wokeupwakandaninpariscirca2008

[wokeupwakandaninpariscirca2008]

As eclectic as my music tastes can be, love me some #michaeljackson as I love #georgemichael , but there has never been an album or a music that shook me as much as #themiseducationoflaurynhill has. #laurynhill was already famous in France thanks to #thefugees and #sisteract2 . Every girl I knew copied her hairstyles, fashions and whatnot, every aspiring singer wanted to be like her. The album #themiseducationoflaurynhill became something else. Hits after hits on the radio, everybody awaiting impatiently for the next video, the next beat, the next words of wisdom... For me, that album took a different meaning: it was Enlightenment in its truest form. I remember listening to #everythingiseverything while I was reading #cheikhantadiop . Back then, I was still in high school and started arguing with my history teacher as I felt like the little info we were taught about African and black history was biaised and groundless. With #doowoop I felt emboldened - all about girl power. #lostones gave me hopes where fake friendships were concerned. #forgivethemfather was my great reintro to spirituality. This was the last album I ever bought. There is no other album I can listen in full without skipping tracks. It spoke and speaks to me at so many levels. There has always been more to it than the music; there is a message, a journey, teachings and all. I long for another album/artist to come along with an album/attitude that will leave an indelibile mark on my soul. Thank you #laurynhill

[wokeupwakandaninpariscirca2008]

"Bom Bom Bom, Bom, Bom, Bom Boom, We are growing higher, higher, higher and higher"... For anyone who has seen the timeless masterpiece that was/is #shakazulu the 80ies series with the mesmerising #henricélé embodying one of #southafrica 's most memorable warrior-king, the title song was/is just the GOAT. "We are Growing". Nothing more to add. I did not see #shakazulu on its original release, I saw it as a teenager through reruns on "Arte, the French-German channel that used to broadcast old series and documentaries. I think it was the year #nelsonmandela became president of South Africa. I saw it again a decade later, when #nelsonmandela decided to retire from public life and he was on of #times100 . I remember few things from watching #shakazulu : #margaretsingana song, #henricélé performance and the gory scenes with the witch. What I did next was to do some research about the ancient/present tribes in #southafrica . End up discovering the #khoisan . I also started comparing the musical trajectories of #margaretsingana and mama Africa herself #miriammakeba . Today I listen to #wearegrowing from #margaretsingana to fend off the "self doubt/insecure state" and #patapata from #miriammakeba to reboot the "happy mode/mood".

[wokeupwakandaninpariscirca2008]

#yamore by the great Salif Keita. The first time I heard the entrancing sounds of Yamore was in Paris-France, at the house of my school friend from Mali. I was roughly 10 years old or so, and I was invited to share an #iftar meal at her place, (or the 1st meal taken after the daily fast during the holy month of Ramadan). Then, I wasn't aware of faith except when my grand-mother clad me in my Sunday's best, and had sitting in the front pew at our nearest presbiterian church. I was also blissfully unaware that my friend and her family were Malian or for that matter, that they were Black. She had a smooth onix skin tone, very soft and shiny hair whereas mine were coarser, she wore cornrows with beads like me sometimes and her mother looked like a painting of an Ancient Moorish woman I saw once at a museum. At 10, I just loved visiting my friend and enjoyed her family eating habits. The day I heard Salif Keita for the first time, there was a humongous plate of rice with meat on the floor. We all sat on the floor and everyone was eating together (in that huge bowl) with their hands. I thought it was fun. I understood later that it was a traditional custom and show of appreciation to share food with strangers and eat it in the same bowl. I discovered later that my friend was a Malian Tuareg from the same tribe as the #tinariwen. At 10, the music of Salif Keita was mesmerising because it was unique but not too far removed from what I was accustomed to at home. I got to hear him again at home and on TV as he became the symbol of "world music" or music that was so transcendent in its substance that it crossed over cultures and time.... The fact that he is an albino wasnt what stood out about him and actually, as far as I remember, nobody really cared. His music was and still is intemporal. As an adult I listen to his music when I think about travelling and discovering foreign places. Try to listen to his duet with #Cesaria Evora, the legendary Capo Verdean jazz singer. Of note, Salif Keita is the member of one of the oldest traceable African royal family of the 12th century Mali empire whose member include Sunjata Keita.

[wokeupwakandaninpariscirca2008]

I never watched #hotelrwanda with @doncheadle or #12yearsaslave with #chiwetelejiofor. I problaby will never watch these awesome movies. The realism in those is just a tad too overwhelming for me. However, I watched #talktome so many times and can't for my next viewing. I watch it for the history lesson, for the stellar performances of the cast, the humor, the seriousness of the issues dealt with in the movie and how @kzvchick blend and balance them all.

[wokeupwakandaninpariscirca2008]

The Chevalier de Saint-George or a touch of Creole nostalgia in classical music. In Paris-France, you get music lessons in your first year in Middle School. This is usually part of the general curriculum, at least for me back then. You have to choose between few instruments; a clarinet, a piano, a flute or more if your music teacher is into it or your school has a dedicated music department. You also learn to read music sheets. Nothing intensive, just an hour a week. Enough to teach you about classical music by era and their composers. You then sit through a written test at the end of the year to gauge your general knowledge, sometimes it does involve a practical test with an instrument. Today, I forgot all of it. I wouldn't be able to tell a "C-major" from a "B-Flat" key. And don't ask about playing an instrument, I had an otitis before, won't wish that on anyone... which might be the result of hearing me trying something on the piano. However, I kept a general affinity for classical music. The only F-minor in all of that is the fact that I never learnt about The Chevalier de Saint-George while studying famous French composers at school. I learnt about Compere, Rameau, Dalerac, Chopin, Offenbach, Saint-Saens, Debussy, Ravel and more.. If you take the metro in Paris, there is a station named Saint-George on line 12. Between Pigalle and Notre Dame de Lorette. This station is commemorating the Chevalier de Saint-George's contribution to French history. The Chevalier de Saint-George is an 18th century French composer of African descent whose story is not taught at school. Except if you are curious. He shared a similar lineage to the likes of Alexandre Dumas, as in an emancipated son or grand-son of female African slaves from the French Dominions in the Caribbeans. I got to know about Joseph Boulogne (government name of the Chevalier de Saint-George) as an adult when I was trying to expand musical tastes beyond French pop, Europop, American Pop and Zouk (French Caribbean music). Listening to Joseph Boulogne's music is like reading a book by his counterpart in French litterature, Alexandre Dumas: it is epic, unique, rich in details... And more.

[wokeupwakandaninpariscirca2008]

Vivid colors, perfect fit. One has to be bold and confident to wear Mr. Oswald Boateng's suits. Well, the male characters in my story are all of that and then some. And they have personalities to match the suits.

[wokeupwakandaninpariscirca2008]

Tailored suit by Ermenegildo Zegna... Some of the characters in my "Tales of the Parisian..." love wearing these. It can also be Smalto, Lanvin, Boateng or YSL. For these men, donning a 3 piece suit is more of a symbol than a fashion statement. Not too sure about the bow tie though....

[wokeupwakandaninpariscirca2008]

Invisible Man by Ralph Ellison. I remember reading this book when I was a teenager. I took it with me everywhere I went. And then I started studying people around me and to try to understand how they view me or if I was that Invisible to them too. In hindsight, I wonder if it was more of a coming of age wonderment or I just started to get to what was "the Black Experience". I was a born and bred Parisian living in a city as segregated as the places described in the book. I did not know then that my beloved city harbored the same inequalities and injustices. I wasn't blind, I was just too young to understand why certain districts in Paris - France, were predominantly populated by people who looked like me or whose names did not sound Frankish. I wasn't aware then that my French sounding hyphenated family name combined with my "soft" features, beige skin tone and my posh Parisian accent would define my future in terms of academic and professional opportunities. I wasn't Invisible, I never have been. Although at 15 years old, Ralph Ellison's Invisible Man made me question the status quo and then some. A decade or so later, I wish I was Invisible for more reasons than one.

[wokeupwakandaninpariscirca2008]

Read this book when I was a tween. Black Boy was like a revelation. At the same time, I was reading Voltaire, Emile Zola, Victor Hugo and the likes. Then I read Ralph Ellison's Invisible Man, discovered Chester Himes and so many books that shaped my youth. I grew up reading a mix of Pan-Afro authors, Euro Authors, few Asian authors. It was meant to broaden my outlook on life. It made me want to become an ethnosociologist but by the time I reached my junior year in high school, I dropped it. Maybe it was laziness or maybe I had the feeling that I was native to no culture in particular, neither French, nor Black (as in Black French). I felt no affinity to either. I felt, there was no definition nor authenticity to either in my view back then. I had a space to be, exist and thrive as myself, an individual shaped by books not school, family, friends or society. The characters written by the many Black authors I read were supposed to resonate with me, because they were Black like me. In my teen years, I actually had hard time finding commonalities, except for their skin tone and Afro-descent. Maybe was it because at school, the history curriculums had nothing about the Black French experience... Even reading Alexandre Dumas or listening to the Chevalier de Saint-George did not help feeling authentic about my real identity... I wasn't made aware of who I was, what I represented, or what the world around me was made to think of me, until I reached 20. And when it happened, it was a rude awakening. All I can say today is that, books open minds. They helped nullify the Black Person pathos I was/ am supposed to experience. Today, I write about characters with and without pathos, all of whom are living in the City of Light.

[wokeupwakandaninpariscirca2008]

I write about today's Black French people and their psyche. They are Black Africans (all French speaking countries from Comoros to Mali), Black Caribbeans (French Dominions in the Caribbeans), Black Polynesians (New Caledonians, Fijian, Tahitian...) And other Euroblacks, all of whom are part of the roughly 6 million Black people who live in France. The Black person narrative in France is either the ghetto story, the refugee fleeing warzones, the Black-ish... Nothing that shows the multi-dimentional nature or humanity presented elsewhere... Or mostly in African-American or Black-British narratives/representations.... Although, there are still places to explore, these narratives show a more nuanced outlook compared to what you can find in France. And I am here to change it (so I say mimicking Issa Dee when she is facing her mirror). I write in English. French is my 1st mother tongue but I happen to be more authentic when I think and write in English. I am inspired by Richard Wright, John Kennedy Toole, Frantz Fanon, Cheikh Anta Diop, Alexandre Dumas, James Ellroy and Chester Himes. My characters are unique, can't wait to present them. I wish I could write fantasies like Tomi Adeyemi. Can't wait to see the movies. I can't write fantasies though, I like sociopolicial commentaries and satires.

[wokeupwakandaninpariscirca2008]

And the story goes. Woke up Wakandan, stayed Wakandan....

[wokeupwakandaninpariscirca2008]

Sometimes I wonder, if I want to make it as a writer, do I have to go for the shock value. or can I stay true to myself. I am a Wakandan, awkward like Issa, conservative like Brandy, guarded like Oprah and a modernist like Janelle.

[wokeupwakandaninpariscirca2008]

Like a tame mistress in Avenue Kleber, Paris 8e, France. It’s 3.00pm few minutes after the end of an African conference on Debt

4th entry in my diary of the Tales of the Parisian Jungle: Entrance of the conference center, Avenue Kleber, Paris 8, France 3.00 pm

Like a tame mistress, a long and sinuous white cloud of smoke streams from cigar-stuffed mouths and hovers above the gentlemanly procession as they leave in cliques like schoolboys after the bell. Cigars… Those indisputable symbols of power.

The ground shakes under the reinforced Bowen, Church, or Magli soles.  Take your pick.  Nothing is left to chance.  Every now and then, one hears the sharp click of a carved ivory cane rapping the marble.

[wokeupwakandaninpariscirca2008]

Visual assistant for Avenue Kleber, Paris 8e, France,  What do men wear at Conferences.The Patek Philippe celestial watch, the Aurora Afrika MontBlanc Fountain Pen, The Ermenegildo Zegna Suit...  More here https://wokeupwakandaninpariscirca2008.tumblr.com/post/173300878518/monochrome-parade-on-avenue-kleber-paris-8e

[wokeupwakandaninpariscirca2008]

Monochrome Parade on Avenue Kleber, Paris 8e, France

Dozens of African delegations flew in for the conference on African Debt. 

 At this very moment on Avenue Kleber, Paris 8e  France, onlookers are treated to a monochrome parade of dark suits, pristine white shirts and shiny silk ties. 

Their wearers are high profiles lawmakers from Capo Verde, Comoros, Madagascar, Burundi, Ethiopia, Egypt, Namibia, Djibouti, Mauritius, Centrafrique, Kenya, Nigeria, Senegal, Libya, Congo, Zambia to name a few. 

The tailor-made suit from Smalto or Ermenegildo Zegna seems The thing to wear and the go-to sartorial choice of these illustrious men. 

Beside the must-wear designer suits, the chrome BlackBerry smartphone, the Mont-Blanc fountain pen, and the Patek Philippe watch - all custom-made of course, are these men must-haves. Other less conventional or more daring attendees opted for designers from London’s Savile Row.  

[wokeupwakandaninpariscirca2008]

Some pics for a Smalto Suits circa 2008 & Hotel Raphael in Paris, France and The African Continent... Follow-up on my diary in few hours... Stay tuned  

[wokeupwakandaninpariscirca2008]

Avenue Kléber, 8th District Paris

It’s right about a quarter to 3.00 pm at the International Conference Center        just one block from the trendy Hotel Raphaël. A conference on African debt has just adjourned. The who’s who of Francafrique is right here and there, spilling off the building and still buzzing with the aftermath of a complex negotiation on pan-African debt policies relief. Traditional attire hasn’t been in style at these meetings since the King of Swaziland reinstated the ridiculousness of sumptuary formality. Onlookers are treated to a monochrome parade of dark suits and shiny silk ties.  (Next post in 60 hours)