A BLACK CINDERELLA STORY

 A BLACK CINDERELLA STORY

If I was Cinderella, I would have choked the life out that cringe old step-mother, and hanged those two hag sisters on a poisonous oak tree. I figure that if I have the strength to clean house and cook, I surely do have the strength to haul three ugly heifers out of my life. This is something that any normal Ebonian girl would resort to, if she was forced to step into her glass slipper shoes, and go combat on her haters. Although, glass slippers, in the afro-universe? Mmh?! We shall soon search for their existence, as the story unfolds. Yes my people, this is yet another exclusive fairy turned folklore, by yours truly. You all know that everything changes and gains a new perspective whenever other worlds converge into the afro-universe. So, kindly bear with me, as I take you on yet another wild African adventure in to the world of Black Cinderella or to put it in simple terms, perhaps Nubirella will be a suitably mashed up name for one gentle Nubian Princess.

Like I said, there is no way I would allow some gold-digging ox of a woman to rain on my parade, while I still have breath in me. No sir, would I allow some rodent-looking hood rats to come into my palace, knock me off my throne, and turn me into a helpless maid. I do not care which magic spells they are working with, to wrestle me out of my God-given inheritance. I have all my great ancestral mothers watching over me, to clobber any type of witch attempting to steal my shine.

Not on their watch, will my god-mothers allow their own son to be reduced into a simpleton by some strange woman, whose background is unknown. For all we know, she can easily be a mami wata, although this comparison is a bit of a stretch even for me, as mami watas are known to be beautiful seductive sirens, and unlike like this loathsome maleficent.

What of my mother's people and my siblings? Where is the extended family? Surely, they cannot be missing in this context, as the afro-universe cannot function without its inflexible cultural traditions. To put it plainly, polygamy runs this afro-verse. Yet, this is not my story at all. Ofcourse, it is my duty to give you an exclusive tale of Nubirella from an African perspective, and how she finally clinched her happily ever after. Alright, now come along with me, as I take you on a journey through the afro-verse, where enchanting fairy tales turn to epic folklores.

Once upon a time, beautiful Nubirella was still mourning the loss of her beloved mother, when out of the blue, her grieving father through intense enchantment, bumped into a vile female, whom he quickly rushed into marriage with, while having acknowledged her two cocky daughters as his own. All the people of the kingdom far away wanted to know was, where did the Cruella of a step-mother emerge from? Who was her former husband? But most importantly, what magic spell did she conjure up in order to trap the poor widower in an unholy matrimony? No sooner had the wedding band slipped through her chubby hand, than her red horns began to show, leaving her new husband more vulnerable than he was before, and his only daughter to her wicked intentions.

Nonetheless, when Nubirella's grandmother got wind of the impromptu marriage between his son-in-law and the alien broad, through her cowry shells, she arose and set sail toward the kingdom far far away, in an attempt to rescue her beloved child from her wicked step-mother. Meanwhile, in the kingdom far far away, Nubirella had assumed the role of a house help, in her father's house, pandering to every whim of her jealous step-mother and her ignorant and overly pampered step-sisters, to her father's displeasure. He was at a loss of how he would be of help to her, either because he did not want to ruffle the feathers of his new wife or was under heavy mind control.

Consequently, it was Nubirella who bore the brunt of her step-mother's cruelty, not knowing how to get rid of the beautiful girl for good, so that her daughters may take her shine, as well as her inheritance. Everytime she attempted to put out the young girl's light, she instead budded and bloomed like a lotus flower, radiating in flawless beauty, while her own daughter's became more venomous and dark.

It took exactly ten solid days for Nana to reach the shores of the kingdom far far away at twilight, and just in time for the royal fire dance festival. The family of Nubirella was invited to the royal event, whereby the young Prince, among other bachelors, was expected to choose a wealthy madien to be his first wife, and Nubirella's family were to gladly attend, except for her, whose step-mother intended to keep her hidden from the royal lime light, so as not to hog all the attention, to the detriment of her unpleasant daughters. Besides, they had attained the prime age of marriage, and hence needed eligible suitors to woo them in marriage.

Nana finally arrived in the kingdom far far away, much to Nubirella's surprise, and fast spoke the mystery plan to her granddaughter at her doorstep in the same night, while the rest of her family was away attending the royal fire dance. Nana's plan was to push her grandchild into her destiny, as divine timing was nigh. Hurriedly, Nana weaved a blessing onto her granddaughter, while chanting for her ancestors to join together in on the fire dance. In the twinkle of an eye, Nubirella turned into a royal lady, with her print blue dress, raven nubilocks on her head, glass sandals on her feet, and a black Pegasus as her ride to the fire dance. So therefore, she bid her Nana farewell, as she hopped on the winged horse, which flew her off to the night festival.

When Nubirella arrived at the royal fire dance, all eyes were on her for she was a sight for sour eyes. Of course, the Prince was taken by her beauty so much that he could not help himself, and was compelled to ask her for a dance, for which she obliged him. Therefore, they danced the night away, while gazing into each other’s' eyes, and jamming to the rhythm of the music, way into the night. At exactly midnight, both the Prince and Nubirella began to slowly ascend supernaturally whisked in the air, and away from the fire dance, his crown and her glass sandals shone like gold, to the amazement of the royal guests, who gazed at them, star struck by their glorious transformation into crowned king and queen.

Next to them, were their ancestors and guardian angels who appeared in the night sky, dancing along with them in approval of their impending union. As you can imagine, all that was made wrong, suddenly became right as rain, and as the king and queen finally landed on ground, that evil step mother and her ugly ducklings had already disappeared into thin air, paving way for a happily ever after.

The moral of this story is that even African girls can transform into beautiful princesses. Also, never allow envy to drive you into dimming anyone's light, in order for yours to shine, because such a reckless action on your part will seriously backfire on you, and as a result, you will end up on the losing side of karma. End of story.

 

MEETING THE ONE

 MEETING THE ONE

Young ladies, forget what you witnessed in those romantic chick flicks, for they are a skewed version of what true love really is. Based on my wide range life experience, I can certainly affirm that one's true love does not come in a perfect package, and especially not after you whisper a short general prayer to God, expecting that He will magically shift bible verses, in order to align you to your soulmate. Indeed, if wishes were horses, we would all be riding a herd of them. Nonetheless, the reality about true love is not a fairy tale, as some deem it to be. Before you get to find your true partner, there will be many forks in the road for you to overcome, and each is designed for your painful growth. If you think that the universe will grant you the ultimate gift, before it can test your ability to recognize, accept, and keep it, then think again. The truth is that your perfect partner will be hidden from you, until you awaken to your higher self, ascend to your greater self, and pursue your calling, is when you will come across your soulmate. There are no two ways about it, where true love matters.

Therefore, get your head out of fantasy land, romanticizing everything, soon as you begin to pine for someone new. God answers our prayers for a soulmate in the most transformative way, taking you through a difficult growth process, whereby you die to the mundane, and resurrect to the ultimate purpose. God does not want to loose His soldiers to wicked souls, hence he has to work on you, until you are ready for true love. If you really desire true love, you also must be true love material, otherwise you will always be on the lowerside of the love fence, next to the dirty dating pool pond, swimming with the frogs, rats, and snakes that continually take you for granted, bruise your ego, and eventually deceive you in the worst way.

In short, meeting the one is not a walk in the park. It is a journey for the brave at heart. Yet, I have met a few ladies who dared challenge me on this matter. "I bumped into my true love, and we moved in together a month later, and we have been inseperable since", one youngin once gloated but I forgave her ignorant self for she was a child. At twenty three years, you have not seen nor tasted anything yet, to be chiming in grown folks business. Most twenty three year olds have just left their parents' nest, stepped into early adulthood, and are in college or working to become independent. Therefore, the only type of real love they have experienced is parental love, if they are lucky to have loving parents in their lives.

Puppy love is what twenty somethings are still exploring with the opposite sex, from their teenage years, of which many budding adults will later learn the hard way that this kind of innocent love turns toxic real fast, and hence it is the mother of all heartbreak songs ever produced in all lifetimes. As yet, we have not even began to touch on sacrificial, struggle, and self love, which are in themselves, are painful character development tools, used to push us into maturity, as well as self-actualization. I bet you that when you get to this stage of your life, all those romcoms you love so dearly, will turn into punchlines for your seedy jokes.

Contrary to popular belief, love is not only for the birds but for us all. Although, to be fair, I do believe that the birds have mastered the art of being in satisfying monogamous relationships, until they drop dead, by a predator's deadly claw. Once the gentle bird meets up with the lady bird, they seal the love deal for a lifetime, dedicating their lives to one another, building a nestling for their baby birds, watching them grow, until they fly off into the sunset. Because their life span is short, perhaps their decision to stay with one another is beyond love. Maybe the two love birds, pun very much intended, decide to stay together for connection, protection, and preservation. I believe that these winged creatures trust and obey God's leading of their natural lives, than most humans do.

Yet, the law of the jungle is not kind to any creature, be it bird or man. It is a man eat man society afterall, and no creature is safe within the pecking order. In a word, we live in a fallen world, where none is safe, not in love nor in life. In fact, it is every man for himself, and God for us all. When it comes to love or to be loved, God is the one put on a pedastal before anything or anyone else. Who you worship, is also the one you glorify. Anyone or anything that comes before your God will lead you into disappointment, betrayal, and sometimes even to a sad fate.

Once you have learnt to put God first, then you graduate into self-love. Before you decide to dedicate your love and affection to anyone, make sure you direct love and care to yourself. Anyone who is quick to love others more than they love themselves, is a people-pleaser, looking for validation. After, finding your purpose follows in this direction of sacrificial love. You were not brought into this earth, merely to occupy space. Therefore, you must ask for God's guidance for your higher calling, before finding your true love. You will come to learn that in your purpose, is where you will find your soul mate.

Next, your happily ever after chapter in life opens up when you least expect it. Take que from Cinderella, the most favourite of disney princesses, and learn after her fairy tale. Once she conqured her toughest of battles, is when she met Prince Charming, who came in the nick of time, to rescue, marry, and live happily ever after.

 

 

 

IT'S AFRICAN TIME!

 IT'S AFRICAN TIME!

"There is no hurry in Africa!" I find the aforementioned statement to be utterly offensive to say the least. What, are we Africans not time conscious? The worst thing is that this African time narrative generates from our own tounges, making it more lethal, as well as a self-fulfilling prophesy. How about this statement that reads, "Take your sweet time, under the African sun." Eish! I blame the persons that came up with these retarded catch phrases. It is no wonder the continent is set backward, because we do not value our precious time. On the contrary, the European man is always quick to say, "Time is money", and that is why he most always has the money.

I had an old friend who fit right in to this African time mentality. Whenever we would make plans to meet up, it would take her at least two more hours to officially arrive at the venue, much to my distress. Moreover, when she finally arrived, she would laugh out loud and say, "Sorry my dear. You know how I operate on African time," as an apology for keeping me waiting on her like her house manager. Her blazé attitude for time was such a problem for me, so much so that I developed the habit of scheduling any meetings with her at least two hours in advance, just so that she would arrive in time, and not keep me waiting in the wings. I know that it would have been best for me to discard her for being a chronic late comer.

Nonetheless, here in Africa, it would seem a trivial matter, for one to toss away a long-time friendship over something minute as lateness. Normally we relinquish suspected witches and warlocks but not an incurable laggards, for that would be deemed by many to be petty. Needless to say, I am not perfect either. In fact I do have my African time moments, yet this lady friend took the cake together with its cream when it came to not keeping time.

Additionally, even in our private or public functions, you will hear an overzealous, yet underpaid master of ceremony make crass remaks such as, "Let's not operate on African time people!" I swear, if offense was a thieving bastard, then I would be its poster child, stealing everything from these ungrateful souls, including their sweet time. Anyhow, then the ignorant statement above made by the insensible emcee, would be followed by a roar of laughter, as if to confirm that indeed we are time wasters.

How I wish that I was born in those days, when our forfathers would just close their eyes and inhale the acrid smell in the air, before they could cough up the precise time of the day naturally. Our ancestors would awake up at dawn, having planned for the day's journey ahead of time, follow the sunrise to a tee, keep the pace of the hours, and be back from their safari right on time. Keep in mind that this was before the invention of the clock. Nonetheless, ever since the White Man's education became important to us, most of us can no longer tell time, let alone keep it.

However, my issue of time is not without a backstory to it. I do not know why but those analog clocks we love to hang against our walls at home, have been a serious cause of my persistent annoyance, and troubled childhood. Everytime I see one big old cloak hanging in someone's space, I immediately revert back to those painful memories of being whipped in school, for not being able to tell the time on the clock. It was bad enough that I still could not accurately tell time even at the age of ten, it was worse when my then mathematics teachers compounded my confusion, by introducing military time in my hearing, before I could master the normal time sequence.

Consequently, let us just say that it was a hard lesson for me to have learnt, and leave the rest for my local pastor, to spiritually deal with both my mental and emotional wounds. Anway, by the time I was a teeneger, this time thing, together with the subject of mathematics began to sink in slowly into my brain. I was finally able to tell time, yet only in the English language. Unfortunately for me, being multilingual proved to be very challenging, because time is told differently in different languages, though it remains the same.

Normally, the White man is meticulous about his time. He ensures that everything is done, not only on point, but also in time. He wagers that since he has only twenty four hours of the day, then he should make those hours count for something. That is why he works night and day, to ensure the fulfilment of a goal. I on the other hand take half of the responsibility and leave the rest to my societal upbringing. I mean, I have been indocrinated to having an eight hour beauty sleep, in order for my body to function on an optimal level. Beauty sleep is a sermon I imbibed since childhood, because television and those bourgois magazines said so.

Yet, not so for the white man, who  sleeps only when he breaks forth into success. Therefore, while I was busy sleeping, my fellow counterpart was churning yarn into gold. Nobody told me that I could work deep in the night, that there were non rules, that sleep was only meant for the hard workers. Indeed, ignorance is not blissful at all. As a matter of fact, being ignorant is a plague which affects one's prosperity in the worst way. Now that I slept through half of my lifetime on this earth, I figure that it is time to put in the work of recovering my timely years with hard work.

So, there you have it folks. As much as time and tide waits for no man, this rule may be an exception to Africans, where every time is tea time. As for me, I have personally made peace with the fact that I cannot change the African time mentality, even if I wanted to, but I will not allow it to derail me either.