London: The Hiatus
“Today’s my last full day in London, where did the time go?” I think to myself as I open this blank Google Doc. Let’s set the scene: Bad Blood by Stormzy and Nao is playing, before that If The World was Ending by JP Saxe & Julia Michaels played…how fitting for life right now!
I’ve had the luxury of not indulging in U.S. news since Donny’s inauguration, a luxury my friends and family stateside didn’t have. I’ve heard the murmurs and intentionally stepped over the grey bubbles in my texts about this particular thing happening in the U.S. and I am genuinely terrified of how much this is gonna hit me when I get off the flight. But let’s get back to this later. I wanna tell you about my trip to London.
I left Seattle for London on January 13 and got here on the 14th at about 12 pm GMT. I was met outside her lovely flat by Maggie. The concept of seeing Maggie and staying with Maggie is hilarious in its own right, as my dear college friends love to point out. Maggie and I have been friends for over a decade (again where did the time go?). I met Maggie and Pache and Anya and Obi and Terrence all at the same time. A time when life was very simple and full of drunken nights and skipped classes during the day. Maggie, unlike many of the women we met at that time in college, stuck around. Throughout the years, we’ve had ups and downs as friends and weren’t even talking during a time she calls “The Hiatus.” So yeah, it’s hilarious that I am staying with Maggie. The plan was to stay with Maggie, then an Aunt in East London, then an Uncle in South, then go to Hull for a few days. That plan changed when I got here. I have been staying with Maggie for 12 days in total. She’s been nothing but an extremely generous host. She’s shown me around her ends, had therapy sessions with me at ungodly hours and just made sure I didn’t lose my fucking mind.
On the 23rd, I packed up, headed to King’s Cross and then left for Hull. On the train, a three-hour train ride I should add, I tried to finish Nickel Boys which was extremely difficult. I was tired and disheveled but, more unfortunately, the book just reminds me of tough things right now and is tied to ideas and goals I had discussed in the most recent past. Anyway, made it to Hull to Mike’s yard till he got home. During my time in Hull, I finished The Day of the Jackal, HIGHLY RECOMMEND, and read a few more chapters of Nickel Boys. Mike and I checked out his city and then on Saturday we embarked on a journey.
In my family, on my mum’s side, all the cousins are siblings. We were raised with that interconnectivity but, more importantly, responsibility. So I am, in a lot of ways, a father to many children. As Mike and I drove to Coventry, our first stop on this North tour, I thought about what it meant to meet my daughter (actually niece), Rhoda. Rhoda is the only child of my cousin, Kwame. I had never met her before. I was quite honestly terrified about meeting her. “What if she doesn’t like me? What if she’s rude? What if I don’t like her?”, thoughts from DJ Subconscious of Internal Monologue FM just flooded my mind. We got to Cov (as Mike would say it) and met with Rhoda and her mother, Hanna, and man, what a warm welcome it was. They were so generous and loving and lovely. We spent over two hours just chatting about life and what Rhoda wanted in life and how I could help. Her dreams and aspirations were higher than I ever imagined for myself, she spelled out something I had the bleakest of perspectives on, a blank slate; a way to start over and have dreams and hopes, despite the horrors of today (a realization I made after I got to London). She didn’t care about what was happening around her, and if she did, she didn’t let it put her down. I smiled every single time she looked at me with her big eyes and said “uncle.” I was filled with this extreme sense of joy and pride. Anyway after the time with her, and a few photographs, we got back on road. We had to stop by another friend of mine, Pokuaa’s house, to say hi.
Pokuaa and I attended Mizpah together from 1st to 4th grade (class 1 to class 4 as we call it in Ghana). Pokuaa was my biggest adversary; she was super smart and cunning in a lot of ways. She challenged me every single term till we got to the final day, but I always beat her. I was first from second term of 1st grade till second term of 4th grade, consecutively, till Pokuaa’s cousin, Akwasi came in and overthrew me from my warm throne of elementary school success. I was third that term, the first loss in life I ever experienced. So when Mike asked, “Yo, what’s good with this stop? You ain’t seen shawty in over 20 years,” I had to laugh and say, “You don’t get it.” And to be honest, I didn’t either. Pokuaa and I hadn’t spoken since 2017, when my brother passed, according to WhatsApp, and I only reached out because I was in the country. But I am so glad I made this choice to see her. I am so glad I decided to stop because seeing Pokuaa also taught me a lesson about life. A lesson about growing from losses. Pokuaa welcomed Mike and I into her home, we caught up about life after I left Mizpah for OWASS Basic (where I met Mike). Her life and mine were basically mirrors of each other, we both took the B.E.C.E early to skip the final year of junior high school, we both took pharmacy classes (as did Mike) and we both lost a lot of family since 2017. It was insane. But none of this really broke Pokuaa. She still had the glee and cheer she had when I last saw her. Her three kids ran around the kitchen after her oldest played us the Greatest Showman on piano. It was such a warm experience. And it recalibrated my brain, jumpstarting it to pry open this door that held back my ability to process any emotions since September, yay depression! We left, after an hour and half with Pokuaa, and headed to Nottingham to see my sister (some of you reading this will be in shock that I have a sister, but yeah I do).
When we got to Nottingham, it was late, about 7 pm. Mike had frequented this city and even had friends here so he just went ahead and dropped me off and left. I stayed and chatted with the family; my sister, her son, and husband. A chat about family, elders, and the current state of Palestine led to a conversation about faith, God, and Christianity. We agreed on everything, not a single clash of arguments happened. I smiled in between monologues because I realized that we might be in a fucked up time but great people are around us, and things will get better at some point. Later, Mike picked me up, we grabbed some food at the local Ghanaian spot, and then headed back to Hull. We got to Hull at about 2:30 am after leaving in the morning at about 11. We had spent over 12 hours running around the countryside, listening to music, and arguing about rap.
My favorite part of driving happened to be two moments when BIRDS OF A FEATHER by Billie Eilish and Elliot’s Song by Dominic Fike & Zendaya came on and Mike and I both went, “Yo, this is my shit!” How comforting! Mike and I have been friends since 5th grade. We met because he lived in the same neighborhood as a cousin of mine. We’ve been like two peas in a pod since. In 2007, I left our school a year early to go to secondary school at the prestigious St. Peter’s, PERSCO. A year later, Mike went to PRESEC (the only school I would consider competition for my PERSCO). Throughout all those changes, we still remained friends. When I moved to U.S. in 2010, we stayed in touch and then he moved to London in 2011. Mike is my oldest, dearest, and best friend; he’s seen me at my best and worst. He’s seen me rich and poor, happy and sad, in love and heartbroken. Through all of that, we had never spent this much time together, alone, in person, as adults. The last time I saw him was in May in Istanbul during the boys’ trip and he said, “Yo, we need to talk, I gotta tell you something.” We were never able to get to the thing we needed to talk about on the trip because we were all engulfed by Kendrick destroying Drake. But this time, it was just us, two childhood bestfriends alone in a Mercedes driving around. We chatted about EVERYTHING. And that was relieving. I learned more about Mike during the drive. I can’t share that here, Bestfriend Confidentiality Clause and all that, but I learned that life’s been shit for all of us but we have managed, we have persevered, and we will continue to because every challenge is a learning moment.
I left for London on Sunday and returned to Maggie’s. Sunday night was chill, spent most of the time chatting with Ms. Stacey, my friend Stephanie’s mom, about life and catching her up on my life. On Monday, I went and picked up film from a developer in Hackney, shoutout to Moderne Lab and then Monday night, I learned how to play chess. I had another therapy session with Maggie, and now I am here typing this on a Tuesday morning. But let’s get back to luxuries and Donny’s America and my thoughts.
The next four years are gonna be fucking trash. Most, if not all, of the people reading this will be firmly in your 30s, four years from now. Things will get harder, but they will also get easier. You will build communities and strong friendships. You will be stronger and have more conviction — in all that, never forget who you are and what you stand for. The experience won’t be pleasant, it will be full of a lot of blood, sweat, and tears; but if we have each other, I think we can make it. I am very terrified of how I will feel when I hop off the plane at 5 pm PST in Seattle. All the emotions I haven’t processed since September will come rushing, but I am also lucky to have friends who will sit with me through it, even if it’s virtually, as Maggie has continually reminded me. I am excited to channel my energy into actionable items. I had the luxury of being away as things started hitting the fan, and I hope my space can be the luxury people have when they need to escape our realities, even if it’s for 12 days.
“Can’t hate your way to disconnection, gotta love your way through pain and confusion and then to acceptance” — Uber driver in Brixton
This post is dedicated to my dear friend Michelle Y., who I saw just last week and passed away in Paris this morning. I got the news right before this upload, I am in extreme shock and can’t even cry or feel sad. I’m sure this will all happen on my 13 hour expedition back home. Michelle was one of the loveliest people I know, a true friend, a brilliant individual, and mother. I will write about her later but for now I just want to dedicate this post to her. Love you, friend! Rest easy!
