn the basics all over, and learn also to accept the way things are done - those that i accept wholeheartedly, and others less so. i'll just have to accept the in-between solution - feel at home when i'm here, but understand that part of that feeling is linked to the temporary nature of my stay. (hmmm - current song - limit to your love)

right. i think that's it from here - i should go interact with my family before i won't see them again for another half a dozen years. or maybe just go doze in the heat. or take another cold shower. whatever. i'm off to take my leave.

day 11 in nigeria - one more sleep

2011-12-01T00:00:00.000Z

at 8.06 this morning, i was woken up for a visitor - turns out the tailor had arrived with all my new clothes. everything fit, and looked like i described it, which is pretty awesome. personal tailoring is kind of cool when it all goes right.

in the living room, a hair-dresser (who'd arrived at something like 7.30) was doing my mum's hair. next door, the school kids were singing along with their hugely loud drumming. i felt like maybe i was starting my day a little late.

just one more sleep until we leave, and already i've started thinking about work… i charged my phone yesterday, and must the network must have switched itself back on - a flood of work e-mails had got through, a few about a presentation i'm doing at a conference in glasgow in about 10 days. the thought of it makes me feel a little sick, so i've managed for the most part not to think about while i've been away. I really wish I'd ignored those notifications…

Last night was my most epic battle yet with the mosquitoes. we (very foolishly) didn't fleet the room (spray with insecticide) before we went to bed. which normally isn't too much of a problem. but last night, they were out with a vengeance - maybe they heard we're leaving tomorrow. i was awake a lot, and scratching like a fiend - this morning i woke up with massive bumps on both arms, an itchy ankle, and a suspiciously puffy eyelid. and my mum, sleeping in the same bed? absolutely nothing. this happened in tunisia too - i'd get up every morning, itchy and bumpy, or sit in the house, slapping at my arms and legs, while my mum and aunt would intimate it was all in my head, given that they'd not been attacked. stupid mosquitoes.
- - - - - - -

so, we fly in 25 hours. we've not packed yet. there're ewedu leaves drying in one spot, beans in another bag, and piles of clothes all over the place.
my cousins came round to spend our last night together - they're sat all eating together (i ate earlier), and we're all sat sweltering together - like the mosquitoes, it seems the heat came out in force today to see us off.

the day passed mainly non-eventfully (another load of exam questions, another field negro podcast). except for another visit from my uncle with someone i spent over an hour having an ultimately pointless conversation with - it was like we were both speaking different languages, even when we weren't. thank God we fly tomorrow.

for now, though, i'll go chat to my cousins, wait for the 'fleet' to die down, and hopefully not re-incur the wrath of the local bloodsuckers tonight. maybe there'll even be sleep tonight.

day 10 in nigeria - in balance

2011-11-30T00:00:00.001Z

got home last night after a 2½ hour journey from a market, weirdly exhausted, so this one's a day late (not that it makes any difference, given i won't be posting them until i get back anyway).

so, yesterday was one of my favourite days - it involved a trip to yaba market with my cousin, and with 4 hours on the road, that included a lot of road-side sight-seeing.

highlights included:
- wheelbarrows piled high with melons, yam, and sugarcane

- a number of cars (for some reason, i noted particularly some type of peugeot and a nissan sunny bluebird, which was once our family car) stuffed to the windows in the backseat and the boot with massive bunches of green bananas

- amazing feats of balancing - people in the marketplaces carrying all sorts on their heads, often without the needs for hands to steady them. masses of stuff - huge baskets of peppers and tomatoes, big 'ghana-must-go's (the big shopping bags) full of only god knows what, a row of cushions (seriously) - everything!

- passengered-up okadas, one on which i swear the guy at the back had a baby goat across his lap…

- motorbikes and cars crossing the central boundary of the roads to make u-turns; a massive trailer truck, which i'm pretty sure didn't actually intend to cross the central reserve, strewn across the road, luckily not overturned, but resulting in a huge go-slow both ways

- an escaped goat, from one of the roadside goat areas. ok - very poor explanation - in some places, beside the road, there are loads of troughs, surrounded by masses of goats for sale; as far as i can tell, they're not actually tied up, though i may be wrong on that count. whatever the case, this particular goat had decided to make a run for it, and managed to make it safely across the 4 lanes of traffic, followed closely by its owner. everyone in the bus erupted into laughter, especially when (as far as we could tell) the goat ended up jumping into a wheelbarrow it encountered on the other side

- incredible grin-inducing feats of balancing

- a pair of young-looking school kids crossing the busy roads, one holding on to the rucksack straps of the other

- a massive congregation praying maghrib under a pedestrian overpass, with one guy balancing on a bench, and me thinking 'wow, so that really happens'

- a man slouched, arms crossed, against his broken down car, pushed into the high grass at the side of the road, just waiting

- driving that managed to be simultaneously terrifying and exciting - like watching formula one from the passenger seat, racing cars replaced by motorcycles, normal cars, minibuses, big buses, and huge trucks. oh yeah, and pedestrians

- death-defying hawkers, who sell their wares along the roadside, and often, in the road, weaving between vehicles, running to keep up with their customers, keeping an eye and ear out for potential sales

- and did i mention, superbly spectacular feats of balancing?

day 9 in nigeria - buying bread

2011-11-29T00:00:00.000Z

I took three of my favourite pictures today - the first two were of each of the little boys, Uthman & Sultan, who rent the house next door to my grandma's. Our family owns the house, which seems to be a common thing - for houses/bungalows to be built as semi-detached, as it were, and then for one of those to be rented out, while the family uses the other one. I was sat outside, using the last of the daylight to type example questions, when Sultan, the littlest (about 2), walked past, and me and my cousin (another one) noticed that he seemed to be wearing make-up. His aunt had made him and his little brother up - I always find it quite hilarious how older siblings and parents do that to little boys, make them up and dress them in girls' clothes, but would probably not think it so cute if he turned up dressed like that in about 15 years' time (though perhaps I underestimate them). Uthman, the older brother (about 7 or 8) approached us with his hands over his face, but eventually agreed to let me take his picture two. I love both their expressions, and how they contrast with the makeup and how little they both are.

The third photo is one of my cousin, sat reading exam questions by torchlight, as the electricity had just gone off (for about the fourth time - it's been pretty messed up today). I like the light and shadows in that one.

This afternoon has been mainly spent typing (sigh), whilst listening to another of the Field Negro Guide to the Arts & Cultiure podcasts, and later Mashrou' Leila, Silence 4 and Manic Street Preachers. But earlier in the day, I actually escaped the house, and went to a local market with my mum and aunt. We bought a load of random stuff, pako (chewing sticks), barra (no idea what it is - some kind of bitter vegetable with medicinal properties), ori (shea butter - a whole massive lump (about ⅔ the size of a football) for N1,300 (about £4.50) and some ankara (a type of printed material) for headties. It was really haggle-central, with my mum and aunt both really going to town - with some of the traders it was like good-humoured sparring, but there were some people who were clearly just like 'this is the price - take it or leave it', which is fair enough - I can't deal with the intricacies of bartering - offer too low a price, they think you're taking the mick, too high, and you show you've no idea what you're doing. So basically, I just leave it to the experts, and only get involved when they're about to walk away from something I really want to buy.
I really wish I could have taken some photos in the market, but it wasn't a very relaxed visit, and by the time we were through, I was too loaded down with stuff to even think about getting my camera out.

I was left home alone (again) for the afternoon, so decided to strike out on my own to buy bread. There are places in the market places where you can buy bread, but generally, the best (freshest) loaves are from the women who carry them around on giant wooden trays with legs. I thought I saw a bread-woman out of the window, grabbed my money, and ran out - it actually turned out to be wishful thinking. But then I spotted a woman further up the road - and set out after her. To avoid looking like a total freak running after her in the street, I had to just stride purposefully, and hope she'd be slowed down by what she had on her head. It worked, and I bought a loaf of bread, quite probably grinning inanely the whole time. Bread and stew for lunch, and bread and Bournvita ('tea') for dinner (it's pretty much been carb city since I've been here) - hmmm.

Anyways, the lights have just all gone out for about the 5th time today (apparently the workers of NEPA are on strike - personally, I think they're just mucking about with the switches), so I'll take that as a hint to call it a night (though this is doing wonders for my touch-typing…). Until the light returns.

ps - discovery that has most tickled me today: there is a bus-stop in Lagos called 'Tom Jones. Brilliant.

day 8 in nigeria - elastic ties

2011-11-28T00:00:00.001Z

i had intended to write about family today - how amazing it is to be close to people i so rarely get to see and seldom interact with when i'm not here, and that wonder of how, with certain family members, there will always be that connection, no matter how long or far apart you are.

but…

it's 10.20pm, and my mum and aunt aren't back from town yet. and you're probably thinking, well, hell, they're not children, and and 10.20 at night isn't exactly late. but that's in london time. or maybe even in nigeria time, if you are from round here, and so are familiar with the place (i guess just as this time of night in south london feels fine to me, while i know many people not from there who are terrified at the mere thought of being out on our mean streets after sundown - all those hooded youths, with their patois…). but the thing is, as much is this may feel like home in some ways, i'm not from round here - i don't know the area that well, i don't know how safe it is for them to be out at this time of night on public transport, and most of all, i don't have any way to contact them to find out where they are/how long they'll be/if they're ok. for the past couple hours, i've contemplated going round to the neighbours to ask to borrow their phone - just a 10 second call would stop my imagination going into overdrive (too late) and allow me to avoid freaking out.

for the first time today, i actually got a little homesick (and that's quite a big thing - i normally never get homesick for london, much as i love the place). i was listening to podcasts - an adam & joe one from last year's camden crawl, and then the brilliant w. kamau bell chatting to aamer rahman (from the australian comedy duo, fear of a brown planet') and then ava vidal (from the british comedy non-duo, ava vidal). these podcasts ( from w. kamau bell & vernon reid's 'the field negro guide to arts and culture' - which are amazing - check them out) were from the end of the edinburgh festival, and touch on, amongst other things, the london riots, race and comedy, and some differences in the american and british comedy world. and for some reason, listening to these guys made me really miss london, and little conveniences like being able to just google something/someone, or logging into facebook to chat to friends or twitter to post about something or other. and i miss being able to go out on my own. i guess it's this last that's the most pressing, really, feeling stuck in the house if there's no-one around to get out of it with, partly because i don't know the local area, partly because it's not really the kind of place you just wander about aimlessly on your own. so i guess i'm getting a bit of cabin fever - it seems a real shame to come all this way to spend so many hours stuck indoors, with the only other option being going stock-shopping with my ma. (by the way, just as i got to the middle of this paragraph, they knocked on the door - there'd been hold ups coming out of town). that said, this time next week, i'll probably already be complaining about having no time to spend indoors, just doing what i want. (though at least i won't have been roped into typing up exam question papers, which is what a lot of today has been spent doing..!).

that said, just three full days left here now (we leave on saturday), and that is making me feel kind of sad too. as i started with, there's something so brilliant about being 'home', reconnecting with family. i've grown up often away from any extended family - apart from my mum's mum, who lived with us in london for a few years, i never really knew any of my grandparents (the only times i saw them being on my infrequent trips to nigeria). aside from a few cousins, most of our family lives either out here, or in the states. as such, i've never really grown up knowing family that well. but whenever we come out, there's always a warm welcome, and it feels very natural to share space and time with aunts, uncles and cousins, picking up on things as though there hadn't been a 5 year gap between meetings. and the love, and expression of care, is just so lovely - just little things - one cousin giving us one of the chickens he rears, another coming over with pineapples and plantain, my uncle turning up last night with a bunch of bananas, and so many of them taking time out just to come over, to come chat, to come share a little of their life with the londoners before we disappear off again. and even though i do have loads of amazing and wonderful friends, so many live far away also, and despite all the things i have to look forward to once i'm back in london, i will miss being part of a big family - not wanting them there all the time, but knowing they could be there if i wanted or needed them to be. i'll miss that a lot.

hmmm - after my rather self-indulgent blog, a couple (well, a triple) of cool things to redress the balance:

- the stars - last night i went out to meet my uncle at the gate, to get the bananas he'd brought over. on my way back in, i stopped and stared up at the sky. i forgot how many more stars you can see out here. it must have been pretty funny for anyone looking out, to see me stood there, wrapper trailing and mouth agape, a sort of half-smile dopily slung across my face. luckily, everyone else was asleep, so there was no-one there to witness me looking like a kid who just discovered the night sky for the first time.

- cutting a melon - i don't particularly like melon - it has just enough taste to put me off, and not quite enough to make up for its existence. so, given that i never eat melon, i've never actually cut one. i did tonight for the first time, slicing one up for my mum, aunt and cousin after their long day out. it was the most satisfying thing to cut up *ever* the blade sliced through with just the right amount of resistance, and a perfect shirring with each slice. seriously, i might take up eating water melon, just to have that perfect satisfaction of slicing it up (or maybe just take to offering it to all guests that come round.

- thinking in yoruba - i've found since i've gotten here, i've started thinking in yoruba, and sometimes having difficulty thinking of the right word in english for something that has no quite right equivalent, but can be said so perfectly in yoruba. this happens anyway in london, but it's become even more so here. i like it. good work, mind.

plan for actually, finally taking charge and breaking out of the self-destructive cycle*

2011-11-27T00:28:00.000Z

(*snappy title, i know!)

so. i just chatted to a friend about what i wrote about last night. and about the new years' resolutions i made in january - whether i'd actually stuck to them or not. we concluded that i had managed some (definitely done more photography and more writing, spent more time with friends, and learnt some stuff), a few i've sort of worked on (i'm a bit better at rationalising and actually believing my rationalising of my negative self-speak. a bit.), and some have just been a total fail (getting more sleep...going out less...erm, yeah, right).

so, following on from my ground-breaking realisation that i actually need to take some action to stop this pretty blatantly destructive pattern of self-imposed sleep depravation, and all of the emotional issues that seem to be, if not resultant, at least somehow related to it, we came up with a bit of an action plan - three specific goals that i'll be putting into practice starting from tonight.

unfortunately, i've forgotten what one of them is... did i mention that memory was something i struggle with?!

anyways, the plan (as far as i can recall) is as follows:

1) sleep - aim for getting to bed by midnight, and absolute latest 1am - at least 6 hours' sleep a night - will include not staying online beyond 10pm... (obviously, except for tonight)

2) investigate and apply methods to address mood swings and anxiety:

keep a 'food, mood and sleep' diary - my memory is questionable at best, so having something to refer to will hopefully help to see if there are any patterns linking these three things
get a health check (blood tests etc) - my friend mentioned that this is always a good idea, as changes in mood and also messed up sleeping patterns can have thier roots in something physical. hopefully not in this case, though.
investigate counselling, and actually get a referral - i mean, really actually do this. i have no problem with going for counselling per se - i want to become a counsellor, it'd be pretty weird if i had a problem with it. my only worry is finding someone who i trust to understand me - i would have a real problem both opening up and allowing myself to be helped by someone who i don't feel gets where i'm coming from

3) this is the one i've forgotten (z, help me out!). it may have been linked to working on overcoming the negative voice in my head that peppers my interactions with unhelpful and irrational self-talk. using the methods often suggested (ie testing the reality of those thoughts, considering alternative explanations, and thinking of alternatives), combined with improved sleep patterns, i'm hoping my moods will be more stable, and so i'll be better equipped to challenge my own negative thinking.

oh yes - and then there were the day notes - but that is for another post, i think.

right, it's getting late, so i'd best be off. i'm feeling hopeful, at the moment, like i can actually make this happen. the day started off a bit emotionally fraught, but has improved since i got to scotland.

just before i go, i want to shout out to some friends who have been mega awesome and supportive today - you all know who you are - i appreciate you huge amounts.

and now, to sleep.

day 7 in nigeria - soft core

2011-11-27T00:00:00.001Z

i think the fact that the highlight of today (apart from watching 'away we go', finally - absolutely loved it/fell in love with the leads - jessica, if you didn't like this movie, please never tell me!) was washing clothes demonstrates quite easily the non-event that it was. which wasn't a bad thing - i'm just not used to a holiday where i actually get time to sit around not really doing anything…

the clothes washing was by hand. so i'm squatted in the bathroom, thrashing at underwear, thinking i'm hard core as, even as my arms, hands and thighs all start to ache after about ten minutes, while outside, a family friend beats dirty bedsheets, skirt suits, and iro & bubo into spotless submission.

the weather decided this evening that it hadn't been quite hot enough yet, and i'm sat writing this, sans fan (sans power), in a pool of sweat quite deep enough to swim in. i think it's melted my brain, so perhaps it's time to call it a night. i'm still not sleeping much, but that's no reason not to go lay there, and doze for about 8 hours. plus, broken sleep produces the weirdest dreams…

sleeplessness, social anxiety, and moods that swing

2011-11-26T02:17:00.000Z

it's 1.35. a.m. my eyes feel grainy, and all day, the right one has been twitching. i am so tired, i kept dozing off during a conversation with my best friend earlier this evening, and my head aches, especially my ears. and there goes my right eye again.

over the past week, i've averaged about 4-5 hours of sleep per night. this after coming back from two weeks in nigeria during which i regularly had rather broken nights of sleep, and the journey back overnight, during which i only slept for about an hour, between paris and london.

i know i need sleep. and i will, soon. but i just needed to at least start this.

anyone that knows me knows that the above is quite a regular pattern - i may go through periods where i start going to bed at a more normal time (say around midnight, relatively early by my standards), and get enough sleep. but gradually, i will start slipping back into this mode - staying up later and later, my body and mind tired beyond belief, but not going to bed anyways. and it's not insomnia - aside from a few very short bouts of this, i've never had a problem actually getting to sleep. the problem rests more in actually going to bed - the ultimate and most pointless of all procrastinations.

i've heard it said this could signify a fear of sleep. or maybe of missing something. the latter, maybe, the former, i really doubt. i love sleep, when i actually do it.

i sometimes wonder what i would be like if i slept enough. i've read enough on the matter to know that prolonged sleep deprivation can and does have a number of adverse effects on health, both mental and physical. my memory has always been bad, but got increasingly worse over the past years. my attention flits - watching me work is probably a master class in self-distraction.
sitting here tonight, thinking about something i mentioned to a friend earlier, i had one of my slow-dawning realisations.
since i was at uni, i have noticed a tendency towards mood swings. though i've read up on them (well, at an internet level), i've never really been sure if they are the normal degree, or warrant worrying over. all i know is that any time i'm more than a little happy one day, it is guaranteed that within the next day or two, my mood will swing low, often spurred by nothing at all. it's something i complain about to close friends off and on, but have never really done anything further about.

these mood swings are often perpetuated by, and/or themselves perpetuate a degree of social anxiety that i have. and by this, i don't (just) mean being shy. which i am - incredibly so. a fact often disbelieved, given my generally outgoing nature. the fact is, the anxiety manifests not necessarily in the way i present myself in public, but what is running through my mind, generally before and after events and interactions, and sometimes even during.
i find that, as soon as i feel a little low, negative thinking prevails. of course everyone has negative thoughts, and irrational ones also. but the degree to which mine run, and the lack of any real cause to prompt them, is a regular difficulty for me.
conversations with friends are later picked over - did i say something stupid? something that might have annoyed them? something i really shouldn't have? any plan to meet new people, especially in groups, becomes an event in hyper-worry about how they will view me, what they will think of me - my predictions are generally not positive ones, and though 99% of the time, these doom-laden prophecies of mine are disproved by the general loveliness or at least amicability of these people, this neither prevents the dissection after the meeting, in which i manage to forget all the positive feedback, and concentrate on negatives that generally didn't actually, really exist - wondering if i came across as too argumentative, too timid, too loud, somewhat disagreeable or stupid or whatever else springs to mind in the post-evaluation process; nor does a positive experience mean that next time, i won't have all the same negative prophecies again, even as my rational self recalls that it all turned out ok in the end.

sitting here thinking tonight, i decided that the coming year will be the one i tackle these issues - the sleep, the anxiety, and the fluctuating moods. i do believe they're all at least a little linked. and i do believe as well that, though i've complained about them, talked to friends about them, pondered them and researched them, i've never actually decided to take the time out to actively do anything about them.

tackling the sleep issue seems, for me, both the most potentially doable, but also one that i know i've tried and failed at so many times. it's also the one that i think holds the key, at least to a degree, to the other two.
staying in will need to become my new going out, and each time i miss a gig or show, i will need to remind myself why i'm doing it - i can't spend the rest of my life getting miserable each time i've been happy (to the extent that i actually worry if i get in 'too' good a mood). and when i'm rested, and emotionally stable, then i'm better able to deal with the anxieties that prevail over all my relationships, that have me feeling things are going bad, even when they're good, or that if they have not yet, they soon will be, and that have me viewing myself so poorly through the eyes of others, projecting my insecurities onto them and translating it into negative reactions that don't exist.

this is the first time i've ever really written about this in any way publicly. partly i was inspired by a number of friends and acquaintances who speak and write candidly about their own issues of mental health. in particular, reading (and recognising bits of myself in bits of) the poet harry giles' blog post made me determined to write my own, when the right time came. partly, i really think this needs to not be something strange or shameful in any way, and the more people talk about mental health, the less it will be so. finally, i guess it's just that time of the night when things come out that maybe in the day, supposed right-mindedness might pull down the shutters of censorship.

day 6 in nigeria - sunday

2011-11-26T00:00:00.002Z

day started well - best sleep since i've been here (am i obsessed with sleep?) - perhaps linked to the fact that, though i slept on a mat on the floor, it was in a room on my own, that didn't depend on a fan to not be stiflingly hot. i recommend these conditions, with a comfortable bed seemingly an optional extra.

very long car journey + hottest day since i've arrived = queasy lack of appreciation of the passing scenery. which was a shame, as there was a fair bit to observe - houses on stilts, with access via wooden pathways, reminding me of crazy gym at school; hills covered in a network of troughs, goats lined up around each, waiting to be sold; the market places with their inescapable smell of freshly peeled oranges, the sight of tomatoes stacked in formation, and the sounds - bus drivers picking up passengers, calling out their destinations ('oshodi, oshodi, oshodi, o' 'mile 12' 'ketu'), hawkers offering 'gala', 'pure water', and various other food stuffs, as well as handkerchiefs, newspapers, and all sorts, running to keep abreast of the cars, the proper definition of drive throughs.

the house in lagos road welcomed us back, but i missed alagbado - surprisingly, as i'd been almost reluctant to go beforehand (the journey, not knowing anyone out there, not realising we were going to an almost fully functional place).

the evening brought a visit from our regular tailor, who measured me up, and took a load of material that should come back on friday as a few tops and a new dress - beats clothes shopping hands down. it also brought my uncle, on a quest best left undiscussed, but which has left me reflecting on autonomy and independence of actions, on the balance between compromise and self-interest. (this is perhaps a little more eloquent than actual fact - in reality, it left me fuming, but, such is my life when it comes to relatives and this m question).

i'm off to bed now, hoping our lack of insect spray tonight won't result in too many interesting itchy bumps by the morning. looking forward to hopefully getting out a bit more over the next 5 days, seeing a little more before it's time to head back to the ordinary.

day 5 in nigeria - in the house of my father

2011-11-25T00:02:00.001Z

A few years before he died, my dad bought some land in nigeria, in an area called alagbado - a few hours' drive north of ikorodu, where my mum's family is based. i don't know why he chose this area, not somewhere closer to the city, or at least closer to where his family is here. but he did. he intended to build a home for us out here, but wasn't able to before he died 6½ years ago. one thing i learnt, growing up first generation in london, with parents with both feet still firmly planted in nigeria - they always want to go back home, but doing it remotely takes an age, especially as other things take over.

so along with other things, my mum inherited my dad's dream, to build a family house out here for all of us - partly for us to have somewhere of our own to stay when we visit, but partly in that eternal hope that one day at least one of us (me and my siblings) will want to move 'back home'.

today i came to the house for the first time in almost 6 years. the last time i saw it, it was still at the foundation stage, as far as i can remember. coming through the gates, i saw the place my mum refers to, to me and my siblings, as 'your house'. i don't know what i was expecting, exactly, but in my mind, i think i still imagined it to be a dusty building site, rods sticking out of the ground, and blocks piled up, waiting to be used. instead, there was a beautiful low building, with a warm red roof, just sitting, waiting for us.

inside was finished, but still bore the signs of the builders - everywhere full of dust and splashes of paint and cement. we spent a good couple of hours cleaning - thrashing each room with long traditional brooms, endless buckets of omo-foamed water, and more elbow grease than i ever could have believed i possessed. the neighbours (actually tenants, living in the other half of the semi-detached house) came over to help - they were amazing, and stuck with us until we could walk barefoot across each newly shiny tiled floor.

i walked through the house in semi-darkness, some lights not yet installed, others just not working, and felt like a little kid, exploring some new found treasure, delighted by things like the kitchen's walk-in store cupboard, the smaller bedroom's en suite, and just how shiny the floors are. and i imagined how happy my dad would have been to be here, to see this. and i can't wait to get back to london to tell him about it.

day 4 in nigeria - go slow

2011-11-24T00:32:00.000Z

today has been the epitome of total chilled-out-ness. which was nice - for me, given i had nothing really to achieve - not so great for people trying to be productive. it was also jumaat prayer. which was also good. but now it's gone 11pm, and there's still a plumber in our house. whilst it's nice that he's sorting out the taps, so that we don't have to keep carrying water from one room to another, i would just rather he goes home, and comes back another day to finish. he's been here at least 5 hours. which is just ridiculous. if i were him, i would no longer be doing my best work. i get the impression he's feeling the same way.

the day started before 7 am. again. with lots of waking up in the night. again. at one point, i found myself just sat up in bed, staring at the full moon. and also wishing the rooster around our way would learn when dawn is, and stick to crowing then. it's going to be weird if this whole getting up early business actually becomes a habit - my body won't know what's hit it. it could be quite an interesting change, though, becoming like a regular diurnal person. though, to be honest, i doubt there'll ever be anything either regular or diurnal about me, so no real worries there.

weirdly, i am kind of getting used to the rhythms of life here (or at least, my holiday version of it) - up just after first light, and making the most of the (relative) cool of the morning. feeding and talking to the two chickens in the back, doing a little cleaning, having a cold bucket bath, and being open for visitors by 9am (this morning, my uncle and the latest suitor - the less said about that, the better. suffice to say, my objections kind of fell on deaf ears).

my mum and aunt disappeared at about 8am, off to the offices of NEPA (national electrical power authority) - well, now called 'power holding company of nigeria, limited' which doesn't have the same ring, nor memories of cries of 'ah - nepa!' when the light (electricity) gets taken, and 'up nepa' when it comes back. they spent a few hours there yesterday, in what sounded like a semi-kafkaesque quest to sort out electricity for my mum's school, including being informed they'd been sent bills which it later turned out had never even been created, and being told they needed to come back to speak to 'the senior media manager'..? their trip today was a bit shorter, and a little more productive, but the saga is still ongoing.

jumaat prayer was at a mosque a 5 minute walk from the house. for various reasons, i've kind of fallen out of going to our local mosque at home over the past couple of years, and i do miss certain bits of being part of that community. there can be something really uplifting and comforting about taking part in communal prayer, so it's been nice to be able to experience that since i've been here, with family frequently around. today, there was the added extra of the mosque, which is just this small hall, very simple but kind of beautiful with its plain tiled floor, and cool pale walls.

the afternoon involved a load of people coming round to fix various electronic things (again, for the school) and me falling asleep (catch up for the past few nights, i reckon) and waking up to the sound of the plumber (who has just now finally, left) hammering the bathroom wall, and my cousin (another one) here with her youngest son. it's felt like a whole 'nother day again since the evening. total go slow.

late last night, i heard the sound of some sort of procession outside - i looked out to see a group of boys and young men passing by the front of the house, carrying lighters, lanterns, and every so often, letting off what looked like blowtorches. i grabbed my camera, and my cousin took me out to follow what turned out to be something called 'candle-night'. whenever one of the local 'street boys' dies, the rest have this procession to commemorate, carrying lights, chanting, and every so often letting off flames from canisters of 'fleet' (insecticide). it was slightly raucous, but fitting, somehow, to mark the death of someone still so young - very much 'rage against the dying of the light' - and fascinating to see from the outside.

tomorrow we head to alagbado - the place where my father's house is (he brought the land years before he died, and my mum has had the house built/finished, and now expanded, since he's been gone, so that we have somewhere fully of our own. mixed feelings about that.

day 3 in nigeria - we all have days like this

2011-11-23T00:14:00.000Z

i woke up scowling this morning, and have only just about stopped (it's about midday now). my bad mood persists, though. i woke up before 7am - or rather, was woken up by my mum who decided we needed to get up and clean (first reason for the day's mood, perhaps?). being made to get up and clean the house at 7am when i'm supposedly on holiday, after a third night of little sleep (once again, combination of the heat, and sharing a bed with my mum).

second reason for foul mood - the other day, my uncle came home with these truly horrible mouse traps - they are basically mini mats of glue - the mice are attracted on to them by some scent thing, and then stick to it. they're the most horrendous things you can imagine - i walked into the living room this morning to find two mice, stuck and struggling to get off. and that's it - they'll just stay and struggle there until they starve to death, or give themselves a heart attack from pulling, or just curl up and give up the will to live when they realise there's no point in doing anything else. i guess one of the things that's increased my bad mood around that particular thing is being angry at myself for not making more of a case against them, or maybe sabotaging them somehow (i didn't even think of that until now). but that's it - when he gets back, i'm going to show him his handy work, and ask him to never bring those things here ever again. jeez.

third reason - being informed that my (other) uncle was still bringing the guy (that was supposed to come yesterday). and they actually turned up today. they've just left. i didn't allow it to be uncomfortable, because i basically spent the whole time between the kitchen and my room, listening to gnarls barkley and flight of the conchords, polite when i had to interact, but underneath brimming baleful belligerence. i had a chance to talk to my mum very briefly, and tell her how irritated i was by the whole situation, and then to tell my uncle, very politely, but as honestly as possible, that 1) with regards to this particular guy, i was a bit surprised that he would just bring along someone who he knows very little about (i said it a little more forthrightly to my mum), and 2) i didn't see the point in him introducing me to guys here, when i have no intention to ever reside in nigeria long-term (yes, i did use the word 'reside'). His replies? 1) 'i'll bring someone else tomorrow, that i know better'; 2)"maybe they'll want to travel"… d'aaaaaaaaaaaaargh!!!
i've spent the past 11 years having to put up with this, falling foul of parents/various 'mosque uncles/aunties'/other people for 'not giving it a go', being 'too fussy', or, my favourite, 'waiting for mr perfect' whenever i have the audacity to tell them i don't particularly want to meet the latest suitor, or deciding after meeting them that we're not compatible. and on it goes.

as for this guy? turned out he's an insurance executive and looks about the same age as my baby brother (as far as we were able to ascertain - what with my uncle going by his cv, given that he doesn't actually know - he's 26… 26..?). he seemed like a nice enough guy - but then again, so do most people on first meeting. saying goodbye to him and my uncle was one of my highlights of the day.
insurance executive. tch!
- - - - - - -

about 7pm - have just had an argument with my mum about the mouse traps (and yes, i do realise more and more this whole entry is making me sound like a 14 year-old… deal with it). my cousin came round earlier, and i asked him to get rid of them. he got rid of the mice, but brought back the traps. idiot. i told him i didn't want them in this house anymore. so he left them outside the door. more fool me for not getting rid of them while i had the chance.
when my mum got back, she noticed they were missing - she asked who got rid of the mice, and then asked where the traps were. when i told her how i felt about them, and suggested instead we do something a little more practical and less cruel - i don't know, like block the gap under the kitchen door. i was told i always have unrealistic solutions. admittedly, my suggestion of a cat yesterday wasn't necessarily likely to be possible, given we don't live here, but then, blocking the gap under the door is quite possibly the polar opposite of unrealistic. given that my aunt said there's a welder just up the road and we can speak to him in the morning, i'd go so far as to say it definitely falls within the realms of a real thing that could indeed possibly occur.
- - - - -

8pm - had semi-calmer discussion with my mum. result - we're getting the welder in. i've closed the traps (well actually, got my cousin to close them, disgusting things that they are). everyone's happy (well, as long as my mum doesn't find out the traps are closed…)

tomorrow will resume normal service i hope (i.e. less petulant teenage-type angst, more level-headed adult-type observation… maybe). plans to leave the house again (after, of course, the suitor visit - oh, how i laughed when i joked about being married off when i came over), and maybe actually see a bit more of town. can't believe it'll be friday already - no more slow time for me.

day 2 in nigeria - live by the horn, drive by the horn

2011-11-22T00:00:00.004Z

I left the house today, for the first time since I arrived. A stone mason from Ibadan came down to talk business with my Mum - she's expanding the school she's built here, building on new plots of land not far from the original school.

Driving in Nigeria is… a consummate skill (is that a tautology?). There is no room for timidity or poor technique, because if you display either, there is a great possibility you will die. I have much respect for anyone that commandeers a vehicle on the roads of Lagos - and cannot fathom people who seem perfectly happy to put their lives into the hands of okada (the small motorcycles that act as taxis) which flit in and out of other traffic, often with the bags carried by the passengers brushing the trucks, buses and cars that they zoom between. And yet, perhaps because of the difficulty of manoeuvring the roads (at least, in the areas in and around Ikorodu, where my Mum's family all live), from what I can see at least, there seems to be a whole lot less road rage. When you're busy trying to find a safe path around all the holes and ridges that make up bits of the road, you've not got time to stop and swear at anyone that jumps in ahead of you. Impatience is reserved for people that are too slow - like I said, you can't afford to be driving like a learner on these roads. And everywhere you go by road, the sound of every vehicle's horn sounds almost the whole time - as a warning to pedestrians in tight spots, when turning into or out of a junction, when you're over-taking, when you're passing a bus being loaded up with passengers, when you're backing out of your compound onto the road etc etc. Again, it's very rarely used as it is in London - just for the sake of signalling annoyance, or just for being an idiot (e.g. blaring horns when you're in a hold up - what is the point - as my mum would say: 'you want to fly?').

I saw my first cockroach of the trip yesterday. It was just emerging from the kitchen's walk-in store room. Luckily I didn't spy it till after my mission in there to get some container or other. I have a serious phobia of cockroaches. I mean, serious. Anyone who's seen my behaviour around moths or butterflies - that is nothing compared to this. I once smashed the tiles in our kitchen with a hammer, killing the tiniest cockroach. Another time, one touched my hand - I nearly broke said hand whacking it against the cupboard. My feelings towards them verge on the hysterical - I can't even bear to look at pictures of them in books, talk less touch them. Sharing a house with them is one of the only few things I've never been able to adapt to out here. Intermittent electricity? Yeah, you get used to that very quickly, and it's not as much of a hassle as you might imagine. One hour journeys that take about three times as long? Again, something you just learn to accommodate, and not bother to freak out about - a good time to catch up on reading, correspondence, and new music. But the house-invading cockroaches - eugh! Trips to the toilet take doubly long, as I check the place over throughly each time, making sure none are going to corner me once it's too late to get out. This is especially fun at night when there's no electricity - thank you, torch. And once I've seen one, I start seeing them everywhere - even when they're not. Eugh - just the sight of those antennas, even just the thought of them, makes my skin crawl. I was thinking earlier today, it would have been a real shame for Indianna Jones if I was the woman that had to put my hand in that hatch full of bugs and insects to pull the switch to stop the room crushing him - he totally would have died in there. I'd have been full of remorse, but there'd have been no way I could have just grit my teeth and let anything crawl on me - eugh!

Anyways, in a turn up for the books, and one of the times when Nigerian timing worked in my favour, my uncle called earlier in the day to postpone the meeting he'd arranged today. Shame.

I went to visit my Mum's school today - more on this another time. It was cool to see these little kids there, all eager and and attentive, though they seemed to be learning stuff that looked really hard for such small people (I'm sure in primary school, I never learnt that water was 'tasteless, formless and odourless' - it was just wet, and fun to splash with.). And after the school, I got to chase and recapture a few of my cousin's chicks, which kept escaping from the barn they live in, and then being really confused as to how to get back in. I could totally be a chicken-chasing farmer.

Seeing the ram slaughtered yesterday, I was struck again by this luxury of remove that most meat eaters in the UK have from where their succulent steaks or juicy drumsticks come from. I once had a friend who said she couldn't bear the sight of raw meat, because it reminded her too much of what it actually used tp be. Whereas I reckon if you're going to eat meat, you should at the very least acknowledge that you're eating dead animals. Going a step further, I'd say that everyone that eats meat should see at least one animal slaughtered - perhaps that could be one way to persuade people to eat meat a little less often, or at least be a little more thoughtful in their carnivorous consumption.

Anyways. I'm finishing this in the dark - the generator's off, and so is the electricity. For the first time, I've just realised how quiet it is outside at night. I can hear crickets, and very little else. I could get used to going to bed surrounded by silence. So, even intermittent electricity has its upsides.

day 1 in nigeria

2011-11-21T00:00:00.004Z

So, while i was away in nigeria, i vaguely decided to keep a sort of record of my time there. it's not a proper blog, definitely not a travel-log, and at times reads like a 12 year old's diary - ah well. i plan to post a new entry each day. and once i get sorted, there'll be photos.

- - - - -

Since getting home,

I have learnt to value water and respect heat to the proper extent,
I have slept fitfully, 3 of us to a bed, full grown
and learnt that sleep really can be an enjoyable alternative wakefulness
I have become relaxed in dressing, learnt the ridiculousness of vests and socks, the superfluousness of sleeves,
tights have been replaced by a silky sheen of perspiration,
and I have become used to feeling its trickle down my temple, or edging over a nostril
I befriended the goat in our compound, untied it so it could roam and nose and butt in the hour before I saw its throat cut, and family and hired cooks cut and cleaned it, preparing the Eid feast
I have considered kidnapping the coolest, cutest baby known to woman, one of the many children of one of my many cousins, whose many names mainly elude me
and I have not bothered to pretend to remember when asked the faces of those whose owners i barely knew before
I have started to feel at home
- - - - - -

I've only been up 4 hours (or maybe 5 - there are no clocks around, and my watch has been stuffed in my hand luggage since last night) but it feels like a whole day has passed. I'm only just knowing the meaning of time passing slowly.

Last night I fell asleep to the sounds of James Blake (mainly 'a case of you' and 'I never learnt to share'), and Mashrou' Leila (mainly 'shim el yasmine'), overlaid by the gentle thud and whir of the ceiling fan. When I went to bed, I was the only one in it. I woke up confused in the night - I knew I was sharing the bed with my mum, but couldn't figure out who the figure in the middle was. i was too sleepy to put my glasses on or even think about it too much, and too tired to figure if it was real or part of a vague half-waking dream. When I visited Tunisia a few years ago, the first couple of nights in our apartment, I had what I guess now were night terrors - lying in bed, paralysed, and seeing someone stood at the door of the room, just watching me (though there was, of course, never anyone there). This didn't feel scary like that, but it could have just as easily been my imagination.
- - - - -

Twenty to seven. The sun's gone down, and the party participants have mainly departed - teachers from my mum's school here, various members of my dad's side of the family. outside, the olopo is packing up her giant pots, and some of my younger cousins are sweeping with long packed brooms. i'm sat in the darkness of the living room - we had electricity this morning, but it went off mid-afternoon. at least we got some. hopefully it'll come back on sometime soon, so we can have the fan on to go to sleep. actually, a cousin's just turned on the generator - the lights flicker, but at least we can see, and the fan does its work just as well.

I've not felt this relaxed in ages, nor quite so unobligated. i'm quite amazed that i've not felt more withdrawal symptoms for the internet. i guess the bits that i miss (basically being in touch with certain people, and knowing what's going on) are just about equally balanced out by the bits that i really don't (being able to work remotely - i know if i had internet connection, i would have logged into work at least once today; and knowing what's going on - sometimes it's nice to not hear the latest horrible headlines, to be blissfully ignorant, even if only for a few days).

And seeing family - it's been a good reunion - again, this lack of obligation. So i've spent bits of the day outside with people, other bits inside, either doing stuff, or nothing much at all, but throughout, for the most part, have been left to my own devices. I haven't been to Nigeria for 5½ years. It's weird to meet kids whose existence I wasn't even aware of, to meet others who are now adults, who were still smaller than me when i last saw them. It's been nice to be welcomed but also not to be made too much of a fuss over - like i've been away from home quite a while, and it's nice to have me back, but no need to treat me weird.
- - - - -

Ah - should have known there couldn't be a gathering of family without the M question coming up. My uncle apparently asked my mum how things were with regards to me having met someone, and rather than telling him she was sure i'd be fine, she has apparently agreed to me being introduced to some guy tomorrow. Ach!! She's just told me this - i've gone from being blissfully unencumbered to scowlingly irritated in a stroke - always nice to have no say whatsoever in this! She's working on the premise of 'well, you never know'. I'm working on the premise of 'oh, i don't know, over ten years' worth of 'introductions' means i can make a pretty good guess'. Damn it.
- - - - -

I guess we'll see what tomorrow brings...

Dr Nawal Al Saadawi at Occupy LSX - videos

2011-11-07T02:30:00.003Z

Here are the videos of Nawal Al Saadawi at the Occupy LSX camp a couple of weeks ago. There are a couple of interviews, and a few clips of Dr Nawal talking to the camp. It was a brilliant, inspiring occassion, and I just wish I'd got the videos out sooner.

First interview - "I feel I am in Tahrir Square - I feel we are in one world - I feel this is a global revolution...We have the same goal"

Second interview, with the Guardian - "we have to be one, we have to be one"

"Tahrir Square everywhere!"

Slightly circular discussion with a tourist - 'election can be a deception - we have to decide when the election can come... we, the revolution"

Address to the camp on the steps of St Paul's - "the struggle is global ... we live in one world...we are together...we have to fight together...one world"

celebration and inspiration - saturday 22nd - occupy lsx (part 2)

2011-10-29T15:45:00.000+01:00

The excitement of Dr Nawal's visit set off a day of celebration and wider sharing of inspiration, as Occupy LSX celebrated their first full week at St Paul's. The actions of the Dean of St Paul's (closing the Cathedral with no apparent good reason) did not detract from the Public Assembly, and perhaps swelled its numbers - i spoke to a few tourists who were sympathetic to the aims of the camp, thought the closure of the cathedral was, at best, unnecessary (and also foolish), and who were happy to be entertained and welcomed on its steps instead.

The camp's open day started with spoken word poets and musicians who managed to mix political engagement with lyrical skills that pulled in an evergrowing crowd. Stone steps and pavement aren't exactly the ideal bleachers, but no-one seemed to notice or care, as were appraised of the new political abc, and reminded that Jesus was a revolutionary.

The floor was then opened to activists, and representatives from groups from all around London. They came to share information, inspiration and solidarity, the latter being strongly reciprocated by the crowd of campers and visitors alike.

While the talks went on, Tent City University hosted a 'tour of Corporate Greed' - little did any not involved in the planning of this realise what it would lead to... A few words on the beautiful occupation of Finsbury Square to follow in another blog.

For now though, some pictures from the Public Assembly.

ps - my favourite random moment from the day was, after a bit of displeasure from the crowd at the poet dennis, just dennis being hurried as he went over time, the saxophonist stepping up and doing an impromptu jazz version of 'somewhere over the rainbow' to sooth everyone's ruffled feathers. it worked, i think.

you can check out the rest of the photos from last weekend on my flickr account, just here.

celebration and inspiration - saturday 22nd october - occupy lsx (part 1)

2011-10-29T13:50:00.001+01:00

A week ago, St Paul's Occupy LSX camp was visited by the brilliant author and life-long activist, Dr Nawal Al Saawadi, one of the outstanding voices and faces of the Egyptian revolution. She came to share her own experiences, and words of encouragement. She urged the campers not to be moved, to stay for as long as they needed to, and to believe the struggle would not be in vain. Visiting the camp on her 80th birthday, she refuted that this was a movement of the youth - it is, she stated, 'everyone's revolution'.

As she moved about the camp, she was followed like a sage dispensing wisdom to adoring followers. Which , I guess, is almost exactly the case. What was also lovely was how she was also inspired by the existence of the camp, and the Occupy movement around the world - she motioned to the camp:

"To me, this feels like Tahrir Square...being here is like living a dream"

Rather than try to reproduce her simple but totally rousing words of encouragement and inspiration here, i'll post the videos and photos i shot (some videoing was secured with the help of kind and willing people nearby, as i went crazy with my other camera). i also point you to the first edition of Occupied Times, which features an interview with the doctor ('this is not a revolution').

I got the chance to chat to Dr Nawal a little, which was at once awe-inspiring but also somehow normal as she just spoke to everyone with such ease and not a bit of remove. She said she may use a few of my photos in an article she was going home to write (if i believed in being nonchalant about stuff, i'd apply that here - but i totally don't, so i am super-excited at this possibility).

Right, I'll leave the rest to the photos and videos (more videos will follow once they've finished uploading to photobucket. flickr - sort it out, with your 1.30 limit on videos!), though with the final word to Dr Nawal:

"Hope is power...we will win!"

catching up - Occupy LSX and Occupy FS (others to follow)

2011-10-29T11:19:00.003+01:00

the past week seems to have zoomed by faster than the speed of neutrinos on uppers! i wish this analogy could be applied to me also, but unfortunately, I seemed to have compensated by sinking into a go-slow, overloaded with:

- work-work (i leave my current job in a week, and there suddenly seem to be way too many loose-ends that need securing),

-home-work (visitors from liverpool; a naming ceremony; packing to go to nigeria, and more importantly, getting my mum off yesterday morning...we arrived at the airport at 5.40am...i dozed my way through work),

and life-work (um, well, i say 'work' - tweeting, readingarticles, being in touch with friends and going to see John Osborne's brilliant 'John Peel's Shed' have hardly been taxing - they just take time).

my eager blogging of the week before has fallen by the way side this week, but maybe in part because there's been so much going on, it's been a bit much fitting in the part where i sit down and relate bits of it. rather than squeeze it all into one giant blog, though, i'll do a few blogs with photos of stand out bits. so yes, click on to the next.

for a quicker catch up, though, you can just check out my flickr photostream: www.flickr.com/knox1013

occupy LSX - day 7 - shift in faith

2011-10-22T00:16:00.000+01:00

Today:

- the catherdal issued this statement which basically can be summed up by the following excerpt from the Dean's open letter to OccupyLSX:

"With a heavy heart I have to tell you that St Paul’s Cathedral has to be closed today until further notice, because of the legal requirements placed upon us by fire, health and safety issues."

- a statement was issued by OccupyLSX in return, basically stating that the camp feels it has met the requirements placed by the London Fire Brigade, and Health & Safety officials.

The conclusion of an emergency meeting held this afternoon was a consensus that the camp will stay in place for now, and continue to pursue a positive dialogue with the church, in terms of finding out what exactly are the issues to health & safety, given the above all-clear.

I took a BBC reporter to task for

In other news, tomorrow there will be celebrations of the camp's first week anniversary; there will be a public assembly at 1pm; and there is a march around the city, due to leave the Cathedral at 2.30pm - come along and bring your friends.

Final thing - I've realised a few things over the past week:

- I possibly should not be allowed a twitter account, as I quote and retweet with a vengeance, and have probably dizzied anyone attempting to follow

- My usual reticence to blog about news and current affairs, especially international events stems from not feeling I know enough about them. I've blogged all this week, following events at OccupyLSX, but the reason I've felt able to do that is because I've been there. I still don't feel qualified to get too deep into the politics of it, but I can relay my impressions and experiences.

- I really enjoy blogging and spreading the word. So maybe this will be the springboard for me to move onto things further afield. Events in Somalia, Syria, Yemen, Palestine, Afghanistan, Egypt, Libya (and the list goes on and on) and of course those around the UK, are all ones that I am deeply interested in, and want to raise awareness of. But I still worry - about my lack of knowledge, about passing on information I don't know for sure, about making an idiot of myself... I'm thinking Twitter (especially in the past week) has been a good introduction to attempting to approach a more 'to hell with it' attitude (today I had a go at a BBC reporter for being biased in his live report - which he denied!). I guess I'll see.

Meanwhile, just a few photos from today.

Emergency assembly - spirits remained high - as did numbers

Rather confusing sign - are they closed or not?

Hmmm - the hi-vis jackets seemed to have cleared the camp - but they've moved vans into Paternoster Square...

occupy LSX - day 6 - photos - Solidarity, harmony

2011-10-21T00:56:00.000+01:00

Few words today, as I am falling down tired. Realised that my enthusiasm and need to get to the camp every day, and determination to blog every night is meaning even less sleep than I usually get. Still, probably more sleep (and definitely more comfortable) than those sleeping out on the cobbles, with just a a few pieces of canvas and zotefoam (new word, learnt tonight - thanks AG) as a pretence at shelter.

Tonight at camp, the projector showed pictures of occupy groups around the world. I was open-mouth stunned at the sea of people in so many of the places shown. The solidarity of this movement is such an important element - feeling, seeing, knowing it is not just us, we are not alone in this struggle, in these feelings of discontentment. This is truly a global movement, and I hope it is true that it is 'too big to fail'.

Over by the sukkah, a Jewish service was held for the festival of succot (please, please correct me if I have this detail wrong!). Congregants invited all to join, as they sang (beautifully harmonious somehow, even with people singing at various speeds) and read from the Torah. It was good humoured, warm and inviting, and attracted a small crowd.

I had the most amazing cheese sandwich by the way - just two slices of some absolutely unbelievably tasty garlic bread with chunky slices of cheese. It took about twenty minutes to eat, as I kept stopping to take photos, and chat to friends, but all the way to the Blackfriars Bridge busstop I kept bring it back up to my friend..."that really was an amazing cheese sandwich". I obviously need to get out more.

And as we left camp, tonight's prolonged general assembly were discussing the contentious issue of whether or not to implement a ban on alcohol and drugs on the site. As we left, the discussion was still in full swing, but a few tweets seem to indicate a ban has been agreed, in the interest of the safety of all at the camp (again, if anyone knows better, please do correct me on this).

Finally, looking across the swell of tents, as I do each evening, noting changes and growth, it was clear to see the city grid structure had been successfully put into places. Walkways run through blocks of tents, adding to the order already apparent in many areas of the camp. Wishing all in those tents (whatever city, country or continent) a peaceful night's rest.

In death, dignity defied

2011-10-20T16:07:00.000+01:00

there is rarely ever dignity in the end

for the cornered oppresor,

fleeing

fluttering freefall from self-imposed pedestals,

more so this truth

and many rejoice

toss words like 'comeuppance' 'good riddance'

as though in that time of meting out oppression

they stood at the front line of opposition

voices echo loud now

raised in victory

while boots sink in to flesh not yet cold

the world watching, a sympathetic nod at this indecency

there's rarely ever dignity in the end,

for the cornered oppressor

more so this truth

but the indignities beyond death

they paint no pretty pictures either

not for those once oppressed

nor the onlookers,

grinning sympathy, wolfishly watching

occupy LSX - day 5 - growing steadily, going slow

2011-10-20T00:54:00.001+01:00

The news this morning (especially that around the brutal eviction of Dale Farm) had me start the day feeling fed up and more than a litle hopeless. What I see at Occupy LSX, and hear from the Occupy Movement in general, restored the hope that things can be different.

Today I got to spend a good few hours at the camp. Every day I note this, but... every day, it seems, in between my visits, there is growth and there is progress. Talks, workshops and working groups continue - having attended a working group myself for the first time since Saturday, and also signing up to the Indy Media team, I find still a great level of incusion, real listening, and a welcoming of various ideas and opinions.

General Assembly - rumours that the Cathedral have asked Occupy LSX to leave were officially quashed. It seems The Times and the Evening Standard have got their facts wrong (great journalism as usual, then!) - a good inidcation, perhaps, that the initial positive reporting on Occupy LSX (what there was of it) has waned now.

Other announcements included the launch of 'Tent City University' - a fee-less educational establishment open to everyone. The tech tent is now up and running 24 hours a day. They have added a projector to their store of technical goods, allowing for the camp to link up to other Occupy groups across the UK and around the world. Solidarity is the word!

There was also a call for a change to the layout of the tents, following an inspection by the London Fire Brigade. Some time tomorrow morning, Tent City really will become one - the shelter team are mapping it out into a safer, grid based system, and the morning will bring a mass re-modelling of the site.

Perhaps due to spending more than just an hour or so at the camp today, or maybe continued visits, that have allowed me to learn names and chat to more people, I found a real sense of being part of a community. It was more than just taking part in meetings, though, or feeling my voice was just as valid as every other person's there, though that definitely played a part. I think there is something about this microcommunity that reflects the very best of our potential as people - courtesy, inclusion, honesty, diversity, passion and humility. Very difficult to put without sounding a touch yoghurt-weavery, but it really does feel like a demonstration of how things could be.

Tonight I prayed in the meditation tent, making my prostrations in a space which was also being used at the same time by a Jewish camper, and a non-religious meditation group. Again, that feeling of how things should be - the simplicity of the settings encouraging a lack of unnecessary boundaries.

There's still so much left to do - in a group on direct action, people debated on whether we work quickly to present a single unified message to the media, or consider the fact that there are no quick fixes, and we're in this for the long haul. Gradual change, with time for careful consideration, seems to be the hope that emerged - as one member of the Spanish Indignado Movement (15m) pointed out: quick solutions have been tried before, and they've failed. We don't want to rush into anything knee-jerk, or poorly thought out. It will take time - a concept that perhaps doesn't fit with a world that thinks in annual returns and 4 year political terms. Then again, all the more evidence that a new mindset is needed, a new approach to creating solutions that may take longer to reach, but will hopefully because of that have foundations that see them last, positively, and well beyond the immediate future.

Entering the meditation tent

If you know anyone who tunes pianos, tell them Occupy LSX would be happy to see them!

occupy LSX - day 4 - photos - signs

2011-10-19T00:34:00.001+01:00

Only ended up being able to spend a v brief time at occupy lsx this evening. While there, though, I was struck by the number of visitors it seems to be receiving. Tourists streamed through, taking photos, marvelling at the efficiency of something that apparently is just 'a bunch of benefit scroungers'... Hmmmm. Well, if that's the level of organisation, cooperation and true democracy that results from benefit scrounger, maybe we need a few more in power... oh wait, maybe that's what the expenses scandal was all about...

A man asked another to film him beneath the 'Tahrir Square' sign, as he spoke in Arabic about what was happening around him. A group of German high school students were led through, and an American couple were shown around, commenting on how great it was that the camp got the backing of the church.

As usual (is it already 'usual'? I guess it is), walking round, I encountered a number of meetings, talks and people chatting - about the financial system, about activism, about how to make their tent stay up.

A group of Jewish visitors and campers (including the storyteller, Rachel Rose Reid) struggled against the wind to put up a sukkah. There are hopes to hold an event on Thursday to coincide with the Jewish festival.

Chatting to a friend who I took along, we noted the fantastic symbolism of the camp - the juxtaposition of the tent village - simple, ever-growing, basic but effective, laid out next to the majestic and rich buildings of Paternoster Square. A brilliant distillation of a few of the problems that the occupy movement exists to eradicate. I'd like to believe that's not wishful thinking. The dedication of all involved, and the increasing media attention makes me think perhaps it is not.

Tech tent

The recycling system

Media coverage

Library talk

Occupy LSX - day 3 - photos - free love and true grit

2011-10-18T04:14:00.001+01:00

Just a quickish one tonight.

I ended up going down to the camp not once but twice tonight. I had the idea to take down, from all the things on the camp's needed list, sand. Well, grit, if you want to be technical. I got there to be told that there'd been a call for sand just a few minutes back. Lots of questions about where I'd got it and wonderings if I could get any more gave me the idea of going back. So I did. Dragged my brother out of the house at about 11.00, and headed down with even more of the stuff. All gratefully received.

At the camp this evening, I was bemused once again by how much things had grown since I was there the day before. The camp has a library now, and while I was there, a talk was being given outside it by Hamish Watson on 'Eternal Revolution - the dialectic of universal history'. The field kitchen is now rather massive, and while I was there, I witnessed the arrival of the Info Point's new gazebo, fully formed and seeming to float through the sea of tents (it is 3.38, and I am feeling somewhat fanciful).

Evident also tonight was a feeling of celebration - a sound system pumped out Lowkey's Soundtrack to the Struggle, surrounded by a small crowd, singing and dancing, and to the back of the camp, a band of guitars, trumpets, even sax, sat together, jamming and entertaining a growing crowd.

Amidst all this, neighbours chatted, and I was invited to stay over. Maybe another night.

And then there was the beautiful coincidence. Leaving the camp, i was approached by two women offering free hugs. I shrugged, smiled, and accepted. As the second woman stepped back, I noticed she was wearing a pink hoodie. I think I may possibly have hooted in excitement when I recognised it as the one my Mum had donated the day before. My Mum now has an express invitation to come down and meet its new owner.

So, a few photos from tonight.

Crowd listening to Hamish Watson's talk outsde the library

"Free free - Palestine!"

Even the police seemed to betaking it easy... I saw groups of them laughing

and some chatting to campers.

The newly massive field kitchen tent

and the 'floating' info point gazebo.

"beyond this line is occupied space. please come join us"

'capitalism is...' tourists taking photos in front of the camp.

Thebeautiful coincidence - "bring your Mum down, and I will hug her"

occupy LSX - day 2 - photos - donation drop-off

2011-10-17T01:50:00.001+01:00

I went down to the camp tonight with my brother and a friend, with a few things to donate. My Mum really took it to heart when I asked for stuff, and gave me a load of her jumpers to take down. My brother too. We took blankets, quilts and some candles and water. But the thing that seemed to cause the most delight was a little torch, decorated as a tiger, that is generated by pumping a handle. The guys in the donation tent seemed to be quite happy with that.

The feel in the camp (we arrived at about 10pm or so) was calm, quiet and chilled. Groups of people gathered on the cathedral steps, behind the city of tents, and in others spaces. What sounded like bhodrans were played softly somewhere, and even the police in front of paternoster square seemed relatively chilled.

Once again, sad to leave, but looking forward to going back.

To find out what you can take to help, check here.

Meanwhile, A few more photos.

Photoessay - occupyLSX

2011-10-16T01:08:00.000+01:00

I recognise that recording guy from other protests (and is that Toby Anstis next to him...)

A number of great banners...

People sit and sup coffee in the midst of protestors

A biblical reminder...

Police block all entrances to Paternoster Square

A protestor tells the police what's what, with the crowd chanting 'join us!'...

...they don't seem bothered.

Legal notice from Paternoster Square (?)

Beautifully calm protestor facing line of police

I guess they just couldn't look her in the eye

The kettling started early in the day

External communications

This guy was a parody of a Fox News reporter - so brilliant - I initially was sucked in

Families with young children were out, and some camped later

The first general assembly

Someone else taken in by the Fox News pretenders

Some more banners

Holy in agreement

BBC reporter - talking to calm, rational people - I hear that's not how things were reported. idiot.

Our working group on process

Member of Wisdom In Nature makes a contribution

Crowd in agreement (aka jazz hands)

Note the police lines closing in...

Information Point sets up... (left hand corner of the front of the cathedral)

Police with riot gear charge in

They don't care...

And just to add a little more of an edge, attack dogs...

Police line the perimeter

Yet, despite this, the crowd remain in good spirits

Bizarrest sight of the day - across the road, someone watches Strictly Ballroom on a giant screen

Looking in from outside - police keeping out people who want to protest

Parting shot

The day the occupation came to town

2011-10-15T23:42:00.001+01:00

It seems surreal to be sat at my desk typing this - my heart is still back at St Paul's with new found family and friends from today's first day of London's Occupation - Occupy London Stock Exchange.

OccupyLSX (one of the tags from twitter, and a tag being used for it on the livestream also) began at midday today. Protestors gathered outside St Pauls, meaning to march the short distance to Paternoster Square, the home of London's Stock Exchange.

In what seemed to me an auspicious sign, my friend and I bumped into Billy Bragg on our way down, and walked there with him. Definitely a big positive to start the protest.

The police were out in force even at the start of the march - Paternoster Square was well and truly protected, and the protest moved back to St Paul's itself.

A General Assembly began - hundreds (and actually, probably thousands) sat and stood in front of the steps of the cathedral, as small groups discussed and fed back thoughts, feelings, strategies, proposals and plans. It was a beautiful thing - such a degree of organisation and cooperation coming from a massive crowd of people who'd never met each other before. The common purpose and feeling of solidarity - both amongst protestors there, but also felt with those occupying and protesting all around the world, permeated strongly throughout the day.

Several working groups were formed, including those to discuss process, legal, food, sanitation and many other topics. In my group, we discussed process, thinking about the decision making process within the whole camp, working at a way that all voices that want and need to could be heard, either through consensus or some other method.

An info point was agreed on and set up. It is located at the corner of the cathedral - on the left hand side if you are facing it.
Its purpose:
- to collate information from each of the working groups and feed this back to anyone visiting the info desk
- to provide a daily list of planned meetings, workshops, agendas
- to act as a way to find out what's happening around camp

The thrill of working and sharing with others determined to make this all work was only equalled by the level of positive energy, goodwill and compassion shown again and again within the camp. People pooled resources - offering up paper, pens, tape, donating food and drink to the kitchen space that has been set up, responding to calls for volunteers instantly.

As the evening fell, police numbers swelled, and the force made their presence increasingly known. They had gradually moved their lines in, closing in on the camp by degrees. Following a distorted loud-speaker announcement, police lines charged into the crowd. As protestors urged others to sit down and stay calm, police, some in hi-vis, others in riot gear, barged their way through people, not caring who was hit by swinging helmets or boots.
Their goal, it seems, was to get a line of police across the front of the cathedral. Linking this up with the lines of police round the back and sides, they effectively kettled most of the camp.

Behind the back lines, in the space between those being kept in and the hundreds being kept out, the police also brought out attack dogs. They seemed to want to do what they could to intimidate and aggravate*.

Despite this aggresive stance, and with some understandable unrest amongst protestors, the crowd stayed relatively calm. People were urged to sit down, and the general assembly continued. No matter how much they tried, the police couldn't kill the good feeling and purpose of the camp.

*In all fairness, I should note - not all the police were out to terrify. I saw some officers chatting and joking with protestors (all the while keeping their lines tight) and most responses to any of my questions posed to officers were civil, at the very least.

In true Nigerian style, I was ordered home by my mum. he said she'd seen us on the tv. This was when I found out the BBC reporter I'd seen earlier had done the typical BBC thing of presenting a skewed view of what had been going on, thus freaking out waiting loved ones not at the camp.

I left with a heart heavy to be taking leave of the occupation, but determined to share as much as I can, and get back tomorrow with supplies. You can do this too: blog, tweet, share on facebook and everywhere you can think of. Lobby local newstations and papers to cover this. Go down to St Paul's to donate blankets, tents, food, warm clothes and anything else you can think of.

With regards to the police's somewhat aggressive tactics, I also want to point out: there was no time I felt unsafe or like things had gotten out of hand. I felt protected by fellow protestors, and also did not witness any violence (just bullish behaviour towards the camp). There were people there with young children. This camp's intentions are powerful but peaceful. Do not be scared away from bringing your support.

You can find all of my photos from today in this set on flickr. Feel free to share (under the creative commons: Attribution - non-derivative - non-commercial)

distracted, disappeared, but still here

2011-10-06T02:10:00.000+01:00

i have been poor at being in touch with the world, with most people that know me recently. e-mails (both at work, and at home) have festered in my in-box, and taunted me each time i check for new ones, but never quite get round to replying to old ones.

i've been distracted by a couple of things - readdressing personal demons; changes in my work life (new job) following some difficult times. it's all happened rather quickly, and though i am now today finally happy and relieved to have been offered this new job, i am sad to be leaving connect - it's a wrench to be leaving somewhere that has become like family (albeit, as a colleague said to me today, a dysfunctional one at times - like with all families). there's also been some major upheaval for some close friends. that has taken a lot of time and emotional energy, which i have felt happy to be able to devote, and happy to be the one turned to. f.nally, i've also started volunteering on a helpline - just 6 hours a week, but that feels like a lot to fit in with work and home life, continuing as though they are inevitable.

also, in the past few weeks, i have joined twitter. fascinating, and mind expanding, but with the power to baffle, bemuse and bog down in an instant.

this has all meant i've neglected other things, though. more than anything, the past month has taught me that a combination of being depressed and dealing with a couple of other issues take up a lot more capacity than i realised - i've taken to sleeping in my niece's room, as my own bed is covered in stuff that really needs tidying away. neglected e-mails jab at me form the inbox, as i tweet to save palestine/afghanistan/yemen/the world.

i need to regain some balance. i think after tonight, that will start to happen - actually, already today, it has started. i have blogs that need writing (about work, about other stuff), pictures that need sharing, but most of all, people that need contacting.

to any friends who read this and are waiting to hear back from me - i am sorry - am, really - and i am getting on the case. i am sorting it. i am stepping up to the mark. so, keep your eyes on your inbox. i may have disappeared, but really, i'm still here.

Troy Davis. Amnesty. Please.

2011-09-16T00:20:00.000+01:00

I heard about this case through a blog by my sister. I am hoping that me writing this will do for others out there what hers did for me - raise awareness, set me on the path to taking whatever little action that I can, and passing this on so others can do the same.

This is one of those stories that's acted as a reminder, in my happy go trippy life, that this kind of thing is going on still - blatant miscarriages of justice, in a guise of justice so poorly portrayed, it feels surreal that it's even possible. Just today, through a river-boat captain's commentary, i found out what the punishment for pirates used to be on the thames - and i was just struck by how barbaric humans can be to other humans, and call it 'justice'.

The rest of the blog after this paragraph will be copied, verbatim, from Amnesty USA's site. It has the relevant facts, and links to follow to do something. Even if all you do is post a link to the Amnesty page, that is something awesome. Please do pass this on. If you can, take an action. It's one of those situations where someone's life really could depend on it. Thanks.

Too Much Doubt

Troy Davis was convicted of murdering a Georgia police officer in 1991. Nearly two decades later, Davis remains on death row — even though the case against him has fallen apart.

The case against him consisted entirely of witness testimony which contained inconsistencies even at the time of the trial. Since then, all but two of the state's non-police witnesses from the trial have recanted or contradicted their testimony.
Many of these witnesses have stated in sworn affidavits that they were pressured or coerced by police into testifying or signing statements against Troy Davis.
One of the two witnesses who has not recanted his testimony is Sylvester "Red" Coles — the principle alternative suspect, according to the defense, against whom there is new evidence implicating him as the gunman. Nine individuals have signed affidavits implicating Sylvester Coles.
Breaking News: An execution date for Troy Davis is scheduled for September 21! In the days before Davis' execution, the Georgia Board of Pardons & Paroles will hold a final clemency hearing – a final chance to prevent Troy Davis from being executed.

Read More

Get Involved

East Africa - appealing

2011-09-13T13:26:00.000+01:00

For weeks, I've wanted to write about the crisis in East Africa, mainly in Somalia. And each time, something has pulled me back - I get overwhelmed by my lack of knowledge, or the enormity of the issue, or the idea that me (some random who writes random inanities about cinemas disappearing and sometimes gets too upset by the world to watch the news) could have anything worthwhile to say on the matter.

But I realise those are all just procrastinatory tactics. Yes, I'm frightened I'll say something stupid, but since when did that ever stop me before..?!

And anyways, all I want to do is put the same stuff out there that many have already, just to spread that info, and maybe if even just one more person knows a little more about what is happening, and one more person pledges of donates or passes on that knowledge to others, then it's not in vain.

The following I've stolen directly from a friend's blog, Zayna Daze:

Horn of Africa Crisis: By the Numbers. InfoGraphic by Rich Clabaugh/ Monitor staff

A lot of hard facts to deal with I know. And it may make it feel that there's very little we can actually do about it. But then, very little is way better than nothing at all.

As Zayna suggests, some of the things you could do:

- read about it - in the news, on blogs, anywhere you can find decent info

- pass it on - share this information with others online via twitter, facebook, tumblr or whatever happens to be your social networking weapon of choice

- talk about it - bring it up with friends, with colleagues, even strangers, if you're that way inclined. beats talking about the weather

- donate - find whichever charity you're happy with donating through. whether it's one-off or a regular thing - again remember, every little helps ("£0.50/$1.00 = 4 Full meals")

some charities with appeals:

- World Food Programme

- UNICEF

- Islamic Relief

- Medecins Sans Frontieres

And just finally, two things:

-an article about how the causes of this famine are not just the drought:

http://www.guardian.co.uk/commentisfree/2011/jul/21/somalia-famine-drought

- an awe-some heart-hitting poem by Amir Sulaiman - Somalia: nevermind:

random freewrite

2011-08-20T16:42:00.000+01:00

sat listening to nizlopi (half these songs are about you) and trying to bring myself to get through some personal admin. so this is a little bit of procrastination.

(in other news, i am in edinburgh, still in love with this country. the weather has been kind, and the natives also. the past few days have been scattered with beautiful running into friends, conversations with strangers, laughter, a brilliance of variety, and a gradual re-engagement with myself).

-this makes me hurt right here
she points to her stomach
-and here
she touches her chest
-you have left me so that i no longer know the right way
to breathe air
every time i inhale, bronchiole become broken glass
shards of air mock lungs no longer interested in using them anyway
and that part of me that you loved best but couldn’t stand
it does all it can to keep me crushed
god, this isn’t crushing
but it has left me immobile, pinned to the point
of no return
returning nonetheless every day to this -
after ruminating on every alternative -
that my mother was right:
you can only know who you love,
never who loves you

sat 20 aug 2011 16.33 dalkeith road

== down to the ground ==

2011-08-10T14:50:00.005+01:00

"it's the mystery of iniquity

it's the history of iniquity

it's the misery of iniquity

and i'm telling you oh, it all falls down"

they ask if he's shocked*

his 'no' brings an accusation, condemnation

slithering from her flailing, failing fork of a tongue

as though having seen the signs is akin to encouragement

an anchor way out of her depth in the face of honest argument

this has been coming for years, decades,

simmering on heat for generations

and those charged with watching

choose blinkers and blame

throw off responsibility, create more of the same

disaffection as standard

they turn two blind eyes

so while some say 'tinderbox' i say bonfire heaped high

seasoned with the finest black gold

and all parties, red, blue, new and old,

skitter about it with firecrackers and sparklers lit

chowing down on the finest fat of the land

double fistfuls of dirty cash in hand

as they spit paltry promises with a main order of lies

then feign surprise as those most firmly downtrodden arise dirtied

dispossessed and determined to take their self-proclaimed prize

surmise only mindless thuggery, blind greed

it's all congenital, it's just the way they breed

and no-one takes responsibility

for the first torch lit

first brick thrown

first clenched fist

as iniquity becomes the new equality, elite the new mainstream

whole populations brought up on a diet of low esteem

on 'you are what you own' and celebrity dreams

and stuck on repeat, on a loop, to the street:

you are nothing, you are worthless, don't bother to aspire

to think you deserve to attain, or achieve, or reach higher

so these ones go the only way they see to go

already taken so low, naturally inclined to down

they're taking homes, razing them down to the ground

taking their homes, razing them down to the ground

they're taking away your promise, because you gave them none

taking for themselves what they've decided they're owed

deciding themselves now they feel they’re all grown

and you groan that relationship isn't one of the issues

they're just thugs playing out their misspent youths

and to offer root cause is condoning – we refuse!

and we? street level, the you, and the me?

we just try to rock ourselves back to sleep

hope the morning brings less reason to weep as

siren song lullaby and rotor-blade beats keep time

with the keen and the thump intertwined

of our unsettled head and our now nervous heart

through the smoke and the chaos and tearing apart

through the shattering, as community divisions start

we dream of sleeping, dream of dreaming

of cohesion and of hope

* bbc 'interview' with darcus howe

a response to the riots

2011-08-09T04:37:00.000+01:00

this is the blog i would have liked to write - says all the things i was trying to, but coherently and eloquently.

Laurie Penny's blog

or just read it here:

"

Tuesday, 9 August 2011

Panic on the streets of London.

I’m huddled in the front room with some shell-shocked friends, watching my city burn. The BBC is interchanging footage of blazing cars and running street battles in Hackney, of police horses lining up in Lewisham, of roiling infernos that were once shops and houses in Croydon and in Peckham. Last night, Enfield, Walthamstow, Brixton and Wood Green were looted; there have been hundreds of arrests and dozens of serious injuries, and it will be a miracle if nobody dies tonight. This is the third consecutive night of rioting in London, and the disorder has now spread to Leeds, Liverpool, Bristol and Birmingham. Politicians and police officers who only hours ago were making stony-faced statements about criminality are now simply begging the young people of Britain’s inner cities to go home. Britain is a tinderbox, and on Friday, somebody lit a match. How the hell did this happen? And what are we going to do now?

In the scramble to comprehend the riots, every single commentator has opened with a ritual condemnation of the violence, as if it were in any doubt that arson, muggings and lootings are ugly occurrences. That much should be obvious to anyone who is watching Croydon burn down on the BBC right now. David Lammy, MP for Tottenham, called the disorder 'mindless, mindless'. Nick Clegg denounced it as 'needless, opportunistic theft and violence'. Speaking from his Tuscan holiday villa, Prime Minister David Cameron – who has finally decided to return home to take charge - declared simply that the social unrest searing through the poorest boroughs in the country was "utterly unacceptable." The violence on the streets is being dismissed as ‘pure criminality,’ as the work of a ‘violent minority’, as ‘opportunism.’ This is madly insufficient. It is no way to talk about viral civil unrest. Angry young people with nothing to do and little to lose are turning on their own communities, and they cannot be stopped, and they know it. Tonight, in one of the greatest cities in the world, society is ripping itself apart.

Violence is rarely mindless. The politics of a burning building, a smashed-in shop or a young man shot by police may be obscured even to those who lit the rags or fired the gun, but the politics are there. Unquestionably there is far, far more to these riots than the death of Mark Duggan, whose shooting sparked off the unrest on Saturday, when two police cars were set alight after a five-hour vigil at Tottenham police station. A peaceful protest over the death of a man at police hands, in a community where locals have been given every reason to mistrust the forces of law and order, is one sort of political statement. Raiding shops for technology and trainers that cost ten times as much as the benefits you’re no longer entitled to is another. A co-ordinated, viral wave of civil unrest across the poorest boroughs of Britain, with young people coming from across the capital and the country to battle the police, is another.

Months of conjecture will follow these riots. Already, the internet is teeming with racist vitriol and wild speculation. The truth is that very few people know why this is happening. They don’t know, because they were not watching these communities. Nobody has been watching Tottenham since the television cameras drifted away after the Broadwater Farm riots of 1985. Most of the people who will be writing, speaking and pontificating about the disorder this weekend have absolutely no idea what it is like to grow up in a community where there are no jobs, no space to live or move, and the police are on the streets stopping-and-searching you as you come home from school. The people who do will be waking up this week in the sure and certain knowledge that after decades of being ignored and marginalised and harassed by the police, after months of seeing any conceivable hope of a better future confiscated, they are finally on the news. In one NBC report, a young man in Tottenham was asked if rioting really achieved anything:

"Yes," said the young man. "You wouldn't be talking to me now if we didn't riot, would you?"

"Two months ago we marched to Scotland Yard, more than 2,000 of us, all blacks, and it was peaceful and calm and you know what? Not a word in the press. Last night a bit of rioting and looting and look around you."

Eavesdropping from among the onlookers, I looked around. A dozen TV crews and newspaper reporters interviewing the young men everywhere ‘’’

There are communities all over the country that nobody paid attention to unless there had recently been a riot or a murdered child. Well, they’re paying attention now.

Tonight in London, social order and the rule of law have broken down entirely. The city has been brought to a standstill; it is not safe to go out onto the streets, and where I am in Holloway, the violence is coming closer. As I write, the looting and arson attacks have spread to at least fifty different areas across the UK, including dozens in London, and communities are now turning on each other, with the Guardian reporting on rival gangs forming battle lines. It has become clear to the disenfranchised young people of Britain, who feel that they have no stake in society and nothing to lose, that they can do what they like tonight, and the police are utterly unable to stop them. That is what riots are all about.

Riots are about power, and they are about catharsis. They are not about poor parenting, or youth services being cut, or any of the other snap explanations that media pundits have been trotting out: structural inequalities, as a friend of mine remarked today, are not solved by a few pool tables. People riot because it makes them feel powerful, even if only for a night. People riot because they have spent their whole lives being told that they are good for nothing, and they realise that together they can do anything – literally, anything at all. People to whom respect has never been shown riot because they feel they have little reason to show respect themselves, and it spreads like fire on a warm summer night. And now people have lost their homes, and the country is tearing itself apart.

Noone expected this. The so-called leaders who have taken three solid days to return from their foreign holidays to a country in flames did not anticipate this. The people running Britain had absolutely no clue how desperate things had become. They thought that after thirty years of soaring inequality, in the middle of a recession, they could take away the last little things that gave people hope, the benefits, the jobs, the possibility of higher education, the support structures, and nothing would happen. They were wrong. And now my city is burning, and it will continue to burn until we stop the blanket condemnations and blind conjecture and try to understand just what has brought viral civil unrest to Britain. Let me give you a hint: it ain’t Twitter.

I’m stuck in the house, now, with rioting going on just down the road in Chalk Farm. Ealing and Clapham and Dalston are being trashed. Journalists are being mugged and beaten in the streets, and the riot cops are in retreat where they have appeared at all. Police stations are being set alight all over the country. This morning, as the smoke begins to clear, those of us who can sleep will wake up to a country in chaos. We will wake up to fear, and to racism, and to condemnation on left and right, none of which will stop this happening again, as the prospect of a second stock market clash teeters terrifyingly at the bottom of the news reports. Now is the time when we make our choices. Now is the time when we decide whether to descend into hate, or to put prejudice aside and work together. Now is the time when we decide what sort of country it is that we want to live in. Follow the #riotcleanup hashtag on Twitter. And take care of one another.

Posted by Penny Red at 9.8.11 "

say what you see

2011-08-08T22:53:00.001+01:00

Police in riot gear in Enfield, north London, on Sunday night. Photograph: Stefan Wermuth/Reuters

well, if you've any kind of social networking, internet access, or even (failing all that) the news, you'll have heard about the london riots by now.

i've nothing very new to add to the pot - a number of other people already blogged much better on the earlier happenings (collection of links below), and the media finally seemed to have caught up with the facts, just in time for widespread coverage of the looting that seems to have become the main focus.

first - in my opinion - simplistic overview: police shoot a man - police fail to make statement/answer family's questions - vigil becomes riot - riot becomes widespread property damage and looting

here are some earlier blogs which discuss this or at least provide some on the ground updates:

http://thewestlondoner.wordpress.com/

http://www.redpepper.org.uk/tottenham-this-is-what-you-get-fire/

http://soul14pages.wordpress.com/2011/08/07/tottenham-riots/

- - - - - -

my brother came home, telling me some kids had barricaded the street oustide our house (coldharbour lane). my sister and i have been in touch by phone to make sure she got home in peckham safe - she told me about police officers guarding the shops, whilst sending women and young children through back alleys to get to their homes, instead, perhaps, of watching out for the welfare of the residents themselves. my mum just managed to make it to old kent road mosque before walworth road came in for similar treatment as many other areas. i am not writing this from some ivory tower, or far removed from some of what is going on. just saying.

now, i am NOT commending the acts of looting, the destruction of people's homes or livelihoods. BUT i think, whether or not this is the intention behind them (and to be fair, i doubt very much most of the looters sat down and had a political game plan before they set out to greggs, footlocker and argos), it is sad but true that this is a crude but effective way of people getting their dissatisfaction, anger and frustration seen and heard.
yes, many people will dismiss it as opportunistic 'violence', and unfortunately a lot of it does seem at risk of turning into that (i.e. in the cases of people's homes being set alight). But i think it is dangerous to so readily ignore it, claiming that, given that it is not directly linked to the killing of mark duggan, then it is not relevant.

Theresa May apparently said earlier: 'this is not a relationship problem' - WHAT? Dear Ms May - do you really believe that? That this is not in any way linked to the Government's complete disconnect to the country they are 'governing'. You don't think perhaps this has any links to cuts in benefits, to 'unnecessary' services such as youth centres, refuges, esol, oh yeah, and nhs services?

perhaps nick clegg remembers mentioning last year that tory cuts would cause riots? no?

An article in the Guardian highlights the need to think about context. Nina Power writes:
"As Richard Wilkinson and Kate Pickett point out in The Spirit Level: Why Equality is Better for Everyone, phenomena usually described as "social problems" (crime, ill-health, imprisonment rates, mental illness) are far more common in unequal societies than ones with better economic distribution and less gap between the richest and the poorest. Decades of individualism, competition and state-encouraged selfishness – combined with a systematic crushing of unions and the ever-increasing criminalisation of dissent – have made Britain one of the most unequal countries in the developed world.
Images of burning buildings, cars aflame and stripped-out shops may provide spectacular fodder for a restless media, ever hungry for new stories and fresh groups to demonise, but we will understand nothing of these events if we ignore the history and the context in which they occur."

in a discussion with a friend of my brother's earlier, he gave another view point - we live in a capitalist society that actively promotes materialistic wealth. so why is there so much surprise and shock when looting is the reaction to what's seen as opportunity? just one more thing to throw into the mix. again, not a commendation, but a comment to be considered.

i think unfortunately the events of thursday/friday in which a young man was killed by the police, with so far no explanation having been made public, have sparked something the police could not have imagined. the danger now is twofold:
- that these events overshadow those surrounding mark duggan's death, allowing this to go unexplained or at least muddying the waters;
- and perhaps more dangerous, that this is dismissed, ignored by the government, as so many of the riots and protests of recent time have been dismissed, with a result that real violence does erupt, as people get tired of being ignored.

and one last thing:
i am so angry at the repeated statement of this image 'not being the image that London wants the world to see ahead of the Olympics'. right now, i do not care about the olympics. i think right now, the government perhaps needs toget their priorities straight if they want the olympics to go ahead at all.

Then there are times like this...

2011-08-06T17:38:00.001+01:00

...when things seem like they can't possibly be that bad after all.

peaceful moments

when just the cat for company is perfect, and online articles inspire (thanks zaufishan)

and uplift (thanks ray).

and friends appear unexpectedly, and help make things feel better. (thanks j).

"How foreign policy blunders helped create the famine in Somalia" - New Internationalist

2011-08-06T15:07:00.000+01:00

An excerpt from this article, which you can read in full on the New Internationalist website.

"How foreign policy blunders helped create the famine in Somalia

Posted by Mark Bradbury

Famine has returned to Somalia, and so has the US military. This is no natural disaster. Just as the US sent its first drones to Somalia, targeting leaders of the militant Islamist group al-Shabaab, tens of thousands of Somalis were crossing into Kenya, fleeing a catastrophic drought and conflict.

While US drones were able to find their targets in Somalia with pinpoint accuracy, humanitarian agencies have had less luck. They have experienced a catastrophic decline in access that has destroyed their ability to assist and protect civilians. The families crossing into Kenya are escaping from a severe drought but they are also fleeing a war.

This is a conflict between the internationally sponsored Transitional Federal Government (TFG) and a militant Islamic movement al-Shabaab, which is listed as a terrorist organization. The political use of aid by the warring parties has eroded the humanitarian space that agencies need to operate safely and securely."

Read the rest on the New Internationalist website

pictures of ramadan around the globe

2011-08-06T01:22:00.000+01:00

something a little more pleasing to make up for the last - all these and lots more at http://www.boston.com/bigpicture/2011/08/ramadan_begins.html

limbo

2011-08-05T23:33:00.000+01:00

i've not been able to fast since ramadan started - i'm praying tomorrow will be the day that i begin. it's left me feeling empty - floating in some kind of limbo - surrounded by ramadan but not feeling a part of it yet.

i talked to a friend at work about 'ritual impurity' today - explained it doesn't just relate to women's periods, but other things too - her 'ah' when she understood, and former knowledge was replaced with new, was a good sound to hear.

i'm not quite sure what's going on in my head at the moment. i seem to be in some stateless state, stuck nowhere in particular, with everything fuzzy and out of focus, too blurry to get a hold on.

i don't remember the last time i felt quite this flat for such a prolonged period of time. i had a conversation with a friend the other day, that started quite innocently, and ended with me in tears that mystified me. in a skype chat with another friend, i complained so much i got to the point where i irritated even myself.

my sense of humour seems to have taken a sabbatical, and taken balance and rationale with it. watching/reading the news does nothing to help matters.

there's not even any real ending to this except maybe to consider it a point of need to return - i have to sort something out. this is a bit ridiculous. apathy is far too irritating to stick with, and definitely does not make for readable blogs.

any suggestions welcome.

There really are no words - help any way you can

2011-08-04T23:47:00.002+01:00

Donate through any of the following, or any organisation you trust, if none of these (I haven't checked the authenticity or reliability of these organisations ).
Spread the word to others.

Islamic Relief

Save the children

Oxfam East Africa Appeal

Amnesty

Medecins Sans Frontieres

UN Refuge Agency

Human Crisis

Just to add, a report from Islamic Aid. Important, as many aid agencies are stating they are unable to get aid through.

"Working in this war-torn country – as Islamic Relief has done for the past five years – is certainly a complex business, fraught with danger. But we have not experienced any insurmountable problems so far in getting aid through to the areas we target – whether controlled by the government or by armed opposition groups."

Read it all here.

missing, inaction

2011-08-03T22:50:00.000+01:00

despite the flux of old blogs from my old facebook account

i realised that i haven't actually written anything in a long while. kind of been missing in action...

you'd be forgiven for thinking i've just been sitting around with my feet up

actually, i've just retreated a little from the virtual world

i have been doing a fair bit of stuff, though...

gardening

my niece and i started a whole nursery of seedlings on our balcony - that deserves blog of its own.

i've been taking a lot of photos and expanding my stash of camera bits

the other day i actually referred to myself as a 'freelance photographer' - more in jest than anything else, really, though, just mimicking what a friend had just described me as. not quite there yet.

i've discovered new places

made first visits

and had brilliant times learning from new friends

developing friendships is one of the things i've had a lot of time for other the past few months. so whether it's been in libraries

in parks

in restaurants

or even underground

i have spent more time doing things i love

with people i love

it hasn't all been sunshine and smiles, though

there've been times where i've just felt lost

and confused

where my whole life seems to just be one big mess

and everything's going too fast

other times i've just found myself so angry about different things happening - in the uk and further afield

but frustratingly, equally incompetent to make real change, so that, even as i rise up and take what little action i can, it all sometimes seems so pointless. it just feels like everything is just out of reach, like any power i have to change things has slowly faded

maybe the only way is to accept that things change - and sometimes i can affect them directly

and sometimes i can't

and all i have is the time i have

to keep believing that there will always be reason for hope

NHS privatisation? Say whaaa???

2011-07-20T02:28:00.000+01:00

Did you know the NHS is being put up for privatisation*?!?!? ME NEITHER!!

"Today, in the middle of the select committee hearing, it was discreetly announced that the NHS will be opened up for privatisation- the very thing that nobody voted for, the thing that almost noone wanted apart from private healthcare firms, the politicians whose election campaigns they financed, and -guess who?- the Murdoch press. Last week's Open Public Services white paper threatens to confiscate state-provided welfare, social housing, schools, nursing homes, libraries, hospitals, hospices. The hacking scandal has made it almost to the doors of Downing street, but in the meantime, on the quiet, the agenda of Murdoch's tame cabinet is being signed and delivered. It cannot be permitted. If we believe in a fairer, more honest world, we can't allow ourselves to be entirely distracted by the circus."

Please read this article by Laurie Penny (brilliant and politically sound journalist).

Share this information - post it on your own blogs, on your facebook, myspace, twitter. E-mail people, talk to people about it. Do whatever, but don't let the usual distractics get away with sneaking in yet another thing no-one actually voted for.

In other news, tonight I went to see the previews of both Tiernan Douieb and Josie Long's Edinburgh shows. Both openly and unapologetically politically based, both brilliant with it, and very funny. I feel inspired to get back on my strong beliefs** horse once again - i've definitely fallen off recently. Go and see these shows! Then check out all the stuff they reference. Then 'get up, get out and do something'. (it's late - macy gray/outkast quotes allowed in lieu of proper blogging).

*well, ok, not all of it, but read the article to find out more!
** - this is truly random, but as soon as i typed the words i thought of the song, then just found this, which reminded me of doing aiesec dances at aiesec conferences - good times

Aha! Full circle! 'Pulling Out' - Tuesday, 24 April 2007 at 22:42

2011-07-16T02:12:00.000+01:00

Really - I left facebook about 3 times in the past - obviously it never quite lasted. Fitting that this was my first note on there...
- - - -

Hi all,

As I write this, I've been online for approximately 3 hours out of the past 4 and a half that i've been home, skipping between facebook and myspace, while apparently doing other things. This is not good - I'll be the first to admit I'm a bit(!) of a junky, and have a slightly addictive nature - God, can you imagine if I drank or took drugs?!?!

So anyways, I've decided to eliminate the distractions - so I'm pulling out of facebook :o( Just as I was getting started too! But I figure I kind of need to reclaim my life a little. I'll try and be better about being in touch by e-mail and stuff (for those of you who don't have it, my e-mail is either wasidaniju@yahoo.com or knox1013@hotmail.com).

Stay well. wasi xxx

'I went to a marvellous party' - 25 October 2007 at 02:24

2011-07-16T02:09:00.000+01:00

Since this blog, Grace have split up (though ex-lead singer, JP Jones, made an album with Chrissie Hinde! Randomly, I bumped into him at a curry house the evening he was meeting her, but couldn't hang about as my friend had a train to catch), Cass Lowe may possibly have been signed, but I'm not sure - he seems to have disappeared, and The Hoosiers kind of exploded on to the pop world. Big shame about Grace - definitely worth checking out Detours.
(NB - the flickr link doesn't work anymore - I must've cleared the set because it was far too cluttered)
- - - -

Well, more of a gig really.

Blog from MySpace:

01:26 - Cass+Grace+The Hoosiers = Most awesome gig!
Current mood: Happily exhausted
Category: Music

Just before midnight, I got back from a gig at The Brook in Southampton. I went (along with my little sis and friends from work) to see The Hoosiers (myspace.com/thehoosiers), who were more than ably supported by the lovely Cass (myspace.com/casslowe) and the ultra-rocking Grace (myspace.com/thisisgracemusic).

The gig was absolutely awesome, from start to finish. When Cass first came on and picked up the guitar, I have to admit to wondering if he was one of the roadies (sorry dude - it was the understated entrance!), but as soon as he started to sing, I realised the show proper had started. Beautiful, amazing voice (and apparently tonight he had a sore throat!) and brilliant songs.

G-race were grrrrrreat (sorry - i'm tired - it brings out the infantile in me). They really were, though - totally rocked the stage with songs that sounded instantly familiar - not in a 'who does that remind me of' kind of way, but more a 'wow, this song's so cool, I already know half of it by the second chorus' type thing.

The Hoosiers. Aah, The Hoosiers. They rocked the house. Every song, people sang along like they'd had the album for ages - it only came out on Monday. It was almost as if certain people had listened to it non-stop, lyrics in one hand, hair-brush in the other...ahem. I was gutted when they walked off stage for the last time, and the lights came up. We hung about and got to have a chat with Irwin (lead singer) after, which rounded off the night pretty perfectly.

I took a load of pictures (me? pictures? surely not!), which I've loaded up on to Flickr - they're not edited yet, so include all the crap ones, and actually look about obsessive as I take the same picture 10 times...But anyways, they're here if you want to check them out:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/7873992@N02/sets/72157602682497933

Off to bed now, still buzzing, but in a very tired sort of way.

G'night all.

w xxx

'Belated Brighton blog - Mark Watson & North Laines' - Monday, 29 October 2007 at 01:32

2011-07-16T01:54:00.000+01:00

Back when I used to write about things in very...minute...detail... I possibly still do this...
- - - -

I thought I’d written this blog already. In fact I would’ve sworn to it. That is, until I opened my diary the other day, and realised all I’d done was write about it in there. So this is basically a copy of a diary entry from last Sunday, with a few bits added or taken out.

The day did not start out as planned. When I originally booked the tickets in August, I figured I’d be going with a friend of mine who lives in Brighton. I didn’t think I needed to check beforehand – who wouldn’t want to go see Mark Watson? Turned out, much as she’d have liked to, she couldn’t – she was in London for the weekend. Then my sister said she’d go. Then, when it turned out we’d have to stay the night, she couldn’t either. A friend over from Belfast. No. Friends from work. No. A friend who’s recently moved back down South after studying forever in Hull. Almost – so very nearly – but then he ended up going for a Hindu festival in Swansea instead. Solo it was, then.
Then a last minute possibility – friend from Kent whose boyfriend was invited to a party in Brighton that night. We planned to go to Brighton for the day, see the show, stay over, and part ways in the morning. Then I had to cancel – the day bit at least, as I found out I was being ‘introduced’ to someone, in the latest in a fairly mind-numbing, soul-destroying string of meetings arranged by well-meaning family friends from our mosque, who worry that I’m running out of time and need to be married off asap (advice from one ‘aunty’ the other week: “Make sure you dress nicely when you go out at the weekends; (indicating what I had on) you can dress like this when you get older”. Thanks). I didn’t anticipate a click. There was none. The time really would’ve been better spent wandering the Laines, eating ice-cream and just generally being beside the seaside. Ah well.

I got to Brighton at about 8pm – Just enough time to check in to my...lovely hotel, the Cosmopolitan. It wasn’t the greatest in terms of décor, but the staff were friendly, the breakfast turned out to be really nice, and it was close to the seafront and the town centre.

On my way to the Corn Exchange, I realised maybe it would have been a good idea to print off the Brighton map I’d been looking up during the week, rather than assuming for some reason I’d suddenly develop an eidetic memory and just remember where everything was. Luckily it wasn’t too bad to find – the theatre lights were a good clue; also, I decided everyone going anywhere would be going to the show, so I could just follow them, which I did, and somehow, it worked.

Walking up Church Street, I saw someone leaning out of a pub door who looked very familiar, even just from the back (thin body, big, curly hair). It turned out to be Simon Amstell (of course – ‘thin body, big, curly hair’ is actually the dictionary definition of Simon Amstell. Him, and Mika). He was calling up the road to a couple, who, on closer inspection, turned out to be Emily and Mark Watson. I managed a quick ‘hi’ to Mark, before he had to rush off (he said something about having to get ready for some show he was doing that night), and I headed into the theatre.

I sat in the auditorium, listening to the pre-show music, that all sounded vaguely Weezer-like, but not quite. As the hall filled up, I started people-watching, which is always a good way to pass random minutes. There were some people looking really unamused; but then I guess, given that the show hadn’t yet started, I’d have been a bit more worried if they’d been sat there, chuckling to themselves. I felt sorry for a couple who’d ensconced themselves in seats in the second row (I was in the third), only to be told their tickets were ‘B’, not ‘BB’, which basically meant they were in the tiered stalls in the back half of the hall, rather than right at the front in the flat ones. Thank Active-X I installed the seat-planner-software-thingy when I booked my tickets, so I knew exactly where I was sitting. I guess if I’d wanted to confuse them even further, I could’ve offered one of them my spare ticket – ooh, the painful choice that would have been: great view vs. partner… I spared them that pain, and just spread my stuff out a little more.

The music stopped, and suddenly some Welsh guy was yelling something about checking out the hall’s atmosphere. It turned out to be Mark, brandishing a bottle of something or other, and yelling cos he had no mic. Only problem – he was way back behind, rather than on stage – right in front of the tiered stalls, in fact. I bet that couple stopped feeling quite so gutted about having to move.

So the show started, with Mark chatting to us from the floor a while, before hiding behind a curtain to announce himself, and run up on to stage (it was very effective – who needs backstage when you can just pretend? Much more fun, I reckon!).

I tried to get a surreptitious pic of Mark just after he got on stage – I figured I’d snap him before he started moving about a lot. I thought I’d been very subtle, turning off the display screen of my camera, no flash etc. I kind of forgot about the bright red AF-assist beam that probably blinds the person you’re taking a picture of. Next thing I know, I’ve got Mark peering down at me, asking if I just took a picture.
“I haven’t even done anything yet. I’ll pose as if I’m about to do something really funny”,
which he obligingly did, but I was laughing too hard to hold the camera straight, so what should have been a golden opportunity to get a cool photo turned into the blurred mess you can find in my photos. (Hannah – how do you get such damn excellent photos?!).

After the show, I considered hanging about to get a non-blurry photo, but wasn’t quite sure exactly where to hang, and also was a little freaked about walking back by myself at that time of night – I’m fine walking through Brixton at midnight, but become a total wuss in places I don’t know.

Turns out I needn’t have worried – the streets were pretty much alive and buzzing, and I felt safe all the way back to the Cosmopolitan.

I got in, and ended up watching ’Things To Do in Denver When You’re Dead’ – hmmm, Steve Buscemi definitely got the coolest role, though Christopher Walken’s was probably a close second. A friend once told me that Christopher Walken dances in every single movie that he’s in – does anyone know if that’s true? Cos I’m thinking I don’t remember him dancing in ‘True Romance’ or ‘Pulp Fiction’. Anyways...

Following morning, I bussed it up to the station (not very CATE, seeing as it was about a 15 minute walk, but I had loads to carry, and was wearing my cool-but-impractical boots). Turns out I had an hour before my train, so I lugged my stuff and myself back out of the station, to see what I could see. A bit down the hill, I discovered North Laine, and quickly decided that Brighton was added to my ‘cool places I must visit again soon!’ list. The Laines are full of boutiquey type shops and funky cafés and stuff, nearly all with the coolest shop-fronts and/or contents (have a look at my photos from Brighton).

My weekend ended on a total high, complete opposite mood to Saturday a.m. (poor guy). My sister and I cycled down to The Tenth Hole (amazingly good café at the mini-golf thing in Southsea, quite near the sea-front). They do incredibly irresistible cakes, and give you massive chunks that could probably feed a family of five for a week – my sister and I actually each house families of five inside, so we managed ok.
On the way there and back, we played the intros game from ‘Never Mind The Buzzcocks’. Try this next time you’re cycling anywhere with someone – it’s unfailingly funny and hugely entertaining. A bit like Mark Watson.

'Gonna get myself Connected' - Wednesday, 07 November 2007 at 00:26

2011-07-16T01:41:00.000+01:00

2007 - dreaming and scheming of any way possible to leave Portsmouth, and the dream job came up. 3 & 1/2 years later, and I'm still at Connect. Despite my sometime grumbling, there must be something right at this place!
- - - -

Last Monday I applied for a job - Speech & Language Therapist Project Worker - with an organisation called Connect (amazing organisation that develops initiatives to support people living with aphasia - check 'em out here: http://www.ukconnect.org/). The deadline was that day - I e-mailed my application in at about 11p.m. What can I say - that morning, I didn;t even realise I was going to apply, and I got in from (where? my memory doesn't stretch back that far) somewhere relatively late that evening, so all in all, I'm pretty amazed that I managed to get anything coherent to them.

There must have been something that made sense to them - on Wednesday, I got an e-mail saying I had an interview on Monday! After being eye-gogglingly amazed for a little while (a freaky sight, trust me), I realised actually Monday wasn't so great - I had clients booked in - whereas Tuesday was comepletely empty. I replied, asking if there was any chance I could change days (I wasn't being totally cheeky - they were running interviews on the Monday and Tuesday). Thursday, I heard back from Connect with an agreement to rearrange for Tuesday. Get in!

Then I actually read the rest of the first e-mail, and part of me wished maybe they hadn't been so keen to interview me - I had to put together a ten-minute presentation (question: 'what is the role of voluntary sector organisations in extending support and opportunities currently available to people living with aphasia?' - cos I'm sure y'all were dying to know), which I'd be presenting to a panel (a panel? why?!) of 5 people. Added factor - some of the panel would be people living with aphasia - employees and volunteers of Connect - so I had to make sure my presentation was accessible. Oh my.

So I did what I do best in these situations. I kind of ignored the fact that I had only 5 days til the interview, and just put all thoughts of it to one side for a few days. I mean, I had 5 whole days - that's ages in Wasi-world! Anyways, I had other stuff to contend with - like the Monster Mash Quiz, and getting totally mashed at Scrabulous.

Then there was the weekend, and I had to do my parts of the Post-Reg year project (don't ask me about this - it results in a massive rant. I hadn't spoken to my best friend since before her birthday, and when she called on Sunday, instead of asking about how it was, I ranted about post-reg. I even actually said today in the interview 'Don't get me started on that project' when I happened to mention it as an example. It infuriates me beyond rationality - on a par with people that think happy-slapping is funny, or that it doesn't matter if Bangladesh disappears because of global warming because "i don't know anyone over there" AAAAAAAAAAAARGH!!!! - sorry - slightly carried away on a tide of rantiness).

So, Saturday I was supposed to be doing Post-Reg stuff. Saturday, I rearranged my room. By the evening, there was nothing left to move. I figured I'd have a half hour nap, and do some work.

Four & a half hours later, I woke up, a bit dazed, and wondering why it was s dark. I did have good intentions when I got on the computer...they were scuppered by the word-junky in me. Scrabulous it was.

Sunday...I actally did work. Lots actually. I like to think of my working method as being like those essential oils - concentrated and compact, but just as potent as if it were spread out over a much longer period of time. Of course, that might just be so much crap to excuse my terrible habits of procrastination.

Sunday evening, I finally started on the presentation. It actually didn't take too long, and the geek in me actually had fun (yes, I'm sad; so what's new?) putting together the powerpoint.

Monday - work - extreme lack of concentration - after work - post-reg meeting - work, but also discussion of names' meanings, writing Arabic, and hand-twins. Quick shopping trip to get a top for the interview (yes, the night before - what can I say? I don't do drugs, I've got to get my kicks somehow). Got in about half seven, and stayed up til about 1.30, reading about the voluntary sector.

Tuesday - woke up at half-six - oh.my.daze. I nearly fell back asleep - that would've been fun!

At the train station, discovered it's a good idea to check ticket options before travelling. teh guy tried to sell me a ticket for £34, when there was one available for £22, the existence of which he initially denied. Ach!

Train journey of 2 hours 20 minutes stretched out ahead of me, with a massive temptation to sleep to pass the time. Instead, I did a bit more background reading, listened to music, and looked out the window.

Then, the weirdest thing - I slipped into this amazingly chipper mood, and the knowledge that I had an interview really didn't seem to matter (and I HATE interviews - I lose any trace of eloquence and intelligence when I get into an interview room, and tend to force out words through a terrified rictus). I sat there, singing, and being all city-girl-enthralled by the passing countryside - the colours were amazing!

I did actually feel like I was slightly high on something (hmmm), and the feeling persisted throughout the presentation, the interview, and the tour of the building afterwards. It didn't hurt that, because I'd volunteered there before, I already knew one of the people interviewing me, and the panel were lovely.

So, amazingly, for me, it went really well. That's actually all this note was meant to say: had an interview, it went really well. But I wll insist on embellishing! Apparently I'll hear by Thursday...I am holding my breath.

'A Capella - from the 12 Days to Rushmore ' - 15 December 2007 at 04:02

2011-07-16T01:33:00.000+01:00

So, I went through a period where I was a little obsessed with a capella... Ach, who am I kidding - I totally still am! I mean - that's JUST THEIR VOICES!!! That said, not sure why I chose the Thriller one - this group's Spiderman (different lead singer) was heaps better. The 'cuban group' are vocal sampling - still amaze me with that guitar solo.
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(Even if no-one else, Zainab, I think you will appreciate this, especially the Thriller one - sometimes, it takes a Daniju to understand!)

(I tried posting this with videos embedded, but it didn't work, so I've had to just paste links instead)(16/7/11 - on blogger, video embedding should work!).

This all started because of the DJ on the Breakfast show this morning - he played a clip from this "Barbershop Quartet"'s verions of the 12 Days of Christmas. I thought it was pretty cool, so went over to youtube to check it out. Turned out to be an a capella group, Straight No Chaser. The clip:

These are the same guys singing 'This is how we do it', with bits of Boyz II Men in there too:

And finally, their version of Africa:

Then I found a load of others...

A bit of a fast version of The Killers' Mr Brightside:

This pretty cool version of Blur's Song 2:

One of my favourites - Seal's Kiss From A Rose by a group called the Acafellas:

A Cuban group doing Hotel California - man, that guitar solo!:

A 7-man Octet performing Bohemian Rhapsody (is it me, or are there guys in this video that look a bit like young versions of Wilem Defoe & Jimmy Carr (guy near the end of the song)?):

A particularly cool version of Thriller:

& last, but totally not least, the Proclaimers' 500 miles - by the Rushmore Mountain Presidents!:

'Bike Blog' - Sunday, 16 March 2008

2011-07-16T01:04:00.000+01:00

Because, who wouldn't want to cycle from Portsmouth to Southampton?! Back in the day, when I actually used to ride my bike...
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Well, it’s been over a month since Zainab and I hauled ourselves onto our bikes and set out for Southampton, and I’ve still not had the courtesy to sit and blog about it. Unfortunately, tho, five weeks is a long time in my head, and I’ve forgotten most of the trip, so not really much to blog about!

After a bit of a warm up:

we set off. Three times. First time we had to go back so Zainab could re-adjust her breaks – we thought maybe it might be a good idea for them to be working; second time, we’d got halfway down the road when we realised we’d left our amazing SUSTRANS flags, which did nothing for streamlining and speed (like we were ever gonna go fast anyway!), but looked pretty cool.

We ferried over to Gosport:

then hit the road to Lee-On-Solent, which, amazingly enough had cycle paths:

although you wouldn’t think it, from all the pedestrians who insisted on walking ultra s l o w right in front of our bikes, even with the ting-ting of my new bell.

It got better when we hit the coastal paths - beautiful views of the sea and no traffic:

But also quite a lot of mud!

Caked in mud and a little scratched-up from encounters with narrow hedged pathways, we made it back out onto the road at Warsash, and encountered the first of many hills. At first, we tried to be uber-enthusiastic, and cycle up them. After coming to a complete stop midway up the first one, I gave up and decided cycling uphill was a mug’s game. It took Zainab a couple more hills to realise pushing really was the way to go:

We got the Hamble ferry (tiny dinky pink thing that took about ten passengers a time)

and got back on the coastal path, and on with the pedalling. We passed Nettley Abbey, avoided knocking over all the little kids from the families who’d suddenly apparated, and got back on to the roads.

Much pedalling later, and this sweet, sweet vision greeted us:

Somehow, we’d made it! We had one more bridge to cross before we hit ..:namespace prefix = st1 ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" />Southampton proper though – literally. The Itchen Bridge has to be the scariest thing I have ever encountered on my bike, ever. It was like being on the slope of a roller-coaster all the way down – Zainab insisted we wouldn’t die, but I didn’t really believe her. It was quite a way to finish up the ride – freewheeling down what felt like at least a 45 degree gradient, with cars, trucks and buses zooming by, and survival depending on my brakes not giving out at the bottom.

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& that was it, really. We arrived in Southampton centre about 4½ hours after setting off from Southsea – we could have probably done it in about 3 hours, if I hadn’t stopped every five minutes to take pictures or check the map. We weren’t all that tired or achey, but were quite covered in mud, and I spent the rest of the day a little dizzy (I blame the Itchen Bridge). The worst part was probably cycling to the theatre where Mark was performing – it was dark, the road was too big & busy to cycle on, and the path was massively bumpy & cracked. We also managed to get lost in the campus. It was all worth it though – the show was, if possible, even funnier second time round, with Mark on top form, despite almost disappearing into the abyss (otherwise known as the orchestra pit) in front of the stage a few times…

Big huge massive thank yous to everyone that’s sponsored us so far, and magical thanks to Mark for bigging us up by blog & on stage. We’ve reached about half of our target, and the sponsor page’ll be open for a while yet, so if you’ve not managed to sponsor us just yet, please do – it’d be wicked to have been able to raise £500 for sustrans. Just click here: http://www.justgiving.com/wasiandzainabcycletosouthampton

Many thanks, and kudos for reading,

w xxx

"The day humanity starts eating the planet" - Friday, 03 October 2008

2011-07-16T00:55:00.000+01:00

(another from a few years back...)
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I read about this sometime last week, and just found this article on the nef (new economics foundation) website. Scarifying.

"Tuesday 23 September: The day humanity starts eating the planet

On September 23, humanity will have used up all the resources nature will provide this year, according to the latest data from Global Footprint Network and its member organisation nef (the new economics foundation) who devised the concept of Ecological Debt Day.

Just like any company, nature has a budget - it can only produce so many resources and absorb so much waste each year. The problem is, our demand on nature's services is exceeding what it can provide.

Since the 1980s, humanity has been in ecological overshoot, using resources faster than they can be regenerated and putting carbon into the air faster than it can be reabsorbed. Globally, we now demand the biological capacity of 1.4 planets. But of course, we only have one. The result is that our supply of natural resources - like trees and fish - continues to shrink, while our waste - primarily carbon dioxide - accumulates.

"It took governments in the UK and US just a week to drop decades of hardened economic practice to save the financial system from meltdown, why should it take any longer to act to save the planet?" says Andrew Simms, nef policy director,

"They say that big financial institutions are too big to fail, but there is something larger and much more important that is being allowed to collapse - a climate system conducive to human civilisation. There could be less than one hundred months to prevent catastrophic, runaway global warming. We need a programme from government now, that is at least as bold as action to save reckless financiers."

Each year, the Global Footprint Network calculates humanity's Ecological Footprint (its demand on cropland, pasture, forests and fisheries and space for infrastructure), and compares this with global biocapacity-the ability of these ecosystems to generate resources and absorb waste. Ecological Footprint accounting can be used to determine the exact date we, as a global community, begin living beyond the means of what the planet produces every year.

From now until the end of the year, we're dipping into our ecological reserves, borrowing from the future, said Dr. Mathis Wackernagel, Executive Director of Global Footprint Network. This can go on for a short time, but ultimately it leads to a build up of waste and the depletion of the very resources on which the human economy depends.

Ecological overshoot is at the root of many of the most pressing environmental problems we face today: climate change, declining biodiversity, shrinking forests, fisheries collapse, and many of the factors contributing to the current global food crisis.

Ecological Debt Day is creeping ever earlier as human consumption grows.Humanity's first Ecological Debt Day was December 31, 1986.

Ten years later, humanity was using 15 percent more resources in a year than the planet could supply, with the Day falling in November.

This year, more than two decades since we first went into Ecological Debt Day has moved up to September 23, and our rate of overshoot stands at 40 percent more than the planet can renewably supply. nef, the Global Footprint Network and its international partner network are focused on solving the problem of overshoot, working with businesses and government leaders bring ecological limits to the forefront of decision-making everywhere.

People can determine their own Ecological Footprint and learn how to reduce it at www.footprintnetwork.org. They can have an even greater impact by encouraging government and business leaders to build communities that help to end overshoot with smart infrastructure planning and best-practice green technology.
People wishing to take positive, regular monthly actions on climate change can also sign-up at www.onehundredmonths.org - which includes a countdown clock for to avoiding dangerous global warming."

'Green Screen - pass it on' - 10th October 2008

2011-07-16T00:42:00.000+01:00

Wow - can't believe this was three years ago, almost. Look at that poster (that's a beautiful beach on the outer hebrides) - and the website's still there too! I was so excited about it - it was going to be the best film festival anyone (in Portsmouth) had ever seen - it was going to change the world! I still believe I am. Maybe just not quite as much as I hoped.
- - - -
"It's happening, people. Next weekend in fact!

Please help me pass it on - open and share this note, or just copy the poster onto your facebook/email/website/forehead, and write something arresting like : LOOK AT THIS AND GO THERE next to it.

To get the picture to show on your facebook, when you post the note, go to the edit button, and click 'full' (thanks Lynda :0) )

Or you could paste the website address somewhere: www.freewebs.com/greenscreen08

or you could invite people to the event (see my events).

Whatever you do, please pass it on. Thanking you hugely"