I’m A Human Diamond
Keeping up with PURFECT ^ ESCAPE
LINGUA FRANCA_ CAMEROONWORD - 'Cut-seba' _______________________________________________________ Meaning - used to describe the act of 'not' having a full body wash. It is when someone washes specific body parts to give an appearance of looking clean and tidy when actually they haven't had a proper bath. It is usually due to water shortages, cold weather or personal choice for quickie hygiene. 99.9% of people have cut seba full stop. _______________________________________________________ DD
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Previously on Purfect^Escape
EDUCATION IS INHERENT _ OWN IT
A few facts from Cameroon Education - it's not given us the best pro-active standards -did not teach us to question authority - taught us respect of elderly and stature instead of mutual understanding - taught us to take any treatment and not show weakness in the name of respect As terrible as all that may end up looking - the fact is, on the surface you may struggle but overall you are basically always overqualified. Never underestimate the power of education Be educated - do not give up - Ever
- PART 1 ‘FLOWER POWER’ 26th May 2017
- Dear Diary 5 30th April 2017
- Dear Diary 4 4th December 2016
- DEAR DIARY 3 – UNEARTH 4th November 2016
- 300 Kegels a day – women isn’t that too much exercise? 26th October 2016
- Remember Stepanie Linus’ baby – Maxwell? well he is 1 already! Amasome bday bash pics! 26th October 2016
- A famous African feminist fronts a global make-up campaign and wows! 26th October 2016
- Dear Diary 2 – Define A greater Sin! 10th October 2016
- Un Genre Un Genre – lands a new flying epidemic in Cameroon Music Industry 5th October 2016
- Dear Diary 1 30th September 2016
MEN's CAREER MATTERS
PURFECT ^ ESCAPE BEATZ
Tag Archives: African stories
‘When Love Blossom’
“After the tattoo, they had shared their first kiss by the mall entrance, she could never shake off how shy she’d been after that”
Students gambolled about the schoolyard like bees chasing and spreading pollen in the heart of the dry season, a season hotter and dustier up north than most parts of Cameroon. The earth parched and cracked like it hadn’t seen water for decades. The plants were almost non-existent and water from open taps ran so hot they needed to be collected and cooled under shades or Calabashes. A cool day seemed like a shockwave had hit the ripple of the sun’s continuum throwing the heat delicately out of pattern and in that slight space in the sun’s continuum, cold air brushed over the town like a kiss from the wind, which only happened once in a month throughout the dry season.
Maimuna knew better not to dirty her uniforms or become too sweaty, from a tender age, looking a hot dusty mess had always been a rebuffing trigger from her mum who did the laundry, as Maimuna grew older she became conscious of what the hot weather meant for her teenage looks. She sometimes remembered her mum’s voice echoing her disapproval of her dirty dusty feet and sweaty gown armpits referring to her as ‘Mrs ganakoh’ a title for the wives of cattle nomads. These days the most her mum did was look at her, sigh with disapproval on anything remotely close to dusty shoes and sweaty armpits. Her mum still managed to behave like she did the laundry when at the age of fifteen the maids did most of her washing except for her undergarments.
May’s dad was a top ranking military general who had worked in many parts of the country, but loved the North the most, he never took up the Muslim religion but enjoyed the organised ways in which the men, women and children religiously prayed, he always remarked that crimes were a lot less in this part of the country than anywhere else because the repercussions were religiously linked and dire. Being the only English general in town he could speak some of the Fulani tongues plus French, this was a respectful added bonus which worked in his favour politically and social stature wise, the lifestyle and culture up north had a complimenting ego massaging effect on him you could tell from the almost always satisfactory grin he wore with a tinge of arrogance.
POSTED IN: African Fiction, African stories, Cameroon Fiction, DOROTHY DIAMOND, DorothyDiamond, PurfectEscape, Stories unfold, Upcoming Writers
Lightning Strikes Twice
DEAR DIARY 1 HERE
DEAR DIARY 2 HERE
DEAR DIARY 3 HERE
DEAR DIARY 4 HERE
The wedding and all ensuing rights and festivities passed so quickly. Dina and Tate honeymooned in the coast of Kribi in Cameroons most buoyant and flourishing tourist beach city with its exceedingly elaborate beautiful sea view resorts… It was nice to just be able to live in the moment. A time and place, that encapsulated the purest and best of all their first spousal memories, the beginning of their lives together as a couple, she bearing his name and he wearing a contented smirk on his face from dusk till dawn.
Dinah found herself constantly humming to “This is why I love you”, she felt like for the first time in a long while she’d found love again. Her dad was her first love, the most loving man she had known her entire life, so much so that leaving home as a teenager left a debilitating dent in her emotions, she felt like not seeing her dad each day would kill her… So she was grateful for all the times he’d visited, even when her memory mélange with thoughts of him and her best friend tumbling in her sheets or elsewhere resurfaced, she quickly shook it off saying to her brain “not that, not now – never”…. that spec of flaw was not enough to taint her dad’s memory.
He was a good man and a great father.
Honeymoon time together was a culmination of love, lust, fear and apprehension for what the future held. Bless! Tate was an expert emotional harness, he made sure that the days were filled with just about the right balance of futuristic plans and living in the moment he was a spontaneous lover and that attracted Dinah to him from the moment they had shared their first kiss. When it came to his feelings for Dinah he could forgo all else and just do what it took to be with her or make her happy.
Their days were filled with seaside disposition, impulsive shenanigans coupled with loads of restful relaxing sun soaking layabouts.
Tate studied her silhouette as she lay on the beach mat, loving every streak of sweat shimmering on her bare body and the sun kissing her skin, he was a little jealous of anything that made such all-encompassing contact with Dinah, he wanted to be that sun that’s engulfed every part of her bare body in the open with no limitations, the competition between him and the sun was rife, it was a lost battle as he had restrictions while in public, but in the confines of their solstice, that body was he’s too tender and knead to his heart’s desire, he reminded her how blessed he was to have her and so too did she in words spoken and unspoken… A conversation wrought of love… Pure true and new…in just an eye contact they comfortably spoke to each other and loved each other harder.
The days went by so quick they winded down their stay making actionable immediate plans to be together soonest in one place and they’d agreed that will be Paris. There was no denying that Tate’s career was a lot stable while Dinah was vertically stretching into her role as a wife.
POSTED IN: African Fiction, African stories, Cameroon Fiction, DOROTHY DIAMOND, Upcoming Writers
DEAR DIARY 1 HERE
DEAR DIARY 2 HERE
DEAR DIARY 3 HERE
Destiny is Pregnant – SECRETS
“Hello Dinah when are you coming back – precisely?”
“I’ll be there in exactly 7 days why” – asked Dinah, quite sleepy and sore from the activities of the night before.
“There is something I need to show you ASAP – the police have returned some of Mel’s belongings and I… I… I feel like we errrrmmmm … should sit down and talk through some of the things I have had a chance to peruse” said Catherine holding back the tension and exasperation in her spirit to scream down the receiver, her hands were shaking.
“What? Is there anything you’d like to talk me through on this call right now? I am disillusioned by the fact that we cannot tell for sure who this guy was and why their split had to drive her to such a tragic end, who is he? where is he based? is he someone we should know or already knew, and why did it take the police this long to say anything or just return her stuff?
“Di, stop with all the questions, there is so much I want to tell you right now I just can bear it, I am shaking, I am uncontrollable, I want to wake Mel up to answer some of the questions herself, I am completely berserk with anger and writhing in pain and confusion, they didn’t split Dinah”
“They didn’t, so what did they do, what happened”
“No, it wasn’t a split” responded Catherine
“So, what happened, tell me and don’t dare go monosyllabic on me, it’s not helping my heart-rate right here and now – please “
“She found out he was ‘married’ Dinah, or knew he was married, they actually got along well in this secret thing but unfortunately he died”
“OMG he died – when how why didn’t she say anything” Dinah asked feeling a stab in her heart for the pain her friend could have endured in silence losing someone so special.
“Errmmmmmm, promise me you’d calm down and do not say a word till you get here?”
“Why, I dare not, she was my best friend, she was our friend our sister we had each other’s back”
“Yes, we did, which is why this revelation is revolting, I feel like she was selfish keeping it away from us or from me or even indulging in the act in the first place, I do not get the attraction, was it the money or the lifestyle – what could have pushed her to find herself unable to detangle and distinguish right from wrong to this extent … she was our best friend”
“Oh no! – Catherine, hang on, don’t be too harsh to condemn her, you know how she always felt judged and scrutinised by us especially you maybe she had a good reason to keep this private. Plus you don’t speak evil about the dead” Said Dinah defensively to Catherine
“Yes, Dinah I am always the judgemental one, right? the rubble-rouser and she was the perfect little miss sunshine, right? – well, how about the fact that the mystery man we never got to meet was your dad? Mel was having an affair with your dad and she was pregnant for him before he died. I’m sorry babe’s but it’s all here in her diary”
Dinah’s shock was so surreal she burst out laughing… Sitting upright on Tate’s bed she pushed the covers away as the heat was suddenly rushing from her legs into her face… Catherine was prank-prone but this was out of the ordinary…
Catherine’s voice echoing something made her sit still and listened…
“Justin was the best thing that could ever happen to me at the wrong time, he was caring handsome kind and very passionate. In his arms, I found a certain kind of peace and calm that assuage the guilt of him being the father of my best friend, I may never be able to tell the world this is his child but I can live with the fact that he loves every fibre of me and is making every effort to make sure I am happy and feel loved. The world can now stop rotating around any orbit for all I care – I love this man”
“Are you there Di, that is an excerpt from one of the pages and this one is better than some of the rated 18+ ones I have read, that is your Miss sunshine – Catherine added upset and spiteful.
What befuddled Dinah even more was that Catherine didn’t seem to be laughing or giving any clues of this being a prank – her tone was bullish and angry, she was blatant blunt and upset.
Finally, Dinah found her voice again and asked “Catherine who else have you told about this?”
“No one of-fucking-course, I have not been able to sleep since reading most of it last night… Did you have any incline at all?
“Of course, not – I probably would have killed her myself. Coincidence never rang a bell but if you remember correctly, all of the times my dad was in Europe she was always travelling and couldn’t meet him, maybe they had other plans to make sure they were never seen together? They must have hidden this really well.”
“Sure thing, they had other plans and she sometimes never travelled she was just locked in a 7-star hotel somewhere in the city” stated Catherine Dinah could taste the sarcasm in her voice and did not blame her one bit.
“Be candid with me Catherine, did my dad strike you as that kind of man?” Dinah asked Catherine looking for any clues that there must have been a certain give away in her dad’s persona that emanated such a man – the type she couldn’t stand!
“What kind of man? The type who dates his daughter’s best friends, Errmmmmmm no, no man strikes anyone like that until they make the forbidden request, some men are absolute “skunklemen” skunks and gentlemen combined – you cannot judge such by their looks and appearance, in that one turn of their literal tails, their scent engulfs the situation like now.
“Fact is, your dad was a charismatic metro man and I could see why Mel fell for him” she finalised with a suspicious unnoticed giveaway husk in her voice.
“Meaning?” Asked Dinah picking a subtle jealous and lustful tone underneath Catherine’s utterance which made her last remark rather out of place.
“No-no I just mean Daddy Justin had swag – Rest his soul”
I wonder if my mum knew about this… if not I’ll make sure she does because I cannot see myself keeping this… It’s too much… It’s overwhelming, how could they, when did this even happen right underneath my nose and I could barely pick up any signs, they betrayed us all.
A text message signal ended her emotional rampage and she looked at her screen and the message summary showed it was from her mother, she dragged the full text and it read
“Hey Di, please come home as soon as you get this message we need to talk, it is PERTINENT that you know you cannot be with Tate, as a matter of urgency please come home ASAP you read this, there is something I need to tell you, I’ll explain when you get here. Xx “
Her mums text message hit her like lightning bolt, she was not done dealing with Catherine’s revelations about her late friend Mel and her late father, now she had to hear her mum broke her heart.
Scenes of her entangled in Tate’s sheets last night, throes of passion, enthralled in his person and all pushed the boundaries of her mental tolerance and she burst into tears, Catherine didn’t soothe or console her because she too was as shocked at her end of the phone not knowing what double whammy just hit Dinah.
The phone fell onto bed as her emotions merged into something terrible sadistic, pathetic self-pity, she was ruined, and didn’t see herself fighting over Tate with whatever her mum wanted to say, she just wanted to go back to her work and life now the UK, her tears exploded, she drained her pain through her eyes and poured her heart out as her body shook in Tate’s bed, she drew the sheets up close as her body expressed the pain in convulsing sobs deep down Tate’s pillow, only this time she was devastated unlike last night when her sobs into the pillow were of pure joy and ecstasy and ‘YES’ to everything that Tate demanded.
POSTED IN: African Fiction, African stories, African writers, fiction stories, West African writer