Eternal Sunshine of a Not-So-Spotless Drama

January is a traditionally sober month for me--not because it's the beginning of the year, and I--like many people are broke--but primarily because it is a month that takes me back to Brussels, Belgium. It was exactly 26 years ago ,on 8 January, that I would find myself in Brussels, with my elder brother and my parents in what would prove to be a privileged life, starting in an apartment and ending in Belgian suburbia--with no stranger to tragedy.

It is precisely because of the tragedies that befell us--my maternal grandmother on a visit in the mid-80s getting a stroke out of the blue; and my brother falling foul to a 14-month coma in 1991--that I am necessarily grateful for how far I have come, and whence I am going.

I like to think I am going places--my parents sacrificed quite a part of their salaries to get my brother and I an excellent education in private international schools in Brussels. The racism we endured as a family was de rigeuer--but nothing, in retrospect, to sneeze at. Suburbia has a funny way of making uniform values, and, possibly, by extension, race--in the sense that you all mow the lawn on one day; wash the car on another; and greet each other with veneers you never though possible. Ultimately, your race is rarely seen.

The opportunity to work in Brussels among beautiful, European women was also a privilege not every African gets to enjoy; in the same vein, being an African and being afforded that opportunity to both enjoy that as well as that of the beautiful, African woman is also another privilege to savour. Privilege, because it is among many of these women that I would chose the one who would become my girlfriend of two years running.

In all seriousness, in my thirty years, I have appreciated the bad times in my life. The time I was at a nadir, and felt I couldn't move, for instance--like in 1995, when I was compelled to stay at home because I had failed to make more than one "A" grade to translation school.

Twelve years later, here is me--a humble blogger with a penchant for eccentricity, but also a newly-recruited ICT columnist, with a sexy and gorgeous significant other who loves me as much as I her. Finally, parents who are able to confirm that there is a method to my madness, to which they endure a tolerance.

Over the past year, I have loved and disliked; gone to a soulful, and lustful place.

At the time of writing, I am battling a recurring intense feeling for a married colleague. More of the same?

Not quite! I've got a manuscript for my novel to complete by my 31st birthday--and I'm certainly a man on fire, redux!;-)


Thankfully, I don't have to erase any memories before charging forth in the new year!
HAPPY NEW YEAR!