Oh my, its finally happened. The time has come to bid the A-Z Challenge goodbye. I can't believe this is the last post for it. There were times when it felt like it would never end. Congratulations to myself and fellow bloggers for sticking with it to the end. It is no small feat. Raises your glasses everybody.
My Z post is very short but full of good memories. It's dedicated to South African movies that I watched in my early and late teens. I had such a wonderful time watching these and now my children enjoy them too. I love Leon Schuster, he does such a great job at putting his brand of comedy on film. My son asked me to get these again when he saw these clips, they are great family fun, perfect for winter days in the house.
But before you watch the clips I'd like to draw your attention to the last 3 clips which is about Shaka Zulu. You can see the beauty of Zulu land in this video. I'm sure the location here is the valley of a thousand heels. Kind Shaka was the most influential leader of the Zulu people and was unfortunately killed by his own brothers when he showed signs of dementia, the result of not coping with the death of his mother Nandi I think.
I'm not happy about the quality of this post but I had to make do with a desktop that takes 5 min to open a page. My laptop decided to go on holiday during the night. It won't switch on. Apologies. :( - fact remains, I am not missing a post a day before the end of the challenge, lappie or no lappie
I couldn’t come up with an interesting Y inspired letter so I decided to continue with my Africa theme. This time talking about Yuruba music a bit. The Yoruba people by the way are one of over 250 ethnic groups living in Nigeria. I just took the world population figures off the net and divided it by the Nigerian figures and came up with 43. For every 43 people in the world, one of then is Nigerian (did you know this?)…well not as bad as the Chinese for whom there is 1 Chinese person for every 6 but worse than the South Africans are 1:137. . This is staggering. No wonder they’re everywhere. My husband who is a Nigerian (Igbo) knows at least one person in every continent. He usually says to me, if you go to the remotest parts of the earth you are bound to bump into someone who will say to you: “How far na” (Nigerian Pigeon English for “hi, how are you”)
Before I met my husband I used to be one of those people who carried prejudices about the rest of West Africa (I confess), and I supposed that’s because from the few that I got to know about I thought this is surely the pits that there can be of humanity. One of the questions I and those around me frequently asked and some probably still asking is: What good can come out of Nigeria.” I think its no secret that this nation has a notorious reputation because of a few rotten apples. Now I can tell you (well well) what good can come out of Nigeria: Nigeria blessed me with the most wonderful man in the world. I won’t dwell too much on his attributes, although I’m sorely tempted to. I would marry him 10 times over. The other thing is music, I was introduced to Nigerian music by my Igbo (tribe) husband and I really love the Yuruba and Igbo variants.
And since this is a Y post I’ll focus on the Yoruba music and its influence around the globe. Wiki tells me that this music genre is best known for an extremely advanceddrummingtradition, especially using the dundun hourglasstension drums. Yorubafolk musicbecame perhaps the most prominent kind ofWest African musicinAfro-Latin and Caribbean musicalstyles.Yorùbá musicleft an especially important influence on the music used inLukumi[1]practice and themusic of CubaEnsembles using thedundunplay a type of music that is also calleddundun. These ensembles consist of various sizes of tension drums along with special band drums (ogido). The leader of a dundun ensemble is theoniyaluwho uses the drum to "talk" by imitating thetonalityofYoruba. Much of Yoruba music is spiritual in nature, and this form is often devoted toOrisas.
Yoruba music traditionally centred around folklore and spiritual/deity worship, utilising basic and natural instruments such as clapping of the hands. Playing music for a living was not something the Yoruba's did and singers were referred to in a derogatory term ofAlagbe, it is this derogation of musicians that made it not appeal to modern Yoruba at the time. Although, it is true that music genres like thehighlifeplayed by musicians likeRex Lawson,Segun Bucknor,Bobby Benson, etc.,Fela Kuti'sAfrobeat[3]andKing Sunny Ade'sjuju[4]are all Yoruba adaptations of foreign music. These musical genres have their roots in large metropolitan cities likeLagos,Ibadan, andPort Harcourtwhere people and culture mix influenced by their rich culture.
I thought it appropriate today to give a brief narrative of my people because from time to time I refer to them as the X-factor.....(the secret ingredient to the beauty of this land). I am exceeding proud of my Xhosa heritage except for the stupidity of those who followed the prophecy of a silly 16 year old girl called: Nongqawuse. I also think the Xhosa language is one of the most beautiful sounds one will ever come across.
Zolani Mkhiva is my favourite "mbongi" (Xhosa Praise Singer) the prestigious families
would have these to announce their arrival/presence or sing out their lineage at notable gatherings
(something like you have at the beginning of games on the movie 13th Knight).
The people of the Xhosa Tribe of South Africa have a very rich cultural heritage and have played an important part in the development of South Africa, especially when the most famous member of the Xhosa, Nelson Mandela, became South Africa's first president elected in a democratic election in 1994 followed by President (Thabo Bheki _ also came from this tribe).
Origins summarised During the seventeenth century, a gradual migration movement took place which led thousands of people from southern Zaire in various directions to cover most of Africa south of the Sahara. One of the tribes who took part in this migration was the Xhosa, descendant from a clan of the Nguni. Today the Xhosa is the most southern group of the migrations from Central Africa into the southern Africa areas. My people are pastoralist and cattle in particular is very important to them. Cows were introduced to the Wild Coast by the Xhosa during their migration to South Africa between 600 and 700 AD. These animals have played an important social and economic role in the development of their society and are used as a bride's dowry. The number of cattle held by a village or individual determines much of their importance to the rest of the world.
Folklore Xhosa tradition is rich in creative verbal expression. Intsomi (folktales), proverbs, and isibongo (praise poems) are told in dramatic and creative ways. Folktales relate the adventures of both animal protagonists and human characters. Praise poems traditionally relate the heroic adventures of ancestors or political leaders.
My fondest memories of my time growing up in the villages of Qebe, Engcobo which is in the Western Eastern Cape (sorry teens were in the west) are the "intsomi" (folktales) which were told in the night. And it is so odd that despite the fact that none of us had ever seen or heard of white people, the mystycal beings we believed existed were very similar if not the same to those white people grow up hearing of or being told about. We had the "tokoloshe's" whom only children can see to this day (goblins), the "mamlambo's" who live in the rivers (mermaids), "Impundulu" the huge lightning bird and so much more, I forget we had umkhovu thwhich are the zombies created from living beings by witches to be slaves. I remember as a child how we looked forward to gathering around the evening fire as we either roasted freshly harvested maize or rabit or some other poor creature caught by one of my older cousins. I could never bring myself to taste the field mice though which the elders made any child who pee'd in bed past their acceptable time, catch and eat and there were plenty of them.
I think this is why I still love the fantasy genre so much, make believe was deeply ingrained in me those nights.
Is an orgasmic pair of Christian Louboutin pumps and 30 other things by the time she's 30....fifish. I'm late bloomer........
30 Things Every Woman Should Have and Should Know by the Time She's 30
This 1997 Glamour article has become a popular web chain letter, usually titled “Maya Angelou’s Best Poem Ever.” Glamour contributor Pamela Redmond Satran is flattered, but she wrote the list, updating it in 2005.
In May of 1997, I wrote this list. I had passed my thirtieth birthday and wanted to tell younger women about the things I really wished I’d had and known by that important milestone. I guess people agreed with what I had to say, because a few years later the list showed up in my e-mail inbox; a friend had forwarded it to me for my reading pleasure, completely unaware that I was the author. After that, every month or two someone would send it to me and I’d immediately hit “reply all” and type, “Hey, that was me! I wrote that for Glamour.” (After a while, I don’t think anyone believed me.) The list became a phenomenon; posted on hundreds of websites, it was attributed to everyone from Jesse Jackson to Maya Angelou to Hillary Clinton. Someone even published it as an anonymously written book. As I read over these lines now, so many of them still seem worth having and knowing—whether you’re 30 or 22 or 75. Being a little older and a little wiser, I’ve plugged in a few new “shoulds.” By all means, add some of your own.
By 30, you should have:
One old boyfriend you can imagine going back to and one who reminds you of how far you’ve come.
A decent piece of furniture not previously owned by anyone else in your family.
Something perfect to wear if the employer or man of your dreams wants to see you in an hour.
A purse, a suitcase and an umbrella you’re not ashamed to be seen carrying.
A youth you’re content to move beyond.
A past juicy enough that you’re looking forward to retelling it in your old age.
The realization that you are actually going to have an old age—and some money set aside to help fund it.
An e-mail address, a voice mailbox and a bank account—all of which nobody has access to but you.
A résumé that is not even the slightest bit padded.
One friend who always makes you laugh and one who lets you cry.
A set of screwdrivers, a cordless drill and a black lace bra.
Something ridiculously expensive that you bought for yourself, just because you deserve it.
The belief that you deserve it.
A skin-care regimen, an exercise routine and a plan for dealing with those few other facets of life that don’t get better after 30.
A solid start on a satisfying career, a satisfying relationship and all those other facets of life that do get better.
By 30, you should know:
How to fall in love without losing yourself.
How you feel about having kids.
How to quit a job, break up with a man and confront a friend without ruining the friendship.
When to try harder and when to walk away.
How to kiss in a way that communicates perfectly what you would and wouldn’t like to happen next.
The names of: the secretary of state, your great-grandmother and the best tailor in town.
How to live alone, even if you don’t like to.
How to take control of your own birthday.
That you can’t change the length of your calves, the width of your hips or the nature of your parents.
That your childhood may not have been perfect, but it’s over.
What you would and wouldn’t do for money or love.
That nobody gets away with smoking, drinking, doing drugs or not flossing for very long.
Who you can trust, who you can’t and why you shouldn’t take it personally.
Not to apologize for something that isn’t your fault.
Besides the pleasure I get from putting my thoughts down, the knowledge that there are people who enjoy what I write keeps me blogging. And getting the Versatile Blogger Award from the divalicious Kortney and the hot & fabulous Jo Storm is one of the best things ever. I visit their blogs frequently and I'm always entertained or leave with a thought provoking message. I highly recommend a visit.
According to the condition of acceptance of the Award I have to do two more things, the first being to thank the people who nominated me:
Share 7 facts about myself.
I'm not much of a romantic, my outlook is a little too dark.
I love comfort so I tend to work like a slave driving slaves in my business, this way I can afford comfort with a clean conciouns you see.
I had to choose between money and my health this year when I had a minor heart problem so I slowed down business and am now entertaining thoughts of being a struggling writer.
I fantasize about being a pole/lap dancer so I'm settling for being a belly dancer.
I really want to learn to draw but am terrified because I even fail at drawing stick men.
My friends think I'm a bit of a snob, so do I.
The eternal struggle: Do I use my extra cash on books, shoes or a painting. The books tend to win 6:10.
I also have to nominate blogs for this Award so here goes:
Some say You don't exist, that's very hard to believe when I feel
You like this. Your Name, sweeter than nectar on my lips, Your
love constantly aflame in my heart.
You have left me Unfettered, Unsoiled....you have felt me United.
You said choose life that you may live and so I chose You.
I have life now, life abundant. Life impassioned with joy everlasting.
I never understood before when they read to me that life is in the blood, but now I know.
This Blood, gave me my tommorows to look forward to, my yesterday's to reminisce upon and eternity to learn You mysteries.
I am who I am because of who You are. My imperfections made perfectly perfect in
You. I will venerate you now so rocks and dry bones never rise to take my place.
So when my corporeal begets dust, my soul will continue to ask: who can say a thing and
it comes to pass when You have not spoken.......and my heart will continue to sing of no other name
Your song that brought me into being remains with me still as it reverberates through time.
Life as you gave me is my one time chance to be god over my domain just as you intended on
that day, in that beginning.
This I understand, for this I am grateful.
Psalm 139For the Chief Musician. A Psalm of David.13 For You formed my inward parts; You covered me in my mother’s womb. 14 I will praise You, for I am fearfully andwonderfully made;[b] Marvelous are Your works, And that my soul knows very well. 15 My frame was not hidden from You, When I was made in secret, And skillfully wrought in the lowest parts of the earth. 16 Your eyes saw my substance, being yet unformed. And in Your book they all were written, The days fashioned for me, When as yet there were none of them.
When I'm not trying to become a writer, I consult as a skills development specialist. And so I'd like to introducemy world of workto the world. I run a skills development company called Ewurum Consulting (EC) whose focus is the skills development of corporate South Africa. I hope that my blog friends will help publicize my venture and by so doing help sustain the Great Agony encumbered upon me by my artistic demands.....hahaha. For more please visit My Training Co on this link or the page tab.
I love finding delicious places and yesterday I got one more. I don’t know if this has anything to do with getting older but I’m acquiring all sorts of peculiar habits. Over the last year or two I have developed a fondness for tea. I love going out for tea and particularly enjoy herbal teas with my top favourite brand being Mighty Leaf. Hu hu hu, Chamomile Citrus...Yummy
I often wondered why this ritual resonates with me so much until I got an epiphany during one of those rare moments of self-reflection. It takes me back to my safest time during childhood. When my gran who raised me for the first decade of my life was alive. I was assigned the duty of making her morning and evening tea. My gran was such a vibrant figure, full of life, as strong as any goddess you could come across, fabulous material for a Ms Independent if the times had allowed and yet ......secretly and severely abused by the fathers of her children, first my grandfather who later abandoned her with three kids and then my step granddad who took her as a second wife. She was gone to soon, succumbing to cervical cancer, till this day I believe it was the silence that killed her, that alone is cancerous. After her death life went to the dogs until I claimed it back with my coming of age.
How did I come to be writing about tea today? Well yesterday on my way home I passed a shop that’s a couple of blocks from my house. Quite a nondescript looking place I think but in their branding they have the words Designer Cakes and Coffee Shop. So I was curious. I didn’t dwell on the coffee bit but I had pictures of cake, tea and a moment of solitude before the madness of my house when I went in. I’m so glad I stopped because I had the most divine vanilla tea there is with a chicken wrap for lunch. I never got to the cakes because that tea is so decadent, even without sugar it felt like I’d already had desert. Even better is that it is über affordable. Everything on the menu is well under R50 (roughly $7.50). My bill plus a box of the most decadent cookies you have ever laid you palate on came to a mere R149 ($22).
This is teashop that I will definitely visit again and again.
If you happen to be in Johannesburg take a moment to come Annica's in Randburg. Directions HERE. If you a lover of fabuliciousness then Annica's is well worth your while.
Let me first share my consternation.Yesterday came and went and no one could give me editing advise or tell me of a tool to get a hold off. I can't get over that. If you can in anyway respond to my cry for help please visit my post: HERE. It will help me provide better quality for my readers, in both blogging and writing.
Song of Solomon
Milkman Dead was born shortly after a neighborhood eccentric hurled himself off a rooftop in a vain attempt at flight. For the rest of his life he, too, will be trying to fly. With this brilliantly imagined novel, Toni Morrison transfigures the coming-of-age story as audaciously as Saul Bellow or Gabriel Garci a Ma rquez. As she follows Milkman from his rustbelt city to the place of his family's origins, Morrison introduces an entire cast of strivers and seeresses, liars and assassins, the inhabitants of a fully realized black world........Kalahari.net
I really wanted to review this specific book for S but alas I could not finish it on time. However, of its 337 pages I am now on page 237, exactly a 100 pages to go. So having read two thrids of it I think I can give half a review, I hope you don't mind. Maybe giving half the feedback now and the rest later is not a bad thing because this is a very complex book for me. If you asked me to unpack complex for Song of Solomon, I wouldn't be able to. It's no singular characteristic that makes it challenging and at the same time wonderful, beautiful and special . It's not the writing style, which by the way is complex, or the story line which is also complex, or the characters, who are complex, or the stories behind each one, which are very complex. 'Tis all off these coming together to form a very simple but thoroughly engaging narrative. I find myself frequently forgetting that this is a novel. It feels like I'm reading someone's life story, it's incredibly unpretentious. It doesn't try to woo you into reading it, the first few pages I had to read 4 times to understand what was happening and I almost threw the book the side to be honest, but boy am I glad to have my stubborn streak. I refuse to be defeated by something that doesn't "talk"....even if it does. I also suspect my struggle could be a result English being my fifth language, ergo, a borrowed language. {excuses, excuses(= } This book is dark, not horror story/serial killer dark (even though there is a dose of that) or paranormal dark (even with the voodoo in the book) but a more frighteningly insidious dark . The type that if allowed fills the heart of the average man or woman. The kind that eats away at souls until the person is left only as a shadow of themselves. There are copious amounts of greed, selfish intentions, hate upon hate, wild chaotic minds (could be madness), deed deep hurts and immeasurable cruelty and hopelessness. In all that however, there are also reflections of the purest of love and evidence that man is always meant to be master of his own destiny.. The time period I suppose is also ripe a book filled with family skeletons and individual's dark attics _ its set from 1918 onwards. Hardcover
Well I have to watch post length, this is theA-Z Blogfest after all. But I can assure you of this,Song of Solomon is a rich read and I am enjoying every moment. I will continue with the review after completion of the Fest. It deserves it.
I was at Myne's blog and stole again. I can never resist a good thing. I think this artist is has some exciting stuff and if you're in Naija this could make for an accomplished Saturday. The artists will be exhibiting “QUIET SPACES” SATURDAY, 14TH MAY, 2011 until 27th MAY, 2011 NIKE’S GALLERY, LEKKI, LAGOS To see more of his work please visit his website HERE:
By Romi Isichei
I love faces and torsos, that why I chose these pictures.
I'm trying my best here to link a previous post title of mine that never saw publishing because I got something more attractive to post at the time. It was called: E is for Error Upon Erroneous Error. But now it's called something bland like Review. In that previous title alone I don't know how many grammar laws I violated. I've probably slaughted the English language so many times it resembles something like the Butcher's shenanigans in the Five Point District.
What really irks me is when I read through my posts after publishing only to find grammar and spelling errors with each visit, and I would have spent a considerable amount of time "editing and reviewing" mind you. Sometimes if time allows I leave a draft for a couple of hours or a day and come back to it and re-edit. But once published. I can bet my last born, that I will find at least 3 incorrectly spelt words (or you where there's supposed to be your), etc. As you might guess, I am more than a little vexed by this seemingly chronic lack of attention to obvious details.
I read somewhere that when you edit, it's recommended that you read the text out loud and I found that this does help to some extend. However, if I know what's coming, it seems as if I read from memory or something and therefore overlook the errors. So I need additional weapons to slay this illiteracy dragon.
How do I edit and review in a way that will almost guarantee fault free posts in the little time we have to do this?
While scavenging for a Q subject (hence the heading, I really couldn't relate to this letter) I came across a word I was not familiar with, Quittage. According to our most trusted resource wikipedia (do I hear some researcher cringing?) quittage is a fictional sport in the Harry Potterbook series. It is described as an extremely rough, but very popular, semi-contact sport, played by wizards and witches around the world. Now how many of you knew that this is what this magical activity is called?
This is probably my shortest post ever, but that's all on account of the laundry seemingly being intent on raining on my parade.....see you all tonight on the blog hop. It's 08:10am here
One of my love affairs is with Poetry. I looked up to see what the definition of poetry is and realised, there really is none to be found. Like music poetry is what it is to the reader. For example I love E.B Browning's poem "How do I love thee, let me count the ways" and not because I find it romantic like "lets sit under the sycamore tree my valentine, so you can sing sweet lullaby's to me while I wipe your brow with my kerchief and tickle your nose with rose petals" NO (although it is that as well to others). I find it rather desperately intense in its declaration. Like I'm about to say my last goodbye and you going off to some ravaged destination, you're looking at me through your carriagewindow lunging for my hand while I strain towards yours against the platform. Steam billows and a whistle blows signalling departure as we share this last bitter-sweet exchange ". Like that.
As with this one, after reading some poems I want to lose myself in them over and over again, or I long for whatever the poet was relating and sometimes am left just heartbroken because of it. Some leave me with such excitement my face hurts from the smiles, others with an ache as they reminds me of what I do or do not have or even remind me of long forgotten pains. Others let my imagination take to the skies and commune with raptors in flight and some leave me gasping for air, having created such turbulence within me that I feel as though "my self" might implode.
" Emily Dickinson said, "If I read a book and it makes my body so cold no fire ever can warm me, I know that is poetry;" and Dylan Thomas defined poetry this way: "Poetry is what makes me laugh or cry or yawn, what makes my toenails twinkle, what makes me want to do this or that or nothing."
My two cents worth is that poetry is a summary of my reading preferences, it is hard, spontaneous, a stark portrait with no inhibitions_it does not have the luxury of time to dabble in niceties or create soft landing pads. My brand of poetry is designed deliver a punch that inflicts the most gratifying damage in the shortest time. It is sadistic, it will not entertain a happy ending for the sake of the reader, based on the history of what sells. My poetry says take me as I am and I'll do with you what I will............
If you enjoy this medium, how do you define it, how does it influence your outlook on life.
These are some of my favourites and I have shared others I love equally in my previous posts.
