The Diary of Zahara Marley

Madonna’s recent adoption of the Malawian toddler David Banda might be the number one celebrity adoption story of the moment, but for the past few months, we at The Inquirer have been curious about the little Ethiopian girl who stole Angelina Jolie’s heart and single-handedly started Hollywood’s obsession with cuddly African orphans.

Her disappearance from the pages of the tabloids has genuinely troubled us. So we emailed. We called. We stalked. And in a stroke of almost unbelievable good fortune, Zahara Marley herself wrote back and granted us unfettered access to her private diaries.

After the jump, an Inquirer exclusive: the diary of Zahara Marley-Jolie-Pitt.

by Zahara Marley

July 26, 2006

Oh! It feels good to be writing again. I was an avid diarist in the orphanage.

Tonight, I shared some formula with Dad. Then took a bath with Mom. If only the girls could see me now! My room is huge. It seems like just the other day that I was a little orphan living in Ethiopia. I’m soooo grateful!

August 3

I’m very happy. I like my new family and my big brother, who is Chinese. I mean, Cambodian . . . Same thing, right?

August 13

It’s not a big deal, and I totally don’t want to seem ungrateful or anything, but I’m having issues with my new name. My issue is that it sucks and makes absolutely no sense. Zahara? What is that? A desert? A three-star casino?

And “Marley”? Don’t even get me started on that! What am I, Jamaican now? Guess we all look alike to you. Right, Mom? I hate you!

I need to hit the pacifier for a minute. This is too much.

August 18

Just got a call from a publisher in New York. They’re interested in a memoir. I have come up with a few titles I’m tossing around:

A Million Little Ethiopian AIDS Orphans
Million Dollar Baby: The Zahara Story

Anyway, something with the word “million” in it would be good. I would start writing it today, but I haven’t learned English yet. Partly because I’m Ethiopian, but really because I’m a baby, and my brain doesn’t have the capacity for language yet. Bill Cosby probably wouldn’t like to hear me say that. No excuses: I know, Bill!

August 29

Mommy and I shared dinner again. She then started making these silly oink-oink noises at herself in the mirror. It was actually really funny.

“You’re a fat pig,” she kept saying and laughing . . .

Wait, laughing is the one with the tears, right?

September 7

Can you keep a secret? Mom and Dad don’t know this, but I’m really thirty-two years old. I don’t age. Think Gary Coleman, Emmanuel Lewis, that fat kid on the Internet who raps.

I was around during the Stalinist junta in Ethiopia – tough times, indeed. I remember when I was just a wee baby with the dream of one day coming to Hollywood and making it big. Seems like so long ago.

Psyche!

I’m totally a real baby.

October 4

There’s so much jealousy. People see me on the cover of magazines, hanging out with big movie stars, kissing Brad Pitt and such, and they think, “You didn’t even audition for it, little bitch! I’ve been an Ethiopian AIDS orphan for years now and I never made the cover of US Weekly.”

People think it was luck that I made it this far, a little Ethiopian girl with big dreams. But don’t be fooled. It was hard work. Dear reader, my advice to you is: follow your dreams!

October 16

Saw the photos they took of me in People. Not thrilled. Look a bit chubby.

October 17

“Don’t you wish your girlfriend was hot like me!” I love that song. Poor Jennifer Aniston.

October 17

[I didn’t write that last entry.]

November 10

It’s been a while since I’ve written, and I’m having a bad day. That little Chinese kid is such an attention whore.

Believe it or not, but that haircut: Yeah, totally his idea.

What a tool.

I’ve also been pretty pissed lately because of this whole Madonna situation. I mean, sure she adopted a poor kid from Africa. But I read somewhere in the paper that they’re calling me, Zahara friggin’ Marley, a B-List AIDS orphan now.

WTF?!?

Just because the Material Girl adopts that little shit from Malawi, I suddenly become B-List. I started this trend, David Banda!!!!

God, he’s so fake. And he’s like old. He’s like older than me. That’s kinda sad when you’ve still got baby fat after a year of life.

That fat is permanent, Dave.

November 13

I think I’m going to have a nervous breakdown today . . . I’m so stressed out about my diapers . . . It’s just that . . . I just . . . I just peed in them . . . in my diapers . . . Bwaaaah!!!

No I don’t need a wipe, you whore! I need Zoloft! Zahara wants Zoloft, Zoloft, Zoloft!!!

November 13

Feeling a lot better now. Diapers clean. Mind purified. Did yoga.
No, seriously, I do yoga.

November 13

I think I might be manic-depressive. My diapers are just so . . . peed upon right now. This is so embarrassing . . . I want to end it all. I’m useless. Look at these useless feet! These useless gummy teeth! Look at me!!!

November 18

Mom and Dad took me to an Ethiopian Church the other day.

There were lots of Zahara wannabes there at church, bawling all through the service for attention. (That is definitely NOT how to get on the cover of US Weekly; I should know.) Everyone looked like me and not like Mom and Dad, which was weird. You’d think, since they’re the big celebrities, that people would copy them instead of me. But I guess it’s because I’m the new hip thing.

Fuck David Banda! (Yeah, Zahara said it.)

It’s sad when you think about it. How, like, you’re on the cover of a magazine and everyone immediately wants your style. People are pathetic sometimes.

I’m getting tired of LA. Considering going back to Ethiopia.

I would go, too.

But Mom and Dad are so fucking hot!!!

Comments

[megan]

brillant!