He and I
By Afua Osei-Bonsu

A Revolutionary
He�s 63. I�m 35. He�s a musical genius who was awarded an honorary PHD.
I interviewed him for Afrique Newsmagazine. His song �Hokoya” (or in
English, �watch out�) started a political revolution, after which he was
jailed in Zimbabwe. Also rebellious, as a teenager, I went to juvenile
detention in Michigan. He said, �Gain some weight.� I replied, �I�m on
a diet.� Having fled from his country�s political problems, he now lives
in exile in Oregon. I live in Brooklyn where the tides are changing,
some people are moving in, while some people are moving out.

Son of a Boxer
He is short and fit. I am tall and out of shape. He�s from Guyana but
lived in France. I am Ghanaian-American and lived in London. He speaks
English, French and Portuguese. I speak English, Spanish and a few words
of Twi. He says, �ova dare.� I say, �over there.� He studied air
conditioning and refrigeration. I studied design and printed textiles.
He likes to comb my hair, paint my nails and wash the dishes. I think
he needs a green card. He�s the son of a boxer. I�m the daughter of an
electrical engineer. He drives fast and he doesn�t have a driver�s
license. I wear my seat belt. Once when a man spoke sweetly to me he
turned psycho. I no longer take his calls. He is too macho. I am free.

Really and Truly
He came knocking at the front door. I let him in. He said, �I want to
be a star.� I thought he�s a dreamer. He said, �I will take care of
your heart�. I said, �I�ll take care of yours.� He wrote the song �Love
like a Nervous Breakdown� for me. I lost the record at the airport. He�s
the singer for the band Sabatta. I said, �Get some voice lessons.� He
prepares goat stew and gari. I prepare groundnut stew with fu fu. He�s
a wannabe Muslim who doesn�t eat pork. I am a carnivorous ex-
vegetarian. He says, �really and truly� in a south London accent. I say,
�Do you know what I mean?� in an American accent. He went to a private
boarding school in Scotland. I went to public school in Michigan. He
wears a large unruly afro or braids. I blow my hair out, or wear a
turban or a hat. He said, �Let�s get married.� I made a list of guests.

Gemini
He prefers spontaneity. I prefer maturity. For Thanksgiving he went to
Martha�s Vineyard. I went to a dance party in Chelsea. His hair is
black, short, mod, and hipster. I have blond rock star streaks. He is
from East Hollywood via Mexico. We speak Spanish. He wears black
clothing, patterned socks, shops at H&M and sometimes Armani. I wear
bright colors, shop for vintage couture, and I also like patterned
socks. He designs animation and cell phone content. I make cut-and-
paste collages. We both silk screen and shared our photographs. We are
both Gemini�s and love to kiss. �You�re cute.� �No you�re cute.�
�You�re a good kisser.� �No you�re a good kisser.�

Mr. Delicious
He overheard me say I was Ghanaian. I saw him come over immediately. He
is a biracial French Ghanaian New Yorker. I am a biracial
Ghanaian-American New Yorker. He�s Ewe. I�m Ashanti. He�s an attorney.
I am an artist. He has a tattoo that says �no justice no peace.� I
have a seam of dots that runs down my arms. He has Picasso posters in
his apartment in Park Slope. I have art that I made myself. He
repeatedly says, �and so on and so forth.� I remember when he said,
�maxing and relaxing.� He�s a daddy. I call him Mr. Delicious. He
smokes Newports. I smoke Samson rolling tobacco. He works 12-hour days
on Wall Street. I commute from Brooklyn to Westchester, 2 hours there
and 2 hours back home.

Your Bow Tie is Fighting with your Jacket
He�s a small man with a big personality. I�m an Amazon. He does
Unusual IT for Fortune Magazine. I do idea development for Pathogen
Positive. A Jewish family adopted him from the Bronx, who live in a
gated community in Westchester. A single Ghanaian Buddhist father in
Michigan raised me. He invited me to celebrate Hanukah with him. I
dressed up. He brought me a homemade mixed CD, which he called �Love is
a Bitch� and a gold painted microchip. I brought him gelt. He said,
�Your bow tie is fighting with your jacket.� My outfit was in stark
contrast to his all black Goth industrial ensemble. He said, �I think
you will make a good mother.� I said, �Are you looking for a wife?� He
said, �You constantly reinvent yourself.� I said, �You�re a little
uptight.� He made the motion �a little� with his hands. I said if I
was your doctor I would prescribe you medical marijuana. He drinks
vodka tonics. I drink Stellas. He said, �Your hair is flat.� I said, �
You have none.� He asked me to go for a walk in the park the next day.
I was tired after a week of insomnia and declined. He squirted Listerine
in his mouth and stretched to give me a goodnight kiss. I thought he
smelled of chemicals. He said, �When can I see you again.� I said,
�I�ll see you around.�

Thank you for Rocking it
He had on a floral shirt, some jeans and a fedora at the designer sample
sale. I had on some red leather pants, a tight shirt with a sixties
print and silver boots. He gave me a copy of his CD and wrote �thank
you for rocking it� on its cover. I gave him my phone number. He lives
in Tribeca. I live in Prospect Heights. He played electric guitar and
sang at Fontana�s. I didn�t make it.

The Stomach Doesn�t Have Teeth
He was at a Cuban film in Harlem. I sat next to him. He was chief
economist for the United Nations turned naturopathic doctor. I referred
a friend to him. He invited me to a health food store for dinner. He
went to Oxford in Cambridge England. I went to Saint Martins also in
England. He pulled out scissors and cut his food up. I think he has
poor digestion. He said, �The stomach doesn�t have teeth.� I chewed my
food, as he suggested, 30 times. He advocates polygamy in Nigeria. I
thought it�s that or consecutive marriage. He was trying to kiss me in
the subway station. I grabbed his arm as he was falling over.

Same Shirt Different Colors
He is bald and wears black vintage glasses. I had my prescription put
into lavender sunglasses with diamantes. He wears 30 of the same shirt
in different colors. I wore a pink head wrap and blue cords with peacock
embroidery. He is an art director for the New Yorker. The music critic
uses his music collection. He interrogated me about my musical taste. I
listen to John Legend. Zap Mama, reggae goodies, and TV on the Radio. He
is named after a University in Detroit. I am named after a day of the
week.

Website: Afua Osei-Bonsu

Born in Athens, Greece in 1973.
Studies in Fine Arts and Photography.
Seminars in Web and Graphic Design.
Practiced alongside with my father, who is a wood sculptor.
Working experience as a photographer for various Greek publications and advertising companies.
Aside from my creative endeavours, I have also studied translation of the Spanish language although never graduated.
Mostly influenced by conceptual and figurative art.
Great lifelong expectation: Designing a sculpture for Omonia Square in Athens.

2007 -solo exhibition called “YOU…RICE”, Romilos Gallery,Athens

Website: tzimou
Contact email: olgatzimou@hotmail.com