Chika is

If I weren’t a journalist, I’d be a dancer. Presenting my body on a stage with a mystic rhythm to conjure Katherine Dunham, bending backward, leaping forward, fingers fluttering, locked tresses springing to life. If my body couldn’t give, I’d have been a musician and create sounds overlaying raw Ghanaian highlife, Jamaican dub, Sade-esque breeziness, Chaka Khan’s fire, Marvin Gaye’s consciousness, the soul of Miriam Makeba, and the elegant chaos of Art Blakey’s drum solos, and on and on and more and more. And if the music couldn’t penetrate, I’d have been an anthropologist, a real one, the kind that lives on the coasts of Tanzania with a small white boat anchored next to my small green house. My Swahili name would be something like Kanzi, Kawaida, Zuri or Zalira and when kids from Mtwara would come to visit, I’d share a bowl of coconut bean soup and lentils and ugali. And if they were ever to ask why did I have so many books in my house I’d tell them sweetly that Chimamanda Adichie is my sister from another mother and Judy Blume’s stories are the relaxing treat I crave after swallowing the delicious denseness of Ralph Ellison’s and Walter Rodney’s goodness on paper. But if I weren’t able to defy the status quo, to pack my bags and head for Tanzania, I’d have chosen to be a documentary film maker, running in the salt-scented wind to set my tripod on the beach at Goree Island before the magic hour ended. Shooting the fleeting shadows of my ancestors’ spirits, the ones who inhaled warm African air for the last time before living a life of captivity in America.  And if the cry of those dead proved too haunting, I’d then chose to spend long hours in solitude, in poetry, in the crevices of my mind’s eyes, the ones along the Turkish border where I’d lean my body against the window to watch women laughing in the marketplace below my one-bedroom apartment. Such divine solitude would naturally lead me down a cobble-stoned path to spirituality with other pilgrims and sisters.  And on that path, I’d eventually fall into the arms of God.



Thank you for visiting my blog

18 responses to “Chika is

  1. Chika thanks for commenting on spirits, camels and poetry. I have a new film on poetry its called Swahili Fighting Words check on amazon instant films. Its only $ 3.00 to watch. I love your blog and will spread the word.

  2. Hello, Chika. I admire your passion for Africa, I think it is important that the Africa communities are acknowledged to the extent that enables them to prosper and contribute to the advancement of humanity. I wish you the very best of luck in carving the path to that endeavor, and along the way, I hope we could maintain the connection as we work for the dream of a better world that I believe we both share.

    I thank you for following my blog: I hope you benefit from what I post there every Saturday.

    Thank you again, blessings and love to you ♥

  3. Greetings Chika,

    I have just stumbled across your amazing blog in some downtime and wanted to say thank you for sharing.

    You have a delicious way with words and expressing thoughts that need to be aired.

    Thank you daughter of Africa.



  4. Dear Chika
    Thank you for sharing your creativity and weaving everyday words into a masterpiece of beauty. I am inspired and feel light and free after visiting your blog.

  5. Hey sis! Love this blog and have for some time! I noticed that you had posted my “African Men Don’t do Feminists” article from my old website, well just wanted to let you know I have a new site with new content of Africa and feminism:, hope you can visit!- Stephanie

  6. Good work Chika. Good to hear you are projecting our African image and culture. I also have interest in doing so through Tourism and Culture.
    I am also from Popular Oduah family in Atani, Ogbaru Local Government

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s