gone gena

Going home for Gena armed with a to-do-list having 41 things on it. Well, first on the list was “make a to-do-list”, which I managed to cross out without delay, and with an immense sense of self-satisfaction. The stuff in there is diverse; some I have to do before I leave, and the others, while in Addis Abeba: taking the mobile charger home, drinking filter Tela in exhibition center, buying return tickets before they are sold out, lidet, leqso, herbals from Ariti, coffee from Robera, leaving keys with people, find a quote that has to do with gout, wezete wezete.

The beauty of to-do-lists lies not only in their service as useful reminders (of sometimes useless stuff) but also in the ease with which one can compose them. A piece of paper and a pen in one’s pocket is all what it takes.

I’ll tell you what is difficult to compose –“a done-list”. Lives are spent making an endless list of wishes, needs, desires, … , all the while paying little or no attention to the things that have been achieved, to the things that really matter, to Providence.

I know that instead of counting my blessings, kicking back and enjoying the holiday, my mind and body will be running hither and thither, trying to cross out an additional thing from the list. However, trite as it may seem, the fact that I am going back home to a family that, to borrow an expression from Arrow of God, is “quiet” , is top of my done-list, and by miles too.


And oh, asina bel asina genaye 🙂

an experiment (gone horribly wrong)

Wake up in the morning and send a text to six of my siblings and friends -“the best day ever!”
Their replies: “why?”; “what’s new?”; “are you talking about yesterday or …?”
My replies: can’t remember; they are in the inboxes of the respective people. But they are to the effect of “just because”; “every new day is the best day ever’’; “she is sleeping right next to me, do you want to talk to her? ¡”
One of them even goes  as far as to insinuate “zare qenu des sil bilew endemitsfut aynet mehonu new? ¡”, belittling my little “original” idea.
My response: “Licho!!!!!!!!”
Another one suggests that I am on yeBahir Dar CHat

Then a plate full of my breakfast tumbles over the table. Ever mindful of hygiene, I eat that part of the food which has not touched the ground (microbes hanging on for dear life and shit)
I text the same people again “shit has went down; but it still is the best day ever!”
Them: “sorry, but it does not look that way!”; “dude, slow down!”
Next morning
My glasses get entangled in the straps  of my apron and I am left to rue why I did not take my glasses off before wearing the apron -like I usually do.
The same people are bombarded with a message of the same tone: “my glasses are broken. but it still is the best day ever!”
But my conviction is wavering by then; the letters of my texts are all wavy.
The people: “you on drugs?!”; condolences; taunts; suggestions of optometrists.
No, I am on life, baby!
Checked out the shops, writing this post wearing glasses smeared with Amir.

Spent the day recounting this tale, with special guest appearances from  anecdotes such as,  my unrequited first grade (in both senses of the word) crush on the ninth grader friend of my sister’s; and how it went on to  adversely affect  my love life for years to come; and how I ended up cooking scrambled eggs for myself  (I would like to believe that I am a feminist btw), my uniform breaking my glasses in the process; and how the name of my crush is Mestawot

I just hope that my ordeals have ended, at least for the time being. Assuming bad things (and good things) come in threes, that’s  three mishaps on the trot, counting the shoes on fire.


the declaration


Let it come hither

If it so desires

At this moment to be free

My whole being aspires

Grab what it can of eternity

Let beauty course through my veins

No I will not help nature

Take its course

Be an accomplice

To its craze, its haste

To everyone their due

Insanity to the world

To the fools

Peace to me, oh sweet peace!

Truth of many a  hue

So, let it salivate from afar, anear, wherever

Stake a claim

Dole out promises fulfilled past

Like it got it all figured out

Here I will be sitting

Spirits and middle finger up

As if it did not cast a long shadow

Its clout meant naught

And oh, should it insist

On a council, I wonder

So please its heart

Would it deign to show its face?

How about the twenty second of never?

Said place

Said attitude

Come get me!






                                                                                         Fuck it, I am hungry!


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