Africa
“I have typhus, not today.” “Cool, come and watch the match then.” The first message is from Jacques, implying we will not be playing our usual game of tennis at the Ocean View compound at Mamba Point today. The second message is from Gilberto after finding out that I no longer have any plans. Rousseau…
HE SPEAKS CALMLY, KEEPING THE SAME TONE OF VOICE THROUGHOUT. He moves his hands slowly, only half looking at you, steadily interrupting your rushed arguments and shakes his head a couple of times as you speak. Every two or three minutes, as we talk over dinner at the Royal Hotel sushi restaurant, the UNMIL policeman…
BUT LOOK WHO’S THERE. As I walk into the Red Lion I spot Ramon sitting opposite a German donning a dirty and scraggy beard. Only a tiny table separates them, and they are there, forehead to forehead, as if they were playing a decisive chess game – the round of chess that will save the…
“IT’S IN A STATE, MAN, GREECE IS IN A STATE,” says Frankie, a Liberian, as he noisily walks around his Portuguese friend, Gilberto’s kitchen in his kiwi green, scraggy shirt. “It’s in a state, man, Greece is in a state! I just got back from there and Jesus, it’s all stress and pressure; the bank…
I can’t help it. I am reading an interesting novel about a violinist who loses his talent out of the blue, but I cannot help it. Pages fourteen and fifteen have been violently wiped off the screen that is my eyes and I can no longer breathe. The pages are suffocating under the weight of…
It’s the brakes. A steel voice informs me that something is wrong with the brake fluid. My car is not up to it, or perhaps it’s just melancholic. And since then, I walk. Now I am a white guy whose soles tread upon the tarmac of Mamba Point and who’s covered in sweat by the…
At first we did not talk. Never ever. Not even whenever I’d set foot in his motley Nissan Sunny, which was attempting to be yellow and I’d make some friendly, open comment. Now, I am not saying that I’d come out with harmless banter about the weather, no, it gets worse than that; my tongue…
Our football team has won and we’re all celebrating at the Red Lion, under the influence of Club Beers and other natural juices. Like every other day, nightfall is punctual and dictatorial. Waving Flag is playing in the background, waking us all up and making us imagine because dreaming is more difficult. It has been…
He always starts talking at about quarter past or half past seven in the middle of UN Drive. Actually, he doesn’t talk, but rather screams, shouts, and quite often sings. I listen to him. I see him. I see him every day as soon as I step out into the street. He’s always sitting down,…
The word Party encapsulates the meaning of the universe. The idea of a party offers an opportunity to escape from the powerful and dictatorial god by the name of Routine. When the lungs breathe out “party”, the possibility of possibility appears, dripping with adrenaline. A someone. Let us reveal the secret once and for all:…