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WELCOME... AND THANKS FOR DROPPING BY

What you will find here is not just about my day to day existence adrift. If that were the case, even I wouldn't read it. Of course I love music, and photography, so you'll probably find a lot here. I really don't know why I'm writing this blog to be honest... anyway here's a cross-country trek into my life, my thoughts and some, mayhaps unreliable, memoirs of a misplaced soul on its way to....

Thursday, March 15, 2007

In Da Beginning - Making An Entrance

I was born unconscious in Bathurst (now Banjul) The Gambia, on March 25 as expected. The cause of my lethargy? - triple nuchal cord entanglement. The umbilical cord was wrapped, three times, tightly around my neck, preventing breathing and also the tinny gurgling sounds associated with live birth the world over. Anxious and genuine efforts were made to save me before being abandoned.... nonetheless, without legal representation present, I opened my eyes and without making a sound, joined the human race. Time - shortly before lunch. There was a second strangling incident later on in my life. This time at the hands of a male nurse whilst I was a patient in hospital in Sierra Leone. I almost killed him... but I digress, that's another story.

The nurse accredited with saving my life named me Phillip so I am told, however the value of this deed is as yet unrealized. Her name was (Phyllis?) Morrison, a very nice Jamaican lady, so i'm told, on her last day on duty before returning to Jamaica. The name Phillip itself has no sentimental significance to anyone, however Prince Philip was visiting at the time and I am grateful for the extra 'L'.

Morrison had been at our house the day before going over baby names with Mum. My mum, a nurse herself, had written only female names down with no thought I might be a boy. Her logic - she wanted a girl. This kind of logic persisted relentlessly for the next... well let's just say long time, and has been at the root of much misunderstanding, to put it mildly. My first name is Omodele. It is a Yoruba name from Nigeria (for boy or girl) and I was told it means 'a child brings joy'. Instinct told me otherwise so I looked it up. it actually means 'lost child', although well-meaning people translate it as 'a child has come home'. Indeed The Oxford English Dictionary notes the word 'dele' as an abbreviation of the word 'deleatur' (let it be deleted). Lesser well-meaning people could suggest 'let the child be deleted' as apt. The Yoruba name for 'a child brings joy' is Omolayo. Anyway, I digress. Despite having a Unisex name, mum called me 'Baby' and dressed me with pink ribbons in my hair for a time period considerably longer than a phase. I also have reasons to believe she thought (thinks?) me to be retarded. You see I spoke Wolof, a language my parents didn't recgnise as intelligent speech, until they witnessed an actual conversation with a stranger.

'Phillip' is my second name, it means 'lover of horses', and as with my first name, the shoe fits. Some of the best days of my life was spent on horseback. roaming The New Forest in Hampshire, England... but that's another story.

I do have a third given name but I'm not ready to talk about that right now. Perhaps later.

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