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Wednesday, 26 October 2016

#InternDiaries Chp 0.3: The Feet That Invigilates

Few days for the school I teach in to go on mid-term holidays, the students wrote exams. We call it Mid Term Exams, and we had to invigilate most of the papers they wrote.

Invigilation is a very tough work. You have to be attentive, and walk through the lanes. It is advisable to be in ballet flats.

You all know, I love high heels. I conquer the world in high heels, and chill in wedges. But if you know, you would be walking through a bunch of students, sitting at their desks, fighting for their retentive memory battle, you need to wear flats.

Trust me, I have a testimony.

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Tuesday, 25 October 2016

#InternDiaries Chp 0.2: I see my mates in them

As I mentioned before, I am doing my student teaching internship in a secondary school (high school) and it is an interesting one.

I enter a class and I see some of my high school mates in them. It’s so amazing. It takes you back to the school that never allowed you to go out until vacation day. (Yeah, they did that).

It’s not only when I enter the class alone. Anytime, I am at my desk, and I watch the window and see some pass by. I see them in the Assembly Hall.

I saw the girl who claims to be religious. I saw most fashionable aka most fa. I saw the fat Home Economics girl. I saw the geek girl in glasses.

I haven’t met my high school self yet, I hope to see her before I complete this internship. 
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Monday, 24 October 2016

I’m trying to love Mondays

Dear Monday,

I have a love-hate relationship with you. Did you know that? I love you because, you’re like a fresh page for me to make things right. I hate you because you can be very exhausting, and full of pressure. It gets annoying sometimes. I love you because my mind is refreshed from weekend fun and relaxation. I hate you because your alarm clock sounds different and really scares me.

The streets are all full of moving beings and to talk of traffic—ahh, I cannot contain it. I use the moment in the public transport to catch up on social media. Gosh, that makes me miss the weekend more. Friends post pictures on social media about their weekend. It makes me want to cry mpo. Friday, Saturday, Sunday, I miss you guys.

Sundays are the shorter days. I bet you still some hours from Sunday, don’t you Monday? You are having some Sunday Funday, there noor, darkness falls. Aden, bra?

Do you know what makes me miss the weekend more? When I go to school or work and I am asked how my weekend went. Even if I did not have fun, it makes me miss the Friday night feels on my bed. The chillaxing and hugging of the pillows, that was so amazing.

But don’t worry Mondays. You have some good in you. It’s the day of fresh start.

Watch the video here 

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Friday, 21 October 2016

The African Writer vs. Me

Everyone expects the African Writer

To wear glasses

To have a mass of natural hair, or dreadlocks or tie her hair in scarf

To wear African print and beads always

To have a certain accent

To speak big grammar

To study abroad

To talk about Pan Africanism

Or Afropolitan Dreams

Or our ancestors

To write about calabashes and palm wine

And laughter under the trees

And bringing the cattle home

To write about the hips and dance of a princess

To talk about kola nuts

And to have the most local name ever


I write

I am African

But I don’t have a mass of natural hair, because I think it’s painful, so I perm my hair. (lol)

I sometimes tie my hair in scarves, so that’s a plus.

I have loads of trousers and miniskirts, not made of African Print

I do wear jewelry, the gold colour ones, the silver ones and some beads.

I do have an accent.

I don’t speak big grammar, my English is even not good

I don’t openly talk about Pan Africanism

I don’t talk about my ancestors. I put them in my family history records

I don’t write about calabashes and palm wine

I talk about kelewele and sobolo and CHO-CO-LATE

I did not study abroad, I studied right here

I don’t have the most local name ever. My name is Marietta DeGrant, not Afua Afi Bronya, so you are allowed to have a little bit of doubt that I am African.

But seriously, I am African.

So, does that mean, I am not an African Writer?
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Monday, 10 October 2016

#InternDiaries Chp 0.1: I Trust my High Heels


Welcome to Marietta's Intern Diaries, 
where she would be writing about the basic life and thoughts
 of an intern.

I have started doing my student teaching internship. It is ermmm…… what’s the word? If I remember, I would tell you.

So, you see me so, I’m in my early twenties, but I look like someone who is a teenager. (No offense to me). Some girls are bigger than me. Some boys are bigger than me.

Anyway, it’s a funny experience. You are a teacher, talking on top of your voice, handling teenage boys (You can imagine!), handling teenage girls (another story), but you don’t get paid.

I haven’t really written down what I have been going through but hey, it’s another kind of world.

Being a small person is really something. A student walks to you to inquire of something, then you have to raise your head to listen to the person because the person is bigger and taller than you. This is where high heels comes in. You have to wear them to become taller than them and superior to them.

I am not saying I am short or anything. I have the average height. My size is what I am talking about here, and also your young face and stature. After teaching, all I do is to come back to my working desk, sit in front of my computer and laugh in my head.

My high heels makes me look smart, and my glasses already shows that I am that kind of a geek/nerd. Someone who understands the computer, and has been using it all year long (apart from blogging, hehehe xx.)

Anyway, thank you heels. You make me feel good. But walking in it to and fro during a computer practical session is another wahala.

Thanks for reading. See you later.

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Friday, 7 October 2016


Dark makeup is one of my favourite things. I don’t really know why, but I like the feel and the look of it. Black, brown, dark purple etc. Those are my favourite kind of makeup colours. Not pink, red, orange, yellow etc. Even though I have some pink lipsticks, and I’m about to buy red ones.

Anyway, so I did this makeup somewhere in June and it was a rainy month. But I liked to look dark. Some people said it’s not right, but I don’t care. I’m an off and on person when it comes to makeup. Sometimes, I really need it. Other days too, I don’t feel like holding the brush. But I love lipsticks. If I don’t do anything at all, at least, lipsticks/lip balm/lip gloss makes my lips rock.

Dark is like a kind of mystery. A mystery that cannot be describe. Some people associate dark to misery and sorrow and those dark things.

But I see dark to be imperfection, the moment you need white, or light. You need to be dark so that white stains can make you beautiful.

Dark describes my imperfections, and I love dark.

Even though these colours are not really dark, they are closer to dark, and are appropriate for those June rainy days.

Maybe, I should write this post next year in June.

Selfie after the makeup shoot

Let’s Chat: What’s your favourite shade of makeup?

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Tuesday, 4 October 2016

Six Word Stories Found in my Creative Journal

Hello everyone!

Today, I stared at my creative journal and became angry with it. In the middle of the year, I thought the journal would be full before the start of October. Those days, I wrote and wrote and wrote and wrote. New ideas were coming and I wrote.

Writer’s block visited me and I was like, why now? It was my New Year goal not to see you at all, and you came without being invited.

I opened a page and saw an entry. The title was six word stories. I remember when I was in my teenage years (The most horrible years of my life), I wondered why there should be a story in six words. I mean, how possible? The writer must describe the dress the character is wearing, the environment, the situation at hand etc etc. So, I thought six word stories are not my thing. I see them to be titles.

But to my surprise, I wrote some this year. Somewhere in July, August, September?

These are six six-word stories I found in my writing journal.

1. I can’t have conversations with pictures

2. He became the word I love: Glorious.

3. I can never forget your stories.

4. The Beach and I: Friends Forever.

5. I drowned in his passionate kiss.

6. We all love somebody in overdose.

They were fun to write and very mysterious. I wanted to explain each of them, but I prefer to leave it look mysterious. I have become MYSTERY myself and I need to write one, too.

Let’s chat: Have you ever written any six word stories? Can I have a look? Tag me @MarieNoelGrant, both Twitter and Instagram.
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