WHY IS RAP SO DUMB THESE DAYS?

I hate Southern rappers these days, I used to lose 8-Ball and MJG, UGK, Dead Prez, even Pimp C, Scarface and above all OutKast. I still love these groups but Rap today is beyond dead, it is mutating into another genre, just a bastard orphan with no direction. Rap is so dumb these days that I tried to get inside the mind of a Rapper, like trying to think on the level of vermin and microbes. The scene I pictured went like this, I wanted to fulfil the ultimate niggerness and live my life according to rhymes, half the stuff they say is just coz it rhymes, not because it makes sense. I sat last night with my friend G-Low during a 3-hr power cut and we sat in the dark with crunk blaring from the i-pod that was slowly lobotomising us.

ROLLING ON DUBS

This means getting big-rimmed wheels, preferably on cars, big cars. 22’s are the best loved, that is 22-inch rims coated in gold and even diamond studs. Chris Rock talks about how rappers put gold rims on everything even their toasters “so when I am toasting I just watch them rims spinning and spinning.” But that is not enough; you have to do more coz rolling on Dubs ain’t enough. So the next level is even better.

ROLLING ON DUBS IN A TUB

Being a rapper one has to customise their car, preferably a Cadillac, the back seats are often dispensable and one can easily install a gold-rimmed or platinum rimmed bathtub to sip Cristal in, but I would be lonely. There is nothing rappers love more than “your girl” all the groupies are too easy and that’s bad for their self esteem however “your girl” can be easily dazzled by the bling just like the “Whatever you Like” video. So we are on to the next level.

ROLLING ON DUBS IN A TUB WHILE I GIVE YOUR GIRL A RUB

AH pure Zen, now one can enjoy the mobile hygiene facilities while pleasuring a losers’ girlfriend. Rappers are always chiding women for dating broke men but then call them groupie hoes. So imagine sitting in a moving tub with a girl, it’s cool until you hit them corners then water is splashing everywhere, all over the silk and Persian foot mats. But eventually one would have to lower the blacked out windows so people could see you, it’s no good to roll on dubs in a tub while I give your girl a rub unless you can see me otherwise it’s just silly. After several hours running up a fuel bill as we circumnavigate the hood, getting dizzy, we would need to go somewhere…

ROLLING ON DUBS IN A TUB WHILE I GIVE YOUR GIRL A RUB THEN I ROCK UP IN THE CLUB

You see it now all them people watching, especially haters, after all that is why we are doing it. The haters provide motivation for the rap industry, kind of like how the Hoover dam lights up Vegas. Haters hang out in clubs so Rappers can be hated on, haters hate people with money who roll around on dubs, in a tub, giving their girl a rub and to top it off, they rock up in the club doing it just to rub in their face. After such a high from doing this you’d think it’s hard to top that, but one can very easily.

ROLLING ON DUBS IN A TUB WHILE I GIVE YOUR GIRL A RUB THEN I ROCK UP IN THE CLUB SIPPING ON BUBS

AH a bit of champagne always raises the level of class, so I take it up a notch by getting some Cristal. So there I am in the tub, with the lights on, champagne on ice, I have made it. This is nirvana, I cannot get any higher than this, even when I get shot or locked up for gun possession I will always remember the day when I rolled on dubs, in a tub, giving your girl a rub, then rocked up I a club, then popped bottles with models as I sip on bubs.

Election08

ELECTION2008

Are we three weeks away from a potential epoch-changing moment? Or is it going to be business as usual? The American election is very important to people of the world; quite often the President of America can have more impact on our lives than our own elected leaders. Quite often it is a far and distant event but now we have an interest, after all one of “Us” could win, frankly Africa is Obama all the way and it will not change. Most of the world is rooting for Obama perhaps as a reaction to the unpopular policies of the Bush administration but our opinion doesn’t matter because we don’t have a vote. Sadly we are all doomed to disappointment because our expectations are too high, the office of the president simply does not have the power to alter American policy at the drop of a dime.

Obama’s run so far has been nothing short of a miracle, 4 years ago he was an unknown State Senator and now he stands on the verge of being elected however getting the nomination was the easy part but the election will be another matter. The Republican Party is a ferocious machine and will not give up power easily; a lead in the polls is nothing because the GOP always brings out the vote. The biggest threat to Obama is the complacency that exists in the Democratic Party and the general low voter turnout among his core support. But Obama has beaten the odds before, he has turned his weaknesses into strengths or non-issues, be it race, age, experience, class and his Pastor.

When I contrast him with McCain I actually see little difference in policy more just personality clashes, for example on foreign policy Obama is more conciliatory as is his temperament while McCain is more macho and postures more. McCain’s main asset has been obsolete due to the focus on the economy so his old Vietnam stories have been left in the cooler. If Obama is contextualised in the prism of civil rights then McCain is defined by the Vietnam War; this represents the split in the 60’s that still defines contemporary American politics. The Democrats had dominated the politics since FDR came to power in 1933-68, apart from the Eisenhower years in the 50’s; however the civil rights movement changed the dynamics of politics because though the democrats were in power the were often clashing with Democratic state governors to repeal Jim Crow laws.

The price of getting the civil right bill was the Democrats losing the South and changed the Democrats from an establishment part to protest party. Since then the Democrats have been in a war of social liberation of what they see as victimised groups; starting with Blacks, Women’s rights, gay rights, anti-nuclear, anti-war, and anti-anything they could disagree with. Liberal Parties all over the world use marginalised groups to bash the establishment and gain a foothold on power. Conservative parties are the opposite, they look after the interest of the power-elite and all those who think they belong to this power-elite and protect the status quo.

McCain represents Conservative values more than Republicans admit, he fought for his country, was a POW, and he generally votes with his party apart from rare occasions. What he thinks are his strengths are actually questionable; he fought in a war that Americans have spent the last 30 years trying to forget. The Vietnam war was pointless, immoral, murderous and provides little glory to those who fought in it after all America lost and lost badly. While most who served were naïve boys from Smalltown America, McCain was in his 30’s and took part in one of the most cruel bombings of innocent people including children (ironic considering his pro-life status) and while I deplore his torture he wouldn’t get a Hero’s welcome at my house. McCain still thinks like a fighter-pilot who has only a split second to think; he must have chosen Sarah Palin in one of those fits.

On the Democrat side they just have to sit tight and get their vote out, luckily for them the economic crisis has taken the bulk of the news coverage and McCain has to get personal to get any attention, the flip-side to this is that if elected the democrats have a huge mess to fix. For Obama the hardest part was looking the part; it is not good enough to have the skills you have to show them, so Obama has been looking regal often standing in profile and looking nonchalant. Now he has to convince the people that he isn’t just half-white he’s half-white trash, a disingenuous comment but a fact that matters because the biggest marginalised community is lower-class whites in deepest America.

I support Obama but if I was to look thoroughly at his social policies I would be closer to McCain; I am Anti-Gay marriage, anti-abortion, anti-protectionist, anti-affirmative action, pro-market and on all major issue we might clash but on international policy we need a more thoughtful pro-active response. Bush’s presidency was defined by 9-11, the problem was Al-Qaeda could only be defeated by a covert intelligence war but the American people demanded something visual and he was obliged to attack Iraq and this has destroyed Americas standing in the global community while dividing America itself. McCain comes from a different generation where machismo ruled the day; his main argument against talking to Iran is that America would lose face, pure machismo.

On social issues such as Gay-marriage I know that Obama cannot “ram it down the throat of America” as detractors say, these issues will be decided on a state-level. Most issues are already decided and Obama won’t change as much as he likes to think, McCain will be another Auto-pilot presidency as the Bush-Cheney administration has been. The Republicans have lost all their trump-cards; the Economy is in a dire way, the Iraq-war though it is now settling is a non-issue and their constant focus on pleasing the Religious right has alienated their core base which is Libertarians and fiscal conservatives. The Democrats do not have it in the bag, they must stop trying to please the fragmented parts of its base be it Blacks, Gays, Blue-collar workers, Latinos, women’s groups, unions, and even lobbyists.

As an African I have high hopes in the symbolism of a President of part-African descent, it will fix an anomaly that has meant all presidents being Whiter than White Anglo-Saxon Protestant (Except Jefferson and Coolidge who some Indian blood and the only Irish Guy got shot) never an Italian, Pollack, Jew, Russian or the multitude of ethnicities that make up America. You can call me a cynic because I don’t expect my life to change that much, foreign aid to Africa won’t increase, American markets will still be protected from cheaper competition, America will still subsidise uncompetitive industries, and visas to America will still be near impossible to get hold of. The present election is for a poisoned chalice because the American economy will be in recession for most of the next term; whoever wins will be a like “one-termer” but the change will be palpable for some. All I want is a change of tone, America can have a dialogue with the world without being wimps, the world can’t hear you when bombing them. Your values are our values, we aren’t your enemy we might talk strange languages and dress funny but beneath we are all the same. May the best man win, and I hope it’s the Black Guy.

IT'S OVER!!!

Exodus is no more, this was meant to be a log of my return to Rwanda and my transition is over, so nomore posts but we have moved on and I am starting an online paper which I hope you will support. so join us at www.lebizz.wordpress.com see you there

MEDIA IN RWANDA

One of the first things that strikes you about Africa is that it has a long way to go in fostering media as a force for good in society, people all want to use it for their own ends. The extremes are government media and anti-government media both want to manipulate the situation, silence the other side and at best smear their opponent. Rwanda is a different country to most of the world, this is the only country where the media killed, they were an instrumental pillar of the genocidal regime in spreading hate, mobilizing killers and maintaining the momentum of the killings which lead to a million dead. Therefore the present government is deeply suspicious of privately owned mass-media, with good reason I would say but this has its own problems. The government of Rwanda has one of the best reputations of all the African countries but this glowing image is slowly being tarnished by its caustic relations with private media.


We recently had a number of incidents which highlighted the rift between government and media. The best example was the “Umuvugizi” debacle; the paper produced a spurious article about the president where they compared him to Hitler, this was a calculated step to bait the government and sadly the government took the bait. So Bizumuremyi disappeared fearing for his life and so tarnished the lustre of this government’s image. I was appalled by the article but it raised a serious issue “Should we only give freedom of speech to people we agree with?” Other issues were where does freedom of speech end and incitement begin? Before all those questions are answered we have to address another issue, “Is it possible to criticize a government without negative consequences or physical harm befalling you?” Rwanda has a number of issues holding it back from developing a free and fair media which all agree is vital for development of democracy.


Firstly I would like to state that there is almost no such thing a free and fair media, for social, economic or political reasons the media is held back. Even in Europe media outlets have a stance or bias in some way, they are often owned or allied to a particular group or point of view. For example in the UK; The Telegraph is Conservative while The Guardian is Socialist, so you already know their angle before they start but that said they “give the devil his due” as in they give credit where it is due. These outlets have identified a section of society that agrees with their views and caters for this section providing specialised news and opinions. In Rwanda I will use the example of Umuseso; the bête noir of Rwandan media as they inspire both exasperation and a grudging admiration among the public. If umuseso and its leader Charles Kabonero were wise they would have been a multi-million dollar business by now but because they come from a background of pamphleteering and agitating, they couldn’t see the big picture. Umuseso speaks the language of the street; it is visceral, unflinching, and not bothered with detail or sources. They just spew whatever will get the biggest response and whatever will further their persecution complex.


Their writers or journalists are not formally trained so they do not know how to file a story, to quote sources for every fact no matter how self-evident and to generally play the game of courtship that is media i.e. knowing how to keep on basic good terms with people in case you need them one day. They burn every bridge as they go along, bite every hand that could potentially feed them and get up the noses of everyone. Umuseso fills a vacuum that has been left void by the State media; there is a saying that “he who pays the piper calls the tune” and the source of funding dictates the type of medium. There are 3 types of funding for media

Private funding – this is where a private citizen bankrolls a media outlet making it immune from bankruptcy, the outlet is subject to his/her whims like Rupert Murdoch at Newscorp.

Public funding – this is where a government funds the outlet, the New Times of Rwanda or the BBC are examples of this. This means the outlet is subject to government pressure, even the BBC saw this first hand during the start of the Iraq war when the Director-general had to resign due to anti-government bias.

Sales and advertising – this is the best source of income for a paper; it makes it responsive and accountable to its readership. It is the most honest appraisal of a newspaper but it is also the most dangerous as most newspaper barely make a profit.


In the absence of a vibrant private sector the government often has to step in to fund media, apart from Radio which is profitable but print, television and internet quite often have government funding. These government funded media are a good example why the state should not fund media; they are banal, uninspiring and crass. Starting with the New Times; there is never a hint of news to be found, just what the government wants you to hear, Rwanda is undergoing tremendous change at the moment but none of it is being documented because the outlets are run by bloated yes-men/women out to save their jobs. A typical story is “Minister lauds cooperatives” or “Minister calls for gender equality” I agree with these issues but there are better ways to address this. Media goes through an evolution as the public becomes more media-literate but Rwanda is stuck in a time-warp where media is concerned. When you have the opium of the masses that is TVR, you see the full extent of this malaise; the production values are so poor that the average laptop can make better programming than their output. The news is a dull roll call of the various conferences and symposia held in Kigali, a hurricane could hit Kigali and it wouldn’t get a mention.


What all this says is the government doesn’t want to explore the full potential of media as a means of changing lives for the better, it instead sees just the most immediate rewards. TVR should have its budget quadrupled or it should shut down because it doesn’t perform any valuable purpose. That sounds like idiocy in a country without enough schools and hospitals; why should we invest in TV? TV is a unique medium; it emerged in the post-war years as American GI’s were coming home and marrying, it grew with the aspirations and needs of the baby-boom society. No other medium has done more to promote consumerism and the modern lifestyle than TV. Radio cannot fully promote modern values which are more visual than audible. Seeing a car on TV makes you aspirational, hearing a car doesn’t, what Rwanda is suffering from is lack of ideas, lack of dreams, lack of knowhow. That is to say the high ambitions of the government are not matched by the subsistence lifestyle of the masses. It is one thing to turn on GTV and see white people living the modern lifestyle and another to see your own countrymen living that lifestyle. Most middle-class people live in gated communities far from the lower-classes and their only interaction is from their bubble of their air-condition 4x4 hence lower classes see the 4x4 and high wall as the only indicators of wealth.


I am fed up with screaming from the outside, I want to do something about it and have decided to write my own online magazine. It will most likely land me in hot water and will ultimately involve imprisonment and torture but that is a small sacrifice to end the banal crass garbage that passes for media here. I believe that in the long run a language for dialogue will be devised for the government and media to interact without friction. The problem is when you have to criticize individuals with power, quite often middle-ranking government officials who are leaching funds through corruption and don’t want to lose their pie. This government is bye and large; honest, committed, forward-thinking and hard-working but there is an element of corruption starting to creep into view. The gigantic 4x4’s and ludicrously huge houses are monument to this, but the question is can you criticize a part with offending the whole? A lot of these people are my extended family so it would be betrayal of sorts but the lie cannot outlive the truth and the truth will out.

THE IMPORTANCE OF BEING ER(HO)NEST?

Our President Paul Kagame is a focussed modern African leader; low on rhetoric but seriously goal-orientated and seeing development as just a series of steps and goals along the way. Even though we receive a lot of aid, it is strictly for individually costed projects and he says he wants Rwanda off assistance within 5-10 years. It is a noble thought and shows ambition, it is true that seeing how rich Africa is in potential, we should be giving aid to the West and not in our present standing. I never understood what he meant till this week, Mum was around and we went around visiting relatives or “dishing out free money” as I like to call it. She can only afford to visit every 3 to 4 years, otherwise she’d be bankrupt; she causes waves of epidemics in our extended family, when medical practitioners hear of her impending arrival they clear wards for the emergencies. No one is spared; everyone suddenly contracts a plethora of symptoms, from Infections (inzoka) Congenital (Gifu) Degenerative (rubag’impande) indeed the variety is impressive.


I realised countries are like people or vice versa; we agree that national stereotypes are wrong and lead to discrimination. But on another level a national psyche is a fact of record, while character might differ from person to person, your physical situation dictates your outlook on life. For example Arabs and Israelis; the fact that one side is interred in camps like animals while the other justifiably fears for its existence. Two wrongs making a right; therefore each side has a given point of view due to their particular situation. Rich countries have a certain point of view; they want to help but on their terms and these terms will benefit them first. In many ways we are a manifestation of our national quandaries; for example when I was sitting in a car the other day and a person was begging. He had the customary posture, bent over double, head tilted, mouth agape; he must have been first in begging school. I say this because he was fully able, no disability, no nothing; I asked what was wrong with him (because I like to know what I am paying for) be it blindness, crippleness, old age, but he was fully fit and begging. He could have been fetching water or working fields, anything to pay the bills.


I come from a pretty financially secure family but at university I had to wash dishes for a bit of money, in England this was standard. But in Africa there is a dilemma; we need cash to solve our problems but what will actually save us is a change of mindset. I met a physically disabled manager the other day while able-bodied people beg, it is all in the mind; a cripple is only a cripple if he thinks he is. This manager had an assistant to do the things he couldn’t, I am not saying we are cripples but we need to see our selves as victors in daily life. So our mindset needs to change but this is hard, it is like receiving aid - we are addicted to it, because if it was cut then we’d go into convulsions. The West sends money that causes so many problems, as many problems as they try to save. It is mostly repatriated back, foreign expats benefit, local needs are never fully understood; for example if an NGO decides to put up a school when a clinic is more important.


Aid is like national heroin or morphine in a medical sense; we take it to ease the pain of poverty but it kills us slowly. Every addict or nation starts the same “I’ll just take it for a while, then I’ll get my affairs in line then I’ll get off.” but aid is like Hotel California ‘you can check out anytime you like but you can never leave’. It makes governments unaccountable as the masses don’t generate the GDP. I saw this first hand when I was asked to pitch a concept for a video for the celebration of 100 years of Kigali, I ran a standard bid about “celebrating the people of Kigali” with a typical vox-pop i.e. talking to various residents blah blah. I was swiftly warned that stop immediately and to focus on praising officials and aid-donors, that illustrates the scenario very well. In Europe the people would be the focus, not dull grey officials and bloated donors. Democracy will never develop in Africa as long as we are dependent on the West; as long as we are financially enslaved we will never be free. For no matter who I elect, they will never be able to overcome the global barriers to my true freedom, the best I can hope for I a leader who understands this and wants to make the best of a bad situation.


So we people are like our nations, and my extended family is a reflection of this; the global struggle is played out in our interaction. As a person who lived in Europe I am known as a Muzungu or white-man; so I play the part of the West and they are the poor Africans. We Africans have a saying “if you climb the wall then through a rope for others to follow” as refugees my mothers’ generation went from semi-naked cattle-herders to modern metropolitans through family ties. In those days the village would pay for a child to study so they could help them back and thus a system was born. It is hard because even though I am a tough-love kinda guy I have to indulge the ridiculous behaviour of relatives. I pay for “medical expenses” when I know the person is just going to drink the money away. I pay for “school fees” when I know it is for blowing on hookers, I pay for “Food for the kids” when I know he is going to buy more flashy clothes and leave his kids in rags. All because he will one day be telling the truth and his child will really have cancer and they’ll say I didn’t help him, so you give money in case. Walking around town is like an assault course, one wrong move can land you in brokenness. I had 50,000 and thought I was set for a week or two as I walked along Matteus avoiding one relative but bumped into another relation who had a well-rehearsed story and promptly relieved me of the cash so swiftly I was impressed.


When we were in England we used to always send money to my Mum’s family and even though my step-father is English he understood that when he married an African woman he had to support her family too. He is always perplexed when my Mum asks him to send money to “my second cousins brother-in-laws neighbours’ wife’s’ grandfather” but he just shrugs and sends. So my mother sends them money all the time, to the point that they are dependent, it is ridiculous; she sends money for food when they are sitting on several acres of unused fertile land. She sends money for milk when they own cows and there is also school fees and pocket money. She decided to pay a surprise visit Uganda and found them living in splendour; the horrors that follow are gruesome. My uncle with polio is a full-time drunk; buying a jerry can of liquor a day, having a selection or harem of the finest prostitutes in the area. The three oldest kids were not even in school even though they had been claiming school fees for the last three idle years. The kids had been buying report cards, the sheet read A in math but a senior 4 student didn’t know 3 x 4. The actual fees were 50,000 each but they claimed it was 500,000 and none of them had ever been truthful. So nearly £8,000 a year was wasted and not just our money, my aunties sent money as well so they had a combined income higher than our own.


Uganda is such a nation; its soul is so corroded with the filth of corruption that it has totally consumed my family. When my Mum was there she said it was in a boom but with 60% of the budget from Aid, I said all those big cars are tax-payers money. My family had become an illustration of our wider dilemma; those kids had no incentive to succeed, what ever they did their rich Auntie in England would always give them money. When he should have been learning 3x4 he didn’t have the need to remember; my Mum tells me of stories of when she was bare-foot with ragged clothes in school but miles ahead of the rich kids, now those rich kids are nowhere. They lived like they had a money tree that flowered once a month or whenever you wanted it; money with no accountability makes you an emotional cripple. Our African nations are the same, getting bloated on foreign aid till we forget the work ethic, getting our daily injection of heroin to keep us dazed in our poverty.


Nigeria receives aid though it is the 7th largest petroleum producer; Angola receives aid though it gets $40 billion from oil alone, not counting diamonds and gold. These are the healthy boys begging for money, still in the poverty mindset though they are now rich. I would love if the government sold off its fleet of 4x4’s; it is immoral to give gas-guzzlers to minor government officials in such a poor country. It makes me nauseous to see the obscene SUV’s, but any citizen wishing to complain about this wouldn’t have any moral authority because it isn’t taxes but foreign money. Much like my uncle lost moral authority in his family because he wasn’t providing, his kids needed nothing from him and because he had polio it made him a triple cripple; physically, emotionally and financially. This drove him to drink more and sleep around so he wouldn’t feel emasculated; so he’d get drunk and ravish the most expensive hookers and just for a moment forget he was a cripple but when he’d try to stand up then he was reminded of his true state.


I was furious with my mother for still giving them money after this, because she couldn’t deny her flesh and blood even if they were lying and cheating her. So she gives money hoping that at least some of it will go to good “throw enough money at the problem and it will be solved.” This is like Africans who want more aid and see solutions as coming from outside. When George visited Ghana the BBC interviewed locals, one said “He should fix the roads and the sewerage.” What was their own president for? You realise what the problem that Africans see themselves as semi-autonomous colonies and our presidents are just like district commissioners with no power. We need a revolution; not one where we go crazy and overthrow governments but a revolution in thinking. We are the problem but we are the solution as well, not America, not the EU, not the UN. The fact is that we would have been doing better if we were still colonised but Freedom is worth more the financial benefits. When will Africans realise their power? The reason the West gives us Aid to maintain the status quo, the world trade rules create the poverty we see and no amount of aid will change the situation.



My music - mp3 most played chart

She said – The Pharcyde
Sometimes – Nice and Smooth
Rumours – Timex social club
Slow down – Brand Nubian
Deep cover – Dr. Dre and Snoop
Angela – Saian Supa crew
Friends – Whodini
Get lifted (green-eyed mix) – Keith Murray
Maniac – Mike Sembello
Umi says – Mos def

AND THEN THERE WAS DUBAI

There is no sentence or string of words that can adequately describe the wonders in the desert of the United Arab Emirates. I have picked up the awful habit of calling it Dubai even though I was going to Sharjah, it was the easier thing to just call it Dubai or in Kinyarwanda “idubayi”. I just can’t sleep on planes, firstly my back seizes up and twists into a knot, and no matter how many times I fly I can never get used to the sensation. I tell myself that “This is a 767, prized for its safety and comfort backed up with twin booster turbine engines, the plane can even fly on one, or even glide to the nearest airport.” So I wretch on take-off and just as I am controlling my nausea they serve airline food, never mind that it ain’t tasty they spare your taste-buds by serving extra small portions that can barely fill your mouth, even anorexics complained they had nothing to through up, or was it bulimics?


The airport is like off Star-Trek, we docked at 0100hrs and the enormity struck us, we got on a bus and drove like 10 minutes to get to the terminal. When we got there it was obvious what a hub Dubai is, there were around 50 lines of travellers waiting to get through immigration. The natives of UAE were the most ungracious hosts at first glance; they grunted and groaned their orders as we were kraaled into manageable lines. I wondered what they were called, Emiraters, Emirian, Emirese, Emirants? I later found out they were called Emirati; they make up 17-20% of the population and lord it over their minions from the Indian subcontinent. The people there were every race on Earth, all races, proverbial colours, I was just waiting for Cardassians, Ferenghi and Klingons but they were on the next plane. The heat is inexplicable, at first I was in the temperature-controlled bubble of the terminal; they grunted that I should go down to do an eye-scan. I drifted through the process until I got into the car park when a gust of dry heat blasted my face. No wonder the Arabs waited for the invention of aircon before they set out to conquer the world.


Back into the bubble and the air-conned taxi, if wondered if it was as hot as I just felt? Or it was a trick of the mind, the taxi raced to Sharjah via a concrete jungle as there wasn’t a gap between the twin-cities. The hotel didn’t get my reservation, and their computer system was down and I didn’t get to bed till around 4 – 5AM. When I awoke from my staggered slumber as the aircon hummed and shuddered, I had to drink around 4 cans of soda as I was dehydrated as a husk. I stepped out and felt the blast again, up my nose, in my ears, my throat, my eyes and into my brain. I lost my bearings in the cacophony of sights and sounds; I say that because UAE is loud, both visually and sonically. I am an avid fan of architecture I have watched the Dubai-Sharjah miracle from afar as the scale is astounding. I partly went to see what I had referred to as “Architectural Porn” by “Porn” I mean the shameless exploitative exposure of a given subject.


I remember the Marks & Spencer advert which had “Food Porn” as the food was draped in sexual metaphors, as chocolate cream dripped down lusciously down a banana éclair. The same applies to Dubai, the big oil money, with little taste; you haven’t seen a building boom till you go to the Emirates, miles upon miles of impressive buildings. I had to say I was instantly disappointed by the porn on sight, I had dreamed of great architecture but found none, I realised that London is beautiful, Vienna is beautiful, Manhattan is amazing, as is Rome, Berlin, Rio, Calcutta, Angkor, Cape Town, St. Petersburg but the Dubai–Sharjah complex is a Lego-city. Endless staccato blocks stifled in narrow gridlines with little regard for form and place.


There are subtle rules of architecture - utility, durability and aesthetic beauty are the oldest but modern rules are about the “relation to space” both internal and external, it is here where you realise the root cause of the banality of design. The best architecture conquers physical limitations and blends in with its given environment; it expresses cultural thought and challenges traditions. The space is flat and clear with no obstacles in the way hence the need to conquer scale, do it and do it big! Sharjah is an overgrown dormitory town that has grown from the Dubai population overspill. The blocks are Soviet-lite concrete monstrosities with little grace. The space is a desert that is why the heat is jarring, if I was standing on a sand-dune then it would make sense but standing in an urban metropolis confuses you. The squares were filled with tasteless monuments with literal metaphors that slap you in the face. A globe and a hand with sword thrusting; I wondered what that meant.


I asked the concierge where to go and there was one reply “MEGA-MALL!” At least I knew what I was getting; post-modernity with shake and fries. I was ushered into a taxi and without consultation the Porter sent the taxi to the mall, the few seconds I stood in the sun were excruciating and I was truly happy to enter the mall, the cool air descended. I could have been anywhere, a mall is a mall is a mall; I had been plunged back into the modern world I had missed in Rwanda. It is one thing to be immersed constantly in Post-modernity but you can miss it and some of its original charm returns. I needed something familiar, something chickeny, something Kentuckyish, there was only one place to go, yup Burger King. So my KFC went down well, now I was too lazy to window shop. I walked aimlessly around the mall with all the familiar shops that were the same but with a twist, everything had glitter on it.


The British have an avid aversion to all that glitters; they coined “Bling” as an insult, but the Arabs love the glitter, gold, and tinsel of bling. Bling here is an ideology, a paradigm, an ethos; you see the new money, new buildings, new everything. It hit me that it was Vegas without the glamour, gambling, and sex. Like a naked man just wants clothes without even seeing whether they match, buildings are just covering the naked landscape, and nothing appears older than 10 or 20 years old. Occasionally you see an old mosque that pops up anachronistically like a sore thumb. I might have picked the disease of British reserve and I was disgusted but respectful much like when you see a fat kid eating 53 pies in 3 minutes at an eating competition. I respect them for building all that but I asked why, why and why again.


Dubai is a city that is designed to be seen by car; I walked to try and see it by foot and was on the verge of a stroke after 30 minutes. I sat in a taxi as I took the design slide- show with buildings that are designed to be seen fleetingly, on closer inspection they vary in inspiration and true beauty. It is like Miss World; at first you a blinded that they all look hot but an hour later “Miss Norway’s eyes are too close together plus she’s too blonde, Miss Burma looks creepy and what’s with Miss Sao Tome and Principe?” Back to the mall and a bucket of Seven-up, the Majority were Modernists. One myth is that American-style consumerism is incompatible with dictatorship but UAE and China bucks this myth.


I tried to maintain decorum while laughing at a woman trying to eat her KFC while her veil was over her face, it was like a cruel game, her husband was equally amused but steadfast in his belief that the veil was necessary to maintain modesty. The Emirati are like a shadowy presence maintaining a sinister presence in all government institutions, they exude a level of disdain that informs you of their status. The rest are seemingly Indian or Pakistani with the odd Philipino thrown in, imported wholesale from the indo-Gangetic plains and far-flung islands. They were so at home I was addressed in Tamil several times; they thought my dark skin meant I was one of them. Usually pointing at something with the price was all the customer service I needed, 100, 250, 600. Numbers are all you need; even writing down the number was enough.


Leaving to go back to the hotel I caught a taxi and gave him the card with directions, I then realised he was illiterate, well not literate in English or even Greco-Roman letters. Before I could look down on him I realised he read Sanskrit and Hindu text, he led me on a merry-go-round tour of the city with added entertainment free. Before we left he took it on himself to offer advice, he saw an obese, hairy, chain smoking lout on the street, he shouted at him, something like “You fat bastard, lose some weight!” I was sure he knew him but he assured me he didn’t. “See? Is stupid man! Is fat is stupid, is big problem. No good, you see?” I agreed it wasn’t healthy but I didn’t see the need to chastise him. The gregarious Bear of a taxi-man swerved and swung around the chicanes and lights and lanes. Cost me twice as much as he swore he knew the Square but wound up at the wrong place.


As you drive into the industrial areas of Sharjah, you can see the old city that is buried under all the Perspex; dusty windy outposts that betray the fact that this is a sprawling desert. As ever the heat pummels your head; I went to visit various yards dealing in heavy machinery, each stop was like landing in an oasis where I was offered cold water and cool aircon. The way back was in a packed bus with a mass of Indians and Pakistanis, the ram-packed nature of the bus cut out the aircon and we were stifled. The front of the bus is always reserved for women; women are such a rarity in UAE where there are 2.7 men for every woman, this is due to the high migrant-worker population. The few remaining women are firmly ensconced at home, only intrepid Philipina and daring Indian women venture out and when they do they get the plum seat upfront, sometimes a man is unceremonious bundled off the bus for the comfort of a lady.


Surfing the web is a precarious pursuit, it is one of the IT hubs but the web is so slow, this is due to the filtering and blocking of sites, when one ventures off the beaten path you get a sign saying “This site is not compatible with the religious, cultural and Political views of UAE.” That said, you see how it is at a crossroads of Western and Arabic culture, women on TV are dressed a friskily as ladette slappers out on the town, made-up to excess like drag-queens, teenage girls giggle round the mall. You just wonder where this place is headed, after all we Africans aspire to this. Rapid development is good but you see that social and cultural development should go hand in hand. Right now the Arabs of UAE can buy anything, even art and culture, Abu Dhabi has bought into the Louvre and displays all the finest paintings of Western antiquity but without understanding or processing their deep meanings, it doesn’t challenge their thinking but they are just objects that rich men should have. That sums up UAE it is like the MTV cribs of a country, even a rapper with too much money would find it tasteless. I think in due time they will develop a subtlety and modesty more compatible with Islamic culture but for now any man talking sense is drowned out by the loud sound of “Bling, bling, bling!”

OBAMA-BAMA-BAMA WINS

A JALUO PREZZO

Last night I was packing and nervous about my Dubai trip; I packed but kept fretting that I had missed something. I went to bed around 11 but didn’t sleep till 1 and I set my alarm for 4 in the morning in order to hear the results from the US primaries, it wasn’t a surprise that Obama won but more surprising was Hillary’s reaction, she still couldn’t bring herself to give in and congratulate the man. Last night was the beginning of a new era in politics, not brought on by Obama but by Hillary. The world of politics has been devoid of colour since the death of communism when diametrically opposed views disappeared and what we were left with were shades of grey. So Hillary has started a new revolution in politics; in years to come they will be teaching the principles of “denialism” or “delusionism” as the doctrine is called. It is a simple concept; to totally deny reality and live in a bubble with all your voters in an ignorant world of total bliss unaware of basic facts of life. It is like Napoleon claiming to have kicked Wellington’s ass at Waterloo or When Hitler was stuck in the bunker commanding imaginary legions, if only leaders of the past had known of this tactic. We would have heard of George Foreman’s thumping victory in the “Rumble in the Jungle” when he fractured Ali’s knuckles with his jaw and kissed the ground in celebration.


Communism would be claiming a victory over the West and say that they let them think they had won. I saw the seeds of this denialism sprouting in UK when new labour was in first in power; they had many of the top operatives who came from a PR background and regardless of their political leaning they could always dress a pigs ear to look like silk.

Here are some examples

More people with cancer waiting for treatment – Better diagnosis
More people unemployed – this creates a more competitive job market
More children expelled from school – Better discipline is being imposed
More soldiers dying in Iraq – They are dying for a just cause
More obese kids – this shows more disposable income to spend on food
More terrorism attempts/attacks – shows we are winning the war on terror

Gordon Brown is suffering now because he doesn’t have the bullshitting skills of Tony Blair, if only he had Hillary’s campaign manager. What Obama has done is awesome, a BBC reporter said he had wheezed over the line but we have to remember that he has defeated a two-headed beast called Billary – yeah you get two for the price of one with the Clintons as we have seen. Beating the Clintons was unthinkable when he started, they were the toughest political opponents that he could have wished for so beating McCain will be a cakewalk compared to this. The mud that has been smeared, the taunts, the Pastor, and all this from his own side. And now they are just meant to kiss and make up like nothing happened, the sense of entitlement that the Clintons exude is nauseating. First they thought they deserved it just because of their name, then they were offended that they would actually have to campaign for it, then they rested on their laurels as Obama gained momentum, then they invoked racism saying that “Racists vote too and we can’t forget them as well” finally they said “the rules is wrong, change em.”


Obama has been a genius in how he executed his campaign; he just had to get the nomination so he couldn’t afford to spell out much policy, instead he was a blank canvass for voters to project their hopes on to. He was basically a salesman for hope; I looked at his website and it read “powered by hope”, that was a bit too much for my liking but it made a point. Chris Rock said you can’t talk a woman into having sex with you but you can talk her out of it, the same applies to voters voting for you. All he had to do was stick to the message and hope that no scandal would come out to wreck his chances. When this campaign started I wondered what chance either candidate had “A nigger or a bitch?” most bigots wouldn’t know where to start. I argued with my cousin (who was voting with her uterus) that the fact that Obama was equipped with a penis and Y-chromosome stood him in good stead, I think America is ready for a woman president but Hillary is not just any woman, she is the Anti-Christ to many Americans.


Obama cannot allow a dual-presidency by giving Hillary the VP, she will undermine him every chance she gets. He has to strike out on his own path and not give into blackmail, so what he needs now is policy and plenty of it, he cannot fear to offend voters but just be truthful. He cannot bask in the glory of his victory however glorious it is, it was momentous but he cannot just lose and be happy that he was the first Black man to lose an election. The significance of Obama should be fleeting, Blacks are happy that he won the nomination stating that he would be a role for young Blacks. Yes he will, but he will not make up for the absent fathers and poor parenting that young Blacks receive, maybe he could improve funding for schools and social services. History moves so relentlessly the day after he gets elected it will be “So we got a black president, what next?”