Chasing Aphrodites

Chasing Aphrodites

“Andrea, where are your Turkish—sorry, Greek delights?” I asked the owner of The Romantic Grocery and Gift Emporium. Since the partition more than thirty years ago, all references to Turkey were frowned upon in this part of Greek Cyprus. “Which ones?” There were...
The Exquisite Shambalaya

The Exquisite Shambalaya

Gnawing hunger woke me up. I opened my balcony to the Mediterranean. Although evening had crept in , its cooler air hadn’t. I skipped down the marble stairs to the lobby. A waif-like concierge looked up at me, her high heels and ramrod back not quite giving her the...
True Calgarian?

True Calgarian?

Recently, I was interviewed for a programme called “True Calgarian”. I examined my brown skin while listening to my incorrigible British accent, forty years on. “Truly Calgarian? Me?” Since I was taken from Africa at the age of five—my mum obtaining a divorce and...
Ramadan

Ramadan

“Pops, why aren’t the shops open? It’s only 4 p.m.,” Christopher wondered. As we passed through Doha Airport, the terminal seemed like a town in a Western movie before a gunfight. No one walked the corridors, the regular bustle replaced by an eerie...
Demented-Part 3

Demented-Part 3

Laura and I visited Dad daily. For the first few weeks, every day we visited, his clothes were piled high on his bed. His winter coat crowned the mound of clothes. We were told that when Dad woke up, the first thing he did was get ready to leave. “Boys? Boys?” Dad...
Demented-Part 3

Demented-Part 2

Who was this man? He was unshaven, with no tie, his shirt collar open and missing buttons. He seemed to have slept in his clothes. His suit was wrinkled and creased. He had the eyes of a hunted animal. This wasn’t Dad… was it? Dad had always worn a suit and tie. He...