“Ocean of Wisdom”
The Dalai Lama comes to town
I have always looked forward to Thanksgiving. It is a holiday of great significance to Americans in part because it re-enacts and symbolizes the storied history of the early pilgrims and their soon to be vanquished hosts, the Native Americans. I always enjoyed the lavish spread the warmth of family and friends and the pervasive feeling of loving-kindness and compassion displayed to all except of course the thanksgiving turkey. In a perverted sort of way, I confess to especially enjoying the tryptophan induced stupor of eating too much turkey and drinking too much Port.
But this time, I missed this year’s celebration for good reasons. First of all I was in Lagos a place where truly religious ceremonies like Sallah for the Moslems and Christmas for the Christians hold sway, none of this secular religious stuff, and even more important, I was for several hours awash in the “Ocean of Wisdom.”
For many hours beginning at noon, we were all cramped into a crowded hall to listen to His Holiness, The Dalai Lama, speak at the occasion of the tenth anniversary of the eponymous Emanuel Anyiam-Osigwe Anyiam Foundation. The man in question is now being rightly recognized as an important philosopher-sage and as the mission statement of the foundation established in his name states: “While on this plane Chief Anyiam-Osigwe adopted and propagated an approach to existence which is premised on the universality of Truth, and emphasized the harmony that exists in the teachings of such great masters as Christ, Mohammed, Buddha, Confucius. His practical application of these universal teachings and principles convey an insight into the feasibility of their application in the context of everyday life towards an improvement of the composite welfare of the individual.” ( http://www.anyiam osigwe.org/foundation%20philosophy.html )
Having been fortunate to have known him, “Papa” as we all fondly called him must have been pleased to have a fellow sage acknowledge and validate his deeply profound teaching, now being published for posterity by the Philosophy department of the University of Ibadan. For a man who could effortless weigh in on “The Cosmic mind, divine Intelligence reveals itself to its chosen individuals of different races and peoples, at different times and at different places, adapting the enlightenment experience to the relevant spiritual, socio-political and economic milieu,” the Dalai Lama was the perfect speaker for the event.
Not surprisingly, the theme of the lecture was “The Unity of The Absolute, the Oneness of All Religions: Value Guided Conduct as a Universal Tenet and Propriety as a Way of Life for Mankind” and his Holiness’ keynote address was on the topic “The Universality of the God Principle, the Sense of Unity in the Teachings of the Great Masters.” Both pretty heavy going for an audience used to more down to earth castigations of bad African leadership that previous speakers in different ways have alluded to.
Seating in that crowed auditorium, the pageantry of contrasts was plain to see. The stiff-limbed pomp and circumstance of the Nigerian elite, channeled through the haughty Nigerian introductions of “My Lords spiritual and temporal…” and the always favorite “all protocol observed.” The latter an abbreviated salutation designed to assuage the fragile egos of Nigerian dignitaries who expect to be “formally mentioned” in every event. Now contrast all that with the Dalai Lama. A small man swaddled in saffron robes, wearing flip-flops, with bright eyes piercing through large owlish glasses. His presence was everything that his Nigerian audience was not.
And instead of a cosmic revelation about, perhaps, Nirvana, His holiness chose to talk about something he has observed in Nigeria, something earthy, something we are all familiar with, poverty in the midst of plenty. His lucid and down to earth exposition on caring, compassion, loving-kindness and our collective responsibility to each other, spoken in his “bad English,” as he put it, went down well with the audience, as did his sly humor and sweeping anecdotes of his life’s journey through many place meeting with many people. It was a truly enlightening encounter.
In the various formal responses by other speakers, the innocent mutilation of his name was in a sense, good comic relief. My favorite was the gentleman who kept referring to “his Holiness the dilemma” as in “I would like to thank the dilemma for making this auspicious trip to Nigeria…” “It is important that the dilemma…”
The significance of this trip to Nigeria will remain subject to debate, but for me it was one more paddle stroke toward “enlightenment.” Me, paddling furiously in my leaky life raft in the sea of Samsara, heading out into the ocean of wisdom.
Monday, December 8, 2008
Sunday, November 9, 2008
Any day now...
Any day now…
If you are like me, still trying to process the meaning of Barack Obama as POTUS (President of the United States), then you surely must have been struck by the startling theater of President-elect Barack Obama’s first post election press conference as it unfolded on Television all around the world. At the time initially scheduled for the briefing, my phone rang, and on the line was the raspy baritone of my friend Wale Ajadi calling from Lagos. “Has the briefing started he asked” “Briefing” I asked somewhat quizzically, then I realized that indeed, regardless of space or time, New Jersey or Lagos, the World was waiting to hear again from Obama.
As is typical of Wale, always irreverent and disruptive, he tossed a line about Obama already operation on CPT (figure that out for yourself). To which I sallied forth in defense of Obama, chewing Wale out on the phone, even as he feigned ignorance about the needling aptness of his comment, all the while chuckling and pleading his mock innocence. That was a typical Wale encounter, a ruthless truthfulness that can either be funny or painfully funny. Mercifully, the announcement came that the President-elect was about to make his speech, and thus I was spared more of Wale’s wryness, until the next time.
On the TV a novel sight was unfolding, first was the phalanx of mostly white men and some “minorities,” dutifully lining up behind the lectern, a short pause, the Vice-President elect, and then striding purposefully toward center stage was the President-elect Barack Obama. I had to do a double take, heart was “a dancing” with joy, but my mind for a split second convinced me that it was one of those movies with “a black president” and at any moment, the heroic white male protagonist would leap on stage, shoot a couple of the bad guys, defuse the bomb, save the president and of course get the girl. But not this time, this was no theatre this was real. And now I have to deal with this new reality and process it whichever way I can.
One outlandish but really poignant thought was prompted by a short email from my friend Sonata Olumhense titled “Any day now.” Boy did that take me back. Well here is the story. True fiction.
Many years ago, perhaps a quarter of a century ago, I was sitting in a Barbershop in Brixton, London waiting for my friend Winston to have his hair cut. This was a couple of years after the first Brixton riots of April 1981 and as such it was the unspoken backdrop to the many conversations going on. We all know the archetype of the black barbershop, lots of people, most of them not actual patrons, but neighborhood folks chillin’ and catching up with the latest local gossip, as well weighing in on the global state of affairs, especially as it affected black people. I sat there like a faux social anthropologists catching the various threads of flittering conversations, and trying to subconsciously weave them into a mental parchment for later review. I strained my ears to understand the lyrical lilting singsong cadences of the many West Indian voices that I was soaking up. But one suddenly struck me, as much by the gravelly and authoritative baritone as the quiet and measured authority with which he spoke and other listened. He was one of the barbers; an older West Indian man, dark with a craggy handsome weather beaten face, his moustache undulating gracefully as he dispensed wit and wisdom. “I tell you man… tings are changing, tings will change” he said, snip, snip as he tenderly and unhurriedly cut the hair of another older black gentleman, wielding the scissors with practiced grace. As I discovered, there was also in this barbershop the call and response dynamic that is present in most African oral traditions, and to this Pollyannish view of the black world was a rolling wave of howls from the Cassandras, “no way mon… black people are doomed…” said one disembodied voice. The barber persisted, snip, snip, “black man are take over you know…” a pause, “any day now.” To which the response was a thunderous eruption of howls, thigh slapping disagreements, eyes rolling in disbelief and various expletives in patois, too deep for my untrained ears to fully grasp. In a nutshell, there was widespread disagreement.
For decades after, I carried this doubt in my psyche, and even as the tale became one my more famous stories, with each unvarnished retelling as the call, the response from my listeners was usually a nervous and painful laughter about the underlying truth of our pessimism. “Black man taking over?” Don’t make me laugh.
Now, I am not one ordinarily inclined to believe in latter day prophets, especially of the barbershop variety. But watching that press conference… well.
If you are like me, still trying to process the meaning of Barack Obama as POTUS (President of the United States), then you surely must have been struck by the startling theater of President-elect Barack Obama’s first post election press conference as it unfolded on Television all around the world. At the time initially scheduled for the briefing, my phone rang, and on the line was the raspy baritone of my friend Wale Ajadi calling from Lagos. “Has the briefing started he asked” “Briefing” I asked somewhat quizzically, then I realized that indeed, regardless of space or time, New Jersey or Lagos, the World was waiting to hear again from Obama.
As is typical of Wale, always irreverent and disruptive, he tossed a line about Obama already operation on CPT (figure that out for yourself). To which I sallied forth in defense of Obama, chewing Wale out on the phone, even as he feigned ignorance about the needling aptness of his comment, all the while chuckling and pleading his mock innocence. That was a typical Wale encounter, a ruthless truthfulness that can either be funny or painfully funny. Mercifully, the announcement came that the President-elect was about to make his speech, and thus I was spared more of Wale’s wryness, until the next time.
On the TV a novel sight was unfolding, first was the phalanx of mostly white men and some “minorities,” dutifully lining up behind the lectern, a short pause, the Vice-President elect, and then striding purposefully toward center stage was the President-elect Barack Obama. I had to do a double take, heart was “a dancing” with joy, but my mind for a split second convinced me that it was one of those movies with “a black president” and at any moment, the heroic white male protagonist would leap on stage, shoot a couple of the bad guys, defuse the bomb, save the president and of course get the girl. But not this time, this was no theatre this was real. And now I have to deal with this new reality and process it whichever way I can.
One outlandish but really poignant thought was prompted by a short email from my friend Sonata Olumhense titled “Any day now.” Boy did that take me back. Well here is the story. True fiction.
Many years ago, perhaps a quarter of a century ago, I was sitting in a Barbershop in Brixton, London waiting for my friend Winston to have his hair cut. This was a couple of years after the first Brixton riots of April 1981 and as such it was the unspoken backdrop to the many conversations going on. We all know the archetype of the black barbershop, lots of people, most of them not actual patrons, but neighborhood folks chillin’ and catching up with the latest local gossip, as well weighing in on the global state of affairs, especially as it affected black people. I sat there like a faux social anthropologists catching the various threads of flittering conversations, and trying to subconsciously weave them into a mental parchment for later review. I strained my ears to understand the lyrical lilting singsong cadences of the many West Indian voices that I was soaking up. But one suddenly struck me, as much by the gravelly and authoritative baritone as the quiet and measured authority with which he spoke and other listened. He was one of the barbers; an older West Indian man, dark with a craggy handsome weather beaten face, his moustache undulating gracefully as he dispensed wit and wisdom. “I tell you man… tings are changing, tings will change” he said, snip, snip as he tenderly and unhurriedly cut the hair of another older black gentleman, wielding the scissors with practiced grace. As I discovered, there was also in this barbershop the call and response dynamic that is present in most African oral traditions, and to this Pollyannish view of the black world was a rolling wave of howls from the Cassandras, “no way mon… black people are doomed…” said one disembodied voice. The barber persisted, snip, snip, “black man are take over you know…” a pause, “any day now.” To which the response was a thunderous eruption of howls, thigh slapping disagreements, eyes rolling in disbelief and various expletives in patois, too deep for my untrained ears to fully grasp. In a nutshell, there was widespread disagreement.
For decades after, I carried this doubt in my psyche, and even as the tale became one my more famous stories, with each unvarnished retelling as the call, the response from my listeners was usually a nervous and painful laughter about the underlying truth of our pessimism. “Black man taking over?” Don’t make me laugh.
Now, I am not one ordinarily inclined to believe in latter day prophets, especially of the barbershop variety. But watching that press conference… well.
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
The Day After
As we all walk in a post election daze, not all for the same reasons, I can only attempt a feeble response to this global phenomena. Brack Obama winning the U.S. election and in one fell swoop, redefining race relations in the US by wiping out the nation's original sin, and presenting the world a new vision of humanity...bla bla bla. No trust me, this is not a cynical retort, it is the result of sleep deprivation and the ineffable joy in my heart that I know I share with billions round the world. But I am nonetheless obliged to say something. Hmmmm.. well "Ex America semper aliquid novi" a quote by that famous philosopher "Tunji the Junior." America always brings us something new!
Now wait a minute buster... that's no original quote! Sorry. the real quote of course is Ex Africa semper alquid novi attributed to Pliny the Elder and it means more or less that Africa always brings us something new! Well this certainly is new, but is it relevant? Hey Brack's father is from Kenya right? Well... Africa, no better still, Africa and America always brings us something new!
Now wait a minute buster... that's no original quote! Sorry. the real quote of course is Ex Africa semper alquid novi attributed to Pliny the Elder and it means more or less that Africa always brings us something new! Well this certainly is new, but is it relevant? Hey Brack's father is from Kenya right? Well... Africa, no better still, Africa and America always brings us something new!
Monday, November 3, 2008
Barack Obama: Whiteman's dilemma
Hi, Caught in the grip of election fever, this is my catharsis. The future in black and white.
Barack Obama. “That one” as Senator John McCain so infamously described Barack Obama in their third televised presidential debate to the glee and horror of millions of US viewers was yet another poignant punctuation mark in the racial dialogue of the ever evolving grand American narrative. But I missed it. As a non-native viewer, my initial response was to chalk up the remark to McCain being “McCain,” a crusty old curmudgeon given by turns to periodic outbursts and a mischievous disarming charm.
It was in the inevitable post debate deconstruction by TV pundits that the covet allusions were exposed, “that one” was variously interpreted to be everything from a common “Irish” expression to a subtle, condescending racist slur that most Americans, especially African-Americans would understand. Like most things, the truth must surely lie somewhere in between, and it a measure of just how ubiquitous and invidious the issue of race is in America-and even more so in this extraordinary elections-that in every word might lie a spring loaded racist pun.
It is almost clichéd to talk about race and racism in America. This artificial social construct is so embedded in the collective psyche and spirit of America, that is difficult not to preface every conversation about equality in America without the periodic listening in of the ambient humming of race, whispering its discordant tune. For non-white immigrants whose ears have not been trained to hear those racialist notes, it takes quite a while to be able to actually “hear” that ambient anthem of racism. But over time, one hears, one sees and one actually begins to understand the covert drivers that define the issue of race in America. One such moment of clarity for me came when I watched the September Republican Convention a week after the Democrats held theirs in late August. The experience for me was like night and day, black and white, if you will. The grand theatre of a Barack Obama addressing a rainbow nation of Americans promising hope and change was a startling sight, because the implicit sense of possibility was that this man, okay, “this black man” could one day be the President of the United States of America ( POTUS). The very idea of “a black man” as arguably the most powerful human on the planet requires a cosmic recalibration and attitudinal adjustment that might be beyond the capacity of many Americans, black and white.
During the television broadcast of the aforementioned Republican Convention I sat with the rapt attention of a political neophyte new to the ways of American electoral politics. I watched the TV screen intently, trying to decipher why this other party seemed so distant from the values espoused just some days before. As speaker after speaker extolled the war time heroics of John McCain, while simultaneously deriding and mocking the perceived histrionics of Barack Obama, to the rapturous applause of an agitated sea of blanched faces, save the odd speckling of black, it suddenly hit me. In the waves and waves of party faithful, the so-called rock solid republican base, “the true face(s) of America,” the “Joe the plumber” and his archetypes, I saw something that I instantly recognized. It was something that periodically confronts and confounds us, something unsettling, deeply unsettling and troubling, something called fear. In the faces of this group of white men, and in heeding my own caveat I hasten to add “not all white men,” I saw and fully recognized that primal surge of uncertainty about tomorrow. A feeling that I have grown familiar with for all together different reasons, but a feeling nonetheless about a novel tomorrow, with the possibility of a black man as POTUS.
Even as each one swaddled in the familiar comfort of the red white and blue, must respectively confront the fear and loathing of the inevitability of change, the more concrete reality of a busted economy signaling hard times ahead, two enervating wars, the decline of American global status, begs a response. But what, how do you respond to the unprecedented ascendancy of a very gifted American politician who clearly represents a different and new way forward, but who just happens to be black?
Barack Obama’s unbearable blackness of being is at once the denouement of the grand American narrative; the plodding but inevitable fulfillment of these opening words penned with remarkable prescience on July 4, 1776 by group of very wise white men, “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.”
In rising to collectively fulfill the sacrament of it independence, America through the election of Barack Obama as President has once again displayed its “exceptionalism” and advanced the cause of humankind by providing the world with a transcendent and transformational figure that immediately challenges all the negative and divisive “isms” of our times. A Barack Obama as POTUS has an aspirational doppelganger almost literally as leader of the world in this new century. Tough assignment to be sure, but anyone who has over the last two years of his campaign discerned his preternatural self possession, calmness, and steely determination to change the world for the better can make a safe bet that at the very least he would be a much better improvement on George Bush.
But what about those hold outs, those mostly white men and some women who can’t possibly conceive of an America in which to put it bluntly, the President is a black man?
To them I paraphrase French romanticist Victor Hugo when he said, “ No army can stop an idea whose time has come.” Today as I write this a couple of days before the historic elections on Tuesday November 4th 2008, win or lose a “Barack Obama” is an idea whose time has come, America can and will never be the same again. Americans, all Americans can now legitimately challenge that pharaonic sense of implicit entitlement and accomplishment that some white men have about their place in the America, the world and indeed the universe. The huddled undifferentiated masses of “minorities and women,” can now begin to emerge from the shadows to challenge and hold America to the word of the founding fathers’ self evident truths. In 1831 when another French man, Alexis de Tocqueville writing about democracy in America, made the case for America’s exceptionalism. It was by one interpretation to underscore the difference and put some distance between the evolving American New World ideals and the staid European Old World views it had left behind. In other interpretations and especially when conflated with the concept of a “manifest destiny,” even as it connotes the contentious acquisition of vast tracts land across the North American continent, it provided a unique sense of superiority and dominion over and above all others. From the right to own slaves to key elements of the Bush doctrine-the right to globally spread democratic values, as well as to preemptively strike at America’s perceived enemies, with the unilateral swagger that has mired America in Iraq, all these elements brewing in a four hundred year old melting pot have come to head with this election. The American story is about to be re-written and the new chapters will be a more inclusive narrative that does not portray the white man as the protagonist that dominates every story line, even when not there. E PLURIBUS UNUM; out of the many shall indeed come one, one American grand narrative. In coming full circle to one, “that one” or “the one,” or “this one” or “the other” the collective reality of today is that we all live in an increasingly interdependent and delicately balanced world, in which there really is no “other.”
The White man’s dilemma is that on the day after Tuesday, in gazing at the mirror he will either see his true reflection as being wholly part of “us” or choose to believe the refraction of his distorted identity as being separate and different from the rest of America. Whichever way, America will march toward hope and change; with the righteous wind behind her the laggards will have to catch up, hopefully soon.
Barack Obama. “That one” as Senator John McCain so infamously described Barack Obama in their third televised presidential debate to the glee and horror of millions of US viewers was yet another poignant punctuation mark in the racial dialogue of the ever evolving grand American narrative. But I missed it. As a non-native viewer, my initial response was to chalk up the remark to McCain being “McCain,” a crusty old curmudgeon given by turns to periodic outbursts and a mischievous disarming charm.
It was in the inevitable post debate deconstruction by TV pundits that the covet allusions were exposed, “that one” was variously interpreted to be everything from a common “Irish” expression to a subtle, condescending racist slur that most Americans, especially African-Americans would understand. Like most things, the truth must surely lie somewhere in between, and it a measure of just how ubiquitous and invidious the issue of race is in America-and even more so in this extraordinary elections-that in every word might lie a spring loaded racist pun.
It is almost clichéd to talk about race and racism in America. This artificial social construct is so embedded in the collective psyche and spirit of America, that is difficult not to preface every conversation about equality in America without the periodic listening in of the ambient humming of race, whispering its discordant tune. For non-white immigrants whose ears have not been trained to hear those racialist notes, it takes quite a while to be able to actually “hear” that ambient anthem of racism. But over time, one hears, one sees and one actually begins to understand the covert drivers that define the issue of race in America. One such moment of clarity for me came when I watched the September Republican Convention a week after the Democrats held theirs in late August. The experience for me was like night and day, black and white, if you will. The grand theatre of a Barack Obama addressing a rainbow nation of Americans promising hope and change was a startling sight, because the implicit sense of possibility was that this man, okay, “this black man” could one day be the President of the United States of America ( POTUS). The very idea of “a black man” as arguably the most powerful human on the planet requires a cosmic recalibration and attitudinal adjustment that might be beyond the capacity of many Americans, black and white.
During the television broadcast of the aforementioned Republican Convention I sat with the rapt attention of a political neophyte new to the ways of American electoral politics. I watched the TV screen intently, trying to decipher why this other party seemed so distant from the values espoused just some days before. As speaker after speaker extolled the war time heroics of John McCain, while simultaneously deriding and mocking the perceived histrionics of Barack Obama, to the rapturous applause of an agitated sea of blanched faces, save the odd speckling of black, it suddenly hit me. In the waves and waves of party faithful, the so-called rock solid republican base, “the true face(s) of America,” the “Joe the plumber” and his archetypes, I saw something that I instantly recognized. It was something that periodically confronts and confounds us, something unsettling, deeply unsettling and troubling, something called fear. In the faces of this group of white men, and in heeding my own caveat I hasten to add “not all white men,” I saw and fully recognized that primal surge of uncertainty about tomorrow. A feeling that I have grown familiar with for all together different reasons, but a feeling nonetheless about a novel tomorrow, with the possibility of a black man as POTUS.
Even as each one swaddled in the familiar comfort of the red white and blue, must respectively confront the fear and loathing of the inevitability of change, the more concrete reality of a busted economy signaling hard times ahead, two enervating wars, the decline of American global status, begs a response. But what, how do you respond to the unprecedented ascendancy of a very gifted American politician who clearly represents a different and new way forward, but who just happens to be black?
Barack Obama’s unbearable blackness of being is at once the denouement of the grand American narrative; the plodding but inevitable fulfillment of these opening words penned with remarkable prescience on July 4, 1776 by group of very wise white men, “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.”
In rising to collectively fulfill the sacrament of it independence, America through the election of Barack Obama as President has once again displayed its “exceptionalism” and advanced the cause of humankind by providing the world with a transcendent and transformational figure that immediately challenges all the negative and divisive “isms” of our times. A Barack Obama as POTUS has an aspirational doppelganger almost literally as leader of the world in this new century. Tough assignment to be sure, but anyone who has over the last two years of his campaign discerned his preternatural self possession, calmness, and steely determination to change the world for the better can make a safe bet that at the very least he would be a much better improvement on George Bush.
But what about those hold outs, those mostly white men and some women who can’t possibly conceive of an America in which to put it bluntly, the President is a black man?
To them I paraphrase French romanticist Victor Hugo when he said, “ No army can stop an idea whose time has come.” Today as I write this a couple of days before the historic elections on Tuesday November 4th 2008, win or lose a “Barack Obama” is an idea whose time has come, America can and will never be the same again. Americans, all Americans can now legitimately challenge that pharaonic sense of implicit entitlement and accomplishment that some white men have about their place in the America, the world and indeed the universe. The huddled undifferentiated masses of “minorities and women,” can now begin to emerge from the shadows to challenge and hold America to the word of the founding fathers’ self evident truths. In 1831 when another French man, Alexis de Tocqueville writing about democracy in America, made the case for America’s exceptionalism. It was by one interpretation to underscore the difference and put some distance between the evolving American New World ideals and the staid European Old World views it had left behind. In other interpretations and especially when conflated with the concept of a “manifest destiny,” even as it connotes the contentious acquisition of vast tracts land across the North American continent, it provided a unique sense of superiority and dominion over and above all others. From the right to own slaves to key elements of the Bush doctrine-the right to globally spread democratic values, as well as to preemptively strike at America’s perceived enemies, with the unilateral swagger that has mired America in Iraq, all these elements brewing in a four hundred year old melting pot have come to head with this election. The American story is about to be re-written and the new chapters will be a more inclusive narrative that does not portray the white man as the protagonist that dominates every story line, even when not there. E PLURIBUS UNUM; out of the many shall indeed come one, one American grand narrative. In coming full circle to one, “that one” or “the one,” or “this one” or “the other” the collective reality of today is that we all live in an increasingly interdependent and delicately balanced world, in which there really is no “other.”
The White man’s dilemma is that on the day after Tuesday, in gazing at the mirror he will either see his true reflection as being wholly part of “us” or choose to believe the refraction of his distorted identity as being separate and different from the rest of America. Whichever way, America will march toward hope and change; with the righteous wind behind her the laggards will have to catch up, hopefully soon.
Saturday, October 25, 2008
Fifty sense...no really!
Hello again,
The only real important thing to report is that I turned 50 about three weeks ago. After building up an existential froth about my impending half century, the day more or less came and went. I spent it quietly with my spouse, daughter and my kid sister visiting from Nigeria. We went to dinner and saw the Lion King on Broadway. OK, truthfully, turning fifty has made me more in tune with my mortality, I have silently congratulated myself for surviving this first fifty and I am looking forward to the next as it were. I am sure that as more fully embrace this new, no, this renewed sense of being, I will have more to say. But one thing that has become clearer to me is the fact that, that all things considered... this first fifty has been a fair shot at life. And for this I am profoundly grateful.
Saturday, August 30, 2008
Obamarama
Last week, I suppose that like many millions (38 million to be exact) in the US, we spent our eyes glued to the incredible spectacle of the Democratic Convention in Denver unfolding in HDTV. It was especially poignant for me because I watched this historic event in the company of Atinuke my politically conscious 8 year old and her Mum, a self-described Obama-mama. The only fly in the ointment came afterwards with the announcement of McCain's running mate, a choice so cynical that it spurred Atinuke to herself toss her hat in the ring. She was not going to stand for this faux Hillary impersonator, so she has decided to run herself. The details are here:
But seriously, listening to the "sisters" Michelle and Hillary make their respective speeches, just underscored what I have always maintained; the world is not going to get far without the active involvement and participation of women in all spheres and at all levels. But I must issue a caveat here, by women, I don't mean all women. For example, what is to be made of Ndi Okereke-Onyiuke? As media would say, "In another related story, the chairperson of the Nigerian Stock Exchange... in a nutshell this really unsavory woman conducted a 419 fund raiser for Obama drawing the righteous ire of right thinking Nigerians. I mention this as a sharp counterpoint to the type of women that we all need right now in positions of leadership. See the link below
http://odili.net/news/source/2008/aug/18/407.html
As the Obama phalanx marches on post the incredible convention and hopefully straight on to the White House, I am grateful that I could see in Michelle and Hillary that potent distaff promise that the world is yet to fully redeem. Perhaps in Atinuke's time. As for the brothers and Obama here is what I think:http://okebadan.blogspot.com/2008/05/new-obama.html
Peace
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