Friday, February 9, 2018


Every day I am at work by 7.15am sharp. The deadline is 7.30. For the eleven months plus a few days I’ve been working in the small school where I teach primary school students whose age range is between six and eight, I have never gotten to work late. In some respects the job is satisfactory __ You kinda feel like a potter moulding the lives and destinies of bright young minds.
But there are days I cannot help but remember my more carefree days. When I was in a College of Education in a very small town called Ondo State which I am sure many have never heard of. Life was easier then __ no drag of nine to five __ no bills to pay __ just getting through the academic hurdle so I could be handed my degree.
Truth be told I did more playing than reading. Let me fill you in on a little back story. I never wanted to be in a College of Education. In my country being in a college of education meant you had to teach and back then boy did I not want to be a teacher. The ironic part is I ended up doing just that.
But I digress __ I hated every minute of being there for the first six months until I made some friends. They were actually friends of my younger brother who became my friends when I found myself in the same class as him.
We had so many wild escapades together. One time my brother and I; hellions that we were, stumbled on a knee high bottle of our dad’s hundred percent whisky. Ecstatic with our find we called the guys together and decided to throw a little shindig. Joshua or Josh as we like to call him got a couple of girls together, including a vacant apartment which would serve as the venue. The speed with which he got things together took my breath away. What none of us stopped to consider was if our bodies could stand the strain of a hundred percent alcohol whisky.
The party arrived, girls turned up in droves and we got the music going. Some of my luckier dudes (my brother inclusive) retired to some of the spare rooms to make out with girls.
I remember Josh racing to me with a cup of this whisky, was hesitant about tasting it. Something in my gut warned me it wouldn’t end well. Josh seeing I wasn’t going to go down without a fight persuaded me the only way he could. He challenged my manhood. Saying I was a chicken, that even the girls took a good swig of it.
Stung by his words I took a generous gulp. It only took a few seconds and I started having reactions. First came the warmth, the intense happiness and the pricking sensation behind my eyeballs. It was as if a sharp needle was trying to poke its way out of the back of my corneas.
A little worried now; I called Josh and asked him if he was having a pricking sensation behind his eyeballs. He reacted the way only Josh could; laughter __ a long bout of annoying laughter.
Before I completely lost sense of what was happening boys and girls who’d dared the hundred percent alcohol whisky started acting very strangely. One girl sat down with her head between her legs and started laughing uncontrollably.
Another of my friends leapt on a car and started doing a Michael Jackson impression. He was barely halfway through when he suddenly collapsed on the hood of the car and conked out until morning.
My brother and one of his girlfriends (and yeah he had many) stumbled out as if hit on the head with a hammer. There was a shallow gutter a few metres away from the house’s entrance. He made it to the edge before kneeling down and throwing up uncontrollably. The most disturbing part was __ whenever he came up for air he’d release a guffaw of what could best be described as maniacal laughter.
He vomited for close to thirty minutes and laughed for another forty. By which time his girlfriend was convinced he’d gone insane. I got off the hood of the car I’d been sitting on and managed to make it into the apartment. My destination was one of the rooms but I could only make it as far as the couch where I passed out for the night. My sleep was dreamless. Like someone hit me over the head with a hammer.
When I woke up my friends regaled me stories of what happened after I slept. We reached an unspoken decision never to raid our father’s liquor closet again.

Some of the girls aren’t speaking to us till today, and I can’t say I blame them. 

Friday, July 7, 2017

A crippling bride price

Her eyes were clouded with pain ___ the pain wasn't dissimilar from the one in my heart. I hated to see her this way. It hurt me more than anything. The worst part was, she felt this pain because of me. She was literally fighting to be with me.
Her parent's for lack of a better adjective to use are 'tools!' A wise man once postulated that the enemies of a man are in his house. I used to think people from the east were beautiful people. My mum hails from the eastern part of the country and she is one of the most beautiful and sacrificing people I know. My dad ___ well___ let's just say there is literally no one on the planet earth that is quite like him. You decide if I mean that in a good way __ lol
But these easterners that call themselves mother and father to the girl of my dreams are some of the worst people I have ever seen. A Yoruba man without much experience relating with easterners might be tempted to think every easterner is a money grubbing blood sucking tick. Fortunately having related with my mum for thirty seven and a half years I am able to give the benefit of the doubt that perhaps all easterners aren't like this.
I want to marry their daughter; no harm no foul, a man's gotta get hitched sometime. And if you've get a caring, loving and seductive beauty hanging on your every word you'd want to tie the knot as soon as possible. Until perhaps her dad goes home under the guise of securing the marriage list (dowry) and you discover he is trying to bill you over Three Million Naira just because you want to marry his daughter. I chuckle as I write this, asking myself if he ever thought to ask if I have seen that amount of money in my life.
My journey to marry has been ___ well __ a blessing (speaking through the veil of hope). My mother took one look at the list and bailed vowing never to darken the steps of the (as she put it) FOOLISH MAN. But it gets worse __ after my dad and I being diplomatic appealed to him to accept between a hundred and fifty thousand and two hundred thousand (which I'd still have had to save for). He now gave the knock out punch.
He said even if I was dropping that small amount of money I'd have to sign a sort of MOU. Put it in writing and sign that I am still owing him money. My dad and I were speechless! It was surreal. It got us wondering whether he was in the business of selling his daughters. A daughter I might add he did not train. She has been doing all manner of menial jobs to see herself through school from a very young age. And most times when she brings her salary home under the guise of saving it for her he spends it on his own needs. His wife seems very supportive of this. Which makes me wonder; if one has parents' like that you really do not need enemies.
I have gotten a lot of friendly advice, from friends, spiritual fathers, family, the whole nine yards. The general consensus is I leave the girl and find someone else. The old person I used to be might have. But I will stick it out __ as long as she remains determined to be with me. The sun is rising across the deep.
Parents out there __ please listen to this. Your children are not commodities you batter and trade with at will. Your children are not bank accounts or safety deposit boxes that you can keep going out to withdraw as you please. The bible says a responsible parent will leave an inheritance for his children and children's children. It is good if your children take care of you when you're older but you shouldn't toy with their destinies cos you want to become a millionaire overnight. Easterners in Nigeria, hear this and hear this well. Stop selling your daughters __ a good son in law who sees how fair you were when giving out your daughter will always respect and admire you for it. And if he is decent will make sure he does everything to treat the girl well. A word is enough for the wise.

Monday, May 29, 2017

Diary of a lost lonely woman vol 2

I remember that December as if it were yesterday... The harmattan season had just kicked in.. the chill was everywhere.. we were days away from exams and my school fees had not been paid.

I stared at the plate of cake in front of me astounded at the obtuseness and insensitivity of my so called loving boyfriend's. They showered me with useless gifts instead of giving me something I could really use... Like MONEY!

Sam and Joshua were even better.. it was that creep Henry that was the worst. My body started to get all tingly as I thought of him. The familiar flood of self loathing filled me.

It never ceased to amaze how I could still be in love with that piece of crap after all he'd done to me. I was for lack of a better term nothing more than a bitch to him. Tears filled my eyes and I rubbed them away fiercely. Now was not the time to pine and cry over spilt milk. It didn't solve my immediate problem. MY BLOODY SCHOOL FEES!!

Just then my room mate walked in. Everyone knew what sort of person she was. I was small fry. Someone like her didn't soil her breeches by messing with small fry like I did. The boys at school were beneath her. She dealt with me. REAL men! Elderly, with plenty of cash to burn. Not sure why her eyes drifted my way that day. Usually the only greeting I expected from her was a perfunctory nod in my direction

But that day she took one look at me and asked "What's wrong?" In retrospect I think she probably sensed easy prey... Gullible gal's like me she could bend to her will by showing a little care and concern.

Sad to say I bought into her crap and found myself telling her everything. She gave me one look after I was done and chuckled. "Is that all? I thought you had cancer or something. Well that's not a problem. Are you serious about getting a solution to your school fees problem?"

I nodded violently. She smiled again and said ____ "Then it's settled__ we're going out tonight. There is someone I want to introduce you to who can make all your financial problems go away."

I sat up, really interested. "Who is this man? What is his name?"

"His name my dear is Mustapha Hajji. And he is the only man who can give you what you need. See you at nine pm."

And with a swirl of her wide skirt she was gone. I pondered on her words for nearly an hour afterwards. I didn't realize then that was the beginning of another chapter in my life... The GENESIS of my downward spiral to destruction and loneliness. That was the day I met Mustapha Hajji.... More when we speak again 

Thursday, April 27, 2017

Diary of a lost lonely woman

People speak of luck and love as if they're two things every human being is automatically born with.
But that would be a lie. I have for the most part found myself to be unlucky in love. I grew up believing all the crock... You watch Disney movies long enough and you might be tempted to believe happily ever after actually exists. I was the more deceived. 
School; and when I say school I mean higher institution, was every hormone crazy boy or girls wet dream. 
The freedom was invigorating. You could do anything you wanted to do and no one was there to nag or lecture you.
I didn't know it at the time but that was when my dance with the devil began. I had a boyfriend... It was such an exciting experience that I said to myself why stop at one? Then I got another and then another... The power I wielded over the seemingly gullible guys who fell over themselves to satisfy my every whim was an intoxicating rush that cannot be put into words. 
One was different from the rest. His confidence and sheer masculine attraction was almost too much to bear. He quickly cast his spell and instead of being the player I was the one being played. 
It was inevitable.. sex came.... And I found myself a slave. He dumped me when the euphoria of our countless sexual encounters wore off. It was then I understood the game.
I changed.. evolved... It became not about the rush, the physical extremities of pleasure... No.... Nothing as blaise or inconsequential as that. It became about the money.... I'll tell you more about it when next I come visiting... Until then.... Bon voyage

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Tuesday, April 25, 2017

The world we live in

We live in a world rife with injustices. A world of unfairness, unfaithfulness, seeded with corruption. A world where right is categorized as wrong, and wrong categorized as right.
I live in a world of beautiful scenery, prettier people, with a heart for giving; hardworking, relentless, willing to pursue their objectives in spite of the ugly cards life has dealt them. It’s here you find people going about their business; to church, work, the million other places normal people go; even when an uncaring government doesn’t pay them their dues.
This is a world where people build beauty out of ashes. A country where mothers do all to ensure their wards don’t go hungry. A world where constant power is something of a distant memory; a world where leaders tell us we should be grateful to receive what citizens in other countries call rights.
They steal our money, smear our honour and the worst part is we give them a hero’s welcome after their dastardly deeds come to light. We are for lack of a better term idiotic and foolish; the bane of the average Nigerian. Personally I don’t blame the bloodsucking leaders. I blame the citizen’s, the ruled who are unwilling to get off their fat butts and tell these godless despots that they aren’t doing what they ought to do. We simply celebrate them, sing their praises to high heavens just cos of a bowl of porridge, the five thousand, two thousand, ten thousand they give to sell your soul to the devil.
This is our world. This is our time ___ a mineral resource filled goldmine, a perfect creation of the divine. This is black world, a black Nirvana; a place I’ll like to call merry ol’ Nigeria. 

Saturday, January 28, 2017

The Devil

People speak of the devil like he is one far off distant figure. But I'll have you know he dwells amongst us. I see him in people, in things, in happenings all around the globe. Fortunately these happenings have so far steered clear of me...Not cos of my own right doing but cos of the Lord's mercy.
 The devil walks amongst us... The Prince of this world. Bringing death and destruction on those who refuse God's mercy.I see him in fights you have with loved ones. I see him present when a husband murders his wife in cold blood.I see him when a man abandons his family and flees with another woman. I see him when wars and rumours of wars rise beyond the horizon.He is a creature of deception. And if care is not taken he will deceive God's elected.
 I see nations overtaken by hunger, I see dead bodies litter a once pristine landscape casualties of an eternal war.... Lambs to the slaughter. If there is evil in any man we know who is his master. Man is good, and yet evil, a continuous battle forever raging. Whichever part he feeds becomes that which he is.
 I see you out there trying to lure me out of here... from under bosom and canopy of the Lord God. Hear my words. Pity you can't read these thoughts. I am not lost, I am hidden. In the arms of he who loves me. I recognize you are the devil but I am a god and with the backing of my father you have no place with me. You are the devil... I am God! I dwell in him through Jesus Christ who is one with him. I see the devil but not with me...
 I see him in the darkness surrounding the earth. This is a call to all others. Run this race, look to the one who persevered to the end.The devil's influence has come to an eternal end. Where do I begin? Let me start at the time where things didn't go as well as they do now. It's time for me to FLY... to the top ___ above the mountains where he and his minions will never find me

Monday, January 23, 2017

Granny's gone

Granny's gone
When I thought about her yesterday morning I never thought 3 am today will be when she'll sing her final song
This is wrong...
God I failed her in all ways not missing one
Granny now that you're gone I see so many ways I went wrong
I had it all mapped out.. it was figured
What arrogance on my part to think I couldn't be wrong
And I was wrong. Terribly so...
Life and it's great odds didn't allow me to do what I should have done.
I should have bought you a car. I should have built you a house. I should have called you more
I should have done it all.... 
Sadly it wasn't enough. And now you're gone I feel dazed and lost. I thought we had more time. I hoped I could increase the line.
I didn't know I would have this ache in my heart and my spine. Because I didn't do all you would have liked
You've been such an integral part of my life. I am not one of those guys who'd cry... But it's like there is a hole... A void... In the center of my being that I know nothing will ever fill. You were everything and more to me
I am sorry I never got many more times to say it. I remember the times I ran around in your peaceful little compound in Offa
I remember running to the library in Adesoye to borrow books. I remember how you smiled when you saw me bent over reading
I remember you correcting my essays. I realize now you were the genesis of my writing career. You sparked the flames that are slowly burning worldwide. 
I failed you in life but I won't fail you in death. My next two books will be dedicated to you. I will become a bestselling author to fulfil a mere smudge of the great legacy you left to many who love you. This I owe to you.
Sleep tight granny, hope I see you at the other side where there is no pain and endless dew. See you when I see you