Broken mould


The art of pottery has blessed humanity with items of delight since the ancient Ages, and the present computer Age is unlikely to break the mould; except when it comes to the astute African woman. For in that, even God must have broken His mould at the pottery of each one. Indeed one of the deserving prophets was asked to sojourn to a pottery and learn from thence how human life ought to be.

Kate Mosses abide worldwide as do Jordans. These plastic women (famously admired blondes by the weak) are as malleable and fake as kindergarten modeling. They can metamorphose from near cadavers through aged hags to princesses in a day light in your eyes. Therefore remains the question as to the true selves that men gain the entire fixation on.

That is the complete contrast of an African woman. Catch her unawares early toiling to start the day and she is as sharp as diamond. Catch her in sleep as she is as warm and alive as the sun. And yet, there is never the remotest of semblance with any other, for the African woman is unique of self. Hence there can never be another C-L or KG or (and yes, you, my dear) your persona even with the multitude of geeky computer programmers hoping to make a copy. The mould that made you was simultaneously broken and your blueprint discarded once you left the potters table.

The resilience of the African woman beats all. Where would another be found who can tame wild beasts just by word? Where would another be sourced to make peace as blessed Abigail did in the folly of her Nabal? Where would her sturdy in both stature and character be gained to salve the world? For she is that only to give forthright substance and endure sacrifices for family. For you, blessed one, are the buttress of our society.

And therefore, leadership must be bestowed into her hands. For without her drive and directives, man will wander for ever in darkness.

Makes so my project: It is not in a plot in Ruai, it is in the shape of an eleven year old whose runaway Kate Moss I must kill without mercy and instead instill the tenets that make CL and KG and you, my dear, into the unique one who has, as lessons from Hannah Montana- the best of both worlds. For, the woman who embraces the best of both is the true salt.

Bless you, African woman.

Oh Babuu... Is that you my darling?

Where do you live Babuu? I might as well give KG compe... This might give us a chance to portray the art of pottery and moulding in ourselves... LOL!

Keep it here Babuu... You and Smith {Yes, Smith}, have a thing in writting...

Bless you, African Man...

Thank you fo honoring the African woman for few do. Babu, you are the man!!

Oh Babu. God knows I needed that. What a beautiful serenade. Far from the abusive ugly songs with receive from Patrick and his evil mail males. That makes me wanna shout. LONG LIVE BABU M.

Blessed r u too, Babu, now and forever..............