Tuesday 8 September 2020
BODY LINGUA FEATURING JAMILLA OKUBO'S ART
Disclaimer: The poetry is not an attempt to explain the artwork. This will just be me writing whatever poetry came to me when I looked at the artwork.
Today we will be exploring the awesomeness that is Jamilla Okubo. I saw her Art on Pinterest and I was in absolute awe. Her art, in my opinion, is a raw and defined mix of Afro, colour and culture. Her painting calls you, mirrors your thoughts and leaves you wondering. It gives you a feel-good sense of adventure and wishes you into resonation. I want to say maybe it's just my eyes, but I know it's not. Jamilla is simply amazing.
Jamilla Okubo's Bio
Jamilla Okubo is a mixed-media and interdisciplinary artist exploring the intricacies of belonging to an American, Kenyan, and Trinidadian identity. Combining figurative painting, pattern/textile design, fashion, and storytelling, she celebrates the Black body in relation to movement, expression, ideology, and culture. Inspired by kanga cloth, which communicates messages derived from Swahili proverbs, quotes from the Qur’an, African folklore and popular culture, Okubo creates her own patterns in reference to the history, mythology, and vernacular of the African diaspora.
A fusion of Jamilla Okubo's Artwork and my Poetry
Body lingua
I soak my loneliness in wetness
And it is unable to dry,
I knock my knees together
To silence the lips in between my legs.
I pretend not to understand its language
When our bodies scrape past each other in the lobby.
Last supper
Many hands to one bowl
That was my home,
Was how I knew that
Boiling grain long enough
Will let it swell into satisfaction.
Was how I knew eating meat was funeral,
Our mouths could not suck on marrows
Or chew flesh
Unless God struck something dead
And left it decaying in the backyard.
Was how I knew my mother to be a starving woman
Calculating & observing,
Marinating the meal in her saliva
Until my father swallowed his piece.
The cycle
You will understand
Your mother's Night vigils,
Her paranoia
Her annoying dotting & scolding
Her firmness
Her unsolicited advice & everything
When you watch your daughter
Becoming herself
By reliving episodes of your past mistakes.
You will call her at your feet
With confusion & anger,
You will ask questions you already know the answers to
You will try to fix unfixable things
Make calls to whatever is trying to
Turn your child into a bone of loss,
You, this same you
Will take a page from your mother's book
To close a chapter of your daughter's vacuum.
This is us
Maybe we are a brainwashed generation
Maybe we have become too fizzy & unorthodox for regular reasoning
Maybe we are all the things they say we are
Crazy - rebel - doomed!
We have vomited status quo
Trampled conformity underfoot
Decided to live happy and free
On our own risky terms.
We have apologised to our parents
Forced them to bury their expectations
Because we would rather parent plants & cats
Than produce people who will inherit our problems
Maybe this is us
Wanting to relax and be taken care of
Wanting everything in the bag secure
Wanting the table, the seat and the whole room
If this is us
Is it really such a bad thing?
Let my body burn
I want the type
Of love
that feels
Like voodoo
Something enchanting
that will make me fall
Head over heels
In touch with my emotions
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
I want to be bent
In positions
that break my
Bones into rainbows
Twist my nerves
Into gummy bears
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
I want the type of love
that calls me home
raises my moans
Above pitches &
Let's it go up like incense
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
I want this love that
Lights up my soul
With a match
Of sensation
And doesn't care if
My body Burns
In ecstasy
⠀⠀⠀
⠀
Did you know that Jamilla designed the book cover for An American Marriage by Tayari Jones
Read my review of the book here
What was your favourite poem/artwork from this post?
Friday 4 September 2020
MEDICAL STUDENTS HAVE NO BUSINESS TREATING PATIENTS
My very painful experience with a Medical student
I spent the better half of yesterday wondering if this was the perfect new month post but I have realized that if I don’t unpack my irritation I will be doing all of us a disservice. The later part of August was not good for me at all. A lot happened that has changed the trajectory of my life, maybe one day I will tell the full story, anyway, I fell ill and it wasn’t funny.
The only way I knew to heal fast was to take injections. Brethren, it went smooth for the first few days, there was this petite chocolate girl that knew indeed what she was doing. I had to take three injections on that day and two subsequently, she was tender, precise and before I had the chance to feel, she was done injecting me. Let me add that I prefer Injections to tablets, I mean, who has the wherewithal to be swallowing bitter and chemical-smelling tablets, plus injections work faster.
My injection was for five days but disaster struck on the fourth day. I will dedicate a post to talk about my immense dislike for oversabi’s, the most annoying part about these brands of people is that most times they have little or no knowledge about what they are actually saying, they just exaggerate what they think they know.
I walked into this pharmacy and I didn’t see the angel that gave me my injections previously, I sat down to wait for her and I could not help but notice this loud-mouthed dark boy. They were talking about side effects at the pharmacy and I remember his only input ( which was the most deafening) was ‘’Side effects are more harmful than the sickness itself’’ he said it over and over in exaggerated English. To be honest, I thought he was maybe the manager or something and he came occasionally because I never saw him all the while I was taking my medication.
My petite angel came and I was relieved. I was taken aback when she called me into the injection room and the loud guy was with her. I just guessed he was there to supervise. Before I could process everything he was with my hand ready to chuck me. Apparently, he was a Medical student and he was learning. I don’t know in what world I looked like a lab rat or when I grew the type of patience I exhibited that day but God knows. She told me to calm down that he will give me the injection and she will supervise him.
Contrary to popular belief, I have visible veins, finding my veins was not an issue. This boy inserted the scalp vein into my hands, I am talking full-fledged needle and he missed the vein. I stayed calm, the brother tried again and missed it, at this point, I am convinced It was the patience of Job that had me sitting still in that pharmacy. Like a sheep for the slaughter, I offered my other hand for him to poke( yes I have a strong threshold for pain.) He was about to start his cluelessness when he was asked to change the needle as it was already blunt from too much piercing(how did he not know that.) This boy missed my veins two more times before I started shouting.
No, I don’t think you understand, Do you know what it means to insert a scalp vein into a living breathing humans hand four consecutive times to no avail? The surface of my palm had become swollen and hard, I was sweating profusely when my so-called angel told him to move aside. I want to not dislike her right now but she stood and watched as I was prosecuted by that incompetent boy or should I blame myself for sitting down on fire and calling it cool. When he saw my swollen hands, he too started sweating and instead of keeping quiet, he looked at me and said ‘’aunty you no dey do press up, it’s like you ate too much today’’
After using me to practice, he had the temerity to spew that vile? When I tell you the Holy Spirit now dwells in me, father lord! It took divine help to suppress the rush of anger that engulfed me. I didn’t say a word to him, I just looked at him and looked back at the girl. She just took the syringe, apologized, asked me if I needed a break, then she came back about 10 minutes later to give me the injections and as expected it was hitch-free.
I don’t know what the moral of this story is, but I do know you don’t get to body shame a patient or give advice especially when you are just a confused medical student and not a dietician.
Secondly, Medical students have no business treating patients, you can cry if you want but I have had bad student doctor episodes in the hospital/pharmacy more than twice to reach this conclusion.
They should just watch, learn and practice on cadaver or rabbits. Yes, I am upset. The experience I have had, range from misdiagnosis to unnecessary poking, so you might need to see the condition of my hand before trying to defend your kind. I do understand that it is not easy to be a medical student but it is also not a joke to be human. There are actual lives in your hands and I can imagine the pressure, so my advice is, if you are unsure do not go for it. Admit you are confused and let a professional do it.
If Students must treat or touch a patient then the doctor or pharmacist should be 101 per cent sure of the person. I took it lightly, another person might not.