That blackness

Black love, nothing more beautiful

Imagine being avoided or having to make a conscious decisions to avoid falling in love with someone black because somewhere in your mind you have been misinformed that only black folks carried the genotype for sickle cell?

You’ve been hurt before, when that someone realised you have sickle cell and they fled.

Their mother told them to flee, and they did.

And so now black love is only and illusion.

Your only option is to go outside of your race.

But wait!

What if I told you that we don’t have to see every relationship as if we’re going to have a family.

That we have options too, there’s always adoption.

Or can we have options and medical advances which we can screen our babies so we don’t have to deny ourselves of that which we desire?

What if it’s just love?

Love should not know sickle cell.

We went shopping for back to school this evening.

Manchild asked me what type of present that I will buy him when he graduates from university.

I lectured him that in my culture you look after your parents when you finish school.

He said that the three black men whom we met yesterday on the street in Birmingham, he said one asked him if I take care of him well?

He said yes.

He then told him to make sure he took care of me when he graduates from school.

Now that’s how it takes a village to raise a child!

It’s been a rough night for Manchild.

He’s spent the whole night in and out of the toilet, stomach churning.

Some children with sickle cell sometimes can develop a tendency to eating things which are not food.

It’s called PICA, it can go unnoticed. It is very dangerous.

My son struggles with this really bad.

It’s addictive, just as alcohol or drug addiction.

Not many parents who have children with sickle cell are aware of this, or even sickle cell centres.

The habit is discrete, it is said that it’s the low iron deficiency that causes it. Many theories and no cure or solution.

As a parent, it is so heartbreaking to discover the damage your child can cause to themselves, and the cost.

I am a fussy creative interior fanatic, I like my home and surrounding in order at times, this condition causes my son to cause damage to things in my home that is unimaginable.

I have been in tears, torment and shear frustration.

He is lying next to me and says:

Mum I don’t know why you put up with me.

Because I love you I said to him.

You know what my medication is mum?

What I asked?

You, you’re the best medicine that I can ever have.


I met a man today, he was jet black and gorgeous. He said he wanted me to be his second wife in front of his wife.

I said I will if you understand too that I will acquire a second husband.

My philosophy with fb in particular is to interact with people whom I wouldn’t normally meet in my everyday life.

We seem to have passed the age of innocence and into the age of virtual identity.

If you know me well you will know my dislike for constant virtual contact. I find it difficult, strips one of spirit.

We are spirit being not virtual being.

I would have many lovers if I allowed them to make love to me virtually.

I refuse to speak to any man who prefers to communicate with me on virtual media, it is weird and bizzare.

And so I don’t see why I seem to have many female friends who just want to communicate with me virtually.

Unless you live in a different country perhaps, and that is not even an excuse as many of these devices allows you to make calls.

I am a people’s person. I love the sound of words, laughter and utterances. I loath it when these precious emotions are lost in smilies.

I have lost many friends the past few years simply due to the fact that they only want to communicate with me virtual.

I don’t buy the excuse that we’re too busy to make phone calls and yet we’re constantly on the phone having virtual chats.

I loath the depersonalisation of these things, sometimes it creates a false sense of care. A person can type anything and say they’re fine, however when you speak to a person or if you go a step further and see them if that is not too much to ask, it’s different for emotions to be hidden.

I know that I make difficult demands by requesting to be treated as a human being and not as an android, but please bare this in mind if you consider yourself my friend.

I am far too real for these false sense of friendships.

I am not an android. If you’re one, you and I have nothing in common.

Yours really,


Sometimes, we single women do not know how lucky and blessed we are.

I was just standing in my kitchen making a quick meal, I’ve had to pop into the supermarket for groceries.

I am so exhausted after our road trip, for a brief moment I wished I had a Jamaican lover who would have cooked me some delicious food. (I don’t know why my imaginary man is Jamaican, but I don’t know any African men who can cook well!)

You don’t know how lucky you are, my imaginary voice told me. Yes you’re tired, you’re doing laundry, shopping and cooking.

Look at you, you’ve taken your child and travelled miles, some woman with a partner is arguing with their partner where to take their kids. Some are arguing over who should go shopping and some are screaming and crying over who should cook dinner. You can have a restful sleep without any unwanted sex too.

You have peace and tranquillity.

We must count our blessings instead of always being made to feel like some unwanted goods.


Marriage is not always a sign of two happy individuals.

Many will attend a wedding, but few will be there when weeping endures.

Many churches punish women in particular for having babies out of wedlock, but few provide an environment that is nurturing, supportive and loving for single women.

Many young people are being pushed into marriages in fear of being ostracised by their church if they find out that they’re having sex.

A church is just bricks, if there is no love and support.

For the past few months, since I got our dog, I have endured nothing but ridicule from some people.

Black woman with a dog seems to be something strange.

The worst is when I am called a white woman, I want to Jackie Chan people.

I don’t have to explain to every idiot who makes these comments that my dog has healed me from depression and loss.

My dog has done what no human could do,  give me an unconditional love. My dog knows how to reciprocate.

Didier came into our lives after my friend lost her baby. I was in a place where sadness and fear cuddled me. I started to cling to my only child. I lifted him out of his own bed and brought him into mine so that I wouldn’t spend the night crying.

When Didier came into our home,  all that stopped.

It’s been six months now, I have nursed and nurtured our puppy. He is a delightful and characterful.

An extension of our crazy life, I come through the door and chant like a warrior and he dances to the beat of my madness.

The loss of the baby is irreplaceable, but my son is able to be free without me causing some emotional damage to him.

Didier is the little brother Manchild dreams of. The play, they fight and play again.

I believe in art and nature as a healing entity. The catharsis drawn from both are extraordinary.

Art and nature reaches a core in our being that no human can.

I recently read the memoir of Leymah Gbowee, where she talks about paying $500 to fly a puppy from Ghana to Liberia with her kids. The pain that the war had caused her and her kids, the separation, the children’s love for their puppy could not be ignored.

These are African children. They had no contact with any white person, so what do we call them also?

I am infuriated whenever one is called “white” because they are not conform to people’s narrow and limited perception of blackness.

Depression and mental illness is high within our black community. The disproportionate amount of us who are under mental health care in the diaspora should alarm us.

One of the main causes of depression amongst us is loneliness. We are a people who are not used to living alone. Manchild recently went to spend two weeks with his dad. Didier, my faithful companion kept me strong. I threw myself into diy and creativity. I have never spent two weeks without my son in his almost eleven years of his life. The  stress and unrest, when you have a child with sickle cell is unbearable. You live by your phone,.

When Manchild was picked up, Didier cried unbearably. He was depressed actually, he missed Manchild terribly.

For me I cannot comprehend why some of us spent so much time in a concrete building called church jumping up and down and fail to utilise the natural blessings the creator has bestowed upon us, instead of praying for material blessings.

It is almost as if some of us have signed our birthright away, given the natural blessings to “white people” and therefore any black person who claim dare to claim their birthright has to endure taunts and ridicule from others.

And so I write this from the garden, whilst young master Didier runs around playing football, he is a footballer after all.

I am a living proof that loving your neighbour works.

My neighbour opposite me and his mate assembled my two wardrobes last night.

The charged me so little I bought them KFC and beer.

This man, with tooth missing, we call him ginger, if you catch him in a good mood you’ve hit the jackpot. He’ll do anything for you, the level of expertise and workmanship is phenomenal.

He said he’s dyslexic, I said I know many with double and triple degrees who cannot change a light bulb.

He did my decking for just a beer last year with pallets.

Painted my kitchen and cupboards. He has just finished painting my living room, now my wardrobe.

My dining room is next.

I am eternally grateful to this man.

I love his presence because he is a decent man, he’ll swears but will never say anything filthy to you or try any dirty tricks because you’re a woman on your own.

God bless Ging💗

Back in school girls often followed the most popular girl in school. Not because she had anything to offer them that they themselves didn’t have. It was because that is what we did.

Once we grow, we look back and reflect, only to realise that we followed because we didn’t take time to admire the beauty and greatness within us.

My friend and I were talking this morning about our female friends.

The older we get, we lose many friends.

We begin to value quality over quantity. Real over fake.

Value and self respect over popularity.

We’re not afraid to walk into a wedding or church alone, without being flunked by friends.

Go to the cinema or on holiday alone, because being alone doesn’t mean we’re lonely.