Wednesday, May 12, 2010


today is the first day of my life. After today i dont exist. Yesterday didnt happen i make money and i give the money back.

Monday, May 10, 2010

Finding Yourself

Abebe, a young man, walks alone on his way to Lagos, a sprawling megalopolis. Its slums rival those of any major city. It is where those who have failed must go. Without land they travel here for work. He set off on foot two days ago from his village of Forcados to the south of Lagos. His father’s farm was taken by the bank when he couldn’t pay off his debt. Abebe has to go find work in the city because there is nothing back home. Today we find him on a lonely dirt road splitting a lush rainforest.

“I am a man. I am free.” I must remind myself of this because I do not feel free. I walk, not for me but for my mother, father, and brothers. They need me. I am not free, so I walk and big trucks roar by blasting strange music. They carry men and goods. White fluff flies off as they speed by. It is cotton. As I walk, I wonder, where they are going in such a hurry. To my left a dirt road cuts through the serenity of the forest. From the end of the road a truck appears. It has been on the alive for decades. The chipped paint reveals a rusting body, and the old engine rumbles noisily. I notice this as it barrels towards me, but lost in thought, I forget that I am in the middle of his road. He only honks once when he is near. Shaken from my mental trance, I dive sideways, narrowly missing his bumper.

“Fuck you!” I yell viciously as I lie on the dirt, but he is gone. All I see is the back of the truck which reads Nike. In that moment, the forest becomes quiet, monkeys no longer screech and the birds do not sing. Far off I hear sorrow. A woman shrieks in agony.

“What is this?” I say aloud. It haunts me; I must know. So I enter.

Abebe walks down the road, but quickly realizes that he will be seen. A master of the forest he presses into the thicket and stealthily maneuvers over vines branches and shrubs. He follows close to the road but not close enough to be seen. Half an hour later he arrives at a vast clearing. A large cotton farm is nestled into the forest. Behind it lie endless hills of dirt. It once was forest, but the land was needed for agriculture. Cotton famously destroys the soil, so farmers are forced to keep pushing further and further into the forest. Down in the farm a group of men and women pick cotton. A big man holding a stick supervises their work. Exhausted by heat and the work, a woman collapses. The supervisor watches and yells. She just lies there motionless. He walks to her and yelles louder. Trembling she pushes up and manages to stand but sways weakly like a sprout powerless to the wind. He hands her his water bottle and she drinks. Then he points at the cotton. She begins working, but at a gingerly pace. He yells louder, but she tries to ignore him. He raises his stick and drops it down on her shoulder. She falls hard. He lifts his stick again and drops it on her back again and again. She is too weak to even moan in agony. When he finally tires he looks down. Breathing heavily he spits on her and walks away. A fire burns in Abebe’s eyes as he watches from a safe distance. In his mind he traveles back to his childhood…

“Mama?” I said.

“Yes, Abebe” she said. She was cooking fufu from yams for dinner. I walked to her, bumping my cheek to her thigh, caressing my head against her soft dress.

“Where is Papa? He did not work the farm today?” I asked.

“I do not know. He said he had business in town today. Now go wash and ready yourself for dinner.” With a warm smile on her face she nodded me away.

I ran to the well, which stands on the opposite side of our land. I pumped water out onto a bowl then washed my dusty face, and refreshed my body. As I walk home, I sang a song that I learned in school. As I entered the house I saw Papa. He was talking to Mama in a sorry tone.

“I cannot get the seeds. The bank will not give me another loan.” He said looking down with a defeated tone.

“It will be alright. We still have some harvest from last year and we will make due.” said Mama.

“We are going to lose this land,” said Papa as he stumbled towards my mother.

“You’re drunk. We do not have the money for food and you’re getting drunk. What are you thinking?” said Mama angrily.

“Shut your mouth. Do not talk like that to me or…” he raised his voice as he stood above her menacingly.

“Or what? Think of your family for once.” Says my Mama. Papa could no longer restrain himself. He reached back like a pimp and struck Mama across her cheek. She fell and Papa jumped on her. With one hand he held her down and with the other he punched her again and again. I could see that he was crying.

“I am,” he uttered under his breath. Realizing what he just did he stood and looked around, searching. She lay bloody and whimpering. Papa walked to the door where I had stood watching. His eyes were sorry and his frame resembled that of a shamed boy. I was frightened thinking I was next, but he only knelt before me and said, “Never grow up.” I looked down. I could not look at him. He left us and did not return for two days…

“Not again,” I say as I look down at the workers being herded into a stable. They carry their fallen worker with them. I will wait until it is dark and I will let them out, but now I must wait.

There is only one world government, the free market. It rules every country on every continent like no government ever could, and calls for the complete commoditization of resources. Humanity is not immune; it must be commoditized. As global population nears 7 billion, every second of every day becomes a new global population record. The free market dictates that when supply exceeds demand the value of human life must drop. It is reality; it is our world, and slavery is the logical conclusion.

To own a human being is to strip that being of his or her humanity. It is what happened to the people being herded into a stable like cattle. They are the property of the Master.

“Do you want a job? Get on the truck.” he said. He gives them work, but takes their freedom. All countries have laws prohibit slavery, but money knows no laws. The police is not paid enough to care, so they accept bribes and look the other way.

I climb the fence without being seen. Once at the stable where they are held, I go to the door, but it is locked. I do not have the tools to let them free, and nothing around here will help me. I must break into the house.

From the shadows a dark barks and it is getting closer, then is see a big black dog running at me. He tackles me down, but I am ready for him. His jaws just miss my hand. With my knife in hand I stab at him blindly before he can kill me. His body goes limp.

“I am sorry, you left me with no options.” I say quietly, then toss him off and run into the dark. The master is surely awoken. I must hide.

As Abebe disappears into shadows, the door to the master’s house bursts open. He emerges holding a shotgun wearing only basketball shorts. A beastly man, he walks to the stable and checks the lock.

He yells “What happened?” They do not answer so he surveys the scene, and sees his dog is lying in a pool of blood. The Master runs to his friend. He kneels to examine the body. Touching the puncture wound, he says “Goodbye, my friend. Out of the shadows runs Abebe toward the master.

My knee crashes into the Master’s ear. The shock separates him from his gun, but fazes him little. He stands quickly ready to break me. He is twice my size, but I am fast. With his lumbering arm he grabs for me, but I do not let him. I am slick from sweat and he cannot hold me easily, but he is persistent. Wildly, he swings for me. With his right fist he hits my chest and knocks me silly. He is ruthless. While I try to recover he reaches for my forearm and grips it with the force of a gorilla. He begins pulling me toward him and swinging like a madman. Desperately I bite the hand that grips me. I bite down hard but he keeps wailing. A little harder, I can feel the blood oozing and finally he lets me go. I run off, but I do not notice that he is now right next to his gun. Then the blast from the shotgun rips though the night. Am I dead? I stop, frozen.

Threateningly he barks “Turn around.” I do it obediently. He says “What are you doing here you stupid boy?”

“Let them go. You have no right to them,” I say. My time here is ending and I can do no more to help them or myself.

“Ha. You really are stupid. But you are well built and ready for work. You will join them, slave.” Then I hear a hollow thump. The giant man falls unconscious and behind him there stands a boy of about thirteen years holding a thick metal pipe.

“Thank you,” he says. “My name is Kamau. We saw you throw the keys at our cage when you ran at the man. When they were able to break free they all ran away. I almost left too.” He looks down almost ashamed, but I am relieved.

Abebe and Kamau each grabbed hold of a leg to dragged the former Master to his new home. They locked his door and entered his old house. The two ransacked the house taking the Master’s most precious property. Abebe will one day realize how easily he took on his new role as master. He will see how power corrupted immediately after having been the victim and he will feel shame for being human.

“The morning is about to break. We should go, this place will not be safe much longer.” I say. He nods and we walk out. The former master is awake. He shakes his cage like a deranged criminal.

“You little shit. I will find you both and have your heads for dinner.” he barks. I look at him and smile.

“My name is Abebe, and I am your master. Would you like to die?” I say to him. He spits at me then goes to the far end of his cell.

We leave him there alone and walk back through the dirt road from which I came. Once we arrive at the main road Kamau turns to me and says.

“I will go visit my family. They live in Warri to the south.”

“I am on my way to Lagos, my home was taken from my family, and I must find work.” I say. I extend my hand. He shakes it and says goodbye. Alone again, I walk to my new home repeating, ” I am a man. I am free.” I must keep my sanity.

Sunday, May 9, 2010


Slavery belongs to our past, but in a free market system. The role of the worker is relegated to that of a slave. Slavery is alive and well in our so called free market. (raj patel) And why is this? Why do we thrive while they toil. Why must we think that we are winning when the truth is that we lose our soul with every purchase. Greed is good. Life is replaceable. The worker means nothing and we will accept this because we win. Or so we think. We are slaves just like them. We awake work and die. We mean nothing to them


This is going to be me new outlet for ideas art and all the rest of that stuff.