Thoughts. Ramblings. Heavy-hipped. Mango-obsessed.

Going Solo...

I did a part of my solo show last night. It was intense and emotional. For one of the pieces, I was playing a character called Mahri. She's being bullied in school for being 'ginger' and 'fat'. Somewhere in the piece, I leave it open and let her do her thing - yesterday, she went into the audience asking them if she was fat, and when they said no, she called them 'LIAR'. Then she called everyone LIARS, called herself Ugly, Fat; lifted her t-shirt so the audience could see just how fat she was, then went back on stage and pigged out on food, while saying through her stuffed mouth that she was Ugly and that she hated the audience. 'I'm ugly, I'm ugly' she kept on saying. And then it all ended with a deep cry, almost like a howl, and she just crouched over the table in a dishevelled heap.

I'd never tried that part of the script before, so when I finished presenting my work and came off the stage, I was a bit of a wreck. The crying continued in the toilet, but this time, it was me Ebele crying for Mahri.

So, yes, that's how last night went.

I'd like to get hold of every bully out there and tell them to stop, to deal with their own shit.

After the performance, a woman came up to me and told me I was beauty-full and that I shouldn't do what I did again - that it ain't right - that it made her cry - that I really REALLY shouldn't do it to myself again. She also said that her partner had to leave because it upset her.

But, I'm like, this is life. This is the reality of being human. This is a facet of someone's life. This is their reality. Life is beauty-full and ugly and funny and exquisite and unfair and complete, and I just showed one facet of that.

It's great to take an audience on a journey whether it's through being funny or surreal or downright goofy (and that's in the show too), but we all have the ability to face the music and step outside our comfort zones. Yesterday, Mahri chose not to go on that journey on her own.

I'm proud of myself for:

a) actually remembering most of my lines!
b) going with the flow (some of the bits I did yesterday were improvised).
c) for giving Mahri a voice

I guess with more experience, I'll learn to deal better with what could be unleashed on stage, but yesterday, it was a lot for me to take in. I knew where the performance could go and I was willing to let it go there, holding back wasn't an option - but the extent it got to did take me aback – I felt like an observer – 'cos after a while, I became Mahri and I could feel what she was feeling – ugly, dishevelled, hideous, angry, extremely emotional – the way she cried, I can still hear it, so much pain. And when she raged at the audience 'I hate you', what she was really saying is that she hated herself.

Mahri is a beautiful, intelligent, funny young girl - in pain. The bullies don't need to bully her anymore. She's internalised their ruthless tongues. She bullies herself now.

Her mum will never know. She will stay an intelligent funny little girl for mummy.

The food helps.

Yesterday, it would have been nice to have a shoulder to come home to - partner, friend, sibling - 'cos I still felt quite tender and the flat felt too silent. Instead, I was washing the f**king Glastonbury mud off my f**king suitcase! Ah well...



these boots were made for walking!
I'm off to Glastonbury tomorrow. Last time I went to the festival was back in 2004. I remember when I was asked to perform there, I really didn't wanna go, I really didn't – the rain, the mud, the huge crowds, sleeping in a tent, smelly toilets, why the hell would I wanna put myself through that? I love the comfort of my own bed and a clean bathroom, thank you very much. Do I wanna wake up and find a worm staring straight at me? NO. And do I wanna manoeuver myself into the smallest toilet ever known to man? HELL NO.

But...I ended up going, 'cos I figured... there was a reason I was being asked to be a part of it. AND IT WAS GREAT!!! I made friends, learnt to live with the smell of pee & shit drifting from the nearby toilets, exercised my muscles thoroughly from trying not to slip in the mud and generally had me a blast! Thousands of people and the energy was great, peaceful, free and laidback. I remember back then I was thinking of quitting my job – just leaving the corporate world behind and going after my dreams – and the energy at Glastonbury made me feel that anything was possible. So when I got up on the mike, I told the audience that I was gonna quit my job and they all clapped. I quit my job that September.

So, in a way, going back to Glastonbury 3 years later is my way of saying thank you. I owe Her a lot. There are people I met there that I'm still really good friends with. And some of them are performing there this year too! So it's gonna be lovely chilling with them. And you know, thru Glast., I've gotten further gigs, been part of projects & groups, some of which I'm still a part of – these have been invaluable in sustaining me as an artist, both creatively and financially.

So bring on the mud!, Glastonbury, I am ready for you! Now I might not see a proper toilet for 4 days, but I, dear reader, have mastered the art of holding my breathe for 10 seconds at a time - besides, after a while, the combined smell of shit and methane-loaded piss can be quite therapeutic. And what if I'll only get to take a shower, like, once throughout my whole time there – baby wipes are the new showers, I say! (ps: thank god, I won't be on my period. That would be the worst thing.)

Anyway, I need to go pack.


What I've learnt today...

...that when I confront things, they're almost not as bad/challenging/scary as I think they're gonna be. This is something I should have known in over 3 decades of laying on Earth's belly, but it's never too late to learn, I say.

I'm working on my solo show - it's a good show, but I've been dreading the memorisation part, so much that I'd been putting it off for weeks. Yesterday, along with the busy time schedule I know I have ahead of me over the next 3 weeks or so, I knew I just had to take my finger out of my curvaceous behind and face the music. And, the thing is, the music didn't sound that bad.

So, I managed to memorise a piece yesterday - it's not 100% perfected but I'd say I'm 97% there - the other 3% is just going over it again and again, but it's in my head, and that's good.

And now I'm onto my 2nd piece & I'm getting into the groove of it and it's not half as bad as I thought it was gonna be.

I also learnt that I'm better at memorising paragraphs than I am at memorising lists (which is crazy 'cos lists should be easier), but go figure, that's how my brain apparantly seems to be working.

In the script for the solo, there's a 'character' that's suddenly made herself known in one of the pieces, she has an American accent, she's very condescending, talks real slow as if everyone's stupid - she doesn't seem to see she has her own flaws.

She's always sitting down - doesn't move around much - most of her expression is in her voice, the tone of it - and in her face.

She's kinda scary but funny. Though she doesn't like to be regarded as 'funny' 'cos she's hell bent on being a serious, law-abiding individual.

I can hear her accent in my head, her mannerisms, facial expressions, how she pauses between her words, everything - and I just hope I can do her justice and portray her as clearly as I see and hear her.

Pixie Philosophy...

So I was thinking, erm...

...if you sprayed shit with perfume, will the flies still come? - are flies selective like that? - hmm? - or does it depend on the type of perfume you spray on it?

...and what about mosquitoes? - are they somewhat bourgeois too? - will they bite you on your arm, but not on your bum-crack?

Come to think of it - all those women that want their lips plumped up surgically, can't mosquitoes be used instead? Or bees? A sting here, a sting there and voila, you're all plumped up, m'lady! Much cheaper, me thinks. Using Mother Nature to her full potential. Then you can use the rest of the money you would have used for plastic surgery to buy me thank-you mangoes. Hey!, I'm happy, you're happy, we're all happy. Happy, Happy, Happy.

So, ermmm...I was also wondering if the sky would fall if shaved eyebrows were left to grow? - letting them find their own pathline every once in a while. I was speaking to an eyebrow the other day and it was sobbing its little follicles out, saying: "Ebele, you know, sometimes I....I...I just need to know ...that I exist."

(Eyebrows are victims in all of this, you know, like a cute little dyed-pink chihuahua caught up in a vicious divorce battle.)

OK. Pixie Philosophy over. Until the next time, take care of yourself

... and ya eyebrows.

(p.s.: The above ain't empty questions, you know? I WANT ANSWERS. My soul won't rest 'til then. I mean don't you want my soul to be at peace - don't you? Don't you?   So if you know, don't keep it to yourself. Share. You have my most-sought-after permission to remain anonymous.)


If I had nothing
and everything
to say,
I'd choose


I'd spend the weekend
washing the noise
out of my hair,
drying it in nature's breath,
oiling it with self-meditation,
twisting it into corn-rows
of silence.

I'd want you to come
be with me.
Let discomfort
tighten its grip
round our necks
while we sit
in silence.

I'd want you to come
be with me
know me
understand me
love me
as we say nothing
and everything

in silence.


Recipe: Baninger Soya Smoothie...

Definition: 'BANINGER' = Banana + Ginger

I am going through a Banana & Ginger Soya Smoothie phase at the moment - well, it's more than a moment, it's more like a couple of months! It's a pretty basic recipe, only takes a couple of minutes - so I thought I'd share it with the world!

It's ok. You can thank me later.

Don't say I don't help y'all...


375/400ml of soya milk
3-4 bananas
a generous amount of fresh ginger
Smoothie maker

1) Pour the soya milk in the smoothie maker
2) Peel & break the bananas into pieces with your hands. Add to the soya milk.
3) Peel & cut up the ginger. Add that to the mix.
4) Blend until smooth


- add/subtract bananas according to how thick you want the smoothie. I like mine pretty thick so I tend to add 1 banana to every 100ml of soya milk.

- likewise, adjust ginger to taste.

- you might also wanna add some honey - it's your call.

- if you don't have a smoothie maker, I guess you could try it in a blender - I personally haven't tried it in a blender so I don't know how it'll turn out.

Happy blending!

Happy birthday to me...

It's my birthday tomorrow...and I'm in a very reflective mood - a bit melancholy too - and a deep lull - that lull is telling me that I'm not satisfied. What with? - oh, a number of things - it's just that birthdays tend to bring it to the fore for me (thank you, birthday).

I don't feel like celebrating - I'm not gonna pretend I do (it doesn't help that my period started today too - I don't get painful ones, but I do tend to feel everything a whole lot more when I'm on - if I'm happy, I'm extra happy, if I'm sad, I'm the epitome of it - if I feel like giving you a hug, I'll give you two - you get the gist.)

I don't feel like being around people for my birthday, neither do I wanna be on my own (go figure, it's the Gemini in me).

If you can imagine, I have a collage of pictures, cards and inspiring emails stuck on the wall behind my computer. I look up at them now & again. And as I'm typing this, about how I'm feeling, one of the sheets have come unstuck. It's a poem a woman wrote for me in one of the workshops I ran:

Enigmatic, is the knowing smile & charming look she gives
beauty personified, the perfect example of womanhood
embodiment of love, care & joy
love embracing in her words, gestures & reassurance
exciting to be around

Coincidence? Or divine intervention?

All of a sudden, I don't feel quite as bad. I still feel reflective (and I think this is good), but I don't feel quite so boo-hoo'ish.

You know what? - I was given a big dirty chocolate & cognac cake yesterday for my birthday - I was saving it for tomorrow - but you know what? - I'm opening it now!

Hold on...while I go get it.


IT.IS.GOOD. I know it ain't particularly good for me, but today, I AM GOOD FOR IT!!!

Anyone want a piece?

Actually, no, pretend I didn't just say that. THIS IS ALL MINE. MINE. MIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINE.

I was

Beautyfull, Brilliant, Bold, Bodacious, Bedazzlingly Brown, Billowing Brightness, Brimming with Bucket-loads.of.Phunk


Ever since I can remember, I've always had dreams about the end of the world - it's usually quite dramatic and feels so real that I'm usually quite shaken up when I wake up from it. (I read in an interview once - can't remember which one 'cos it was a while ago - that Missy Elliot has/had those kind of dreams), and I remember thinking: thank God, it ain't just me.

The first dream (or the first couple of dreams) I remember having was when I was around 8 or so:

There was an earthquake, and when the ground split open, I looked down and there were giant maggots in the earth's core. There was also a blood moon, a rainbow, and Jesus in the sky - Jesus was MASSIVE - have you watched Independence Day? - remember how big the alien ships were? - that's how big he was.

I included those dreams in a poem I wrote last year:

In her world,
Jesus appeared gigantically over the earth
with a blood-moon for a crown,
and the ground split its legs open
to reveal giant maggots
made out of McCain Oven Chips

I've been having a couple of dreams lately about the world (or parts of it) being submerged in water. I've had them before and two of them came true which I find scary. I usually don't remember or understand the dream until it happens for real.

In one of those dreams, a massive wave was coming towards me - I knew it was the end - I knew I was gonna die and I was f***ing terrified. There was this man in a cream cloak in front of me - I couldn't see his face, but I knew that if I held onto him with all my might, I'd die, but it wouldn't hurt as much - I'd be ok 'cos I'd be going wherever he was going - and where he was going was a good place. And so I held onto him like a pitbull terrier! Next thing I knew, I was standing in a small chapel. I can't remember if he was there too. I think he was. There were people sitting on benches with their backs to me.

And that was it.

Anyway, enough about my dreams. I really could go on.

I've just had a banana & ginger soya smoothie - yum!   Now what's for lunch?

In other news, my next door neighbour's been going absolutely mental with her music (and her friends) since the very early hours of the morning, going 'yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeey' and 'oh yeah' every couple of minutes and singing VERY BADLY and telling the neighbour downstairs to 'Fuck Off' everytime he comes upstairs to complain that the music's too loud. Amazingly, he shuffles obediently back downstairs.

She's playing a Micheal Jackson oldie at the mo'.

Now she's playing Thriller...


If someone tells u you've put on weight...

my response
I drew this after growing tired of (certain) people telling me I've put on weight. For example, my cousin told me I'd put on weight.

He's bigger than me.

My reply to him was that he'd put on weight too.

And his reply was and I quote: "it's ok for men".

A friend of my mum's who hadn't seen me for a while got VERY vocal and dramatic about my weight. I was feeling particularly vunerable on that day so it was the last thing I wanted to hear from another woman.

I believe there's a way to say it, but definitely not as an Oscar-winning performance.

If I've put on weight, don't you think I know?

If I've put on weight, did it ever occur to you that I might just be ok with it?, that I don't think it's the end of the world?, that you seem to be more upset about it than I am?, that it might just say more about you than it says about me?

So...  where do I stand on my weight???

I am beautyFULL regardless of whether I put on, lose some or stay at the weight that I am now. Regardless of how I feel or how you feel about it.

I am beautyFULL by default.

And that's what I choose to focus on.