#88: Jenga in the dark

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Hi! I'm Shem Opolot, and this is The Friday Fix, my weekly newsletter. If you've received it, you’re either subscribed or someone forwarded it to you. If you fit into the latter (yes, I’m the kind of person who uses words like “latter”) camp and want to subscribe, then click on the shiny button below:

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Happy Friday 🎉 In 2023, in total, OnlyFans creators made more money (~$5.3Bn) than NBA players (~$4.8Bn) and Premier League players (< $5.3Bn). Seriously.
So…two things: 1) I’m considering changing the name of this newsletter to The Friday Fixxx, and 2) Where have your morals taken you?

LIFE.
🧱 Jenga in the dark.

I don’t know what the name “Opolot” means, and it pisses me off.

We’re losing recipes.

While writing some of these anecdotes, I struggle with—let’s pretend I’m a successful, multi-published author—first book syndrome. First-book syndrome is the tendency for a first-time writer to try to fit the whole world into their first book like they’re sitting on top of a swollen suitcase before a return journey from a trip when they had money.

Today was supposed to be one of those Fridays when I’d schedule this issue to go out while I slept. But I wrote this instead after chatting with my elder brother today. We talked about dating in your late 30s, and whew! The ghetto!

But my Health Communications class cut our conversation short, leaving me with a yarn of unknitted ideas.

After class, I ran into my classmate, who’s always down to procrastinate with me. I carried my ball of yarn, and we knitted an ugly, multicolored sweater with threads of African tradition, passing things down, Christian guilt, repression, chastity, and rumspringa. Talk about fitting the whole world into one conversation.

***

Speaking of African tradition, before my sister had her first period, Mummy prepared her. Mummy passed down this knowledge so skilfully and discreetly that none of us (my sister’s four brothers) knew when or how it happened. Yet we all shared a room with our sister. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever seen my sister’s sanitary pads.

But Mummy’s Mummy (Kuku) didn’t do the same for her.

I imagine young Mummy bled one day and was mortified, only to be “consoled” later by finding out she and all the other women in her life were united in this new monthly blood ritual. And that reprieve could only come by having a whole child. Yay!

I wonder why Kuku didn’t prepare Mummy for something so important.

Kuku must’ve had her reasons, but we can’t ask her now.

We lost those recipes.

If you can, start a video and audio series where you interview your parents, guardians, or elders you respect/love. Ask them about EVERYTHING. What they were like as kids, what they dreamed of, what they feared, what stupid things they did, what regrets they had, what cultures and traditions they were taught, which people they hurt, which people hurt them, which people they loved, what they chose to pass on to their kids, what they chose to omit. Everything.

Because, just like I can’t make chapati that tastes like Mummy’s (mainly because she measures ingredients with her eyes), we’re losing recipes.

And the recipes locked within your parents are like blocks of Jenga.

There’s nothing new under the sun, so you live like you’re playing Jenga. You move things around, extracting here and reinserting there, but you don’t get any higher. It’s hard, but you can strategize.

But, when you play Jenga in the dark, it’s hard to know if the piece you pull will fortify the structure or send it all clattering to the ground.

Culture can and should evolve, and it does, inevitably. You lose some good recipes, like making soft, pillowy chapatis, but you also lose some bad recipes, like staying in abusive relationships because, apparently, Jesus, the local gods, and your auntie hate divorce.

If you don’t talk to your elders, you can’t understand why things are the way they are. And you end up in a game of Jenga, looking at a protruding block, begging to be pulled, but having no sense of whether removing the block will make or break everything.

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THINGS.
A quote.

I attended an all-white brunch last weekend (relevant because, man, black people love an all-white theme), and Caroline stole the show with the most powerful speech.

Who you are is who you are. If you cannot be who you are where you are, you change where you are, not who you are.

Caroline A. Wanga, Essence Ventures

A picture.

Last weekend, I had the best dinner with a bunch of new and old friends. Everyone in the picture is single except me, so…DM for prices.

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WORK.
Everyone needs to know how to tell a story.

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FUN.
The Friday Fix Playlist

Shem’s picks

✅ Build your own aquatic ecosystem

✅ Explore Google’s “Ocean of Books.” (It’s pretty cool)

✅ A photographer takes pictures of abandoned buildings.

✅ Families that run their families like corporations.

Have a great weekend,

— Shem

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