THE WHEELBARROW FULL OF AFRO BEATS.
Those of you who didn't read my previous post will wonder what is going on,
a wheelbarrow full of Afro beats?
Call the men in white...
But for those of you who stick about for long enough,
well you asked and I can not ignore your crys.
Unfortunately after much searching for the relevant photo album
the picture I remember so clearly appears not to exist.
So here is a picture of the owner of the wheelbarrow.
And judging by his knowing stare and ample girth he must have made quite a living at it.
For the month of August in 1993 my ma and I went on an amazing adventure.
My Auntie Rose, (she of the kaftan fame), (Auntie in the African sense not the English sense) decided to take us back to her home land.
I was young
free and most shockingly now I see the pictures 18 years later so very very slim.
It was beautiful
Amazing, and so very very funny
And yes my dear old Ma really did try to palm me off in marriage
to the man with the Wheelbarrow full of Afro beats
for the princely sum of two goats, a house in his compound and a bottle of whisky.
May be that explains the scowl on my face!
I think I could probably write a book about all the things that happened in that
long long month.
Love Nora xxx