Weekend Review

Friday and Saturday, I was on location from 6am - 6pm on an independent short film entitled Raymond & Lina (Working Title). This time, I was the Assistant Director (AD) which for a very limited budget flick meant that I was a cross between Assistant Director (note not assistant to the director)/ production assistant/ location manager/assistant camera/ art director/ and whatever else was needed. Granted, the very small crew did pitch in and help each other out anyway that was needed.
It was really fun and tasking. The kind of stress that I like because you are constantly having to think and creatively too. For example, for about two weeks, we had been looking for a grocery store to shoot in. Well, in the United States, most grocery stores are part of a huge chain and any and all permissions have to go through their corporate office which means endless calls during which you get rerouted through a series of automated answering machines and office workers who either do not have any comprehension of what you mean when you say that you need a location release to allow a small crew of less than ten to come in and shoot for forty five minutes in the feminine produce aisle. This search and process, the tireless producer and myself had to do for over a week only for us to get responses weeks later from secretaries telling us that their bosses say that they needed a week to have been able to make a decision...the same week that we had given them anyways; but I digress.
So, we find this old store called Sniders in Silver Spring; a small Jewish owned food place and we are given an answer in less than twenty four hours but with the stipulation that we start filming at 7am on Saturday morning before their customers start to arrive at 8 am. We say, "No problem" and set a call time for 6.45 am. We drag the entire crew over to the location, the manager and staff welcome us into the space graciously, we unpack equipment and gear, head inside, ask for the feminine products aisle and are informed with the same gracious smile that unfortunately, there isn't one. There is also no aisle with paper products e.g. coloring books, pencils, crayons, pens etc. For a scene that requires the lead male to go shopping for his granddaughter whom he suddenly has to take custody off, we NEED these two aisles

But, never fear, we have a team of creative people. The DP (Director of Photography) switches to a close up lens. The manager of the store goes to his office and brings out stacks of phone books, we raid all the cars for old magazines, empty a portion of an aisle where cooking utensils are being shot and change the entire shot to a close up. This is for Scene II where the lead picks up coloring materials for his granddaughter. Luckily, we had purchased a coloring book as a prop to be used in a later scene, so we just placed it on the stack of phone books, making it look like there were hundreds of coloring books and went ahead.

For the scene with the feminine products, it was supposed to be that the grandfather would come across two teenage girls trying to buys some pads and tampons serving as a preview of the years to come as his granddaughter is now only eight. He would be a bit freaked out and exit the aisle quickly. We had no feminine products aisle but we had cleaning supplies, like tissues, kleenex and some other products. So the DP, looses focus on the items, tightens the shot on the two teenage girls and their conversation, someone produces us two packs of pads, we decide on close ups of the grandfather's face as opposed to a more wide shot of him fleeing and we are done.

Took us over an hour cos we originally had to figure out a way around the issue. But it was fun. We were all happy and we all helped in one way or the other. I also served as an "extra wrangler" because when we started some people had come into the store to shop and naturally where curious so myself and one of the key grips had to make sure that if they walked past on camera, they did not stop to look in. Or suddenly appear on frame. That way, they would not have had to sign a talent release form, allowing us use of their image.

This was just on one location.

We had ten location changes and more than fifteen scenes and forty different shots.

What did you do this past weekend?

Vacay: like a Bigz Girls

picture from here

I have never liked or admired any one single woman espoused to any of the leaders in my country. Having grown up in an academic household where my earliest memories include parents embroiled in heated debates with their co-academics over the future/demise of their beloved country, I just always viewed our leaders and their wives/women as a bunch of poorly educated, thieving vagabonds who were ruining the possibilities of my country.
The first woman in a leadership position that I truly was fascinated by, besides my mother (ell actually, when i was younger I was more scared of her than anything else) was Winnie Mandela. This chick had to fight by herself for 27 while her husband was locked up for doing nothing more than ask to be treated like a human being on his own land. Yeah, the marriage broke up...bla, bla, bla but this chick was the original freedom/human rights gangsta that I was aware of.
picture from here
The next person was Hilary Clinton. By now, I was in my teens and trying to figure out how I was going to become a powerhouse in a culture extremely hostile to progressive thinking in a woman. This woman had academic credentials to make your head spin; political connections to make you disappear if she wanted and still managed to marry and have a kid. I thought to myself, "I can be either just as good as this woman or even better sef".
Even though, she royally pissed me off when she stood by her husband's side after the Lewinsky debacle ( cos I felt it was endorsing of philandering men and the notion that a woman is always supposed to forgive), I forgave her instantly when i realised her renegade thinking when the man endorsed the sege out of her presidential campaign. I was like, yeah man, that is how it's done...it became clear that with all their yanga, Americans were not ready for a woman to lead them but by the time that was blatantly apparent, her points and impact had been felt to the marrow. That is why some people in the republican party drank too much and thought, ah-ah, if Clinton is there, let's bring out Palin and that one just came and nakeded their yanshes and cost them the election.

Which was not a bad idea because it introduced to u...Aunty Michelle.picture from here

Now, I was like, gen-gen. See person...Educated, self accomplished, articulate, stylish and a very fit physique. Yes, she married the president but she has her own portfolio and two gorgeous little girls. I compared her to the former First Ladies', late Miriam Babangida, Miriam Abacha and the late Stella Obasanjo and could not find one thing I could hold in comparison as aspiring. And when Mrs. Yaradua made her "Obey your husband's ..." comment in 2009, I was done with Nigerian first ladies.

So why did I write this long post? Well, look at the first picture. Aunty Michelle is (or was in Italy; depending on when you read this post) on vacay. People are in arms cos she stayed in a luxury hotel, used the secret service etc on taxpayers money when the country is in a "recession" and looked amazing and luxurious doing it. While, I am a bit fatigued by all the vacations she has been having; I think this summer alone, the family has had four--I feel like, what is a Big Girl to do? She needs to rest her brain between meetings and campaigns and projects where she is trying to get American children off the obesity track. Also, she has two little girls who will not understand why they cannot go to Disney Land with their parents...

So, I say, carry go Aunty Michelle. Next time, abeg, take me with you...

picture from here
Though hate is such a strong word, I think I can safely say that I hate the word "whatever". Used inappropriately, it can come across like a flippant dismissal of what has just been said. Wars have been started over less....

Shuo: Kidnapping is the new armed robbery?

Sometimes, I just wonder the new low levels that crime can schlep to in my country. Kidnappings have now infiltrated out of the Niger Delta to other regions...

When will people understand that just because someone is driving a car does not mean that they stole the money to buy it

Just wondering...

picture from here
I have been wondering if African immigrants living in the US are classified as African-American. Most of people, I know, don't classify themselves as such. What is the politically correct term for someone who is first generation African, living in the United States?

Celso Fonseca makes my day so much better

Soap Carving

Apparently in Thailand, it is not enough for soap to smell good, it should look good as well. Check out these soap carvings...i just want to look at them all day long. They would make a lovely gift basket and no one would even question that it might be LUX or IMPERIAL LEATHER

New month...new outlook...new food

picture from here
I am an avid observer of things and one of the many issues that has consumed my brain functions over the time I have spent here in the US is why, unlike some other cultures, Nigerian food has not been elevated to the status of public patronage as say other African cuisines (Ethiopian) or Asian (Thai, japanese, korean, chinese, etc).
I came out with a few deductions.

1. Value
We Nigerians don't see the value in eating out, our own dishes. When you have a wife that will slave in the kitchen for hours to make you the food that you want, why would you go and spend $40.00 on the same thing. As a result, whenever anyone asks to sample Nigerian food, there are never any restaurants to take them to; you simply invite them over.
Unlike us, Ethiopian foods are a group effort. Portions are presented on a huge platter and expected to be shared. So also for most Asian cuisine that is built around the same concept. Also, remember in the case with most Asian urban areas, space is limited and for an apartment housing 15 people, cooking might not be a good idea, so they go outside. Hence, public eating. Hence, the growth of their restaurants.

2. Presentation.
Here, I move the Ethiopians out of the way and settle on the Asians. For them, presentation is as much a part of the dish as is the taste. I mean, there are generations of royal chefs whose jobs were to make the royal dining experience as much a visual spectacle as much one for the palate.
Nigerian food, not so much. The portions are bulky. Some move, some don't. We have not yet figured out a way to present our foods in a way that is comparative. Maybe because, we don't care. I have been taught to cook but i was not exactly taught how to arrange jollof rice on a plate to make it look like a mound of yellow surrounded a piece of meat. Part food arrangements are done more out of making sure the plate of food does not topple over.
Take a look at these fruit carvings from Thailand. Each one takes about two hours to complete


3.
Although, the picture at the top does look a bit like a design but you see where I am going with this

Consistency
This is both a good and bad thing. Because our style of cooking is a bit subjective, the outcome is not the same every single time. We don't employ thermometers, stop clocks and measuring bowls for the ingredients. We use a flick of the wrist and the eye of experience which can sometimes be off. Thus, we cannot guarantee that the dining experience will be the same. But that also means that if we blow your mind once, we can rock your world in another way.

I might be wrong...what says you?

On my mind

1. Wondering what is going to happen as deadlines loom around the corner, taunting me with their existence

2. Wondering why I have not been encouraged to stick to any work out regimen that I have started. I believe the reality is that I am not doing what I really want to do but what I can do...

3. Wondering how I became so addicted to sugar. Before I came to the US, I was perfectly fine to accompany all meals with water and now, I almost feel like I have to have a cold, sweet liquid with every meal; which means I am downing Soda all the time.
Not good, when you come from a lineage of diabetics.

4. Boys...or more specifically, men

5. Clothing and shoes....wondering about the cut of that jacket in that Korean Drama

6. Korean Dramas

7. My own stories....how to bring them to life

8. A new template for my blog. Will I have to re-save all the links on the right as I change over?

9. Time

10. A lack of it

11. An abundance of it doing stuff you don't want to do while there is stuff that you need to do but cannot do or are not doing

12. Silence

Kisses

Have a great weekend.

The right name

Every story has a title. It is its identity. It can be indicative of what the story is about or what the morale to be learned will be. It can also misdirect, letting the audience to believe that the story will go in a particular direction only to turn them on their ears and force a concept through.

I spend a considerable amount of time, giving titles to my stories. Like naming a baby, you feel you have to get it right. Not really realising that that child can grow up in future and be known by a pseudonym, a symbol or a nick name. No, you don't think that. You have to get right, get it perfect...

My latest film project: Score

A few months ago, I took a video production class where we were asked to each pitch an idea to the class with the best idea becoming the class project. I wrote SCORE, inspired by music from Jesse Chui and i got to direct it as part of the class project.

It is about a woman's relation ship with her piano.

Written & Directed by: Me
Produced & Edited by Ishu Krishna
The Advanced Video Production Class
Cast: Peggy Nichols
Torsten Spitzka
The Piano

Score from Ishu Krishna on Vimeo.

What I want right now...

Nights and Days: Summer Heat recaps

Stating that summer is here is quite redundant at the moment; the heat makes sure you never forget even if for certain periods, you may be ensconsced in the comfort of an air conditioned space. The heat lets you know that summer is here, barely clad women of varying shapes, sizes and fashion sense let you know summer is here and the movie theatre's constant line ups of comedies and exposion-heavy action flicks pander to the change in weather.

So that's why, I dragged myself to the movies. The last time I was there, I had earned myself a free film and with great flourish, I presented my coupon to the person at the ticket to redeem my prize only to be told in the LOUDEST of voices that my free ticket voucher was not valid for new releases; that I had to wait another two weeks to use it. I looked at the girl, looked at the long line of bored Caucasians watching me without looking at me, hisses inwardly and forked out the $8.00 to see Tom Cruise and Cameron Diaz in KNIGHT & DAY.

.

Now, I am not particularly a fan of Tom Cruise. I am always suspicious of an actor that is way too good looking and ALWAYS plays the GOOD GUY. And one cannot help but forget him trying out for Cirque Du Freak on Oprah's Couch. But I could not help watching him with a healthy dose of longing.

The man is fiiiiiiiiiiiinnnnneeeeeeee.

One more time: The man is finnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnneeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Haba!

I wonder what I would do if a man that looked like that suddenly thought the sun rose and set on my head. Would I even hear anything that comes out of his mouth, or would I be staring at him with my mouth agape and drooling.

I won't even be jealous if other women are staring because, let us face it, who wouldn't.

To me, he is just one of those people that make you marvel at God's Work. Like, a sunset of even a smiling, toothless infact. He is visually perfect.

The movie? That is another issue. I cannot even tell you what it was about because I zoned out too many times. There was no theme that I had not seen before, except maybe that Cameron Diaz was not a silly, clumsy chick all the time. There was one scene where she threw a punch and I was like, "Chineke!!!!"...cos that joint looked like it rearranged/damaged some brain cells on the guy.

That was how I spent one of my Summer Days. I will be keeping you posted.

Summer...the time for love....or just plain, blistering heat

It's 10:51 pm

...and I am a good thirty minutes walk from my apartment, having dragged my already weary bones out in search of a place to connect to free internet. I went to about four places, each of which was just closing and as a final resort, I walked into Tryst in Adams Morgan and plopped myself down on one of their soft couches, ordered an overpriced smoothie and spent almost twenty minutes trying to connect to their internet. My lovely vista laptop did not fail to disappoint...as usual, what everyone else was doing with ease was giving me drama. For the life of me, I could not connect.

So, I paid for the lousy smoothie..it was one of those healthy kinds that taste like laughter fled the kitchen...packed up my gear and trudged out once more into the warm DC night.

Went into a used book store... no show

walked into a Sake lounge...no show...shouldn't have since I was in flip flops and faded work out clothing...

Then, someone said to me "Try Cali Yogurt"

I had passed it by, not wanting to go in with my weakness for frozen yogurt but now, I was a bit desperate. I had alot of work to do, no internet connection at home and no clear time frame on when I could change that. In fact, it was an attempt to change that, that was pushing me online...so, i went in.

Purchased a 5 oz original recipe, with mango pieces as toppings....

Took a bite...

and felt like someone had knocked me back to Kaduna

Flashback Catwalq Moment: My mum used to travel to the north quite a bit and she would try to bring us fresh, sweet yogurt when she came back. Also, I had been in Kaduna at some point, attending an Eckankar seminar and spent most of the time, gouging myself on fresh northern yogurt...

Back to now: It's a taste you have to have had to know what I am talking about...that fresh yogurt taste...tangy and sweet...not the nonsense that Yoplait packages for you or Activia tries to scare you into buying by implying that you will be constantly constipated if you don't have it...no, I mean, fresh, sweet yogurt....topped with sweet, RIPE, mango...

I think I'll have another...

It's a Monday....

and I have had a fight, a meal and a worry. I am so in need of a vacay!!!!!!!!

I am in love

People, meet Ricardo Darin. Argentinean veteran actor starring in the award winning cinematic beauty, The Secret in Their Eyes. All I can say, is yes, Ben-hah-meen, I am yours...forget Irene.
Go see it and tell me what you think

Information

Food...

Picture from here

I am on a quest to kick my current dependence on food as a pick-me-up. I think there can be a healthy way of enjoying good cuisine without my gut hanging over my belt buckle. For once, I would like to reach for an item in my wardrobe and not worry of it will still pass over my man-like shoulders which always seem to be expanding at the rate of the current oil spill in the gulf...

The world through our eyes

picture from here
I was returning from a guilt-laden trip to Bed Bath & beyond where i had picked up a pack of my current addiction, Tazo Passion Tea when i saw something that both amused and humbled me at the same time.

A little girl of about four was walking with her mother through the mall and they go to the escalators. She panicked for a few seconds as she tried to understand how to place her foot on the first step without falling down as the steps, which would be considered a moving nuisance by some, moved on its automated way. She clutched at her mother, who took her hand in a vice like grip to stabilise her stance, lest she go flying. The little girl tried again, each time not quite so sure of her self. This all was just a couple of seconds but already a line was beginning to form and irritation was beginning to appear on the faces of those who could not seem to believe the audacity of a four year old who was confused and disoriented by an escalator. Finally, her mother sensing that the lesson on overcoming her fear of moving objects would have to wait another time, lifted her in one fell swoop and carried her the rest of the way. And the little girl, held on to her mother for dear life. But she did not take her eyes off the escalator steps.

I imagined what they looked like to her; or what the world looked like either.

It took me back years when I hated sitting in my mother's mazda because it was a small car. Then, we lived in Benin City in Ugbowo Estate, which was across from the University of Benin, an illustrious institution whose front gates were some kind of automobile depot because all kinds of cars were either zooming past, turning in or parked out there. Any time, my mother waited at the intersection to make a turn into the campus, I would have small panic attacks because I was convinced that her car was so small and that people would not see us there. Or that the wind from speeding trucks would lift us into the air and into our next incarnations. Everything was huge and fast and crazy looking.

I pinch myself sometimes when I can cross a street in just a few strides because when I was little, I would run across, convinced that the road was so wide that I would not be able to reach the other side in time.

I remember sitting in my father's reading chair to measure how close to the floor, my feet were because that meant I was growing and that when I sit, my scrawny legs would not be poking over the edge.

When we are little, things are sometimes alarming and when I say little, I don't mean just your physical size, it can also be your outlook on life. When you feel like circumstances or experiences dwarf your abilities, you panic and flail and it all seems crazy. But there is always someone who has your hand. That someone (whoever you believe that to be), waits a it to see if you have the hang of it and if you do, you triumph and move on and if you don't, that person lifts you up over the issue; with the knowledge that you will still have to learn your lesson but next time, hopefully you will have other experiences under your belt that the speed of an escalator would be minute in comparison.

Take the time, to appreciate how far you have come. Remember, there was once a time, when you were no larger than a loaf of bread....but look at you now....

Feriado...

This song has been on constant replay for two days straight because this is how I am feeling....

Reel Speak: Human- Alien conflict

picture from here.

As a developing filmmaker, I do find myself in conversations with other creative minds on the content that is either out there, or presenting itself. One such conversation that I had recently was on this recurrent theme when it comes to aliens in western movies.


Anytime there is a non-human presence, two things seem to be the only option that the writers can fathom: 1)the aliens are weak, broken, fleeing catastrophe and stumble on earth. we initially declare them enemies and then we realise that there is no need to and so we figure out a way to send them on their way before some mad scientist/government group tries to experiment on them. Then we congratulate our humanity for having gotten "rid" of the "foreigners" in a "humane" way. Or
2) They have come to invade and humankind is in a race against time to save itself from the invasion of the heartless, exploitative inhuman invaders.

The two lines of thought do make for interesting projects as seen over the years with the many blockbuster hits that line DVD shelves. For once however, can someone imagine a scenario where the aliens are not even remotely interested in us; that they were "passing by" and then stopped to "find out" what we were. Then, having dsicerned that well, we were just another lifeform entitled to its existence, they went on with their busy day.

The human consciousness tends to imagine that humans are the most important thing there are; assuming that humans were created to dominate all other things out there. It is arrogant to imagine that an entire solar system was created so "we" could explore and colonise for our use and advancement; such is the motivation behind explorations to Mars where scientists argue that it could be an alternate habitat for humans after we screw up the earth.

It will be so interesting to see the ass whooping that will come about when humans land on mars, having assumed that nothing lived there only to find that its inhabitants are possibly not in forms visible to the naked, human eye but more on a subconscious, psycho-spiritual level.

Don't you think that might make an amazing script instead of the "War of The Worlds"/ "V" scenarios?

This is how I am feeling today...

@ Crumbs and Coffee

tud

One the few times that I have gone to a cafe seeking free internet, I have always chosen a seat where I can either observe whoever comes into the space or whoever is passing by. This is partly because I am very adverse to having my back to people; must stem from a past life experience or something of being stabbed or something or maybe even the fact that I always have my earphones in and will jump if you touch me. In any case, I love to sit and watch people.

I am kind of an oddity. Work well with crowds but always feel like I am on the outside looking in. Part introvert. Part extrovert. Talk alot but very careful that I say only what I want you to hear. Been called weird but I choose the term "eccentric".



So I sit and watch people, imaginging where they are coming from, going to or thinking. I look at what they wear and craft stories around what I see. The human being is such a fascinating thing to study because it lives within its own consciousness and thus its perception of the world around it is as varied as there are grains of sand on this earth. Yes, sometimes, these views intercept and there is a collective consciousness about the same thing; think, a family, a community, a people or a nation. Still each one is unique and powerful.

Just one of the many things I think about sitting in the window of Adams Morgan's "Crumbs & Coffee" looking out on 18th street and hoping that my sitting stance is lady like and not the reason this homeless guy keeps waving at me.

Come out and get your read on...

The Farafina Trust Creative Writing Worshop ends with a literary evening on May 29th at the Civic Centre, Ozumba Mbadiwe, Victoria Island, Lagos.

Time is 3pm.

The event will be featuring readings by Chika Unigwe, author of The Phoenix; South African writer Niq Mhlongo, author of Dog Eat Dog; Ghanian author and playwright, Ama Ata Aidoo; Caine Prize winner, Bard Fellow and director of the Chinua Achebe Centre for African Writers and Artists, Binyavanga Wainaina and a host of others.

Admission to the event is free.

Casting Call

Immediate Casting Call for comedic short.

One Male (20-24), race undefined.
One female (20-24), race: Black/african or Asian.

Unpaid. Send in headshots, CV and availability to baniproductions@gmail.com.

Seriously Speaking

I had the chance a couple months ago, to interview rising Asian American band, Seriously. Two months and alot of wahala later, I finished the edit, all by myself and here it is.
Go to to the site to comment and vote it up. maybe I will make it on TV...

The Fight for Freedom

When I first heard the story of Lisa Ling and her colleague were being held on suspicion of espionage by the North Korean government after they were spotted filming an investigative news feature on the border of Korea and China, I wondered aloud what would possess them to go so far into dangerous territory. Yes, I admire the courage that is necessary when one quests for the truth but I likened it to the two women wandering naively into Hitler's territory thinking that they would not be arrested by the Gestapo.

I was even more intrigued by the media storm and its amazing climax when the former president of the United States, President Bill Clinton had to personally go to north Korea to secure their release. By then, the two women had been put on a hasty trial, found guilty and sentences to twelve years imprisonment. For standing on the wrong soil.

It made me wonder if at all, any Nigerian had ever been in the same situation, seeking some diplomatic intervention and if at all anything had been done. I have no grand illusions of our ambassadors' abilities to help Nigerian citizens; as we all know, most of those who are imprisoned abroad, really did get in trouble.

Still, I was, as I have been many times, fascinated by the American consciousness where thousands worked tirelessly to secure the release of the two women and get them home. Would it not be nice to know that your people love you no matter what? And would fight for you?

They are so busy fighting each other for themselves.....

One of the reasons I might move to Cali

It seems all the creative minds that I would like to work with are there....

ILLEGAL - 2007 Tribeca Film Festival from Andrew Oh on Vimeo.

Alone in a Crowd

Picture from here

It is so easy not to be seen. Even when you walk right in front of their eyes, stand by their side, reach for the same cellophane wrapped plastic spoon to stir the very same scalding building liquid they have purchased for their daily morning cafeine fix. It is so easy that it is alarming.

You don't have to put in much effort, you know. To disappear. makes one wonder: If I leave, who would care?

It is so easy not to make a sound. Even when your lips are moving and words are tumbling out at the speed of a torrential rain's downpour. Even when you exhaust countless cellphone minutes on calls to nowhere about nothing. Even when the words merge into a hollow scream. It is so easy that it is alarming.

You don't have to put in much effort, you know. To disappear. makes one wonder: If I leave, who would care?

It is so easy to be forgotten. Even when your history reads like the inside of a novel. Even when the pictures cataloguing the memories fill albums, one after countless other. Even when your names are carved with a crooked knife in the stained concrete steps outside of the old buildings that you stood infront of. It is so easy that it is alarming.

You did not put in much effort, know. So I think you should disappear. Makes me wonder. If you leave, would I still care?

What next

I have had a nickname for years as a result of my hair. It is....Bumbum Poullet. That is, the back end of a chicken. As in, the hair on my head is so thin and feathery that it resembles the hair on the butt of a chicken. For the most part, I have learned to live with it. In my childhood, I looked on in silent, grieving envy as classmates showed up to class on Monday sporting the weekly hairstyle. I said nothing when my "suku" (cornrows in a bun) did not quite make it into the scrunchie or when my "kolese" (cornrows facing forward) never fell over my face and instead stood like a row of pimples on my shiny forehead. I endured it all because I knew my time would come.

For it had been written that once I graduated from secondary school, I would be allowed to whatever I wanted with my hair. I could put in a perm, extensions, straw, sand or anything that I wanted to make up for my lack of natural, thick, fast growing tresses.

And for the most part I did. Had so much fun. Thought I was the sexiest thing ever.

Then I moved to the United States.

And doing my hair was the same cost as some kid's school fees...

So i tried to learn to perm my hair myself. Lost 1/3 of it.

Then I got a friend to braid it. Lost 1/3 of it.

Got a professional to braid it. Got some of it back

Put in extensions with glue. Lost 1/2 of it again.

Then I cut it all off. So lost most of it.

It grew and I permed it back.

Then I put in a few weaves... the whole front of my hair left me when I took the weaves out.

Put in braids....

And now they must come off.

I am now faced with a few scenarios:

As I have not permed my hair in donkey months, most of it is back to its natural stat. However, I have no hair line. At this rate, I can join the Balogun Market chapter of Lagos Market women and fit right in with my hair line that starts from the center of my brain.

So,

Should I take out my braids, perm my hair and cut it into a style so there is no weight on the front of my head?

Put in another round of braids...pick-and-drop with curls

or a full head of weave...so i don't have to put in any more chemicals and I can just keep my head natural.

The costs vary, the out come varies...but the hair remains poullet-esque.

I have been eyeing the Victoria Beckham cut for a while...

What say you, my dear friend?

Looking at my watch

11:44 pm/ Tuesday/ May 11:
Contemplating whether to eat something. Don't want to be hungry in the morning. No snacks. Should really stop eating at odd hours... have a paper to write. Let me get my supporting materials out. I need to work out. Should stop by Payless and try to get a pair of cheap sneakers. Payless has become Paymore...silly people...the shoes will not even last beyond Summer so why are they being so expensive. That is the whole point of shopping there...or maybe I should just invest and go to Foot Locker...I should open my own Foot Locker...it is at moments like this that I miss Tejuosho Market and the wonderful options that our Aba based creators provide...maybe I should eat something....

Baby Steps

I have been anticipating the wide release date of this documentary, "Babies" with mixed feelings. On one hand, I cannot wait to see what the director was able to capture in almost two years of following four children from diverse backgrounds from around the world from their delivery till when they took their first steps.


On the other hand, I was a bit miffed that the African baby that was chosen came from the mud deserts of Namibia and thus enforces the stereotype of how people live in Africa.
I have watched a few interviews with the documentary filmmaker and there does not seem to be any malice or preconceived notions on his part...and so far, I have not heard anything stereotypical from the interviewers (if that is a word). When I can, I will go see it, how about you?

No words...

What is there to say?
Nothing.
What about you?

Use Your Bed Nets. Keep Mosquitoes out.

PSA I shot and directed for the Remi Caxton-Naibi Foundation as part of their Malaria prevention initiative to coincide with World Malaria Day.
The first one, I edited myself.
The second one was done by a professional. Support the initiative.
Use Your Bed Nets. Keep Mosquitoes out.

RemiFoundation.org from stoiQa on Vimeo.

When it is your turn

So, people who know me, know that I have had some choice words about the general level of ignorance that I tend to find among Americans about what goes on outside of their boarders. Almost everyone who is not white has stories a dime a dozen about some stupid thing that was said to them regarding their ethnicity.



I mean for Asians, they get the chin-chun-why-r-ur-eyes-so-small-u-eat-dogs-r-u-all-good-at-math, or that they are all Chinese. For Africans, we get the inquiries about war, poverty, disease and whether or not we have wildlife game reserves in our backyards and we swing Tarzan-style on our way to school. Middle eastern people have to answer about Islam and terrorism. I am not sure what South Americans get but I am sure it would go along the lines of Tacos and Immigration issues. In any case, we get them all the time, roll our eyes and retreat behind our walls of derision and self importance, imagining that we ourselves would never make such a mistake.




And we mostly never do.
Or at least, I don't.
I am quite geographically enlightened.

Which is why, I was stunned to hear myself asking a colleague at work if Panama was close to the Philippines....







And I was serious too


Even more amazing was that for a good minute, in the world map I had drawn in my head, Phillipines was somewhere next to Mexico and Brazil. How that was working out in there is probably a research topic for another day but I could not believe that I could be so clueless and then so vocal about it.







I mean, I was at a table full of superiors....
Aargh, I guess I had to learn a lesson on compassion and respect.


People will always ask stupid questions. And if they do so of you, reply politely with the correct answer and thank your stars that you did not make the mistake and that you knew the answer.


And FYI:
Panama is in Central America. Close To Costa Rica, you know at the bridge connecting North America and South America....

Phillipines is in Asia

And I am going to read a book

The time will come

There will come a time
When you will know my name
When you will know my touch
When you will know my taste
When you will know my smell
When you will know my sound
When you will know my feel
And when the time comes
It will be like you always did

Like there was no time before
Like there was no meeting
Like we just were
We just did
We are just being

There will come a time
When you will hold my hand
When you will feel my warmth
When you will start my laugh
When you will sing my song
When you will quiet my screams
When you will trigger my heart

And when the time comes
It will be like you always did

Like there was no time before
Like there was no meeting
Like we just were
We just did
We are just being

Till the time comes
I alone know your name
I know your age
I know your place
I know your scent
I know your face
I know
I know
I know
I know

Casting Call

Looking for 1 male/female (ages 8-10, with an African accent for an unpaid PSA shoot to benefit the Remi Caxton-Naibi foundation's drive to increase awareness on the use of bednets for the prevention of malaria. The shoot is to take place this weekend April 17th 2010.

Please forward resume, head shot and contact to ebaraje@gmail.com for consideration.

G-40 Summit

Did the best I could with a dicy situation and footage...

I survived...flash back...join me in twenty minutes

Co-hosting this morning:

Here's the direct link to the show we're doing: http://www.blogtalkradio.com/verastic/2010/04/10/i-survived

To participate, you can do so in three ways:

1. Call in - 1.646.929.1905

2. E-mail your comments: radio@verastic.com

3. Text your comments: 1.443.934.9039

There is a live, interactive chat room during the show (but you'll have to become members of blog talk radio (which is free by the way) to chat.

See you guys soon

The W: A lesson on human discontent

With lighting and decor more suited to the set of the vampire guilty pleasure HBO series, True Blood, downtown Minneapolis' The W @ the Foshay was like an unabashed seduction of the senses. Its owners wanted you the visitor to feel very specific things: decadence, opulence, indulgence and if you so dared, your wildest fantasies come to life. For me, my first reaction was, how could I have been coming to Minneapolis for the past four years and not known that such a hotel exists.

Because you see, every time I did visit Minneapolis for the bi annual Eckankar seminar, my movements were restricted to the Hilton on Marquette Avenue, the ingenious skywalk that protected me from the city's unforgiving harsh weather and the convention center where most of the events would be held. Somehow, and maybe because I never inquired, I never heard about the W or knew that it was just a block away.

I was to share accomodations with friends--a good way to cut down costs--for three nights but because none of us could get ourselves and finances together on time, we booked a bit late, the result of which was that we were able to get two nights in our old faithful seminar hotel, The Hilton and one night at the W. None of us had heard about the W and we were just grateful that we were able to get a room at a very discounted price, last minute.

Our room's statement of purpose was clear: This is not where you bring your kids. This is not even where you come to relax. You come here to indulge. From state-of-the-art slate grey tiles and shower heads that moved by sensors, to a bathroom walls that would make the dedicated voyeur weep with pleasure, walls blackened for effect and every technological gadget you can think of. We spent almost an hour, just messing with the stuff. Anyone watching us would not know that between us three, was medical degree, an engineering degree and an architecture degree. Even the faucets came with a manual. And to drive home the point that the hotel was not for the "good" boys and girls, we had a bar stocked with the most number of alcohol brands I had ever seen outside of a liquor store.

All the time we had been coming, we had always been happy to stay at the Hilton. It was convenient and it was quite nice but two minutes into the lobby and we began calculating how we could afford the next trip and this time stay at The W, the entire weekend. When we had to check in to the Hilton, the next day, we did so with a sigh, nitpicking at everything in our room. That was when we noticed holes in the curtains or that there were some lumps in the mattress. Or that the soap provided for us to wash our hands had no exotic scent.

In short, The W had stripped The Hilton naked and spanked it public....and from the way The W was designed, I am sure it liked to do just that.

I was just tickled by the fact that before this, if you had asked me the best place to stay, I would have been singing the Hilton's praises even before you finished your question. I still like the Hilton, but now I want the Foshay. Talk about discontent....sigh.

What are you lusting after now and pushing to the back burner in other to have it?

Boston and Seriously the band

Went to Boston over the weekend and fell in love with the city....from the interior of a taxi cab. I was in town to interview one of my favourite bands ever--and I don't listen to bands at all--the amazing, Seriously The Band. Yes, that is their name: Seriously the Band.

I was able to sit down with Chris Pham (lead vocals), Joshua Baek (electric guitar), Nathan Park (bass guitar) and Philip Park (drums and viola) and even got to hang out with them albeit for a very short time spent walking briskly through the cold with them trying to help me keep up as I labored over cobbled stones in heels.

I did get to visit the Quincy market. It's this huge food court that looks like it has been around for the better part of a century but was surprisingly, as I was told by one of the vendors, only about a quarter of a century old.

Bumped into an African woman who came to speak to me just because of my hair. I have on braids, done by a Nigerian friend of mine and you know we braid, THE RIGHT WAY. She was crestfallen, when I told her that I was not from Boston and that my friend was not in the area to do her hair for her...there is always a market for people who can do hair for black people in cities where the whites are the majority.

I visited the Northeastern University Campus and was so blown away by the facilities. Even though it was unfair, I could not help but compare it to Howard University, my alma mater and for the first time in a long time, I was hungry to be back in school, learning something. And the count down to grad school begins....or not.

It was too cold for me to really explore and my friend and I are thinking of going back in the summer when the winter has been completely chased away and we can go around and be shameless tourists....

Had fun...even though I was battling some trepidation over some personal issues. Nonetheless, it was a nice quick trip, one that I will take again.

How was your weekend?

Pride comes before a fall

picture from here

In two consecutive years, I had roommates while in College that made me constantly mad because our personal levels of hygiene were on different scales. One came from a home where I assumed she did not have to do any housework and so was unaccustomed to cleaning up after herself and the one after that, spent more time in malls and on her make up than she did, keeping herself clean. The irony on the second roommate was that she was most sought after by alot of guys and I always wondered how they were never deterred by the fact that to get into her room, they had to mount the summit that was her dirty clothes. We never fought, but I always harbored resentment that I was constantly having to clean the bathroom of hair and make up powder.

The make up was the most annoying thing for me. She had every conceivable beauty product from every major brand --infact, she had a book that showed how to create different looks in numbered products, brushes and applicators, of which she had them all. Every morning was an unbreakable regiment of curling hair weaves and face paint. And the staining of my counter to a dirty, disgusting brown. She used powdered and liquid foundations that dripped and splattered, brushes that shed all over the place, swabs that were always laying around, eyeshadow palettes that were always falling out of their holders, hair brushes that had more hair sticking out of them than glued to her scalp where they ought to be and so many other things that I had no idea the nature of their purpose.

I remember saying to myself, "I can never be like this".

Flash forward to today. My bathroom, though not as dirty is littered with the makeup brands that I can afford. And what else? The fallen powders of my foundations. I now have the same disorderly space. In the morning, I am in a hurry and don't have time to clean up after myself so I leave everything lying around: curling irons, make up brushes, tubes, lotions, lipsticks, perfume, combs/ brushes, pins and whatever I need to make myself feel pretty and presentable for my day. My bathroom has been destroyed by my own daily regimen.

I wish I had not been so quik to criticize her. I do however keep my bathroom as clean as I can. Everything gets washed and wiped down every other day with industrial strength disinfectant wipes and I have two huge make up bags to throw everything in but I can't help hearing my own voice in my head on those days when I come in from a long day out to see that in my haste to leave hours earlier, I left everything out and about...

You have the same experience? Is there something that you used to chide someone about that you, yourself now do?

Casting Call in DC/MD/VA

OPEN CASTING CALL

SCORE (A SINGLE-SCENE SCRIPT)

We are holding an open casting call for a film short. We are looking for the principle characters below. This is a DC locality shoot requiring local talent. Shooting will occur the week following the audition and requires a minimal amount of time.

WHO: 1 female between the ages of 22 and 35; must be a proficient keyboard player

1 male between the ages of 22 and 35

WHAT: Auditions for a 5-7 minute short film

WHERE: Arlington, Virginia

WHEN: Tuesday, March 23, 2010, 7:00 – 8:30 PM

All who audition are expected to perform a brief monologue as well as a scene from the script. The script is based heavily upon non-dialog facial expression. Female role requires piano playing proficiency. Reviewers will include a panel of members from the production team. All audition performances will be filmed and interviewed by the panel.

If you are interested in auditioning, please contact me using the information below. We will send you the audition script, as well as additional information upon confirmation of your interest. Only submissions that include both CV/resume and headshot will be considered.

This is an unpaid production. All participants will receive film credits.

Contact Information:

Sandra Hope: shope4life@gmail.com (include “SCORE AUDITION” in the subject heading)

1. The rains have come and with them a shroud of grey. The winter chill is still here, holding on valiantly to its reign over us, unwilling to let the spring in but we all know it is a pointless fight. The seasons change. Always. And Spring comes around.

2. Watched my bi monthly dosage of Indian movies. Have two new songs to add to my ipod. See here and here

3. Catching up on my Korean dramas and I think I might like the show "Pasta". My baby daddy, Alex Chu
is in it and so is my former baby daddy, Lee Sun Gyun, whom I had to give up cos he went and got himself married. No worries, Alex currently fulfills my fantasies' desires and I have taken up residence on his beautiful site.

4. Looking forward to the week ahead because I know it holds a lot of good for me. Good, that I hope will make me useful to others as well. Nothing as bad as being a waste of oxygen.

5. Determined to fit into a bikini this summer and have been working on it. I hurt all over and it is so not easy to loose all the weight you have gained systematically over five years.

Getting through the day

image from here
Everyday is a constant challenge to operate from a higher state of consciousness. Not once, twice or even three times I am unsettled by something and I have to consciously tell myself that it is all an illusion and that it will be okay; that the situation is nothing that I cannot control and master. Luckily, I have spiritual exercises at my disposal to help keep me centered and maintain focus on spiritual goals.

Sometimes things happen and my first reaction is to lash out. A few minutes later, I replay the scene and cringe because I could so much have handled the situation better. The less emotionally attached I get about things, I think, the clearer the purpose of the situation will be.

I find it interesting as I begin to take charge of my own life that these issues are coming up now. I guess Holy Spirit is in its way preparing me for the kinds of situations that are bound to arise as I embark upon the path that I have chosen. Better now, when there is room for learning from mistakes and when the consequences are not as dire than in the future when it is not just you but everyone associated with you that will be at stake.

With that in mind, I am going to try and practice some silence and quiet contemplation. Time to simply listen and not speak. Not over think...cos the mind is not always good. Just let it all be and let it all go

That's what I am doing to get through the day

Lexus VCAM Submission...you can view it now

Last month, I entered a contest for the Lexus VCAM challenge on Current TV. My team did not win but we were one of the twenty two finalists out of over a hundred submissions. Here is our submission. Please view it, vote and comment on the site or here if that is better....

When you make a mistake...

Every once in a while, I make a judgement call blunder and run around frantic and a bit panicked to try and resolvethe situation. The repercussions are always so dire that the alternative to just "chest" the situation and move on is too painful a thought. I have surrendered the situation to the Holy Spirit, inviting my Inner Master/ Guide to take control and help me resolve the situation before it escalates beyond what it is now.

I am trying really hard not to panic or inflate the scenario because the person who is holding me to ransome is holding all the cards and I would rather not not get legal or dramatic over the whole situation. I have also accepted that I made a huge mistake entrusting my project to someone I barely knew because I was trying to cut costs.

This is one of the things you have to be careful about when you are a filmmaker/producer on a very limited budget: Don't in a bid to save money do something stupid like leave HD footage of an interview you shot on location with a DP you met through Craigslist and who lives in another city when he will not pick up your calls or respond only in texts hours/days after you initially sent them.

Without my footage, I have nothing to show for a trip taken on borrowed/credit funds and I think he knows this and is banking on frustrating me into waiting until he is good and ready to do what he said he would do. I don't blame him, I blame me because had I not given him the upper hand, I would not be in this mess...

Still, I have given him till tomorrow to make things right. I have told him to put my hard drive with my footage in a box, FEDEX bound for DC from Houston since Saturday to arrive latest by tomorrow evening. I have left enough messages both voicemail, email and text for him not to pretend that there has been no communication between us--and if he says he did not get anyone of them, he has to change his provider because clearly there was no problem with him getting my messages in the beginning when I was to pay for the initial part of the service provided.

I have also prayed, inviting God to intervene because I don't want anymore drama. I know I will get my footage, the question is when? The longer I wait, the less material I have finished produced.

So, let me serve as a lesson to anyone out there:

1. Don't entrust anyone with originals of your creative work.

2. Always work away from a project with all the material that belong to you

3. If you need to collaborate with someone, go prepared, do what you agree to do and then leave with what you came with

4. Accept responsibility for any and all decisions you take

5. Expect the same amount of professionalism that you bring to the table

6. Don't incite confrontation but also don't be afraid to get tough. Cover your bases as much as possible.

7. It will blow over and you will look back in wonder.

Such has been the drama of my past two weeks...

Vlogging Nigeria

Does anyone know of any Nigerian/African vloggers? or Video Bloggers?

And links to their channels?

Thanks

My little big weekend

In pursuit of my film career, I went to Houston this weekend to shoot a small short; a place I had never been and was in danger in navigating alone as the only two friends that I had resident in the city, had plans to enjoy the Valentine's day weekend with their significant others; something I had overlooked as it had not applied to me in the longest time, if not never.

My weekend started early on Friday when I missed my connecting flight to Houston by a little under ten minutes. I was told I could no longer the board the plane. My aunt and I then went for a round of "Do-you-have-any-flights-to-Houston-no-we-don't" or "yes-we-do-for-like-next-year-and-for-a-one-way-trip-of-$600.00-and-$1200.00-for-the-return" from airline to airline. We found one for the next morning at 8 am at BWI International which meant that I had to be picked up by the airport shuttle at 4am.

The shuttle shows up at 5.45 am full of some very pissed of passengers who had apparently also been told that they would be picked up at 4 am for their 6.15 am flights. Now, for those who are not aware, the DC/MD/VA area had been blanketed by snow for over a week and almost all the roads were either impassable or quite dangerous to do so. The driver, probably stressed out of his mind proceeded to attempt to turn the blue van into a space shuttle and levitate the automobile by sheer effort of speed. I prayed to the airport man, gripping the seat infront of me and the poor guy seating to my right. If you are out there, kind sir, I am very sorry for the welts in your arm. I am sure, they will subside with ice.

After, I happily climbed out of the van, and dropped a kiss of gratitude on the wet pavement, I ran to catch my flight and then spent the next two hours watching a mother chase her toddler around the waiting room because, surprise, the flight was delayed. They started with the first lie that they were working on a "technical problem". I was buying that too. telling one particular cranky co-passenger, that I am sure he would prefer it not to happen that the wings of the plane fall off over some other eastern state and he had to climb out to fix it. Only for the yeye crew to show up like an hour later, indicating to me that they were never on the plane in the first place to even discover any "technical problems". If there had been any technical problems, it was with their malfunctioning wristwatches and alarm clocks. Msstssthw!!!!

Landed in Houston o and to get to my location, I had to rent a car. *Cue ominous background music* Those who know me, know I don't drive. I don't like to, I don't have a car and mostly don't have to. So, I need you to take a moment to visualise me on the Houston freeway, in a rental car, praying at the top of my lungs, my bladder threaten to give way and reduce my brideprice, my palms sweating so much, the liquid was pooling on my laps and me so terrified, it took a good thirty minutes after parking the car at my destination for me to stop shaking...

The shoot turned out amazing, I had fun and met some interesting people. I was also able to still connect with an old classmate and we nearly broke our ribs laughing our asses off at a movie theater, which I was astonished to find had restaurant style seating for the movie goers...talk about spoiled.

God loves me o...no doubt because he took me there, and brought me back. That was an alarming experience but a good one sha...my license was finally put to work and I neither caused any accidents, got into one or got a ticket. Yippee!!!!

So, I am off to the editing suite to get my piece ready for an upload...how was your weekend?

Since I last saw you

I attended a free screening of Nollywood Babylon at the National Museum for African Art where the Canadian director Ben Addelman presented a most insightful documentary film on the neurotic Nigerian film industry. Outside the venue, white teens begged for signatures for their campaign against Chevron, the event's official sponsor, for their actions in the Niger Delta region of the country. There were no Nigerians in the group, shivering in the cold and profering small postcards for the signatures they believed would illustrate a "public outcry". I signed one, marveled at the irony of the situation and went in to meet with the director.


Stumbled across this post on Solomonsydelle's blog and nearly had a coronary. In her recent installment of Talk To The Easier Crew, an open forum where individuals share their personal turmoils and invite advice and suggestions from commenters, we are presented with the story of a lady who walks in on her father sexually assaulting the hired help who is all of thirteen years old. Neither the father nor the victim see the lady and she runs off to her room, now claiming to be confused because she now does not know what to do. I say, she should have removed the little girl from the situation first.
Sexual abuse is so much a sordid part of our culture and I don't know what to do change this. What can we do to end sexual abuse within our society?

The snow has come to the DMV and in record amounts. We had a power outage in our development and everyone- and I mean everyone- fled because one of the downsides of a society where electricity runs 24/7 is that should that electricity fail, everything fails along with it. I would have been fine to feel my way around by candle light--something that we quite mastered in the Catwalq household where we don't have a generator-- but without heat in freezing temperature, it was impossible...and so, we joined the mass exodus, seeking solace and warmth with family friends whose power supply had thankfully been unaffected. We have since returned, waiting with bated breath for the forecasted blizzard about to blanket the region...

Contemplating buying the Brazillian butt lift system. The women in the ad look hot and there's this bikini that I have been eyeing and this beach that I am about to set on fire, this July...who is with me?

Been developing quite a few projects and soon, you guys will be enjoying them for the summer...

Please view and vote for my ad submission here

I am addicted to.....

My first kiss

I had my first kiss today.

It was cold and tasted of Fan Yogo.

It happened under the bele-ball tree behind our house.

He said, "everyone says you are my girl friend so I am going to kiss you, okay"

So I said yes.

Mummy said that your first kiss makes you tingly.

All I could feel were the ants climbing over my slippers and trying to run up my leg.

I tried to shake them off and kicked him.

He yelped and pushed me.

I fell hard on my bum.

It hurt.

So I cried.

He came and "begged" me.

Rubbing my head this way and that.

When I did not stop, he put his arm around me and sat on the leaves beside me.

The ants climbed all over him but he did not care.

Then, he bent his head and kissed me.

I stopped crying.

Then he gave me the rest of his Fan Yogo.

It had almost all melted.

Then he pulled me up and we played catcher-catcher all afternoon.

It was the best day ever.

Riding with Tamara

Two nights ago, while making my daily return home after work, I looked up from reading my very engrossing copy of author Ha Jin's "A Free Life", to realise that I was seated across the aisle from Tamara Tunie, the actress who plays the ME on Law & Order's Special Victims Unit (SVU).

There she was, sitting quite like any ordinary commuter, engrossed in conversation with her partner while I, tried not to break my neck from staring too long. Thankfully, she got off at my stop and I conered her, possibly freaking the poor woman out, for an autograph which she gave quite gracefully.
As I rode home, my autograph safely inscribed on to a page in my novel, as I had no other befitting material to produce for her to sign, I thought over the simple miracle that it was that she had ridden the metro. No, she might not be considered an A-lister but she could very well pay off all my bills without blinking and there she was, riding the same train as I.

It brought back to mind a conversation I had had with a blogger a while back on why I believed the social infrastructure in my country was not good. It was because, in my opinion, those who were responsible for its establishment and maintenance did not use it. It is only in Nigeria that the assistant to an assistant's assistant wants a chaffeur driven car and in most cases demands it.

Here, in DC, I ride the metro with Senators, teachers, bus drivers, students, tourists, children, thieves, fashion moguls, home makers and anyone else that needs to get around. No, the system is not perfect but compared to what is in my own country, it is beautiful. When something goes wrong, the backlash is heard from every level and what's more, it is acknowledged. Nigerian public transportation is the way it is because none of the commissioners use it.

When the board of directors for America's GM appeared before Senate early last year begging for a bailout, they were harshly criticised for having flown into DC on private planes and corporate jets. I am not sure if they did get what they were asking for when after being asked their mode of transportation into the city and their response was the above. In Nigeria, they would have arrived not only by private jets but in a loud and obnoxious convoy of overweight, barely intelligent entourages to collect money that would not be used in any way for what it was being requested for.

My dream is to be able to return to my home in Nigeria after a day's work at the studio, either riding my cream coloured moped or my bicycle with its rattan basket on the front; to be able to go walking or running in a park near my house and where necessary to show up at a location in Enugu, after a four/five hour train ride through the country from Lagos. I want to be able to catch the metro at Oshodi, and ride to the airport with my one overnight suitcase; to be able to drop my children of at the metro so they can ride to school too and pick them off in the evening when they are done. I don't need an SUV to carry me around because the public transportation would be comfortable, convenient and affordable. If I have a car, it will be a small one, for those days when I want to go exploring the city or when I have alot to carry around?

Is this too much to dream?

Well, riding with Tamara Tunie sure made me do so....

Help me in demanding that Yanni come to the MD/DC/VA area

View all Washington DC events on Eventful

Silent Scandal

What do you need if you are an accomplished and successful, female entrepreneur aspiring for a senatorial seat and a stake in politics? Well, according to Nigeria's yet to be published political etiquette manifesto, a husband if you are unmarried. It's not about whether or not you are experienced and capable to lead and execute the duties of your position; it's about the prefix to your name. That is just one of the many issues complicating Jessica Obi's life.

Her daughter is on a path to self destruction, she cannot seem to hold down a relationship, her coworkers and employees fear her rather than respect her and her driver has the guts to berate her on her personal life choices? What's a girl to do?

Well, this one makes a rash decision that plunges everyone around her into a complicated hot bed of scandal and is producer Vivian Ejike's latest offering from the editing suites of Purple Pine Productions. A nice upgrade from some of the watery fare, I have had to stomach in recent months, I am giving this movie my Catwalq nod of approval and recommending you go see it and tell me if you concur or not.

Yes, it has some technical hitches and some of the performances are quite unpolished, plus I found it hard to believe Genevieve as a mother of a nineteen year old (which I think I heard somewhere is not that far removed from the truth); however, it was very well done.

What did you think?

Happy Holidays

Prepare to greet a wonderful new year

SKIN

How do you define race? Is it by the colour of your skin, lineage or choice? Is it the shape of your nose or the colour of your gums? or is it by whether if stuck in your hair, and you shake your head, a pencil drops? Or if your backside potrudes a certain way? The answers to some of these were the deciding factors for whether, distinctively darker skinned Sandie Laing (played by Sophie Okonedo) would be classified the same as her white parents in heavily segregated Southern Africa of the fifties and sixties in the currently playing select theatre release SKIN

The stellar cast including Sam Neil, Alice Krige, Tony Kgoroge and the young Ella Ramangwane help present a true story that is both heartbreaking and enlightening. The movie presents a simple story of the complexities of human identities and how much discrimination and labelling damages souls.

In one painful scene, little Sandie in an attempt to be more white and thus, solve the racial problems reaping her family apart, applies undiluted industrial bleach to her skin. My heart broke in so many ways and it was like my own skin was on fire.

Go see it. It will afford you if anything, a chance to discuss identities. The issue the movie presents can be translated into every culture, for there is nowhere where the issue of skin colour, ethnicity/tribalism does not occur. The wars being fought now have this as their basis.

Go see it and come tell me, what is the colour of your skin? and what does that make you?

The mop