The Stubbornness of Sugar

Once upon a time, there was a cake baked over centuries; its ingredients fusing in the heat to form a moist, rich, lush vanilla cake. It wasn’t perfect, but it tasted delicious to anyone with a taste for vanilla. To anyone with taste, really.

One day however, some people without a taste for vanilla came along and decided that the cake did not taste right. A somewhat privileged bunch, they demanded that all the cake’s brown sugar be extracted and replaced with white sugar.

Those who originally baked the cake were confused. The brown sugar had been mixed in with all the other ingredients a very long time ago. It formed part of the cake, and was infused throughout it. There was no real way to extract it.

The people without a taste for vanilla would not listen though. The cake obviously had something wrong with it, they figured. Otherwise it would taste like chocolate cake.

Obviously.

Eventually, they cut out a slice of the cake – somehow convincing themselves that this slice contained all (or enough of) the brown sugar – and they replaced it with a big wedge of chocolate cake.

At first, the chocolate wedge looked a little awkward. It was somewhat shorter than the rest of the cake and – although it slotted relatively neatly into the cake – its diameter was a little too wide.

Neither did it address the continued existence of brown sugar in the cake.

Nevertheless, the people without a taste for vanilla were happy. They were convinced that – while it was certainly not as good as a complete chocolate cake – the vanilla cake was now better than whatever it had been before.

After awhile, the people without a taste for vanilla left. And over time, the people with a taste for vanilla acquired a taste for chocolate. They tried to cut the wedge’s diameter a little and raise it (with additional chocolate slices) to the same height as the rest of the vanilla cake, so that it was all at least well-shaped.

As more time passed, they developed a distaste for the vanilla part of the cake, consuming more and more of the chocolate part, importing more and more replacement chocolate wedges. Some said that the vanilla cake with the chocolate wedge tasted more chocolate than chocolate cake and tried exporting it to the people without a taste for vanilla. They convinced themselves that they had made marble cake. Others described it as vanilla cake with chocolate layers.

While such cakes certainly (can) exist, these suggestions are sadly laughable to anyone with eyes to see.

Because – deny it though we might – the people do not have marble cake. Or vanilla cake with chocolate layers.

We have a vanilla cake with a (somewhat random) chocolate wedge in it
And the brown sugar is still very much in the cake
Affecting its taste far more than we care to admit.

Whether we like it or not.

Trips to Thug-O

I was going to write a long rant about this, but there’s no point. So I’ll just say this.

1. It makes no difference whether you enter Togo through the official border or the illegal one. Tried both. Your choice is simply whether you wish to be screwed by people in uniform or people without. Choose wisely. Choose unwisely. Makes no difference.

2. If you ever want a reason to feel like Ghana is progressing, visit Togo by land.

I’m sure my Togolese brethren are wonderful people.

But by the time you go through Togolese customs, you’ll miss Ghana Police.

Fin.

A (Dope) Cartoon Made by Ghanaians for Ghanaians

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Been awhile, hasn’t it? Let’s not let such little details stop me from sharing my excitement with you though. About what, you may ask?

A new cartoon. Made in Ghana, no less.

*crickets*

Okay, before I lose your attention, allow me to rattle off a few of the names involved in the project:

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It’ll feature original music from artists including Wanlov the Kubolor, M3nsa, and Sena Dagadu (yes… you read that right: F.O.K.N and the Dagadu. What?)

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The characters were designed by the creative beast that is Hanson Akatti.

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The script involved Elisabeth Sutherland of the Accra Theatre Workshop, who also worked on the voice talent.

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Plus Jarreth Merz (who directed the brilliant, award-winning documentary, ‘An African Election’) also did a lot of behind the scenes work to make this a Ghanaian cartoon, aimed at educating and entertaining Ghanaian children, using as much Ghanaian talent as possible.

All that and it combines animation with live action.

Cha. Le.

I love it when Ghanaian creatives from different crafts get together to do dope things. Plus the stories center on food, so my inner Fanti is salivating: sold.

Three episodes of the series – called Foodies – will air on TV3 tomorrow morning at 10 am. All that, and no TV license is necessary for viewing.

*cough*

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For Mom

Mom

To be great means to put our love to work for all of God.
This means Everything. And so you are defined.
The tiny portal of human life itself
must feel our care;
the blameless vulva
through which nations
pass must know our praise
and gratitude.
It must not be harmed.

Thank you, Efua,
sister at the barricades;
we will stand side by side here,
forever. Protecting the people
from themselves;
bearing the dubious gift
of being, for so long, and so
deliberately,
misunderstood. But knowing
in our own bodies
what it means to hurt.

Torture is not culture.

May the light of self love
and understanding
dawn, as tribute
to your Goddess witness
and watchfulness
over all of Life,
divine.

Efua Dorkenoo, presente.

*****

Ser grande significa poner nuestro amor a trabajar por lo que es de Dios.

Esto significa todo. Y se te define.
El minúsculo portal de la vida humana en sí
debe sentir nuestro cuidado;
la inocente vulva
por la cual las naciones
pasan debe saber nuestro aprecio
y gratitud.
No debe ser dañada.

Gracias, Efua,
hermana de las barricadas;
estaremos codo con codo aquí,
para siempre. Protegiendo a la gente
de ellos mismos;
soportando el dudoso don
de ser, por tanto tiempo, y tan
deliberadamente,
mal entendido. Pero sabiendo
en nuestros propios cuerpos
lo que significa herir.

Torturar no es cultura.

Que la luz del amor propio
y el comprensión
alboreen, como tributo a
al testimonio y vigilancia
de tu Diosa
sobre toda la vida,
divina.

Efua Dorkenoo, presente.

Alice Walker

Originally posted on www.alicewalkersgarden.com in December, 2014

Cutting the Rose, by Efua Dorkenoo 1996
Possessing the Secret of Joy, by Alice Walker
Warrior Marks: Female Genital Mutilation and the Sexual Blinding of Women, book and film, by Alice Walker and Pratibha Parmar

The Bastard (Not a Poem)

I am not the good man I try to be
I am like any other
Struggling
With all the flaws that being a man (and human) entails

I will make mistakes
I have made mistakes
Some of which I’m not proud
Some of which I’m yet to learn were mistakes

As I try to reach a standard
Please don’t mistake me for that standard
It is a mistake I sometimes make myself
And it is a dangerous one

For it leads to hurt
When distance is discovered
Between who I am
And who I am trying to be

Distance that I try (and often fail) to shorten
Hurt I wish I could undo