Sunday, May 31, 2009

Summer Is Here!

Hi!

Chidi here!

I just want to let you know that I am having fun with my mom and dad.

Mom will be back soon. I helped her with this video. I hope you like it.

Bye,
C.

Tuesday, May 19, 2009

Vipi Sasa?

I have not had a moment to come out to my front porch to chat.

My time-management skills have definitely been put to the test these past two weeks...

- year-end school activities and season-end soccer activities for our 10 year old.

- assisting with collecting book donations for the Books For Africa Atlanta warehouse grand opening on Thursday this week.

- preparing and sending correspondence to Kenya regarding AKPA's upcoming Kenyan Diaspora Conference and Investment Forum in August this year.

- preparing for and teaching a beginner's Kiswahili class in Atlanta this past weekend.

- assisting a friend with some PR work related to Delta's inaugural direct flight from Atlanta to Nairobi, on June 2, this year.

...all the while being a mama na mke nyumbani [mother and wife at home] and holding down my 9-5.

So, late this afternoon, when I received this video clip of a young Declan Galbraith, I thought I'd stop by, share and say Vipi Sasa [what's up]?



A beautiful voice and wonderful message.

Baadaye, na have a good week!

Mama Shujaa.

Friday, May 8, 2009

Weekend Riding


I can see Diana on the 800 pound vibrator she talks about, her weekend ride.

In full regalia, no less; two-toned black and red braided leather chaps, black boots, black vest, black gloves, and a partial face helmet.

It won't surprise me or fellow vanpoolers if underneath it all, she dons a thong (Size L) with my vibrator has two wheels emblazoned on it.

Routinely now with the good weather, she’ll announce to the van,

“I’m ridin’ this weekend.”

“Ridin’ dirty?” Martha will ask, on cue. She, of course would own one with a trailer large enough to fit her bag(s).

“Come, what may,” Diana will say, “I’m getting on that beast!”

To hear her describe the anticipated rides you’d think she was ringing in the New Year every weekend…with a bang! She certainly comes back on Monday looking brand new.

I listen keenly to her prep talk simply because I’m interested in folks and their ways and means to find thrills, and freedom. She’s certainly not an oddity in Atlanta, where bikers in unison regularly take the beasts between their legs on weekend parades.

Is there something about pointing and driving the machine on the open road that conjures up Steve Miller and

Abra-abra-cadabra
I want to reach out and grab ya
Abra-abra-cadabra
Abracadabra.

You know, when you've got your hand on the throttle, and your heading straight up the road; no lopsided nonsense; just gently guiding, balancing; dipping, banking, left and right...What is it about the beast?

Hebu, tell me...

Monday, May 4, 2009

Worthy Betrayal?

Photo credit

It was tantalizing, my weekend.

Friday evening, we pull into the parking spot directly opposite his car.

“He’s already here, fellow vanpoolers.” I keep this observation to myself because there is no logical reason to boast.

Instead I blow him a kiss through the windshield. Martha and Monica (names changed to protect the horny) giggle at imagined pleasures in the offing.

Brown skin. Red and white striped shirt. Brown polka dot tie. I know those generous lips. And they are moving. His earpiece is on. Another conference call is my guess.

The three of us 'last stop' ladies disembark the van. He steps out to assist with my bags.

Handsome. Bow-legged. Clean shaven. Sweet lipped.

We watch as he carefully places my new running shoes in the trunk. Monica, in that ill-fitting dress she likes to wear on Fridays, looks like she could give him more than the current eyeful. But she has to settle for her husband, who is late. Martha steals a solid glance as she sashays herself and the work bag that would fail the size limitation gauge at any airport, to her car. I pay special attention to his pants; a charcoal gray Dolce Gabbana basic that make his gluteus maximus spell f.i.n.e.l.y. c.u.t.

I slide into the passenger seat. It feels like a cock pit in the high performance vehicle. The close confines and the steady hum of the engine provide a heady background to his smooth, deep baritone contributions on the conf. call.

My deck is giving out; the cards are stacked against me, already. How am I going to survive the next 48 hours? My well-intentioned pledge to support my Kenyan sisters in their sex boycott for political reform, now seems more than I can handle. Just the thought of not acquiescing to that which gives me pleasure for two days, let alone their seven, makes me want to give in, right there and then.

“How was your day?” he turns his attention to me, squirming in my seat.

We have made three children together and I must admit, it was and continues to be, a pleasure.

"Just fine and yours?" I manage, knowing right there and then, I will not make it. Hats off to the Kenyan women who have committed seven days of abstention for such a noble cause. I just wonder how many like me will betray the sisterhood’s cause? But what the heck, he is not a Kenyan, we are not IN Kenya and he is not a politician. Call me selfish. I'll be satisfied.

Mama Shujaa.