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Despite being there for 3 days.. I didnt see much.. beware the brain. Don’t read while eating!!! The date of my flight to Bucharest Baneasa was the 18th of June 2010. This was already my 6th trip of 2010 after … Continue reading
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Not many people know this but prior to Ghana, I was a bad boy. I was skilled in the art of committing crime and framing people. I was part of gangs and spent most of my college days playing football … Continue reading
Today is the 1st of August 2018 – was brushing my teeth earlier while getting ready to go to work and this memory appeared so vividly in my head I decided to write about it. I need a muse! So … Continue reading
I am off to Indonesia, I remember thinking. I had done my research, had watched all the episodes of Ultimate Traveller – why did they only ever do one season?? That TV show could inspire even the most timid of … Continue reading
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Date is 2nd of August 2017. Soooo tired.. couldn’t sleep last night. Dreamt I was being chased by a Lion on a snow covered mountain. I woke up just as I lost my footing on the hill with the Lion … Continue reading
To be recorded lest it be forgotten. Not to be questioned, perhaps not even to be understood.
I walked home today after getting my hair braided, wasnt a hot day, wasnt particularly cold either, 9pm and the sun was still out. Last night I had a movie day.. Watched Bahubali 2, some british gay movie called Pass, John Wick 2 and Alien Covenant. I could have played the HTC Vive, I could have gone to play badminton.. but I didnt.. I didnt want to do anything.. that is what disappointment does.. May the 28th played on my mind. It played over and over in my mind.
The scenario: You know it is gonna happen, you prepare for it to happen, but when the time comes, it is not the same. It looks the same on the outside.. but on the inside its different. It is closed off, It is limited, it does not feel the same way you expected it to feel, It is not what you looked forward to all those months ago; it is not what you prepared for. Not what you hoped for.
Dilemma: So what do you do when what you expected to happen doesnt happen. (Mariah Carey song ‘Breakdown’ just popped into my head) When it has changed so much you do not recognise it anymore. I guess in someways change is inevitable. You make do with what you can get and you do what is best for you to thrive.. not what is best for others to enjoy. Do you mope in the corner and refuse to accept? Do you get angry and demand to leave or demand changes? Do you accept it for what it is and let it be until you have the chance to walk away?
Solution: I accepted it.. I grinned and beared it.. Then I walked away and did not look back. I will not look back again..
Epilogue: I did my best, I solved my problems and tasks and helped where I could without breaking rules. Today I witnessed friendships being made, I witnessed a captain letting a side down. I witnessed someone with two faces praising one minute and hating another. I witnessed a brother walking away from a sister, I witnessed someone go from 1st place to last and from 3rd to first.
After all that what did I get? 60 pounds worth.. a 6 month wait.. and they couldnt even upload the evidence on too facebook.
I walked away and did not look back. I will not look back at you again. Disappointment
To be recorded lest it be forgotten. Not to be questioned, perhaps not even to be understood. Let it be X
It is 2012. ‘Son, we have to go to Ghana this year. I am going to ship all the stuff finally and we’ll all go this Xmas’. This sounded like a dream come true.. finally all the junk will be … Continue reading
The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2014 annual report for this blog. Here’s an excerpt: A San Francisco cable car holds 60 people. This blog was viewed about 3,500 times in 2014. If it were a cable car, it … Continue reading
Distantly familiar countries are appearing on my blog stat list – one person on Saturday the 22nd took a lot of time to read every post possible – Same person even today 24 November 2014. I hope you are pushing … Continue reading
I saw Lucy on the way to Oval Tube station on the 28th of Jan 2014. I was on my way to pick up a couple of Polish Couch surfers who had arrived late. She was on the phone and walking to the station while I was walking away with the csers back to my place. I looked at her and immediately recognised her distinctive nose scar, however something was off, not off.. something was different – how belly was the size of a football – Lucy was now pregnant. I smiled – tapped her on the shoulder and waved. She looked at me scared – gripping her phone tightly and continuing her walk to the station. I said Lucy its me, congratulations as I motioned towards her large bulge – she turned back looked at me as if she remembered me and smiled and then walked away without breaking her conversation on the phone. I came to the realisation that that was going to be the last time I ever saw Lucy. I scratched my head – Lucy and me at one point in time were best friends. How is it now she barely acknowledges me. And you know what this means do you readers – it means another story.
It started back in 2005 – can’t remember the exact date but it had to to be in April or Mar. My records only go far as back as 2005 – the website we met on got new owners and I was kicked out for not fitting the criteria of the users they wanted to work with.
So in 2005 I got a message from Lucy saying hi, nice pictures. I replied saying thanks and the conversation took off from there.
For the next month or so we talked everyday. I discovered that the reason she wrote to me was linked to her ex boyfriend. She said she had thought that I was him under a different alias. But the longer she wrote to me the more she realised that we were two different people.
It got to the point that we emailed everyday. Swapped pictures and talked about everything and anything. She used to tell me that I looked different in every pic. She used to love my stories from my uni days, such as ‘save the first dance’, the day I got arrested and the way I got Rachel. In return I got information on the random stuff she would wear to the Bristol University library – pink slippers and pyjamas!. We used to talk about that fact in 2005 nine guys out of ten would be wearing CK boxing shorts. we both used to call her powergirl1 because of all the things she would do for her men. Cleaning,washing, knitting, breakfast in the morning. Lucy told me everything – seems like eeeeverything just poured out of her when we spoke and I made the decision that I would never be her boyfriend and she was aware.
Me and Lucy had a few things in common, she was a big fan of hiphop and Rnb and also of 50cent and in those days so was I. Maybe 2 months into our daily conversation the opportunity came for us to meet. There was a 50 cent concert in Wembley and I had a spare ticket as I had been let down and I invited Lucy to join me at the concert. her response was: Glad you got tickets for the concert.. I’m def up for going.. if we stay in a b&b can we stay up after the concert and watch dirty dancing while eating jelly and ice cream!? I am smiling at this point – Lucy did make me laugh – made my days zoom by when working in the office as a receptionist when there was nothing to do or the CEO was out of the office and everything let their hair down.
The concert came up two weeks later and we met for the first time. Lucy picked me up in her red car near Oval station. I remember her being so serious, hardly smiling or even looking at me. Can imagine she was asking herself ‘what the hell am I doing here’. The concert was interesting – we had pretty decent seats near the front, 50cent was on stage and Mase made a weird but brief appearance. The was some silliness when some of 50cent’s entourage started throwing full unopened bottles into the audience. Had one of those bottles hit anyone not prepared, there would have been serous injury – I remember myself thinking. There was a fight that broke out pretty near to us, I quickly pulled Lucy out from where we were sitting and we took up positions on the side of the arena. We watched as the fight spilled over to where we had been sitting. At this point Lucy held me tightly – she had finally relaxed.
After the concert, Lucy drove me home and returned home, we talked about the concert and about meeting again. I invited her to to for me to cook the following week and she came over. We sat and talked and talked and talked and before we knew it it was nearly midnight. Lucy put on her shoes and I showed her out – a couple of minutes later there was a knock on the door and Lucy was there saying it was late and she didn’t feel awake enough to drive home. I said sure but if she is not up by 7 then her car would get clamped. she said no prob. So there is was our second meeting and Lucy had invited her self over to spend the night. She apologised for that the following day.
We continued to write almost daily after that I am tried to arrange to see Lucy again but it never happened, she always had something to do. Us guys know what this means when a woman always has something to do. At this time I had moved job. I was now working at the CPS building in Blackfriars.. and by strange coincidence Lucy had got her first job in Blackfriars working for PR company. She would invite me out for lunch but then she would always blow me out.
By this time I had met Sofia online and we were talking almost daily and getting closer. Lucy at this time had started to date a guy from her local tennis club in Purley – Simon. It later transpired that Simon worked with her hence the blow outs at lunch time.
Looking in my emails there is a big chunk of missing email history. weird… I recall between the end of November and early January we hardly spoke. I was now totally into my long distance relationship with Sofia and Lucy was with Simon. I remember getting a call at about 2am. Lucy was on the phone crying – I could tell she had been drinking. She told me she had locked her self on the balcony of her flat just to talk to me. She shouted at me accusing me for not being at her party and not being there instead of her bf Simon. I was lie.. err. I reminded her that Simon was her boyfriend and she had to focus on him. I now had a girlfriend and I was happy. I assured her that we were still friends and I am there for her. She screamed.. but its not the same.. I can tell you anything – but I can’t tell Simon. I told her everything thing takes time and convinced her to open the door to the balcony so that people could get to her. She emailed me the following day telling me that her best friend had heard most of her conversation and so had Simon. her best friend who ever it was you were talking to.. you must really like alot. I reminded Lucy that I was no longer available but I was her friend.her relationship to simon ended that day. I recall for my bday in 2006 Lucy invited me over to her place in Baron’s court to for a meal. I remember turning up and being astounded by the standard of the house. This was a proper house I probably would never be able to afford. White walls, rugs, huge mirrors, stags head etc.
Lucy had baked chicken with too many vegetables. She realised then that I was not a meat fan. She had also baked a cake. Sigh – wish phones in those days had cameras. I think I had a Nokia 3210.. no camera. But the cake was funny – think it had dropped or something and it was covered in smarties. We ate up and then watched dirty dancing, Lucy’s favourite movie. She wanted me to stay the night that night, but I declined.
After this, I don’t believe I saw Lucy again for a couple of years.. 2007. I focused my life around Sofia and Lucy angry at my rejection hardly spoke to me.
A few days before my bday, a few days before Valentines in 2007 I received this email from Lucy out of the blue:
oh my… I think its a sign that i should STOP trying to write this but here goes again..
last night i wrote this about you ..
I miss you. Although i dont deserve to see you again – I hope that at least one day I will. I should probably explain it all to you – as long as you dont use it as a case study! – but im not sure it would even matter now. You were important to me – in my life – although i was scared of you and never relaxed with you – I still trusted you more than most people in my life – and could not let go of you. I was/am wary of getting closer to you – because the more you about me – the less i find out about you – I still have no idea who you are – or what you really felt – and i dont know if i ever would.
When we first started talking, i never actually thought we would meet up. Thats why even wen we said about times that we would meet.. i still didnt think it would really happen.. as you were a complete stranger.. and i thought it wouldnt matter if we arranged it and then i didnt go through with it.. because you were a stranger and I could just stop talking to you anytime i wanted and it wouldnt matter. But then as we talked more.. and I told you way too much about me.. and you told me some tiny little bits about you.. i had this idea in my head about us being friends..and meeting up .. and how perfect it would be cos we got on so well. I think the main problem was that i built it up so much in my head, and i paniked that it wouldnt really be like that. I find it really hard to relax around you .. I was paranoid about what you thought of me .. mainly because you never told me… even if we were just friends.. i still wanted you to see me in a certain way.. especially after you told me you werent attracted to me.. that made me insecure even more at the thought of you. I wish i had met you at a different time in my life. the year you picked was possibly the worst. With all important things in my life.. that i look forward to .. and set up as a big deal.. like my cousins wedding before i met you.. I go into self destruct.. I managed to put on over half a stone in 2 weeks before being a bridesmaid.. and things kinda went down hill after that.. when my skin got bad… I really didnt want to see you .. or anyone. i had seen you more.. because i knew I wanted to see you more than i wanted to be with him… but I couldnt see you when i felt that bad .. becaue it would only make me feel worse. I know its really shallow sounding.. but i think you kinda know this about me.. when i am in control.. and happy with myself.. I am nicer and can be relaxed with you. But i can lose it again so easily. It takes the smallest thing for me .. one comment from someone.. and I lose sight of what is normal.. but to my friends i never let them know i feel bad. If we had met the year before..things would have been so different.. you could have been the one to come over in the middle of the night.. and we would have got to know each other at night after we slept together.. and maybe been just friends.. in real life not on email.. or something else im not sure.. but thats what i wanted.. and kinda pushed that further away. The few times i have seen you havent helped me know anything more about you though.. you are so closed off to letting anything out.. but i guess i didnt see you enough.. or get close enough to you .. for you to be able to want to tell me anything.. or be in a postion to.. it was weird when you were with sofia.. for a while i thoguht you were going to sell out the rest of your life to be with someone for their sake and not for yours. especially after some of the feelings you have had for others in the past in comparison. but then i was relieved when you still wanted to be my friend even though you were with her.. that is strange i have no idea why that was a good thing!? When i say i was scared of you.. i mean that i was wary really.. of how strong and independant you were.. you dont need anyone.. and whether or not i was there.. didnt make a difference.. you would be just the same with or without it..and you make me nervous sometimes..thats why i cant relax as well… i have no idea why but you do.. i think it was easier when you were with Sofia because there was nothing to question.. you were with someone else… i know you said you would never be in a relationship with me (thanks for that bluntness by the way! haha) but i was scared that i might end up wanting that. i wish i could have just let go of it all.. and enjoyed it for what it was… and not taken so seriously what might or might not have happened.
to be continued
This was the story I was laughing about on my way to work today March the 17th 2014.
I was 10 or 11 at St Stephens primary school and it was some sort of sports assessment at the school. We were being tested on sports at school – our results were being taken and submitted somewhere for some national school survey or something.
We had to choose two or three sports by option and 3 compulsory. I cannot remember which were my options but I remember the compulsory ones.
The first sport activity was the 100 metre sprint. My trainers were on their last legs (or last laces). They had started to talk a few days earlier and me reporting to my dad that my trainers were on the verge of death often lead to getting in trouble, as a kid I simply decided that wearing talking trainers was better than the physical damage I would no doubt get.
For the 100 metre sprint, I was able to tie the laces of my trainers around the bottom of the soles of my trainers to tie the mouth shut so it would not flap while I ran. I managed to get a gold for that run. The idea of the laces worked to an extent. The next race or time trial was the hurdles – remember I said that the idea of the laces worked to an extent. Well the laces wore away and my shoes were barking as if they were alive. Haha – do you remember ever having talking trainers. Used to be great in the rain! getting home and finding your feet soaked to the bone and having to wear socks in the house to hide he embarrassment. I think that’s where I got it from. The reason why I never remove my socks at any time apart from on the beach or in the shower.
Any how I tried to hurdle in my talking trainers and I ended up getting a bronze. Mr Beech knew I could run faster than that (he had been supervising the Kwame / Jason Race) and said I should try again tomorrow..
The following day, I came in my shoes, I told Mr Beech that I had forgotten my trainers – but the truth is that I had no trainers. The talking trainers could not be saved.. no matter how much Pritt stick or PVA fish paste glue I had put on it the previous night. In the end I had to choose a pair of trainers from the spare set of trainers that the school kept. The only suitable pair of trainers in the spare bunch were two sizes too small for me. Dunno if you guys have seen the red shoe episode of IT crowd where Jen forces her size 7 feet into size 5 shoes. Haha – lets just say you should have seen what my feet looked like when I took the trainers off my feet! Any way I ran in those trainers and got a silver.
The last compulsory sport activity was the high jump. This is the thing that was making me laugh this morning. The high jump was indoors and so I did not have to wear trainers. The high jump is simple.. you have seen it on tv. You simply run and man-oeuvre your whole body over the horizontal pole. The higher the height, the higher the prize.
Everyone or pretty much everyone cleared the bronze height, diving over the pole Olympic style. The next was the silver one, not everyone could do this. classmate after classmate tried and failed. A few of the more sporty and lighter people were able to do it though. When it came to my turn I thought to myself ‘I got this’. I ran at full speed towards the bar that I had to clear. I think I must have been too used to running in my talking trainers or something because I messed up my run completely (I am laughing now). Picture two cars playing chicken and one car deciding to pull out last minute.. that what it was like with me and the bar. I had run far too fast and had left little or no space to allow for my body to get in the right angle.. so I did what anybody would do in those circumstances.. To avoid hitting the bar I literally jumped with two feet towards the bar and landed on my two feet one the crash mat behind the bar. I remember looking behind me and jumping for joy at clearing it. Some of my classmates were laughing.. others looked on in disbelief. Mr Beech looked on in bemusement. ‘Kwame’, he said, ‘do that again’. I tried it again, but I could not clear the bar – my run was well timed but I knocked the bar on my way down. Okay go and sit down – we watched as the others all tried for gold, I tried for gold as well but failed. After the tests had concluded, we all took time to freestyle the bar.. no pressure, just fun to see who could clear the bar. I remember Luis telling me to try doing that two footed jump again and no matter how many times I tried.. I could not even get close to the height of the bar, let alone jump over it. Somethings are only supposed to happen once.
I recall Mr Beech telling of my feat to another teacher – he completely messed up his running up.. but somehow managed to leap over the bar from a 20cm distance.. never seen anything like it he said.
I told this story to my flatmate just now and she was laughing – not sure if I captured the intensity of the situation in my words above. But aye I have not written for ages.. I am rusty. Ghana part 2 will be better. Stay tuned.!
I have been lame with my blog recently and I apologise.. weird insomnia.. meaning that I have just been exhausted and lethargic the last few weeks. Was meaning to post up this song a while back but lost the link. … Continue reading
Originally posted on The diaries of a black traveller:
I was sitting here working today and I received a notification that a young person had died and needed to be removed from the system. Reading through the notes of the young…
I never really wanted to go to university. I had had offers from several teams to play for them on a semi pro basis and thus never applied for university. I had figured that I would work in a nearby Mcds or Sainsbury’s and let my footballing career take a chance. I hadn’t applied to university by the time the deadline was two days away and when my dad found out all hell broke loose. He said if I want to play football then I would have to move out. I said fine okay I will. He was like ‘okay go and pack your bags’. I was like eh!! ‘I need time’. He said ‘no…. It’s either apply for university or get out now’. So 2 months after the Ghana trip I am at Southampton studying Law and Social welfare. I chose the furthest UNI my grades could get me into and vowed he would never come to my graduation.
Before I get on with this story I wanna go back to this whole football things VS Uni thing. Earlier this year (2013) my dad told me that a girl I grew up with, ‘Anita someone, was playing for the England woman’s team professionally. I have pictures together with her as kids. I was going to tweet her a picture and ask if she remembers me.. But I thought better of it.. she might think that I want some money from her or something so I have not contacted her. But the point is that she was given the chance to do what she wanted and look where she is – playing for England and doing what she loves as a career. I don’t think my dad saw the irony in telling me about her. In September when Sasha’s parents came to visit and we had a gathering at my place along with Pearl, a lady that Sasha was volunteering for, and Fransecha, Sasha’s friend. My dad some how brought up the topic that I could have been a footballer when I was younger but he decided against it because not many footballers make it big and he believed I was happy with his help in helping me to go to University. Hah.. big mistake on his part, no-one agreed with him and Pearl was very vocal in getting the message across to say that he was wrong and that he had no right to make that decision for me. I chipped in by reminding him about Anita and look where she got when she had the right support. There is one life to live and every opportunity that exists should be taken. Children should be encouraged. I doubt that my dad will ever bring that subject up again.
So I am at university, I got there alone. My dad didnt want to drive me so I took the national express bus and I followed the map once I reached Southampton. I made it to the halls of residence and partook in the Big Brother house entering experience. I think I was 4th to arrive. The halls I was in had 4 guys, Me, Tom, Kwasi, ginger, 5 girls Clare, Sarah, Nat, Ellie and Emma. Eventually it changed – we got Armani and Dave while Ellie, Ginger and Sarah moved out because they quit Uni for different reasons. Aaaaaany way this is about the first dance.. so lets fast forward.
At Uni, the first few weeks I was anti social – I didnt go to any of the freshers events. I didnt know anyone and did not want to know anyone, I was a cool black man from South London. I didnt do this studying and getting drunk malarky. I had my links and footballers back home that I chilled with so I spent my time playing playstation and communicating with friends back in London. On weekends I would commute back to London to play football for my local team. I said there were 9 people in my halls but in the next block there were 9 guys in the other set of halls.. poor guys.. at uni but no girls in their halls. The funny thing is the floor above us were all girls :).
BOOM BOOM (Tom pounding on my locked door)- Kwame coome oooout.. we are going out and you cannot say no. I was like naaaah. And then someone said it.. He can’t dance – thats what it is.. leave him be. I was like whaaaaaaat. But truth be known I had never been to a club before or drank alcohol on a social level at that time. I could dance though. I had danced at my school leaving ball and in front of the mirror when my favorite tune came on.. but not in a club. Another guy said we are going on the pull, you know what that is don’t you Kwame.. I was like.. yeah ofcourse I know what going on the pull is. (I had noooo idea) One asked so you gonna pull some girls with us then or is there something we need to know. At this point I opened my door! Ha.. I could not back out now, man was trying to make out I didnt have skills! Puhleeeease, This is me there were talking about, I was from South London – original badman!. I said fine, I will go out with you guys and yes I will pull girls (whatever that meant) – you guys will be bowing to me at the end of the night. But I threw in a condition that I realised in my relatively short time in Southampton – I said I would pull the first black girl we see in the club. I knew there were hardly any black girls in Southampton that were students, let alone that would go clubbing. As a result I went with the presumption that I would not have to pull anyone one 🙂
We made it to the club and I did some quick surveliance, there were no black girls in the club and so I had nothing to do but stand and watch everyone and drink my first ever club alcohol drink, my bacardi breezer:) 30 mins into the night my heart sank however as lo and behold.. a black woman entered the club with her friend and this black girl she was stunning.. I thought – daaaaaamn… (picture Icecube here from the Friday series) How on earth am I even going to be able to talk to a girl like her, let alone pull her. Before the others could see them, I left my drinks with the guys and told them I was going to the bathroom. Funny I had never done this before and I have never done it since, but on my way to the toilet I walked up to this black lady and put 5 pounds into her hands and said, you are officially the most beautiful woman in here, buy yourself a drink on me. Then without another word I headed to the loo.
After I got back from the loo and went back to the guys. They were all smiling, Kwame.. look over there.. a black lady.. hmmm, so they had seen her. I said lets go and dance. They said Kwame didnt you say you would pull the first black girl we saw in the club. I thought.. damn.. I am going to look like such an idiot.. why did I say such a thing. But at that moment my mouth said to my brain,’don’t worry I got this’ and then dutifully announced to everyone: ‘I will get her, give it 5 mins’. My brain was in shock! Seemed at the time that my mouth knew more about what was going on than I did. We went to dance – with the guys all chanting Kwame Kwame Kwame.
So we got to a clear bit on the dance floor and started dancing, two minutes later while I am dancing with myself, guess who taps me on my shoulder and says, hey I bought the drink you got for me. You should have seen the guys faces 🙂 Because from their perspective they had not seen me do the pre-activity of seeing this girl first or giving her money to get a drink and mysteriously disappearing. All they saw was that a gorgeous black girl had come directly to me out of all the guys in the club and started talking to me. The guys I came with could not understand it. They had all stopped dancing and were watching intensely.
I said to the girl there is one more thing that the most beautiful girl in the club gets as a reward, and she said whats that. I said can I kiss you. She smiled and said yes. So me and this black angel are kissing and the guys are just struggling to comprehend what was going on. They stood around like minions from despicable me waiting for instructions. We kissed for about 3 minutes until she stopped me and motioned to the guys. When I looked across, all the guys were on their knees bowing and rising in my direction saying ‘we are not worthy, we are not worthy’. The black girl laughed and asked ‘are these your friends then’?. I said ‘yes – it appears that they agreed with me when I said that you were the most beautiful in here’. She asked me if I could pick out a guy for her friend.. who was the ugly girl tag along – haha.. when I asked for volunteers my roommates swiftly dispersed. I managed to convince Aaron, one of the guys who lived on the same floor of us to take the beautiful girl’s mate to dance.
Once her mate was distracted and satisfied, I talked bit to this beautiful woman, found out she was from Nigeria and this was her first and last time out clubbing. I asked her for her number, but then I realised I didnt have my phone on me and neither did she. She was a medical student we talked and kissed for about an hour and then her friend tapped her shoulder saying they had to go. Seemed like Aaron had failed in his task to impress. I guess it didnt matter though – my name was now cemented in the history books 🙂
When we got in the guys told the girls of my story and feats, one black angel and a few dances from a few drunk white girls soon turned into 7 girls being pulled and all over me. Sentances like ‘he didnt even do anything’ ‘he just stood there’ and ‘she came to him and started kissing him’ rang round like a chorus from a Lily Allen song.
I never saw that Nigerian girl again in the end. In the end she was the only black girl that entered the club that day and the only black girl I ever pulled at university. Funny aye.. some things are supposed to happen.
Save the first dance 😉
Posted in Uni Life
Tagged Bet, black girl, clubs, Dancing, pulling, Southampton, Uni
Jason – Best friend greatest rival! ‘The Amazing race’ – the play ground race between me and Jason, the rivals! This all started from a question Vicky asked Jason while we were in class ‘who is faster out of you … Continue reading
Shola
After secondary school I opted for a new start – didnt want to be held back by those who disrupted me. From my secondary school, only me and Ahmed were the ones that went to this college. Ahmed was a best friend throughout my college years but his story will be later – this is about Shola
In college intervals between some classes were 3 hours. College was 1 hour away from where I lived and with only 2 pounds pocket money if I wanted lunch as well as enough money to get home then I could only take the bus twice a day – once to get to college and once to get home. So to kill the 3 hour slot we played football. There was no set schedule and it was hard to get players involved so I put flyers up in the canteen letting people know there would be pople on the football pitch at lunch times. Shola was one of the first people to start turning up regularly. He was built like Van Damme – arms the width of tree trunks, he spoke with a fast north London accent with a slight stutter, the funny thing was he was so polite. He rode a motorbike and always wore that type of jacket coupled with a baseball cap he wore backwards.
On the his first day I kicked the ball to him to see what he could do. He challenged me to try and take the ball off him. I told him that he didnt know who he was messing with.. I was a TOP defender after all and I didnt want to embarrass him by leaving him on the floor dazed. He then pulled off this trick that to date I have only seen him and Ronaldinho do. (youtube link). Me and Shola were going to get on just fine.
We played many games together, we were regulary football buddies, never a bad word said against each other. I introduced him to my gf at the time Rachel, haha and he didnt believe me or her when we said we were together. She was toooo.. sigh – never mind this is not her story. There was one occasion when we both had finished early and made our way to the football pitch. No one was around to start a game so we took turns shooting the ball at each other. We talked about how big the goals were and how it seemed impossible to be able to miss a penalty and how we didnt get what all the hype for David Beckham was about. I remember what was on my feet that day. My Fila suede boots. One foot had my green version one and the other foot had my blue pair. This was the fashion back then.
I saw an ad in the paper for players to play in a football tournament, cost was £20 per team. I posted up in the college that I needed 9 players and the cost would be £5 per person (profit). 16 people responded I chose 8 people and waited. A day before the tournament – Shola eventually bumped into me – ‘about the tournament, can I play’ I responded ‘your name was already on the list’. We knocked clenched fists together and that was that.
We lost in the semi final to the eventual winners but we all played our hardest.
Left college for Uni – Shola was going to attend Brunel University in London I opted for Southampton to get away from London. From University I used to pop down to London every so often to play football for my Saturday club. I had not heard from Shola for a while.
‘Did you hear?’ said Ahmed, ‘hear what?’ ‘….about Shola’ he continued ‘he is dead, he was found in a river in Tottenham! ‘.. ‘……’ ‘…..’ ‘……’ ‘Nah’ I responded ‘Shola lives on Campus at Brunel Uni. ‘you should call him maybe it is just a rumour’ he said .. ‘I’ll do that.. he can’t be dead’ i said
That evening I called his house.. A young woman answered the phone. ‘I am sorry to disturb you.. but some news has got to me and I need to make sure that it is not true.’ ‘You heard that Shola is dead right?’, she said. ‘Yeah, who is spr….’. I continued. ‘He is dead’… ‘…….’ ‘…….’ ‘…….’ ‘…….’ ‘why??… I mean no.. how, when?!’
The conversation went on a for a while.. I learnt that he was found in a lake. He had drowned. How he got there and why he was even there was a mystery to the young woman I was talking to. When I told her my name she knew who I was despite me never talking. ‘so you are Kwame.. she said, Shola spoke about you all the time’.. you must come to his funeral. I found out that the woman I was talking to was Shola’s sister. I found it hard to imagine what Shola’s sister would look like.. Shola had a quite manly face. She asked me if I was from Ghana, I said ‘yes’.. she replied ‘oh’ I responded ‘yes oh’.. this is a joke between friendly Nigerians and Ghanaians.
Despite discussing such a sad subject she was still able to smile. what a strong young woman.
The day of the funeral came around quite fast. I remember I was in the shops the day before searching for a black shirt. The funeral was in Tottenham at a large church. I got there nice and early. The family was ushering and thanking people as they entered the church.
She looked so much like Shola it was amazing; she guessed who I was when i approached the church entrance. Her eyes were red as red apples, she was obvioulsy someone who had been crying and was fighting the urge not to cry again. Looking at her I saw Shola talking to me, just without the stutter and the baseball cap on backwards.
I sat down in the Church and recognised a few faces from College.. and strangely a few from school. I say strangely as I had no idea that Shola knew these people and I myself had not seen them for years. Gunyi, a fellow politics classmate and Christina from secondary school who was in class S. The ceremony started and people were invited to say a few words. Shola’s brother stood up first.. he must have been about 14 years old. Looked so much like Shola too. he talked about the inspiration shola gave.. going to college, playing football and just being the perfect brother. Shola’s brother didnt cry.
Next up was Shola’s sister, She stood up and thanked everybody and started reading from her pre prepared script. There was a rnb song being played in the back ground.. dammit!! I cannot I remember the song although I remember thinking that I want this song played at my funeral. She went on for two minutes.. and then her voice changed, she was trying to suppress the tears. By this time the tears were already streaming down my face.. I had stopped listening to her speech after the first minute and drifted into the moments me and Shola shared. There is a song that I listen to that always reminds me shola’s funeral. LINK INSERT. The lyrics are appropriate but explicit edited for blog:
understand, the game it be Kinda topsy turvy; you win some, you lose some
Damn, they lost a brother – they mother lost a son
Damn!, why my BROTHA couldn’t stay ALIVE?
I’m a thug, but I swear for three days I cried
I look in the sky and ask God why
Damn I miss you
Her voice had changed, she was no longer the young woman I had spoken to on the phone, she was no longer strong…. and then the downpour began. She bawled like nobody was watching, but we were; it didnt matter though as we were howling too. Her mum came up to to support her her nose runny and eyes as red as those red apples. My eyes were streaming too. Her mum took over the reading of the speech Shola’s sister had prepared. It praised his support, his strength; his positiveness his attitude.
With the speeches over people were invited to the coffin to pay their last respects. This was something I couldnt do. I looked to my left and Gunyi was wiping his eyes. he got up and paid his respects to the coffin.. I couldnt do it.. I couldnt.. it would haunt me. Those who know me know I have no belief.. but I prayed that day, my last prayer. If anyone was listening.. I asked them to watch this family.
The funeral was eventful, many hymns were sung. When all was finished I made my exit. Just as at the start, the family were there to thank everyone. Shola’s sis talked to me for a bit. She thanked me for coming all the way down from Southampton to attend and that he would have been grateful. She didnt need to have told me that.. I knew. Shola was my best friend.
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Sasha asked me once who my best friend was and I responded that I did not have one. If you were to ask my dad the same question he would answer the same as me. I guess it is in my … Continue reading
This true story always bring a smile to my face when I think back. This took place in year 11 in one of our physical education classes. We were being coached to play football for our upcoming match against Warwick School.
All the stars and amateurs of year 11 were assembled for the picking of the team, The coach shouted out some random numbers at people and then asked all those who were given odd numbers to stand to one side and all evens on the other side.
I surveyed the team I was on, not too bad.. we had Kamal the goalkeeper at least. Daniel Hayden was on our team.. possibly the strongest boy in our school but for for a game of football that was not much use. We had the other Daniel in our team too, Daniel Smith, the school joker – good with the technical skills but no end product. At least we had Luis, my school twin (same age exactly) and bestfriend. He had awesome skills and vision, just lacked pace and was often too greedy on the ball. My team could have been worse I thought as I looked around. They nominated me captain and the coach gave us positions.. I was to play in midfield. I looked across at our opposition and conceded defeat before the game even started so did the rest of my team from the looks on their faces and the groans they were emiting in unison.
They had the all stars on their side. Little gary THE goalkeeper of the school. Tyrone, the best player in school; Garfield the second best player in school. Peter and George, fellow portuguese study pals, two of the best from 11W. There were more heroes in their team.
The Coach blew the whistle it was time to begin. The allstar team kicked off and pretty much took control. The coach bellowed out just as Tyrone let rip with a belter past our uninspired goalkeeper Kamal, ‘goals only count if they have been volleyed in’. Phew! the score was still 0-0.
Each half was split between 15 mins. For the first half we were able to contain the giants. During our first half break our team was motivated. To score a volley past us required more time to raise the ball or control it than what we were giving them. We agreed to keep it up for the second half.. we had not managed a single shot on their goal.
The giants/allstars/oter team, however you want to imagine them, kicked of for the second half.. they had a plan I could see it.. why was Tyrone running so far forward and why were they running with the ball back into their own half. That was the plan.. make our players chase the ball while Tyrone found space in our half ready to recieve the ball with all the time he needed to volley.
There it was I could see it, Peter passed the ball to Garfield who then laid an inch perfect pass to the unmarked Tyrone. I had seen the plan but with the fluidity of their play I was powerless to stop it. Tyrone caught the ball expertly on his chest, cushioning and turning the ball to face our keeper in one movement with the catch. He arched his back and let loose the perfect volley. Our now slightly motivated goalie made no attempt to stop it; it would have been futile anyway.
The score was 1-0 to them. The confidence my team had had was drawn out of them. The oppositions captain was now telling everyone to stay back and defend after scoring they had no need ot push forward. We restarted the game and immediately Daniel Hayden blasted the ball direct towards goal. If it had gone in it would not have counted but, I am guessing for Gary’s integrity a clean sheet is a clean sheet, the goalkeeper pushed the ball over the top for a corner.
Daniel Smith took the corner which Luis caught on his head – Should not have used his head as that was no a volley. Regardless the keeper was equal to it and parried the shot. The ball dropped to me just infront of the goal. The ball bounced and I caught it on the second bounce with a sidefoot into the goal. GOOOOOOaaaaaal we had equalised. The coach listened to the other team for a bit who were complaing that it was a half volley. I argued back, the ball was in the air when I hit it and that is a half volley or not.
The score was 1-1 , ten minutes were left to play of the half. As we were playing I looked acros to the school building to see that nearly all the windows were filled with spectators who should have been studying. We were holding our own against the best and this was something worth seeing it seemed.
2 minutes were left to play and I had the ball trying to find space. All of a sudden the coach said ‘you can score anyway you like now and next goal wins’. I shouted out to Luis ‘one-two’. I played the ball to Luis and ran past a couple of defenders while he played the ball deftly over them and back to me with one touch. Perfect.. There were 5 people in front of me now and this included Peter and George, even with my pace I was not going to outrun them. Garfield and Tyrone had maintained their places waiting for the ball in our half ready to use their skills to obliterate us the moment they got the ball.
This scene plays in my head all the time I think about when I was an avid player of soccer/football. The ball was with me and it was me against five, two minutes to go and the next goal regardles how scored won the game. I played the ball to my right foot and feinted a shot towards goal (I was now just out side the box). The defenders jumped in front of me to block the shot that never arrived. Instead of shooting I had played the ball to my left foot and was about to shoot when I saw that not all the defnders had jumped at my first shot. I feinted again this time all of them jumped! The ball was back at my right foot and my target was in sight. I let rip with what was afterwards known in folk tales and legends as a ‘golden wonder’; (all defenders were still in the air from my earlier feint.)
The ball seemed to take forever to reach its destination, it was fizzing and whizzing as if it were a punctured balloon. Gary watched it as it approached him, and he watched as it flew past him into the back of the net. I knew it was in before Gary did and I was already off celebrating before the coach blew the whistle for game over. Garfield accepted defeat with a smile. Tyrone ran to get the ball to restart the game. I shouted at my team to walk off the pitch. Tyrone blasted the ball into an empty net to no avail. Peter and George and a few others ran to the coach to complain that my shot was not a volley. The coach waved them off. From the school building I could hear scuffled chants of my name being shouted.
With my own team we ran around celebrating, although this was a friendly training match we had won ourselves bragging rights for a very long time. We had beaten the allstars. Daniel Hayden came to me and said that was the first time he had been on the winning team during these training game and then he dutifully picked me up causing the team to gather around.
Back in the changing rooms we bragged.. 2-1 Champions. The losers countered that they would have beaten us had it not been about the volleys. We replied.. but it was about the volleys! Kamal was congratulated for keeping a cleanish sheet.
Soon after this the football team of 11L broke up, but that is another story.
Posted in School Life
The diaries of a black traveller 