Gist from kinsh

Arriving at the airport aleady gives some interesting botton about the kind of air I'm going to breath in the next one month. I wondered if it was (the film maker guy that invited me to work with his preselected casts) Djo's Influence that mounted up to making a full uniformed immigration officer to be the one that handed me my fake vaccination card that Made it possible for me to pass through without wasting so much time. He guided me like I was a VIP on a special mision until we got to the passprt control. The officer that attended to me collected my passport and the yellow form I filled in the plane, he crosschecked my totally filled passport with all sort of visas, congolese visa is the last visa that entered into my passport, so i have to make another one now. Anyway. He checked the form I filled and smiled. He asked if I spoke French I answered "oui" then he smiled again he said in French "so your profession is dance." I replied "oui je suis danseur" then we both smiled while he shook his head in disbelive I was still smilling when he added "you must be a very good dancer" I said "I think so..." He stamped my passport and proceed to meet my immiration officer that has been waiting for me, he walked me to another young man that later collected my baggage tag from me while I describe the type of bag it is, cos all I had to do was to sit in a corner and watch the over disorganized bunch of grown men and women that wrestled over baggage. I wonder if I was really in an airport or an open market for fish auction.

As I sat everything began to look real, some pungent smell of cigaret almost fell me from my seat and I tried to remember if the air hostess was not repeatedly warning in the plane that smoking and snapping were extreemely prohibited in the airport area. I coughed out discretely and only one phrase came to my mind "no one is BELOW the law" as I continue to smile over my phrase I saw another white guy joined the band of smokers and the greatest joke of the night was the guy that walked towards him to tell him that smoking was prohibited. I was filled with laughter I couldn't hold it, the poor guy was making some jest to indicate he wasn't the only one smoking, and I said to myself "is someone BELOW the law?" ahhh perharp only foriegners are, I have to be careful. Not long after then they brought my bag and waited a bit for my immigration officer to confirm to me that the car is out to pick me. I quickly stood up to join Patrick who introduced himself and we aproached the land rover parked at the car park, I remarked that outside was so big I couldn't help but to say it to Patrick who later finished the phrase I got in mind "Yes and inside is so small, you can never imagine from inside" it was like they got the land for free but had a little resources to build with.

Got home to meet Djo and Bruno in the living room of a quite cosy duplex, filled with jeeps, land rovers and maids, i was welcomed in lingala and Djo introduced me to Bruno the director of the atelier, so i was quickly served my dinner while we delibrated on how the work will go.

Day 2 in kin, i set out to watch Bruno working with guys, and also the tai chi teacher, i was trying t obe quiet as i do alwyes whenever i am in a new space, i was introduced to the guys and the encounter began quite slowly but i wasn't bothered, and before i knew it, they started asking if in know « Faustin Linyekula » who is like one of the leading voice coming from Africa in the global dance scene, i said of course i do but funny enough i have never met him personally so one on them told me he already told him about my coming, so he gave me his number, rang him around 4pm and to my disbelieve this guy was with me at 6pm, that was humble, someone that i have only read on journals, internet, watched on YouTube and other documentary films, could be this simple, i already liked him, and those who knows me knows the kind of topic i get quickly carried away with, this guy is one of my biggest reference in terms of African artiste who are not using this romantic name « Africa » in a vulgar way to get us reduced to « African artist » before we know it, we were already deep into argument and discussion on the general madness. 

I was offered a free ride because the driver that was supposed to come pick me was unable to understand our movement, so Faustin proposed to drop me, Getting home after my hang out with him and his family as well as Jean christophe and Eza possible collective, i thought it was a good idea that seems real cool to get home and just find food on the table, " ...oh my father, who art in heaven, give us this day, our daily bread different from the French fries. " it was spaghetti with vegetarian source and by the side was a small bowl of deliciousely smelling pepper source, i was feeling like an African man that i'm supposed to be, so i dipped my little spoon in it, cos deep inside of me i know, how much of an African i am, so as not to get myself disappointed but the pepper was just too hot. 

Today i understood what people try to impact on you, when they say "you will smell pepper" wow that source almost killed me, naturally i am not that guy that will go to the kitchen to pick up his food and remember to bring water along, so tonight was not in any way different, but the first spoon i placed on my hungry tongue, stroke my consciousness, spoke to my feet and i didn't know when my left hand was forcing a bottle of cold water into my cervical cord, oooppss it was like an action movie. I mean hollywood action not nollywood, the different electronic reggae fuji music that was banging in my head didn't make me hear when Bruno was repeatedly asking if i was ok, i managed to get my voice heard, because i thought that pepper has siezed my voice, so spoke so loud, « YES... YES I AM OK, » but i couldn't just lie till the end, so i added « but.. wow, this pepper is HOT » but man, i have promised myself never to waste food again, so i eat less than my stomach wants, so as to be exact for its need, so i started gulping the SPA- GHET-TI, i tried to put all my impulse and sence organ to purse, so i can dearly face the consequence when i'm done, 
Sweating like a goat even from the nose, my tongue felt swolen as if there was acid on it, water dropping from my eyes without having the feeling of crying, at a point i couldn't control the mucus dropping from my nose through my mouth, in actual fact it was like they work more than the series of cold water i have been gulping, " ...wooooow i will never try this again. "
I started feeling better but never stopped staring at my plate and thougth to myself « if someone wants to kill me, they should simply ask me to lick the remains in the plate, i quickly rushed to keep the plate in the kitchen before i get tempted to commit suicide ... lol.


its a gist so manage the typo errors...
Qudus Onikeku, reporting for bloggers and fakebookers
Stay tuned for more from kinsh.

My analyst told me...

My Analyst told me that I have ego problem, he said I need some attention, someone to probably save me from myself, the way he described it, he said i'm too much into my head, that i'm not easily led from my crazy ideas, and my tempers are just bizarre.

• I looked at him furiously, I tranquilly picked up the wooden chair I was sitting on and carefully stroke it against his shinning forehead, his glasses that were thickk enough to read my mind were broken into particles and all over the floor was filled with blood...
  

That was exactly what I got in mind for him, but I knew I wouldn't dare that, I just asked him “what's so strange if you found out that you're already a brainiac at the age of four ?”
I had a brain and that was insane, I had a dream and that was atypical.
He also refer to my ex's analysis of who she thinks I am, she said and he quotes “... he is that kind of guy that creeps upon a girl, make them feel loved and let them down when they begin to fall for him, we have been together for two years and he hardly say “I Love you” I think he also has that problem”

I picked up my phone, rang Hajarat to tell her how much I love her, miss her and promise to make the queen of my life...

My Analyst thinks he can put me in a box, so he can say “...alright this is who you are” but I get him so pissed, 'cos my complexity is not just making his job easy. I asked again “what will you do if you have a temperament that will not just let you be, I mean one that could just turn your five year old dreams of BLUE to RED in just one hour? A temperament that doesn't conform to any written rule, culture, nation, notion, religion, philosophy, profession etc. One that makes an African feel American at times when in Europe, or feels European when in America and something else when in Africa, one that makes a dancer wear the cap of a circus artiste, take up the job of a writer and critiquing, in the next moment making documentary film and writing poetry and making street art, and taking up the expertees of a sociologist and preaching the gospel of Islam, quoting Fela Kuti and the bible, and spends all day listening to Bob Marley and Obesere while socializing on facebook and soliloquise on the stage. Yet trying so hard to remain simple, 'cos i'm in the process of establishing my truth, accuracy and validation of something that circulates around my existence which i can never verify if it is right or wrong".

My analyst will not give up, 'cos he need to authenticate his hard earned degrees, my analyst thought he was accessing a young man who is pretending to know what he wants. NO, that's where he got it all wrong, because one thing I know is that I am a successful young man that doesn't know precisely what he wants but doing all he can to reject completely those things he doesn't want.

My Analyst told me I got an ego problem, I sat back, I was tranquil, fixed my gaze on him and I see smiles forcing their way out of my upper lips, I watch his lips dangle with passions like a performer of rap music, but this is a full grown man that knows his onion, meanwhile, I was long gone in my world of thoughts, I feel so high, I even touch the sky...