ZANGBETO

ZANGBETO.

For sure one time in your life you have heard about voodoo, about the Amazons the warrior women’s, or the slave trade trough the Atlantic ocean?, well if you did but you want to know more about, in Benin you’ll find many of those awnsers.

The 20% of the population are Christians, a 15% are devoted to Allah, but basically the whole population tries to find protection or favours to the voodoo. In mostly of the towns one ugly sculpture of voodoo named “Zangbeto” protects the town, during the dry season, thousands of believers pray together shoulder to shoulder for better harvesting, or having good rain, and of course some they use it to do little bad things against those that don’t like much.

All this and much more , you can find it in Benin, little country that in my opinion even though the corruption and all those African stuff, is a very quiet country, and all of this you can see on the faces of the Beninese people, that looks like never change, always with a big smile and this makes you feel good here.

Right now I am in Cotonou, the city where everything happends, business, corruption, trafiquing, etc etc, also is the place where the Embassies are located, that place where I am spending so much time applying for visas .

But unfortunately for me not all is funny, nice or good, at least as much I would love , do you remember my accident in Nigeria, this country that I’ll never go back?, do you?, result of it many wounds in my body, also some breakings on HalimaŽs, but all of this today is already gone , and today I have a huge mentally frustration.

My scaphoid bone finally is destroyed in pieces, and after many coming and going to the hospital, x-rays and loosen hope, an ugly plaster decorates my right arm, and it will during three month times, bloody hell!!!,I can’t do anything, and when I am saying anything means nothing at all, I can’t write, scratching my nose, great people, brushing my teeth or cleaning my ars, all this during three month? Can’t believe it!

When I have left the hospital my own world was also in pieces, I felt bad, I felt like the tittle of one book written by a good friend of mine, and the tittle is, How do I became a dead man.

THE HELL IS WAITING WITH OUT ANY HOPE.

I am here in Cotonou, this polluted city, hosted in Sophie’s and Mario’s house a French-Beninese couple that make of their life a piece of art, and at the same time they help me to find a sense of my life now.

My days are eternal, I am thinking, thinking and thinking again, but my incapacity and this disgusting plaster in my arm make me feel useless.

Even though, I am happy, I am writing with the help of somebody� arm ,a feeling of frustration again, but I am looking around and I can see happy people, sad people, streets full of life, full of colours and smell, like or not real life, and me I am one more among them, and no matter how memories make me feel, good or bad, I know that I have to forget, even if I am trapped there, I am sure that one day I’ll touch again my stars.

My days among hospitals and deceptions finish with the sad routine of making a balance, and with the wish of finding solutions I am feeling disappointed that I cant be with you, because I can’t write, bloody hell!

Anyway I’ll take my time to think, I’ll do it with a big smile, because I am happy, and today Gambada also looks forward for future changes, a new fresh air that it makes me so happy, but nothing is done yet, so around February when I wont feel like a death man I’ll explain to you a bit more.

In a mean time I’ll like to apologise to you for my incapacity to write, but I’ll try to do my best to be here as often as I can, and I hope I’ll have a third arm that somebody will borrow me friendly.

So for now , I’ll let my body getting a rest, getting fat, or just follow it’s nature, but at the same time I will start a hard battle in my head, to find new ways, new ideas, new dreams , new hopes, because with out hope we can’t live, isn’t it ?.

And now I would like to continue to be who I am, just Nando, far from being the best, far from being a great adventurer, far from selling my dreams, just me, with the wish of help those in need, broken arm or not.

When the shadows of the sunset arrive, I always will be there to hold the world like it was a toy.

Gambada it may can’t pedal for a wile, but it will never to talk as loud as my heart does.
So, here in Benin I really hope that this ugly statue of Zangbeto, the voodoo protector, also protect my dreams

Zangbeto, the ugly ones.

HEALTH AND GOOD JOURNEY, NANDO.