, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

I was walking through the Kaneshie Market the other day when out of nowhere, I was bumped into by a certain woman. She had stepped on my favourite pair of brown leather sandals but couldn’t be bothered to stop, how much more apologise. She rudely shoved me and kept going. I would have landed on the wares of a hawker if it hadn’t been for my incredible balance and a certain bulky woman who was in my way. (Mostly the woman). That was when I first saw it; what looked like the scribbling a two-year old would do when he or she mistakenly gets hold of some crayons. I don’t want to exaggerate; the hawker looked like she had slipped and fell face-down in a pile of paint. I immediately looked away for fear of being verbally assaulted. (All this happened in less than 5 seconds).

I quickly regained composure, took another quick glance and kept moving.

Quick word of adviceyou don’t want to be caught staring at a market woman in this part of the capital; the insults that will be hurled at you are of a nature I cannot describe here.

Again, at the foot of the bridge, there was something I couldn’t miss even if I was trying. I saw a hawker who was selling lipsticks. I wasn’t sure what colour her eyelids were but that wasn’t as disturbing as the deep blue colour that had engulfed her lips round about. “Well, she is just a seller of lipsticks” I rationalised as I passed her by and proceeded to climb the bridge. I started seeing all sorts of shabbily dressed, ill made-up hawkers all over the bridge. Yet all this didn’t prepare me for what was to come. For the benefit of those who have never been to Kaneshie, there is a very busy dual-carriage road that passes through the market. The safest way to the other side is via one of the two overhead bridges. The bridges are placed strategically at both ends of the market; a bigger bridge at the busier part of the market and then a smaller one at the other end -about a 100 metres away-. The hooligans would much rather cross the street and climb over the miniature wall to get to the other side. (Occasionally one or two of them fall off the wall and into the busy dual-carriage road). The wall only became necessary as a measure to curb the hazardous way of crossing to the other side but it hasn’t quite solved the problem. I was using the bigger bridge on the day.

Right before I started descending the bridge stood the chubby inspiration for the piece you’re now reading. She appeared to have a more assorted pan of goodies: lipsticks, face powder, make-up brushes, foam, eyelashes I suppose and some other things (I don’t know what to call them yet) I found her marketing strategy rather fascinating though. Remember how I said the other woman might have fallen into some paint? Well, this “lady” probably owned the paint company. Her face was as bright as the rainbow; her left eyelid was brown, the right was blue. Her left cheek appeared a tad browner than the right. The stuff on her forehead and nose seemed to highlight them. (Not that it had any effect; she was colours all over). Don’t even get me started on her yellow lipstick and extended eyelashes. As if all these weren’t enough, it was a hot 30 degree Celsius that day; her chubby self was wet all over and as a result, she was literally dripping with colours.

Ladies, WE BEG YOU! If you insist on wearing make-up then by all means learn how to apply it. It’s supposed to “enhance” beauty I’m told. If you can’t quite handle it, there is what we call today Make-up Artistes. The thing about make-up is it makes the wearer look and feel more beautiful. You may be feeling yourself but you’d be surprised to find out everyone thinks otherwise.

All that being said, we would like to see your real face sometime. .  😜😜