Tuesday, February 21, 2012


I used to answer : “No” or “just a little bit” each time someone would ask me If I speak English very well. Although my classmates and teachers agreed that my level was beyond the average, I was always ashamed to say a big “yes”. My big obstacle was that an important part of my english education was done through Nigerian and Ghanaian movies. Few actors were speaking as well as my mother wanted me to speak, but she thought it was a good way to begin. She corrected my “ladda” to “ladder” and my “broda” to “brother”…Unfortunately, I’m still convinced that I have the naija accent in my mouth. When I try to speak with the british accent I feel so fake. Lol! 

So when I was in my third year of Junior secondary school we were introduced to African movies. I loved them, and I’m still loving them. At first I did not notice that those films had a hand in my way of speaking English. I always answered to those admiring my ability: "my mother is an English teacher". As if there was any relation between the two facts. As if a child had automatically his parents' skills. I stopped giving this kind of answer the day I met a young lady whose mother was an English teacher too, but who couldn’t speak English to save her life. I realized that it was my own will and passion for this language that makes me spend an entire week-end watching the same movie three or six times with different people. 

The fact is when I like something, I want people around me to like it too. When I find an interesting movie, I want the others to see it. I want to see them laugh and cry or shout like I did when I was watching it alone. It was my greatest joy to come with a new movie and see the whole family gathered around TV and let me translate it in French…even if most members of the family understood English. I used to say it was for the housemaid to understand, or for the cousin spending a few days at home, or for…

My mother was happy because she used to be the one translating years ago, when I was complaining that I was not able to understand, to recognize any word, any familiar sound. Now I’m even translating some pidgin parts she doesn’t understand. 

More than 10 years later, I’m translating the preaching at church. I know now that everything is happening in somebody's life for a purpose! I guess God was preparing me to serve him that way. Each Sunday is a new challenge. General English and biblical one are not the same. In a usual conversation you do not speak about good seeds and tithes and crucifixion…But once again, I have watched so much movies about churches, I always find the right word or it’s synonym . One day I used “chief of soldier” because I did not know at this moment the word “centurion”. I said “rising from death” because I was not too sure that “ resurrection” was English or French only. Another time it was “weeds” I called “bad grass”. People are congratulating me. They say what I’m doing is not easy.

There is a difference between speaking a language, understanding it, and being able to translate second after second what somebody is saying. It’s god grace. It’s god showing that he is powerful. 

I make mistakes! Sometimes it’s like words are slipping out of my mind. A little distraction and I’m a bit confused. But I’m grateful for this opportunity, this experience. Nothing happens in somebody’s life haphazardly. From translating movies in my home to doing it in front of church’s members. Who could have imagine that ? To God be the glory!


Friday, February 10, 2012


I am not very used to insults ! "You are wicked! You are ugly, you are a fool" is the worse I can say and sometimes I'm even joking when I say it. 
I mean because somebody hurts your body or your feelings, starting to insult this person from is grand father to his not yet born children, from is hair, to his toes, is so unbelievable for me. Maybe that's the way I was educated! Or maybe that's just the way I was made! Because many people out there have received a good education from their parents but still have a "dirty" mouth.
I used to think that people misbehaving were orphans, without any one to guide them or anyone who could be affected by their acts. Because how on earth can your parent be alive and you are talking like this ? 
The most  amazing is that some people, who are not vulgar in the real life, start it on the web. I mean what kind of image do you want people to have of you? What message do you want to share ?That's the same for pictures people are posting.
Behind a laptop, they are almighty ! They can do everything, say everything, write everything.  Whether in real life or in the virtual word, I do think there is a limit, a limit one should not cross. They are rules, moral barriers you must not trespass. I even wanted to write some of those words here, to show you, but I can't even do it ! 
Maybe I'll try to capture some of it when I will do the french version ! If I do one. Cause even translated it is difficult for me! 
Maybe I'm suffering of a kind of sickness that white men have already or will identify as "too much modesty" or "lack of vulgarity". But I think I'd rather be like this than spitting rude words at each sentence.

I always say it to my friends ! I cannot have a deep friendship with vulgar people ! Their words are hurting my ears and making me wonder about their childhood !

I try to say as much as I can to people like this that they must change, watch out their language, at least when they are with me. Unfortunately, as some of them find it difficult to bear a conversation without those words, they can see our relationship fading and disappearing! So sad!

So sad because sometimes they are good persons ! One should not judge others only because they speak like this, or dress like that, but I believe that when you are close to somebody and always with this person, whether he influence you or you influence him. It's a fact.There will surely be a contact, an exchange of behavior, of expressions, most of the time unconsciously. So when I see clearly that I cannot bring you what I think positive, I prefer to keep the distance.

Tuesday, February 7, 2012


I don't like soccer. But the team of Drogba, this team of « All Stars », made the miracle in 2006. I spent  90 minutes of my life watching 22 grown men running after only one ball, without this feeling that I was wasting my time.

After 5 deceptions through the past 6 years ( 3 African Cup of Nations and  2 World Cup), I went back to my old habit. I even decided, not to watch any match of the Elephants. In fact, any match of this cup at all. I have many projects in my head and I don't want to die of a heart attack because of a soccer game. Cause of the death : SOCCER ! What a shame !

However, I realized that my vow was quiet impossible to respect. Though I didn't sit before TV to watch it, the comments on social network and the shout of people in their home, made me able to  identify the score, the good players, the bad ones.

In addition, I noticed that many "soccer hater", were not missing games. Why ? It 's just because this competition has became a pretext to forget their daily problems. People are making plan to watch the games with family, friends, in restaurant, at home. The most important is now brotherhood, friendship and no more the national Team, even if each victory is another source of Joy.

As usual, some evil minded people are trying to find a political reason behing this simple game.
 "A victory of our national team will mean that those guys were against Gbagbo"
"We are going to win because Alassane Ouattara paid it! You think that the government played a soccer game for nothing"
"If we win, it will be a good thing. Maybe the President will die next year. Remember in 1992. "

Shame on those people. They have not yet understood that as the past failures of the national team were the failures of all the ivorian, it will be the same for a Victory.

I don't know if I'll watch the next game. But I'll be happy if soccer can show the way to reconciliation, the true reconciliation.

Wednesday, February 1, 2012


It is not easy to guess it when you see some of our politicians, but there are wise men in Africa.
I think Birago Diop is one of them. “The dead are not dead” he said in his poem “Spirit”.
He was so true ! If they used to remain in the trembling of the trees, in the groaning of the woods, in the water that runs, our “modern dead” are now in voting booth.
Once again, it happened in Côte d’Ivoire during the legislative elections. This lead to the cancellation of the results in 11 localities.
I think that dead people are not to be blame in this matter. They mean no harm. They are just bothered by the well-being of the living. How can they lie down quietly in their graves when sometimes, the winner of an election is not the one with the best program but the richest ? No fair-play at all ! Blackmail, threat, assault...

Dead people have to intervene to show the way to the living. They don’t need money, or clothes, or food ! They cannot be bribed or threatened! So there is no need to organize another election for the 11 localities as planned ! Because dead people will surely come and vote again. Whether you find an exorcist, or you choose a representative of the dead to sit in the national assembly, so that their voice can be heard !