Afrosays to me

…random excerpts from my communions with the AfroMuse

Solomon’s Mathematics October 11, 2010

Filed under: Scenic — afrosays @ 9:41 pm
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The goddess thought to alleviate me of some measure of my loneliness and sent me a new friend.

The good thing about new friends is that you don’t get to fight till further notice which is usually a long time away.

The other good thing is that both of you are still curious about each others’ company – That rocks.

Lemme beat this gong SHARP SHARP so i can get back to my friend who’d listen honestly when AfroSays:

I can't remember 7x6

“Honey, slow down!!!”
I revved up the engine and hastily encouraged the four wheel drive straight towards the massive pool of water. I created a five feet high splash more beautiful than a hummer advertisement. I then laughed out loud in capital letters.
Stella was furious. She was torn between giving me a brutal tongue lashing and giving me a brutal tongue lashing and she was having a hard time summoning her floetry.
“Daddy, why did you splash water on that man?”
Crap! I had forgotten my teenagers were in the car. I looked back to find my son with a questioning look in his eyes. I shouldn’t have named him Goody. I quickly shifted my gaze to the left to find his more sinister sister looking through the windshield and laughing at the victim of my joy trip. She reminded me of me.
If I explained to her, she definitely would understand.
She wasn’t as great at school work as my holy-holy, Goody-two-shoes of a son so she would most definitely understand.
She would understand why I was excessively mean to anyone who brought back the memory of Mr Solomon’s arithmetic classes.
She would understand my childish bitterness at a man that had served cruelty to me in take-home Ghana-must-go bags of pain everyday simply because I could not get past the five times table.
She would understand why I never caned her or her brother, even when I caught her smoking behind the house, why I always had Stella mete out the judgment.
She would understand why I would never will get over the memory of Mr Solomon becoming my home lesson tutor at his own suggestion, how I hated the sight of his bald head shining under the sun as he approached ominously from a distance, how he wore the same black uniform everyday to establish his absolute ‘evilness’, how I hated his Hitler-like facial rag, how he made sure to replenish my Ghana-must-go bags of pain at home if I forgot to act twisted in remembrance of the caning sessions from school.
How I hated his svelte sidekick, the black-taped, cigarette-thin, Pankere-specie, weapon of maths destruction, Mrs Pepper, the love of his life.
I think she’d understand how I couldn’t let the all-black everything, cane-carrying, bald man on the sidewalk continue his life in peace. Even though I don’t know him, I’d have run over him if I could, I’d have been to happy to spare some kids the nightmares I’m still paying a shrink to cure me of.
No, she goes to a fancy private school, she won’t understand, No one would.
Maybe I might need to see my shrink immediately after this episode, but screw everyone else, I’m reversing!
I’m coming for you again, similar Mr. Solomon!

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