I mentioned in my last column that even before I learned I was part-Jamaican, I already had a fondness for women from the country.
Relationship-wise, I must admit, it hasn’t always worked out well. In fact, more often than not, these affairs could be classified as broken, having involved broken hearts, broken promises, broken bottles, broken limbs — it hasn’t been pretty. That I managed to salvage a few friendships out of those fiascoes is nothing short of miraculous.
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