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Back Home Baby: The Shame Series

You know that Toyota, with a big rear end.

To be honest I can't remember its name. Stuck in a narrow road with my blond American hair I knew that all the years I had toiled out in the diaspora fighting for a life free from Sugar daddies hadn't turned out fair. The initial pleasantries of a return back home had simmered, everything slowed down, the weekdays came and went with everyone busy at their professional jobs, fancy cars, and well-organized to- do's and to-go's. Returning to beloved Uganda dawned on me------ a big mistake!.

Life back home was so expensive I couldn't breathe- no more Dunkin Donuts coffee- there was fancy 'Starbucks like cappuccino', but my purchasing power was dwindling fast. There I was on a dirt road in the Toyota I had saved up for ---and yes you guessed it, got duped. It was not the version I had saved for -or imagined my dollars purchased. The singlehood I was running away from was deepening amidst the cross-over to 30z confusion. Everyone and her hootchie sister were rising up a career- business ladder, and or down the aisle so capably- not me. Just then a huge Mercedes Benz charged ever so elegantly toward me. I waited for it to pass-heavy with my thoughts and this new mineral makeup that wasn't working for me( mental note to self--return to MAC, try FIT ME or anything else).

Hello girl! when did you come back- gosh I knew the Mercedes owner, she was a class behind me in high school and the joy that overflowed from her ' hello' confirmed the wealthy dude she had scored, luxurious mansion laced with Dubai holidays. I am sorry I wasn't thinking feminist that day- the shame flow took over, here we go another one made it across the wealth marriage Goodlife track and sister big booty here had nada.

This is fiction y'all

Holla Back.



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