Wednesday, January 26, 2011

Occupational Hazards



Sweet sleep, funny dream, la la land. Slowly, I wake up, smiling inwards as my body emerges from a well rested place. My eyes open and for the first instant, I am not sure where I am.
Eyes dart to the windows and at the faint hint of daylight I PANIC!!
Suddenly, thoughts swarm in my head; "What day is it?", "Is it Friday?", "No! I can only remember a Thursday". "It's got to be Friday and I've overslept!!" "The driver and Arthur have come and tried to reach me, but I switched my phone off and now they've left me & I've missed work and I'm in BIG trouble!!! Oh my goodness!!!!" My pulse increases and I feel like I would be sick. Then it hits me.

I do not have a complete memory of Thursday (and I don't happen to be friends with 'the bottle'), so there was a gap between Thursday afternoon when I slept off on my Sidney Sheldon emotional escape and Thursday night's off-to-bed-routine (if I'm honest about having one)?

It HAD to be Thursday evening! As I reach for my little secretary, the one who schedules appointments and takes your e-mails, twitter and face book messages, I say a short prayer in my mind. As I reach for the blackberry, it all comes back to me. I had gone to bed hungry, deciding to eat after my nap.

It takes my body only 2 seconds to realize it's still Thursday evening, and what turned out to be such sweet sleep had toyed with my brain.
......and 15 minutes for the shock to wear out.

Now, my job requires a very early start. I remember telling my Mother in that idealistic attitude and all-knowing tone of mine; "I don't like nine to five jobs. I would never take a job that makes me get out of bed before 5.30".... Now, a few years later, though I have quit the 9-5 train, I do wake up at 4am every day to resume work at 5am. My body has lost ownership of her routine and the 'little secretary' has taken over. Alarms here, notes and reminders there.

A minute version of paranoia has hit me and my prevailing thoughts are not be late for work, trying not to keep Arthur (my co-host on the Morning Drive) and the driver waiting when they come to pick me up, the fact that it would be fatal to oversleep, what to do for my listeners.....the list is endless. In the end, I under-sleep and sometimes get cranky.
I've learnt to perform without my beauty sleep and I'm really not doing badly.

However, in spite of these hazards I find that I'd rather wake up at 3.48am to do a job that I love, than wake up at 7.30am to one I endure.


Lesson: Nothing is ever totally wrong. Live life, love it and leave a legacy.

Love ya, Muah!!

Monday, January 24, 2011

I know I should have started my first post of the year with a big HAPPY NEW YEAR!!! but I'm sorry to break the norm. I have a thoughtful idea for that, coming to you shortly.
However, I do wish you all a wonderful year though, and I really love you.
God bless you richly!

2010 was one heck of a year for me. I will not talk about the many changes and transitions i went through that year.....Yet. I'd rather recall one moment of "great" (forgive what may appear cocky) inspiration. I didn't feel confident about this work, but a few respected creatives have read this poem and encouraged me to publish it.

May/June 2010, on my previous job, one that I totally loved!!! we were planning a film forum for women. Headline was:
"AFRICAN WOMEN'S DEVELOPMENT FUND AND LUFODO
ACDEMY OF PERFORMING ARTS PRESENT: AFRICAN WOMEN IN FILM FORUM.
THEME -NOLLYWOOD: WOMEN AND THE DYNAMICS OF REPRESENTATION".

We had guests from around the world. Besides the preparing the budget et al, part of my job was to contact them for travel details, pictures and profiles for the brochure. One of the speakers was South African based film maker/actor, Akin Omotosho whose photograph inspired me to high levels.


The picture was of a man facing the camera (of course), and backing an empty theatre. The rows of empty seats and that hard wooden stage floor spoke to me! I saw Omoye on that stage, shoes clicking, voice vibrating, pacing, everyone listening to me.
What that thought birthed was.......


LISTEN

listen...
footsteps, walking towards you.
throngs of feet travelling a long journey.
needing a resting place; a stool, a mat, a stone.

listen...
heartbeats reaching out to you.
torrents of dreams and aspirations, depending on you.
searching for guidance, leading, direction.

listen...
Hear the sounds from distant lands
Pay attention to the sound of the wind.
Bringing their cries with it.

Listen!

No one will stop talking if you don't listen.
Words will keep flowing from our mouths, our hearts, in our tears, through our anguish, in pain, in our disappointment, in sorrow, in death! WORDS!

Mere words you say? (Chuckle)

Oh, but you will listen.
'Cause when you're talking to your clan of detractors and distractions, you will hear.
While you're dancing at your yacht parties and orgies,
You will hear.
At your mock meetings and false fora,
You will be hearing our voices. Prodding you, urging you, calling you.... LIAR!

When you dine with you wives,
You'll hear our widows wailing.
When you chat with your children,
You will hear our orphans, sniffing (sniff). Silently, steadily.
When you sleep, you will hear the sounds of dissent, seeping through your ears into your subconscious.

And until you listen, we will never stop talking...
Until the sound of our voices produce words...
And our words form beings.
Then our beings will become bodies...
And the bodies will have soul...
The soul of the body will have heart...
A heart that fears nothing but the inability to do what's right.
He will not fear you; she will not tremble at your voice, these sounds of our voices.

And one day, when they multiply, they will come knocking, beating down your door, demanding an explanation; asking you,
Sir, Ma'am. Why. Don't. You.... Listen?



- Omoye Uzamere.
June 2010.