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Leslie Musoko

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Member Since: Mar, 2010

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Dust Carried On The wind
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Blogs by Leslie Musoko

Rebel in disguise...
6/25/2010 5:24:24 PM
By the time I was sixteen reading had become one of my favorite past times in life. I think I must have completed my first story when I hit six. With the help of my mum I had read through the simple bed time stories that all children warm to and my first book was in the bag.
By the time I was sixteen reading had become one of my favorite past times in life. I think I must have completed my first story when I hit six. With the help of my mum I had read through the simple bed time stories that all children warm to and my first book was in the bag. Four years later I remember this one book I read, it was one of those books that cataloged fairy tales. It had about twenty of them, of non stop action from Hansel and Gratel to Rapunzel and Snow white and the seven dwarfs. I remember often being shouted at to turn off the lights in my room, yet I would break the rules and read with a candle that glowed in the darkness as I plowed through story after story. Eventually having read through all the stories I began seeking more to stimulate my imagination. I found those times fascinating as I moved on from the fairy tale world to that of hard core action and adventure. I took on books from Ian Fleming, Wilbur Smith and James Hadley Chase. I was moving up the ranks and needed better challenges and more scope. I needed my heroes to come up against all odds and seek success where none was forth coming. I did not necessarily think that all books had to have a happy ending. I had sampled Barbara Cartland and the Mills and Boons series that my sister read endlessly and even though I admired their sense of romance and adventure they lacked the stimulus that I needed for were I thought I was headed. I could hardly call myself a hero in any of these novels because most of them led a secure life. I always knew that the end was just a matter of time away to reveal the hero conquering the heart of the girl.
Then came the Robert Ludlum novels. Here I made history for myself buying all his books and reading as though there was no tomorrow. I even fell back in my school work as I found that the biology and chemistry lessons that one suffered strenuously to follow in class could not match the adventure and poise that was given to me in these books. However it was the time in school when I was maturing into a world where one was supposed to think like adults and be like an adult. Yet in this phase of our lives what came with that responsibility was the need to have a nick name that matched ones ability to reproduce that which was beyond all men. It was expected of me to have the best nickname since I read the most number of books but still at sixteen I had yet to find that name which I could cling on to. I had become fussy, not wanting to settle for any hero as there were so many and plenty to choose from. It was uncool to be called the obvious as one knew that these names were common amongst many. Some of my friends settled for footballers names like Mario Kempes and Socrates which was quite creative at the time yet in all my reading I could not find that hero that was exciting and at the same time intriguing to give me the depth and aptitude that would push me beyond others.
Our town had one great book shop, Pressbook, which strewed over its shelves, books from abroad some from neighboring countries such as Nigeria and others beyond the continent. One day I set out as was customary over every two week period to buy myself another novel with the little money I had managed to swindle from my dad. After scanning through numerous novels for a while I came across Chances by Jacky Collins, a writer that I had never come across before and immediately I was captivated. My search had been going on for months and even the African authors had failed to give me a name that could match my prowess in school. Suddenly I was faced with a writer who broke all the rules and plunged into scenes of mayhem and for the first time I wondered what it really was like being as wild and free as she portrayed her hero to be. In the book Gino Santangeloís life started out barren of the virtues of life as he was suffocated by poverty and hardship. This was ideal for me as I always liked my heroes to succeed from the depths of destitute. I admired the way in which his life had led him from the poorest parts of Italy into Europe and then eventually into the US were he became a gangster.
After reading through the book for a week I knew this was the nick name that I wanted. I wanted to be called Gino Santangelo and immediately set about my task at convincing the rest of my friends of this nick name. They loved it immediately and from henceforth I was called Santangelo every where I went to in town. I brought to life Jacky Collins novel giving it to all my friends to read and for them to understand how one manís life could move from a tortured youth into wealth just by sheer determination and strength of will. In this manner I set about living my life and trying to be my hero. I out thought most people easily as I engineered most of the thoughts that Gino had and the world erupted around me as I was rewarded with recognition for my ideas. I became the class prefect in the final year electing myself to the position and even scoring the grades that mattered. This was worthy of my nickname as in the book Gino was far cleverer than anyone he could come across. In this manner I set myself up for some of the adventures that would follow in life. I knew that most of them could not be garnered in my youth because of my environment as the people I associated with did not have the means to make this possible. However late at night and deep in the realms of my imagination I waited for my time and the right place. If Gino was capable of doing something then I too could do it. I could start out as Gino and discover what he had seen. It never crossed my mind back then that any thing that he had done could be considered morally incorrect or wrong to society. What was important to me was fulfilling a dream to the fullest and living without the boundaries that man had set. I was a rebel and one that had been spawn from a mystery of creation and like all rebels I searched for other denizens from my creation, if Gino found his in Europe then so would I.


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More Blogs by Leslie Musoko
• Loose End - Tuesday, August 13, 2013
• Stranger things have happened... - Tuesday, June 07, 2011
• Get in line sinner I was here first! - Saturday, June 04, 2011
• Word for word... - Sunday, May 29, 2011
• Ring Leader - Friday, May 20, 2011
• Friend or Foe.. - Monday, May 16, 2011
• Indelible Vision... - Thursday, May 05, 2011
• Take me back... - Friday, April 22, 2011
• Temporal Enemy - Monday, April 18, 2011
• Epistolary to the future - Wednesday, April 06, 2011
• Basket Case... - Saturday, March 26, 2011
• This child of mine is my favorite... - Wednesday, March 16, 2011
• High Wycombe... - Thursday, March 03, 2011
• When people talk... - Tuesday, February 22, 2011
• God's time is the best... - Friday, February 18, 2011
• Am I my brother's keeper? - Wednesday, February 09, 2011
• Look but don't touch! - Friday, January 21, 2011
• Best of three... - Wednesday, January 12, 2011
• Endangered Species... - Saturday, January 08, 2011
• Lost and found... - Tuesday, December 21, 2010
• Alpha Omega Sword... - Friday, December 17, 2010
• Spreading wings.... - Monday, December 06, 2010
• Faces... - Friday, December 03, 2010
• My french connection... - Tuesday, November 30, 2010
• A cross to bear... - Monday, November 22, 2010
• The hand that rocks the cradle... - Monday, November 15, 2010
• You may have problems but seriously mine are worse... - Sunday, November 07, 2010
• Life in the valley of bones... - Wednesday, November 03, 2010
• In sickness and in health till death do us part... - Friday, October 29, 2010
• I heard you were coming... - Sunday, October 24, 2010
• True yoke fellow... - Friday, October 22, 2010
• Benchmark... - Wednesday, October 20, 2010
• Pins and needles... - Sunday, October 17, 2010
• We run in different circles... - Monday, October 11, 2010
• Let bygones be bygones... - Friday, October 08, 2010
• A walk to victory... - Tuesday, October 05, 2010
• Black Book - Saturday, October 02, 2010
• There are two sides to this story... - Wednesday, September 29, 2010
• Tall, Dark and Ugly... - Saturday, September 25, 2010
• Law and behold... - Monday, September 20, 2010
• Eden's Charm... - Thursday, September 16, 2010
• Hard work can only get one so far... - Monday, September 13, 2010
• Dog eat dog... - Friday, September 10, 2010
• Orbit... - Tuesday, September 07, 2010
• Beauty and Bands... - Friday, September 03, 2010
• Eli - Friday, August 27, 2010
• Road Trip... - Tuesday, August 24, 2010
• Last Words... - Friday, August 20, 2010
• Places we return to time and again... - Tuesday, August 17, 2010
• Before Flashes... - Monday, August 16, 2010
• Stalking Caesar... - Friday, August 13, 2010
• Transcendence... - Wednesday, August 11, 2010
• Creature of habit... - Friday, August 06, 2010
• Bestowed... - Sunday, August 01, 2010
• Hot Pants! - Monday, July 26, 2010
• Behind the Scenes: Harlem Book Festival - Sunday, July 18, 2010
• Kissing Despair.... - Thursday, July 15, 2010
• Weekend Fever! Perhaps I caught something... - Monday, July 05, 2010
• The depth saith... - Saturday, July 03, 2010
• Divers Weights... - Monday, June 28, 2010
•  Rebel in disguise... - Friday, June 25, 2010  
• Magic Moments... - Wednesday, June 23, 2010
• Nocturnal to Diurnal... - Friday, June 18, 2010
• Ali Baba and the forty thieves - Wednesday, June 09, 2010
• A Poetry of Psalms - Friday, June 04, 2010
• Divinity Dawns - Friday, May 28, 2010
• One Mississippi, two Mississippi...cross - Tuesday, May 18, 2010
• War of the Roses Part II - Saturday, May 08, 2010
• War of the Roses Part I - Saturday, May 08, 2010
• Men behaving badly: Step into my shoes - Friday, April 30, 2010
• My Sidewinder: D-Day of Evil - Monday, April 26, 2010
• Tongue tied and breathing: The choir boy - Sunday, April 18, 2010
• Grey Matter: Putting Science into Art - Saturday, April 17, 2010
• A Writers Labyrinth: Drifting - Sunday, April 11, 2010


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