Real Conch salad man born and raised in California
Teaching Bahamians the technique of Conch salad
My bey from the States will be having a how to make top of the line Conch salad classes this coming April 1, 2025 It’s going to be an island to island tour starting in Nassau. The class price is $2,500.00 for 6 weeks teaching how to make all of these in the picture.
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Don’t miss the chance to learn the art of Conch salad making $2,500.00 6 weeks course BTV first stop.
Good afternoon Bahama Drama and please keep me anonymous. I ve never really told anyone this and honestly I never thought I d say anything about it. But after all these years the guilt s been eating at me. So here goes just know I m not proud of it but I did what I had to do.
I m in my 50s now living a quiet life in South Carolina but 30 something years ago I did something I can never undo. I was just a kid then really early 20s full of excitement and naĂŻve enough to think the world was one big adventure. My boyfriend and I had saved up and decided to go to Panama thinking we d soak up the culture meet people and just have fun. We had no idea what we were walking into.
We were in Casco Viejo enjoying the nightlife dancing drinking like we were invincible. But looking back I see how stupid we were especially me. I trusted everyone. A female bartender kept recommending drinks and I thought nothing of it. I mean she was nice right Friendly probably just doing her job. What I didn t know was that she was setting us up. She was slipping something into my boyfriend s drinks something that made him pass out but not me. No I was still there still aware.
Once he dropped I knew something wasn t right. And that s when I saw them these men in the club who d been waiting for him to fall. They started closing in on me. I was scared too scared to scream or run. They were whispering in my ear and I remember thinking This is it. But I didn t know how much danger I was really in until I ended up in the restroom.
One of the men followed me grabbed me and pushed me into one of the stalls. I tried to fight him off but he was too strong. It felt like forever but in that moment all I could think about was surviving. I knew he had a knife and it was on the floor when I kicked it out of his hand. I didn t think didn t plan. I just reacted. I grabbed that knife and went for him.
It s a blur but I remember stabbing him repeatedly in the throat. I didn t stop until he stopped moving. And when I did I stood there in shock staring at what I d just done. The blood the life draining from him. I didn t know if I was going to be caught or if I d even make it out of there alive.
But I didn t wait around for the cops. I couldn t. I pulled my boyfriend out of that place as quickly as I could dragging him back to our hotel. He was unconscious the whole time and when he finally woke up the next day I told him what happened. I told him about the man about what I did in the restroom.
I still feel the weight of that day especially now with all this time between then and now. I m not asking for sympathy or forgiveness. I just wanted to tell someone to finally say out loud what I ve carried with me for so long. Maybe I shouldn t have done it. But in that moment I didn t have a choice.
It s not something I can forget but I do live with it. I live with the fact that I killed a man to save myself. And I ve had to keep it a secret all these years even though I still feel guilty about it. But now sharing it here it feels like I can breathe a little easier.
Thank you for listening but does anyone else feel bad about something that you did in your past?
My husband cooks and cleans for me but to him I can’t be true
My husband eh all dat smart but he good enough for me to use ya hear he cook clean nuff nuff and I don’t do nothin back not a ting not even a lil “thank ya” but why would I I don’t need to thank him when he supposed to serve me right
I does cheat on him cuz why not I mean he dere doin wut he s’posed to but me I out livin big time dis body too sweet to just be for one man and dey does line up for me yinna tink I gon’ tell dem no I don’t even know how much man I done had prolly more than one hunnid
But my man he’s dumb dumb I could tell him da moon purple and he believe me he don’t even question where I gone when I disappear for days I tell him I at church sometimes and he just smile like a fool
Oh and baby dem nah dey can’t happen I doh got time for no baby cryin and takin up my space soon as I feel one tryin to grow inside me I handle dat right quick cuz me and a baby can’t share dis world me too precious to be sharin spotlight
Y’all prolly mad mad right now but who care bout yinna thoughts yinna jealous I could see it.
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Couldn’t you have sent this message in English Miss? You remind me of the lady in this movie but I forgot the name of it.
Good morning, Bahama Drama. Please keep me anonymous.
I just wish the police officers and immigration officers here on Briland, Eleuthera, would do better. On this island, these foreigners are getting away with committing fraud, and they’ll do anything for a couple of dollars. I mean, these are people you’re supposed to trust.
Tell me, how is it possible for a foreigner to get a spousal permit approved without their spouse even being interviewed? It’s a shame! These people are trying to take over, and those fools are helping them do it.
Good afternoon, Bahama Drama. Keep me anonymous because I already know people will hate me for this, but honestly, I don’t care. My neighbor is dying after a bad car accident, and the hospital says he needs blood to survive. We have the same blood type, but I’m not donating. Not because of some deep principle or beliefsimply because I don’t want to.
Sure, we grew up together. Brentwood Elementary, Carol City, Miami. We shared classrooms, played games, and grew up side by side. But none of that matters now. I don’t feel anything for him or his family. They’re just faces in the background to me. Even if he wasn’t a MAGA Trump supporter, I still wouldn’t help him. Why should I? What do I gain from it?
And his family? Please. Yes, he has a wife who will be a widow if he dies. Yes, he has a 3-year-old daughter with special needs. But what does that have to do with me? His death will ruin their lives, but that’s their problem. I don’t care if they cry, if they’re broken, if his daughter grows up without a father. None of that matters to me. People die every day. Why should this man be any different? Let them suffer.
I see no reason to save someone who contributes nothing to my life. His politics make him even more unworthy in my eyes, but honestly, I wouldn’t lift a finger for him no matter what he believed. This world doesn’t owe anyone anything. If he dies, that’s just the way it is.
I follow all the news headlines and I enjoy the chaos and the stories. I even visited Nassau with my family once and had a good time. But this isn’t about the Bahamas. It’s about the simple fact that I do what I want, and I feel nothing for people who don’t matter to me. Call me heartless. Call me evil. I don’t care.
If his wife has to bury him and his daughter grows up asking why daddy isn’t around, so what? That’s their pain, not mine. This isn’t about politics anymore. It’s about the fact that I don’t care enough to help. Period. Life is cruel, and I’m just another part of that cruelty. Let him bleed out. It makes no difference to me.
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There’s a special place in hell for people like you Sir.
