THE WATCHMAN
I love love to create things. I am extremely glad I have this platform to put up any creative or artistic vision. I put up this part of the blog because I love words. I love reading them, I love writing them, I love how they inspire, encourage, mould, educate or even make you yearn for that which is unknown. This my dear friend is my eternal affair with words.
THE WATCHMAN (PART ONE)
I love love to create things. I am extremely glad I have this platform to put up any creative or artistic vision. I put up this part of the blog because I love words. I love reading them, I love writing them, I love how they inspire, encourage, mould, educate or even make you yearn for that which is unknown. This my dear friend is my eternal affair with words. I love watching these characters come to life and paint a picture, a picture that you read in form of a story. I have so many stories. They come alive in words, so I will be sharing a few of those in the near future. Please share your thoughts and comments... Thanks guys xx
It’s howling outside as I sit down to type this words on my computer. The wind rustles, then moans as it passes through, loud, and soulful like the turbofan of a boeing 767. The wind, like my thoughts are churning over and over like processed gelato. I have this need to put down my thoughts on paper because I have been watching her for two months now. It started out as casual thing, the way one would look out the window lost in thought, or the way one would casually bite their nails, or that first nicotine inhalation. That first puff, it was everything. Something opened up in my lungs. world felt good, and I was good with the world. It became a habit. I read somewhere it takes 21 days to build a habit, later on, a researcher somewhere discovered that it actually takes 66 days. I must have seen that on twitter while waiting for the bus to go home.
I was chowing down my hastily microwaved left-overs when something must have made me look out my window. I can not tell you what it was exactly. It might have been the resplendent glow of her skin, a glow obtained from hours spent moving in the boxes, or the hot summer weather. I couldn’t see her face from where I stood, but I knew she was a beauty. Not the usual one magazine editors like to shove on our faces every month on their glossy spreads. No. This was a beauty whose flaws would be quite prominent, like a crooked tooth, or a slanted smile. A flaw that would stand out on it’s own. A beautiful flaw.
I turned away and stared at my room. then looked out again. She was on the opposite building, a floor below mine, giving me an acute birds eye view directly to her room. Three guys were helping her move things around. She must have said something to the guys because they all burst out into laughter. She beamed at them the way someone does when they laugh at your joke. I wanted to be part of that. Lately, there hasn't been any laughter in my life. It was a routine, staid life. Boring and complacent. A life I had resigned myself too. I felt something akin to jealousy. Looking at people with grins on their faces. I wanted in.
For the past couple of months, I have watched her talk, bite her nails, look out the window in a daze, squint at her computer screen. May be she needs glasses, all that squinting isn't healthy. I have seen her eat too, on her bed mostly. Lying down on her belly kicking her feet in the air while checking her phone. I wonder what she looks at. Is it her instagram or a funny video on youtube? I heard Snapchat is the business nowadays. It must be snapchat. The white light from her phone illuminating her face. I have watched her undress. Countless times, and before you start shaking your head and calling me names, I will honestly say that I am not a pervert. My mother raised me well. That she did. I do turn my head away briefly, to give her the privacy she would deserves. Ironical right? Privacy she deserves? Laughable, but as I said, I can't stop watching her.
I can tell you her favorite tshirt. It’s black in color, with a deep v, probably from HM mens. An old boyfriend's tee, or maybe she loves shopping at the men’s department. Definitely an old boyfriend, she seems to be the one to hold on to shirts. There might be a sentimental value to that. She wears the T with boy shorts . Those cute little shorts. I bless the man who invented those shorts and on behalf of all men, I say thank you. It was very cheeky of him. She likes to read alot. Books and magazines are always strewn on her bed like lazy cats waiting for their turn to be petted. And she does, read them I mean. Sometimes she would be on the phone, laughing, talking, very animated. Every emotion would be expressed on her face. A human emoji. I bet she wouldn't last the first round at a card’s table. She didn't know what a poker face was. It’s amazing how much you can learn from a person by observing them.
Today was just another ordinary day. One of those days that would have faded into the sky, unmarked, swallowed without a trace along with the rest. But it as fate would have it, I met her this afternoon. This alone is enough to put an X on today’s date, a day that I will remember fo all eternity. She was in her gym clothes flipping through her phone then she glanced up. We looked at each other, for a long strange moment, actually, like two animals meeting at twilight. Then she smiled. Lord that smile. It was as infectious as cholera….
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He has been watching me yet again……
TO BE CONTINUED
BROKEN RIBS
Someone once said grieving is like broken ribs, on the outside you look fine but with every breath, it hurts.
He was a well- respected man. Revered. Anyone who talked to him was in awe of him. He spoke with a quiet dignity. Softly but eloquently. He was very articulate and had an air of dignity about him. The kind of air that made you want to know more about him. His manners were as fine as cognac, as instinctive as breathing.
I met this man on a warm spring afternoon five years ago. It was an interview. He wanted to know a little bit about me. He had a very direct look, a look that made you want to tell him everything hoping that somehow, he would be able to resolve your issues or ailments, after all he was a doctor. He must have liked my affable personality since he hired me. I was to start my job the following day. Over the course of the years, I learnt so much from him. An appreciation for golf was one of the few things that stood out to me. In the past the Golf channel was one of those stations that I quickly flipped past when trying to find something to watch. I now know what five under par means, a fairway, and putting. I even know how to tee off. The first time he taught me about golf he reminded me that I would have a quiz the next day. After noticing the quizzical expression on my face, he chuckled and said he would always be a teacher. He...at one time...had been the Dean at one of this country’s prestigious medical colleges.
On a random weekend a few of my friends had invited me to the golf course for a few swings and part take in the camaraderie. My swings were horrible, atrocious at best and despite hitting the ball off the fairway numerous times, I couldn't wait to tell him all about it. He had met my excitement with his usual quiet demeanor expressing how glad he was I had put the theory he had taught me into practical use. The football season was our all time favorite season. We frequently checked the newspaper to see the listing of the games. I even went ahead to find out what was going on within the Ravens team even though it was not my number one team. He loved the Baltimore Ravens, huge fan. I on the other hand was a die hard Giants fan but a good sport nevertheless.
He was such an avid reader. His apartment was lined with shelves upon shelves of books, and as the years went by and his eyesight became poor, he sought out books on tape. He was always learning. The one thing I will always remember about him was how dapper he made sure he was before he walked out the door. If he was to go for brunch or an appointment a jacket was mandatory. Every time he stepped out of the door, presented himself accordingly, you would never find him look anything less.
He passed away three weeks ago.
It did not come as a surprise, he had been ill for quite sometime and a couple of months before his death I had sat with him and asked him if there was anything he regretted not doing. He smiled and stared at his bookcase, but I could tell his mind was going back in time.
“Japan” he uttered
“I would have liked to be able to speak Japanese, but I spent my time playing golf when I was stationed there for a year.”
“Well at least your golf improved.”
“That it did Anne.”
We both laughed. I smiled and looked at him while he gazed absently.
“I would have liked to read more books but now I listen to my books on tape.”
Here was a man who had his apartment wall covered in books. I was somehow blown away.
“Who is your favorite author?”
“Mark Twain.” he said right of the bat as if he knew that that was my next question.
We sat in silence for a few minutes then I asked him if there was anything else he wanted to add on. He had an unreadable expression on his face then he softly said.
“Travel Anne. Go to Japan, oh, and Austria. You will love it. See the world. I can’t at the moment because of my disease”
He was talking about the Parkinson’s disease. A degenerative disorder of the central nervous system. It affects the motor system making any form of body movement extremly hard.
As I took all this in, I glanced at his book case, and somewhere there was a section with albums. So many albums that were tagged Egypt, Peru, Japan, Italy, and other numerous countries. Here was a man that had travelled to many countries of the world but he still would have wanted to see more. Travel does that to you, it opens you up to the vast world we live in.
“Save.” he said breaking me out of my reverie
“I hope you are saving Anne. Save up your money. Invest in something you believe in.”
By now we’d crossed over to where he was giving me advice and as I leaned in to hear his words of wisdom he asked be about my future plans and goals. He mentioned how important it was was to be able to see beyond today. He had lived a good life but he too knew that his time was almost up. A few weeks after this conversation, his body started failing him. He always joked that if bodies were like cars, he would have traded his a long time ago.
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I have been thinking of writing piece for three weeks now. It’s a recent loss and with it being so recent, it slowly unfurls all the other losses I have gone through. The chapters of the dear ones I’d lost but not forgotten seemed to open up. I knew those memories would hung over me as I sat down to jot this piece. I wrote words in my head, had a steady flow of how I wanted them to roll on each other but when I sat down and put my fingers on the keyboard, those words we frozen in my brain. My blank document page stared mockingly at me. I let the words marinate in my head for those three weeks. The reason the words couldn't roll out precisely as I wanted is because I am writing about loss. Not the loss of a favorite lipstick or a favorite pair of shoe that I recently lost during the move but the loss of someone dear, someone special, someone who has impacted my life in more ways than I could ever imagined.
It was a process unlike all the other posts I’ve had to write. My words were mixed in with the memories of my recent loss, the loss of my dad three years ago, loss of a dear friend’s mum, the loss of my friend who’s life was just starting. He was so young! Death! It’s not a topic we like talking or writing about, but sometimes things need to be said. I found strength in those memories. I chuckled at some, cried at others, listened to music that would remind me of them all while putting this piece together.
I have lost people this year, I have seen people I love go through grief because they too lost someone they loved. When my father passed away three years ago, it shook all of my being. It changed everything. The pain was unbearable. I felt the heartache straight through my bones. It left me numb. Luther Vandross’s Dance with my Father will forever bring tears to my eyes. That’s the worst part about growing up. The realization that you will lose people and that you too will die. People you love and cherish will come and go. You will be heartbroken and feel a pain deep down your soul that will gnarl and torment you every single day. It will hurt like hell. The absence of that someone who was once there.
Someone once said grieving is like broken ribs, on the outside you look fine but with every breath, it hurts. Here's the thing with grief, you can not control it. It is like the ocean, ebbing and flowing. Sometimes the water is calm, and sometimes it is overwhelming. All you can do is try and stay afloat, tread or swim. No matter what people say about time healing all wounds, some sorrows never fade away. They will always be there like a tattoo stamped on your heart. The reality is that grieving is forever. It’s not something you get over, it’s something you go through. And as writer Elizabeth Ross puts it, you don't get over the loss of a loved one, you learn to live with it. You will rebuild yourself around the loss you have suffered. You will be whole but never the same again. Nor should you be the same nor should you want to.
CHANGE
So if you are like me, out in the waters having left the shore to set sail, don't stop believing in yourself. For in the waves of change we find our true direction.
This year has brought forth periods of transition in my life. Transitions are not comfortable. Every time you step out of your comfort zone to the unknown, things might get awry, a little bit lonely and even depressing at times. Trying to stay sane and unaffected in this roller-coaster is nearly impossible. The only way to go about it is to think of the transition as an adventure. I am currently living in a city I once only dreamed of. That thought alone is enough to make me pinch my self.
There is so much to learn, so much to take in. Here's a few things am tackling am sure they will change as the days go by.
The Subway
No not the food joint where you have to line up and decided what bread you want to get, honey wheat or oat, or where you have to decide if you want banana peppers or spinach. It's a maze of some sort that I am determined to conquer. A transportation maze to be exact. It’s somewhat dim, well the lighting seems to be dim as if someone dint pay the electric bill. Trains are always whooshing by, groaning as the train cars grind on the rail. People hurrying to catch the train because the doors never stay open for long. This my dear friends is where I will lose the extra ten pounds I always talk about. In New York you walk incessantly and fast or else people will whiz by you like sonic. People are always in a mad dash to get somewhere. The concrete streets are not your park where you can stroll. If you want to stroll, go to Central Park. Back to the subway, the only one I have mastered is the one back and forth to my place. Cant miss it. The A express, Uptown. That is all I have to remember. The other day I had to get to midtown, and because am determined to conquer this system, I googled the address and used the subway app. Thank you Father Lord for these apps. I have no idea how folks did it in the 80s. How? Seriously! I got from A to another one supposedly a local train, then onto another one that was going to put me smack dab by Times Square. Then connect to another one. I looked like a mad woman criss crossing the tiled walk through. I kept glancing at my phone as if my app was lying. The subway’s are hot as hell, it’s like trying to make way through a sauna. I got lost a couple of times and app or not, it doesn’t hurt to ask. This is all new to me but I am determined to master this system. It's not fun getting lost but I always think of it as an adventure.
Shoes
When I had finished unpacking all the boxes and I had displayed my colorful array of shoes as if they were ready to be used on a Vogue set, I realized they were all high. Like super high! Where am I going to be walking in these? I looked at all those pretty pairs aghast. Clearly, I have to start finding shoes with inches closer to earth. The world is my runway but I don’t want to injure my feet figuring out the jig saw puzzles that’s the subway system. Furthermore, mark timing on those street requires the most comfortable shoes.
Style
If my shoes will change, so will my style. Accessories are very important to me. A girl with amazing shoes can conquer the world. I wonder if that includes flat shoes as well, sigh! This will be an interesting transition once I start showcasing new outfit posts. New York city is alive with inspiration. Everyone is their own individual; they own it. Embrace it. I look forward to channeling my creativity. Stay tuned loves.
Plant-based Diet
As if I need to add anything on top of all that I am growing through, I have decided to go Vegan!
Yikes!
As a daughter of Africa, raised and fed animal products eating a plant-based diet has always fascinated me. I am in awe of people who do it and wonder how they can pass up a chance to enjoy a five guys burger!
My sister Flo would reckon it's because I nearly dashed out of the grocery store when I realized my usual Minced Turkey was five dollars more in New York! Five! That's alot! Yeah welcome to New York City, this is just the beginning.
Truth be told, I went Vegan two years ago, then a month before my trip to Kenya, I resumed to eating meat. I couldn't bear the thought of passing up the Farmer's Choice sausage, Nyama Choma, Mutura and finger-licking good beef stew. My mother had already started looking for plant based dinner options for me. Bless her heart. Now am embarking on it again. I am doing it for purely vain reasons. When you eat plant-based food, you glow from within, you lose weight, and you rarely get sick. This is supposedly true. How about I document this and will report back my findings.
I should add in going Vegan I am helping the environment as well but I am sure none of you want to hear about that now. I will dwell on that sometime in the near future. For now can say am trying to figure out new recipes and new vegan blogs. Blogs are everything nowadays.
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What I have learnt so far is that change is uncomfortable. It is not easy, it will mean trying to get by by taking one day at a time. But every time I get up I have to keep trying to adjusting into the newness of it. I am taking it all in. Am I afraid? Yes I am. Sometimes I feel that sickening feeling in my stomach but I have to remember that I am on the next chapter of my life. I don't want to be stuck on the same page.
So if you are like me, out in the waters having left the shore to set sail, don't stop believing in yourself. For in the waves of change we find our true direction. Socrates once said the secret of change is to focus all your energy not on fighting the old but by building the new. Here's to building the new.
THE BIG MOVE
New York is always a good idea....
This year has just been a whirlwind of so many things going on simultaneously. Some how what was going on affected the other. Such is life. You get tried and tested but eventually you come out having learnt so much. With learning there's growth, and that is the nature of things. OH! The site got another makeover. I had the site redone, then had an issue with it last week and I decided to pull the plug. I had it redone AGAIN!! Sometimes you have to be cutthroat. No regrets. So we are back to Squarespace who I like to call my old boyfriend. We had issues but we have kinda resolved them so here we are. New site! New layout! I will tell you about this whole move back to boo. It’s kinda hilarious.
I have been dropping hints on my facebook page and Instagram. Gosh! I am getting goose bumps typing this out because it all seems so surreal. If that picture I grabbed from Pintrest just puts it all out there.
I am moving to NEW YORK CITY!!
Shuuutt the front dooorr!!!
Yes I am.
This weekend to be exact.
It’s been a long time coming. Everything I have done so far has been a build up to this moment. Ever since I was a little girl I have always had the dream that I would live and work in New York City. The bright lights, the energy, the people, I can't pin point one particular thing. Thinking about it gives me that headrush, as if I have sipped a slushy and it’s made brain freeze.
I locked down a place last month. An address, in the city!
New episodes of Roshie and the city coming soon!! (Kidding)
My landlord had to make a decision between me and one other girl. The other girl, let's call her contender had broken up with the boyfriend and was looking for a place. Then there was lil old me doing the big move. The spot I found is just everything, I liked it the minute I walked in and was already thinking of furniture placement.The lighting is perfect because no one wants to live in a cave and quite spacious not the store room like rooms I had been seeing on ads. Rooms and apartments in New York don’t stay open for long. They come and go faster than Usain Bolt.
In my head I was battling it out with the other girl. We were both in the ring and the winner would get the spot. My charm offensive had been at the forefront and now I was just waiting for the outcome. My landlord mentioned he would be in touch with me once he made his decision. Oh my nerves!! I had to get this place or else I would be starting from square one. Looking for places to stay is as boring as a plank or watching grass grow.
Mr. Landlord did call one sunny thursday afternoon but I had been occupied so I missed the call. He texted me that he had left a voice message. I stared at my phone like it was the bearer of bad news. Taking a deep breath I hit play on the voice message. Oh! He was just saying that he was getting on the subway he would call me when he got off. Phew!
By now the knots in my stomach were tightening. My temperature could have shoot up the mercury. I told myself to calm down. In between my frazzled mess, I apparently butt-dialed the Landlord. Oh Lordy!! So I left a high-pitched voicemail stating that I had heard his message and I could NOT wait to hear from him.
The volume on my phone was turned up fully all I had to do now was wait. Oh the waiting!
I tend to think I have the patience of job. This was one time where I just needed to hear what the decision was. Job had checked out three days before. I paced checking my phone every 2.3seconds. My mum smiled at me(I have her as my screen saver), we got this Roshie dear is what she seemed to say.
Finally my phone lights up, mama is smiling, and Adele’s belts out how she will set fire to the rain. I freeze. I stand up but the nerves in my stomach won’t let me, then I sit down. I clear my throat then pick it up.
Hello, I say my voice oozing with honey.
At the back of my mind my conscience is saying, breath, keep calm, breath, keep calm.
“Roshie, how are you?”
“Great!” I squeak
“So I have made a decision and….”
I am mentally throwing punches at the other contender. Jab. Hook. Uppercut!! I am going for a knock out!
Then the Land Lord goes ahead telling me how he came about his decision. Enough already. Get to the point. The nerves in my stomach are a having a full blown party. The Dj has turned up the music. I hold my tummy slightly, listening to Mr. Landlord gently tell me what he thought and so forth. My tummy growls my nerves version of Turn down for what!! Gah!!!
Ever seen American Idol how when someone sings oh so beautifully then has to listen to what the judges have to say. They go ahead and get two yeses from the judges, then the poor person looks at the next judge with puppy eyes. The judge is Simon Cowell sitting on his throne of judgment, wearing a hostile stare and tapping a pen on the desk. He always takes his time before saying YES.
Mr Landlord mentions my name and I break out of my reverie. He says something then...
I have decided to go with you.
I freeze.
What.
What.
I choose you!!
I woop out in joy.
The search has ended
Mentally I have sucker-punched the other contender. She has fallen. It’s a knock out!!! The ref is holding up my arm. I am beaming like the sun. Radiant. If this was American Idol, I would have hugged the judges grabbed the yellow paper and flown to the door to scream and hug my family. Oh and that guy Ryan.
I am beyond thrilled.
The landlord can tell because I can hear him laughing. He is a very nice chap by the way. I can’t wait to tell my mother!!!! Call my family. Goodness! This is surreal. I get myself together while I listen to what he may need me to send over to lock down the place.
I hang up! I just stand there in a daze. Then hot tears start streaming down my face. I close my eyes and say a prayer of thanks. The tears have become water works. I start laughing then call my mother whose in the car with my sister (mummy was visiting us at the time). Flo puts me on audio and I am trying to relay the whole story in between taking huge gulps of air. I can’t keep calm. They scream. They are happy for me. I am still in a daze of some sorts.
That was last month but it feels like yesterday and it still hasn’t sunk in. May be it will, the morning I wake up in New York, wondering what I should have for breakfast. I don’t know. For now, I am living in the moment.
The beauty of having dreams is seeing them come true. Making them a reality. It has taken a lot of sweat, prayers, tears, patience and persistence. The move is a huge deal for me because it’s a transition to another phase of my life. Change is good and I know the journey doesn’t stop here. Nope! It will have its ups and downs. It’s natural. It is in the adversity that one becomes even better, stronger, and greater. I am literally counting days now and as I finish up packing my stuff to embark on this journey a quote by Napoleon Hill comes to my head. He said whatever the mind can conceive and believe, it can achieve. I am looking forward to sharing this journey with you.
Nothing is impossible.
Thanks for stopping by.