February 18, 2014 § Leave a comment
The anecdotes multiply—to borrow from the annoying Billy Collins—like “more guppies crowding the fish tank, more baby rabbits hopping out of their mothers into the dewy grass.”
My good friend Keguro used the money for his one way ticket to buy his first Mac computer on which, if I am not mistaken, he wrote his dissertation—allow me to get away with this truncated way of telling. My money for a one way ticket became tuition for my last quarter at uni. Another time I believe my one way ticket became first and last month’s rent plus deposit for a new apartment. And yet another time it went to a family emergency I cannot now recall, because forgetting is also a kind of intimacy.
So now I am thinking of what money for a one way ticket can become. Can it become this, or that, and how much of it? And this is a detour on the path to thinking about living in ways that do not present themselves as inevitable.
February 17, 2014 § 1 Comment
The idea was to envision ways of living that do not seem inevitable. Because “inevitable” is the space I have survived in since godknowswhen. And I know very well that surviving is not thriving, even as “we” tend to conflate the two. (Is it not instructive that when one asks Kenyans how they are doing they often say “I am surviving”?)
I was not under the illusion that it would be easy. Which is to say it is proving to be difficult. And I am not sure it is that adage about old dogs and new tricks. Thank god it is nothing aphoristic like that. (I hate aphorisms; Kenyans love them)
Let me return.
What I wanted was to practice what John Stuart Mill called “experiments in living.” Or, following Fanon, I wanted to introduce inventions into existence.
And perhaps there will be time. Or, because I am sometimes “African,” there will be space.