Surrealism at work, Bollywoodian Shakespeare, remembering physics lessons and shameful treatment of Tsvangirai

Over the last few days I have increasingly felt as if I am living in a scene from The Emperor’s New Clothes. I attended a few meetings with very senior policy makers at work to examine new proposals about work related issues. I was appalled at the disconnect between some of what they are proposing and the realities on the ground so to speak. I suppose this is one of the challenges of being a policy maker- how do you keep in touch with the realities on the frontline and take these into account when making decisions. I’m sure they are many ways of doing this effectively but for whatever reason they seem not to be working with us at the moment. I’ll keep giving my views, but it looks like the bosses’ minds are made up…Oh well, we’ll just have to wait and see how it all pans out. I wonder who’ll be picking up the pieces though…

Two nights ago, a friend invited me to a play, a South Asian interpretation of Shakespeare’s Midsummer Night’s Dream. As I had studied it at school in Nigeria for a literature class in secondary school, I was keen to go. It was quite interesting with over eight different languages spoken- including a lover’s conversation where the actor spoke in Hindi while his lover responded in English. It was quite interesting because even without subtitles it seemed to work- you got the essence of the scenes whether you understood what the actors were saying or not. I did wonder though if it wasn’t a bit stereotypical- the bright colours and Bollywood like chorus and dance routines. If you’re in London, it’s worth dropping by. It’s at the Roundhouse in Camden…http://www.roundhouse.org.uk/whats-on/productions/a-midsummer-night-s-dream-755

On the tube this morning, on my way to work, I was standing and reading a book and there was no space for me to hold on to. Which meant that when the train shuddered to a stop, I found myself struggling to keep from toppling over. I soon realized that by standing with my legs spread out, I was able to maintain a sense of balance- which then took me back to my early physics lessons and Mr O’s lessons about a low centre of gravity and how by lowering your centre of gravity, you reduce the chances of toppling over. Who would have thought that those long-ago lessons in a dusty Nigerian classroom would find such immediate application here?

Yesterday, the photographs of a bruised and battered Morgan Tsvangirai, leader of the opposition in Zimbabwe on the front cover of many newspapers shamed me- as it ought every African. No matter what your position on Zimbabwe is, this level of violence is simply unacceptable. It puts into perspective recent references to a police state in the UK and Nigeria by different commentators. I was so disturbed by the picture that for the first time I've actually worked out how to upload photos to my blog. The picture is from sudonline.sn. even though I haven't got it exactly in the right place....