as i decompress from the amazing trip to gidi, i can’t help but reflect on Patricia, the woman I met while working out in the estate park 1 morning, who so hates herself & her body that she wired her jaw shut to prevent her 1, from getting the adequate nutrition her body needs to be healthy and 2, in a misguided attempt to loose weight, not realising her body will go into survivor mode and store more fat 3, has impaired her speach that you can only hear if you’re standing right next to her 4, her self hate reaches the crown of her head. she told me if a i referred her to natural hair salon (weave and chemical straightener free) she would run for dear life…
then there was galaxy who seemed to think that a friend and i were his personal peeping-tom-tube for the night, and that he could press play and be instantly gratified.
then there was the incident with Arik air, which has restored my belief in the depths that some folks sink to, to practice 419, and with such impunity.
then there was the beauty of gathering with sisters on home soil to just basque in all that we are, hope to be, and slide under or tap dance all over the radar as.
then there was the sausage roll at araba’s bake shop
then there was the family time, which so replenished me
then there was the dancing till my thighs, waist and hips hurt. almost put the dancers out of business for the night
then there’s the fact that gidi humidity works wonders for my skin and hair, but breaks my nails.
then there was the chance to re-connect with NYC loves.
then there was bumping into Asa at the airport and having a really nice bondin moment, like u know that feeling when you really meet someone, like all of them, and it mostly happens in the pauses between breaths and words
then drinks with MI, although i have to say Dj l’gini was more in my scope
then there was networking with folks within and without my current field
then there was the individual who became a leech, give and inch and they want to take a mile
eventually i’ll be able to figure out what all these moments together represent for me. but for the moment i’ll say life in Gidi never quite feels real. it imitates form impression of an alternate existence that i’m not sure i’m altogether comfortable with. between the scent of suya and boli on the air, to the copious amounts of money that hop through clenched fists on a millisecond basis, to the atmosphere bottlenecked by (missed) opportunities, lagos to me is quite simply exquisite and precarious living in elegant chaos. sometimes it pulls you in and spits you out in the same breath.
its quite the mindphuck…and i can’t wait for the next dose, but for now i’m grateful for the familiar slowed lull that is teranga…