WANNA STUDY, CAN'T

Wanna study, can't. Wanna write, can't. Wanna party, can't. Wanna freak out over something, can't. Lol... Lots of things I can't do at the moment... Hopefully, that will alter in some time (no point in stressing it, right?) :)

Whats the probability that a guy wearing a t-shirt that reads 'It's all fun and games till the cops show up' gets caught by the cops for driving without a license? Read: 1 in 200000. So what's the probability that I would know this guy? Nil. You'd think so. You'd be right? Nope.. You'd be wrong.. LOL!

What's the probability that in one hostel, two people boiling water in an electric kettle can trip a fuse that causes power to fluctuate and cause one certain person's mobile charger to give up the battle against the sudden infusion of juice into its system? Nil? Wrong. There's no way I can do this to yet ANOTHER phone. First one: Lost. Second: Stolen. Third: Didn't luck out either. Why do I always hear people say third time lucky, but it never falls true?

OK. I'm done with writing this crap. Maybe now I can finally get up to studying for a test for a course that I can't sit in for all its utter BORINGNESS! Wow.. I had no idea 'boringness' existed until the red line didn't appear. If you know what I'm talking about. Rii: I miss your zombiefied existence. Your absence has turned ME into one! What to do, yaar, what to do (to be read aloud in OUR accent) :)

ITS MUBARAK BARACK: AND THE THRONE FALLS TO THE BLACKS!!!!

As Barack Obama made history by getting elected the 44^th president of the United States, they yelled. They shouted. They cried. They laughed. They sobbed. And they sung. They clapped hands and hugged as Obama was proclaimed the winner.

I’m not talking about the African- Americans. Nope. I’m talking about the Africans. The Kenyans. Those chaps who take pride in the fact that Obama is a son of Kenya. That Barack Hussein Obama Sr. was the one person in thirty million who sired the first black president of the United States: the seat of top power. It seems to be somewhat of an irony that the first black president of the US isn’t someone whose family has suffered at the hands of the land or whose ancestors were once slaves but one whose whole life wasn’t governed by the concepts and dynamics of racism and whose roots are firmly entrenched in a small country on that vast continent that was once in the hands of the same white folks who applaud the coming of Obama to the highest seat in the land. Irony.

When Kenyan’s got a national holiday for the victory of Barack, the world laughed. You’ve got to love these people, people said. It implied that we are crazy. That our leaders are fools. That our pride is misplaced. After all, what will this one guy who is American to his toenails do for our country? What silly behaviour did our leaders exhibit by giving us a national holiday?

It wasn’t misplaced. And we aren’t fools. We do know and understand the fact that as President, Barack Obama will not treat us any different that he would the rest of the world. For him, for America, we will still be one economy that as yet, thrives on the dollar, and hence, is to be exploited. As usual. We know that. We aren’t fools.

But what we also get is that Barack Obama is 50% Kenyan. We also know that genes count for something. We know that without growing up in Kenya between his people, he exhibits characteristics that are only attributed to his father’s tribe. We know that he is half black, so he knows what we’ve been through. Racial memory counts for something. And we know that for one moment, for one day, we can have hope that we, as Kenyans, can enjoy the concept of freedom. We can enjoy the concept that the democracy that we have lost in our own world is still prevalent in other worlds, and that we can one day hope to assume that democracy. It’s not about Barack Obama. Or maybe it is. Partly. But mostly, it’s about us. And we have to let the world know this. We aren’t fools. We’re a people who believe in the audacity of hope. We believe. And therefore, we celebrate.

MAYA ANGELOU

I've been reading a lot about Maya Angelou after a new friend from my hostel gave me Maya Angelou's six-pack biography. I loved it. I'm still not finished, but I have read the first two books of the series. The first one, I know why the caged bird sings, really captured my heart. I know its considered inspirational, and truth to tell, it WAS inspirational. I Googled up Maya Angelou, and discovered that she's a much more important person in the history of Black America than I previously thought. She's written quite a bit of poetry, but this one is one of my favorites. I hope you'll enjoy it too.

PHENOMENAL WOMAN

Pretty women wonder where my secret lies.
I'm not cute or built to suit a fashion model's size
But when I start to tell them,
They think I'm telling lies.
I say,
It's in the reach of my arms
The span of my hips,
The stride of my step,
The curl of my lips.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.

I walk into a room
Just as cool as you please,
And to a man,
The fellows stand or
Fall down on their knees.
Then they swarm around me,
A hive of honey bees.
I say,
It's the fire in my eyes,
And the flash of my teeth,
The swing in my waist,
And the joy in my feet.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.

Men themselves have wondered
What they see in me.
They try so much
But they can't touch
My inner mystery.
When I try to show them
They say they still can't see.
I say,
It's in the arch of my back,
The sun of my smile,
The ride of my breasts,
The grace of my style.
I'm a woman

Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.

Now you understand
Just why my head's not bowed.
I don't shout or jump about
Or have to talk real loud.
When you see me passing
It ought to make you proud.
I say,
It's in the click of my heels,
The bend of my hair,
the palm of my hand,
The need of my care,
'Cause I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.

Maya Angelou.

Beautiful, isn't it.