The tipping point. Five months later.

Sunday morning, laying in my bed with my laptop, sipping my coffee, surfing the net. Probably something I have been doing every Sunday morning since 1996. If you look past the veneer, its not the same thing at all. Surfing at 30 kilobytes / second is the first thing. Then there is the excruciating heat, which is why I am still in my bedroom, its the only room with AC in the house. And, I am typing my blog entry. I have been keeping a blog for about 10 years. However, today its different.Today, I am under the threat of censorship. And I am mad as hell.

I purposely did not mention my NGO's name for the sake of privacy and protection of their work, and for my own safety as well. I don't want any stalkers. But lately, some of my colleague's blogs have taken a weird turn. Some of the stuff they are writing is too rose colored. To the point, where it made me wonder what was going on. Well, wonder no more, I found out.

Tomorrow the big bosses are coming down from Ouagadougou for a meeting with all the volunteers who are placed in Bobo. I recently received an email from my program manager to schedule a meeting with her and the Director 2 hours before the start of the actual meeting. The topic for the meeting: "Your blog" as she put it. To which I promptly replied that I would be happy to meet them, and talk about my placement, talk about volunteering, my performance in the placement, or anything other related to my work, but I told them the blog was another story.

See, one of the volunteers, in her usual «I know better» way of doing things, decided to email the bosses in Ouagadougou our blog addresses and tell them they should read our blogs. Thanks a lot. Although the internet is a free and public space, and that you can pretty much expect anyone to access your website, there is a certain level of common sense I have come to expect from my colleagues. Stabbing me in the back, is not something I expect. 

So, I am ready to go to war on this one. I am against censorship. In all its forms. I don`t care what you write, or who you are insulting, if you want to say something, you should be able to say it. And just because, some old farts with bluing hair feel that I should not use words like "fuck" and "shit" in my blog, this gives them no right to become the police of the internet. What the fuck is that about? It really, really, makes me want to kick something.

So yeah, in anticipation of my meeting, which is to be held tomorrow morning at 7:30am GMT, which I am willing to bet will not start on time, with the big bosses, I have been thinking about my strategy. What I am going to tell them, and what I am willing to accept... and you know, I just can't come up with anything other than : don`t tell me what to write on my own damn blog. We are sent here in a mission of "Skills reinforcement" well maybe the bosses need a lesson in Free Speech and Freedom of the Press.  You know they kill reporters here? Yup, they do. So, it might be normal for them to think they can control my keyboard. 

I am dead serious about this, this is non-negotiable for me. If I can't keep my blog, then I can't keep my placement in Burkina either. I will go home over this, if thats what it takes.

I am on the war path.

Friday I fired my cleaning lady. Enough is enough. I got tired of her constant demands for money. And on top of it, I suspect that she was stealing food and money from me. Not to mention that she never listened to anything I asked of her. I fully realize that putting an end to her employment was a big blow to her. It was very difficult to do, especially when she started crying and begging me to change my mind, that she would do anything to keep her job. Well, too little too late. It was to the point where she drove me crazy so bad, that I did not want to come out of my bedroom for fear she might start talking to me. Thats when I knew she had to go. I don't particularly feel like going into the details of the whole thing, because, frankly, I am so tired of the situation I just want to put it behind me, but I will say this: when I spoke of what was going on with some Burkinabè they all told me that I had to fire her. Not "should", or "might want to" or "consider", no, they all agreed she had to be let go. I gave here 2 months salary as compensation, and I really hope she can find something else. As for me, for now I am doing my own cleaning and cooking.  I rearranged the kitchen so that it made more sense, and that there was more room.

And thats the way I saw it the past few days. Never a dull moment in this crazy world.