Archive for November, 2012

A President may promise to create jobs, but the only person who is going to create YOUR job is you! You determine whether or not you have a job. The President doesn’t, the economy doesn’t, and the industry doesn’t. No matter how bad things get, there are always those who have good paying jobs. You choose what kind of person you will be, and how valuable you will make yourself to the marketplace and thus, what kind of job you will have. So, no matter what the job situation is nationally, you can have any job you want in the next four years. You don’t have to wait for anyone.

The fact is that you control your life. You control your destiny. You chart your course. Those we elect are not the givers of our financial lives. I sometimes think that many people think that if we can just get the “right” person elected, then their lives will suddenly take a turn for the better. Not true. You determine the outcome of your life


                     The Mad Afro-Asian Woman

She was wearing stripped pajamas, looking rather pale, with a disheveled hair. She appeared to be in her late 40s and of Asian descent. Either of her parents could be Korean or Japanese. She was lanky; her mouth was drooling; and she appeared to be a faded beauty that had fallen on hard times. She reminded me of my half-sister—Cecelia.

“Wow! Wow! A mad Afro-Asian woman?” I cried aloud.

Until that time, I’d never even conceived it, not to talk of even seeing one—especially in Africa.  She was an unpleasant mad woman who snarled abuse at passersby. I also noticed how hard she toiled to shoo away those nasty African flies—they wouldn’t leave her alone!!

 “Who on earth might have been responsible for her pregnancy?” I asked myself.    

  “Could it be a fellow Afro-Asian mad person?” No. I shouted out.

To rule out any such possibility, I found consolation in the fact that, the Koreans, Chinese and Japanese who come to Africa to do business are wealthy individuals—at least from the African perspective. How could they have neglected their off-spring to such an extent that she actually goes mad—scavenging for food through the garbage? At least, she would have been whisked away to her fatherland as soon as signs of lunacy were detected. To be sure, she wouldn’t be allowed to grow mad in Africa—knowing the plight of mad people on that continent.

The other side of me countered:

“What has wealth, beauty and mixed blood got to do with madness?”

“After all, I’d read about, and seen on TV, some mad people in the USA and Britain.”

The other side of me disagreed:

“Yes, there are mad people everywhere. But not Europeans or Asians being seen on the African continent roaming half-naked with dirty clothes scavenging for food through the garbage.”

The other side of me would not agree:

“OK. You maybe right. However, have you considered those tourists who arrive scantily clad, just to enable them enjoy the beautiful African sun… are they mad people?”

The other part of me declined to answer—rather choosing to concentrate on who might have fathered the un-born child of this woman.

At this time, my hunger and thirst had become unbearable. However, I would not stop being inquisitive.

Forgetting of my own plight, I begun to wonder what had happened to this woman. I could no longer feel the intensity of the hunger and thirst that had overwhelmed me. My thoughts had now been hijacked by the sight of this unfortunate woman.

“Could it be one of the powerful businessmen in this port city, or a powerful politician of sorts?” I continued my analysis.

“But then, how could such an attractive middle-aged woman go mad?” 

There were no easy answers. But what I could assure myself of was that, this could be the handiwork of a sane and powerful man. I vowed to find out before I left town. It could take me a week or two—even months. I believed those nasty flies hovering around her had a lot of secrets to hide.

 To be continued….