Poison

 

“Am I just a fool? Blind and stupid for loving you?”

Nicki Minaj’s Grand Piano plays inside your ears. You increase the volume and fix the earphones perfectly to fit your ears. The beat hits your heart. The climax shreds you. Nicki sang this just for you, you conclude.

“The people are saying that you have been playing my heart. Like a grand piano”.

The chorus continues and somewhere inside your heart, a string is struck. Your eyes, already a reservoir of unshed tears turns red. Red with water. Like blood, saturated. You begin to remember. Days unspent. Words unspoken. You flashback to those moments. Months ago. When your hands were held in hers. When she waltzed with you on the marble floors of this same sitting room. As a mirage, your brain welcomes her image, dancing to Ed Sheeran’s “Kiss Me” with the candles lit. Red and white candles. You reach out to touch her but she goes. Disappears into thin air. Your breath comes in instalments. Short gasps you struggle with. The memories you shared chokes you.

“Have I been a fool? Wrapped up in lies and foolish truths”

The next verse comes on and the tears hidden beside your ducts freely flow down. You were in love, but, now, you know not what you feel.

Beautiful Rebecca. The one you would die for. You remember the last time you saw her and more tears escape your eyes. You remember. It all comes to you. How you found the remainder of your life, clothless as Eve, sweaty, gripping hard to and clawing with her nails at the fellow. The bastard. You hear her moans then her screams. High pitched screaming all over again. You see her under your twin brother. Your identical twin brother. She wasn’t confused. She knew. It was intentional. She said she was a virgin and on your matrimonial bed, she will give her body to you. Same body your twin brother was furiously banging. You hear her moan one last time in your head. Her pleasure, your pain.

“Cold hearted shame, you remain just a frame in the dark”

The knife goes into your heart

Ayomide Babaleye

Dusk to dawn and dawn back to dusk, my round buttocks resides in this chair. This white, plastic chair whose hands have both been removed by small, firm legs that jump on it for play. The white is gradually becoming a pale grey colour and though it still has its four legs, it wobbles and almost always throws me down. I know because I bought it myself. Tunde and Temitayo, his twin sister I have warned severally to play with the other toys that abound everywhere in the house but, no, they choose my personal hang out, my own chair as their ferris wheel and swing. Tell me, how wont it break?

I like to sit close to the window while it rains. The comforting smell of nature mixed with the fragrance of pure heavenly water always figures how to beckon on me. I am lucky I live upstairs where the rain hits hard on the roof and that sound, which I move my legs to remind me of my Tope whose drum sticks broke my pot. I refused to buy him a drum set and he went AWOL. What manner of child that is, I have no idea. But, its not his fault. Its Enitan, his mother's fault. Spoiling this trio anyhow and bringing them to me to spend the holidays with. I am the only one who can tolerate mad children, she thinks. She thinks because they went to America, common America, they had the right to turn their children into wild animals.

Oladayo, my assistant has even gotten tired of this children and whenever she has the time, she will lock them in the "cell" for inappropriate behaviour while she walks down the road with me to have a feel of the atmosphere. She has done that today again and now, I'm walking down the road with her. The beautiful Dayo. She is the only thing I once had that I still have. Since my sister left me and taught that these her rascals were a consolation for her never visiting and my husband, long disappeared from the surface of my life never giving my a call, Dayo has stuck to me like glue on paper. The way I love the girl.

She says all roses are red but, no, I know they aren't. Why argue with a scholar like me? I read about all those things. Biochemistry in the University of Ibadan and she still has the mind to argue with me?

I can keep on talking and talking and talking because well, that's the only thing I can do now. Rant on and on and on about everything I used to know which I'm no longer sure of.

I don't have kids. They are all dead. Dayo is my only child. Well, apparently. I only have my mouth and my years of experience as my defence.

Life is not easy for a lady like me. You would think my life is just like yours but, really, it isn't.

I cant see anything but, I know when I'm done, Dayo, would come and edit my work and send to the magazine where she got me a job as a freelancer.

This is me, Ayomide Babaleye, the blind thirty year old lady that lives down Olatunbosun Close, Isolo, Lagos.

SCARED

Two weeks had passed since the last attack, yet, Adaure fidgeted at every sound she heard or thought she had heard. That morning, she had woken up with hot lines of perspiration running down her face at a sound she thought were footsteps. These weren't thoughts, she concluded, after hearing similar sounds again closing in on her. She opened her eyes and with the nonrhythmic beat playing in her head, a combo of her pulsating heartbeat, the drum rolling in her head and the incessant pounds in her ears, she managed to get a grip of herself and felt her way in the pitch darkness to where her switches were to find light which would guide her to a spot she could find her newly purchased ruger.  On second thought, she decided to find her way to the guest room in the darkness, after all, it was her house. Hands on either side of the wall, she moved her legs. Her right leg led the way and as the left leg accompanied it, she began to count her steps. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7...her hands touched wood and she digested the thought that she was definitely touching a door. She felt for the knob and opened it. luckily for her, the shoes she had earlier flung during her romp with the dandy random man from the bar down the road were still on the floor and of course, that was her guest room. Moving her hands side by side, left and right, up and down, she finally got to her small box which was hidden somewhere behind the bed. She opened it, brought out her ruger and smiled.

However, as she began to retrace her steps back to her room to await whatever fate would befall her, she hit the box and it fell down, making a clattering noise as it was a stainless steel box, specially customized for her. At that moment, she heard the footsteps coming closer. She picked up the box and placed it back in its former location. Standing back to arrange herself, she stood face to body with a structure that she quickly acknowledged was a man.

Before she could open her mouth to shout for help, something slim and cold was placed on her neck...

TO BE CONTINUED... 

African Daughters

I am walking home from school now. I decided to take the long road today because I feel like walking and I do not want to go the market to grind beans for moin-moin. My trick is to walk very slowly and follow an impossibly long road so that mummy will get tired of waiting for me and send my sister to grind the beans instead. Haha!😏😏

I have begun te long walk. Today, I wrote my final papers for the term and come September, I will be in SS3. Big Girl!

On the other side of the road, a boy is looking at me, one very weird kind of look. Now, he is licking his lips and winking at me. Ehn! I give him a look that would surely give him a daymare and he runs along like a squirrel that he is. Rubbish. Somebody else is coming behind me, walking as if the ground is rejecting his legs. Now, he has walked past me. Its even a guy, cat walking like a girl. "Nneka must hear this", I say to myself and laugh out loud. He turns back at me and I turn back at empty space as if I don't know he is looking at me. Now, a car is coming down the road, a Mercedes. Kai! I will drive that car one day. Now the car is struggling for space to drive on the road. Of all places to use, its my side of the road! I should hang on the air because one useless, ugly car wants to pass. Thunder fire the car and its owner too. Nonsense! I'm passing an old house now and its the only house on this street. One hen is on a mound of sand. It stands like a king and the next thing, it opens its buttocks and defecates. Stupid thing. The clouds have become grey as if its going to rain. I dont care. The cloud has been doing that this whole week and it has never rained. I keep counting my steps. A drop falls on my hand. Then another, another three falls then, the heavens begin to rain upon the earth. I begin to run. The rain gets worse. There's no shop or shelter on this stupid road. I increase my pace and the rain increases in momentum. Now, I'm faster than Ussain Bolt. I curse the rain. I get home. Mummy is standing outside the gate and in her hands are the bucket of beans, an umbrella and some money for grinding. She takes my school bag from me and transfers the contents of  her hands to my hands. I want to cry but I cant.

I'm on my way now and I'm going to grind the beans for moin-moin.

DIARY OF A BLACK SLAVE

Held back by the chains that fastened his hands to his legs and created a synchronisation between his feet and head, Gugulethu, moved in slow, painful and agonizing steps. Every time he brought his leg forward, he felt a force push it backward. Soon, he was toppling over himself. Left and right he looked and saw his counterparts, called something like “kolig” by the coloured men that held them and even in his misery, he felt their pains.Melissa, the thirteen year old daughter of uncle Sabo was taken along with them for “pleasures” as the masters had said when she reeled out in pain at the feel of the long wire on her father’s skin. Yes, he shouted and screamed and in his beating, he yelled and struggled for them not to take his beautiful Melissa. As if taking her was not enough, she was stripped naked and raped turn by turn by the two masters sent to take us. At that point, her father, uncle Sabo stood up and forced himself towards one of the white men. He killed him of course but, Uncle Sabo was finally shot to death. People will say it in later years that one black slave had the guts to fight a white man and his name will be recorded in history. That’s if they even spell his name correctly.

On my right side was Boubou, the 20year old village bully. Somehow, I am very pleased that he was taken. The way he picks on children quarter his size is disgusting and well, nothing has been able to stop him all these years. When he was brought out, he tried to show he could wrestle but, one hit on his back with that big, fat cane got him sprawling on the ground. I laughed at him and pointed my finger at him in mockery. I didn’t know I would be next because, well, we weren’t told that 8year olds would be taken too.

It was my turn and this time, because I wanted to be brave like Uncle Sabo, I ran as fast as my legs could carry me. I wouldn’t give up without a fight. No! Even if they finally caught me, I thought it would be nice for my name to appear in historical records that I made the white men run after me. That would be something very nice, right? However, they caught me and beat me till I fainted.

It’s been five weeks now and somehow I wish none of us were taken. I want to go home to my mummy. I want to eat kenke, prepared by the woman they say is from Ghana, Maame Mensah and maybe I could get to taste that Igbo woman from Nigeria’s “ofe oha”

 

Love

 

Somewhere inside the jungle of my heart, you have a pride.

Roaming aimlessly, yet carefully,

You trod on beats that keep me alive.

A pun wouldn’t describe with effect how effectively

Your being makes my being a being but,

Your being brings a being inside of me that has never been.

From seconds till the ends of the earth,

And all the zillion other numbers coined by numerical enthusiasts,

You still manage to come first in my life;

And even so, maintain that position.

My heart doesn’t beat for you, it can’t beat without you.

Incomplete and void, are how I feel when there's no you.

And though my surface is demure, my spirit is at a far end;

Separated from me, yanked from my being.

Because you have left the foot prints of your gallivanting in my heart,

 It hurts to watch you go, So bad, it burns.

But, I will leave you to find peace where peace has called you.

Sleep on my beloved, for my heart will go on that door...

Writers Block

Monday morning and it was the twenty fifth day of the month. Zoba had planned the month to go real straight and smooth for her. Basically, she would have enough time to finish up her book which she had started since the beginning of the year and couldnt continue because of exams and school. Of course, her ideas were still as fresh as ever because she was writing her own autobiography. She wanted to start it when she was still very yong so that everyday, she would add something new to it but, due to lack of time, she couldnt.

.

.

.

Cold as the morning, fresh breeze waltzed into Carmela's room. The sun, a beautiful orange with some hues of yellow, welcoming the day and the dew that fell on the flowers reminded one of tears that roll down a cheek...

.

.

The rainbow ushered in a new smile on her face and she accepted that she was through with all the clumsiness and sadness she had taught herself to feel. She embraced what looked like a good life after all the hurtful experiences she had had. Her relationships were'nt working and her job was no longer paying. Who eevn said that crap about V-logging again?

.

.

.

On and on and on and on I go everyday when something strikes me on the way to school, with my first spoon o rice travelling down my throat, during choir rehearsals, when Im about to put off the lights of the house and go to sleep. All these things come to me as sizzling and hot as they are but, some times, they just come around my head and do some little barbie dances and waltz out again. This is the life of a writer and this is what is known as the writer's block. 

Dont ever insult a writer. You read something you dont like, say it as nicely as you can because it really is not easy to make people read what you wrote and even enjoy it.

Thanks for reading!

RIA

Blue skies, green grasses, calm wind, sunny skies; a perfect weather for two. Sky scrappers, ferris wheels, spas, studios, eateries, hotels and every place else in the world and she chose the beach. The one place where the sun and skies and sea come together to play. She said she wanted to feel close to nature and off we went.

I loved Ria with everything I had. She was my peace, my hope, my joy, my life. She made life perfect for me and whether I liked it or not, she called the shots in my heart and everything I needed in life, I found in her. 

Her smile made the world stop and her laugh. Oh! The melody in my heart when that music begins. 

Ria made me want to be complete again. She reminded me of beauty and of life and of everything good. I wanted to have this feeling for ever. I wanted us to last for ever and moreover with her, I felt I had found my missing rib.

At the beach, we laughed and played and ran around and became babies again.

I loved Ria and Ria loved me too.

Our love was complete and on the same day, she said "yes" to me.

Mazi Ngada

Mazi Ngada was a nonsense man. The whole village knew him to be a drunk and a talkative. Most times, his tongue reeled out insults and unncessary chants to people in form of greetings and at other times, well, there really isnt any other time. He was always seen clutching a bottle of beer and oh, the odour that jumped out of his dirty mouth when he spoke to you was over whelming. Enough for you to fly into a nearby gutter. He was never sober although maybe, on rare occassions, you could find him sober but, he was clearly indistinguishable. He would rant on and on and on about nonsense and would gladly eplain to you that his nonsense was much more sense than all the sense you thought you had. A ttending social functions was a big problem because he would disgrace himself and everything he represented even before the evnt started. His life began and ended in the bottles he carried about like babies in diapers. 

He was also an ugly man. People likened him to orangutans and really, taking a closer look at him would assure you of that. His nose took a dive and almost fought desperately for space close to his already protruding upper lip. He was bald but, still made sure he stuck to his punk hairstyle. He also had marks all over his face. People concluded easily that there were scars that were left on his face courtesy all the gutters he had fallen into while drunk and his ears were like those of the hobbits in the movie, THE HOBBITS. I pitied his wife and son so much that sometimes, I said daily prayers for them. It wasnt easy for such a nuisance to be associated with you. Especially in this part of the world and especially when the person is as close as a husband or a father. The embarrassment he could cause by just appearing at a place was disheartening...

You would think your life was a disaster until you become the child of son a disgrace to manhood.

Yes, my name is Nduka and Mazi Ngada is my father.

Primary School

That boy, Abdul-Waheed, the one who had black lips and his face was as black as charcoal. The one who always stretched his useless black Yoruba legs out from under his desk in class. The one who derived great jot from watching me fall or cry. He was a bully and in as much as I hated him, I couldn't do anything because I was very tiny and could only cry. I don’t know if his problem with me sprouted from the fact that I had continuously come 1^st in class from nursery classes till our present class, pry 3. Or, is it because I have never been removed from the post of the class captain? Every time I saw him, my heart skipped from my body. I hated him with a burning passion and his blackness, akin to the sort of darkness that was talked about in Genesis 1 verse 2 was not even encouraging. I felt like if our skins ever met, he would smear me a little of his stupid dye like black colour. Everyday my eyes looked upon him, hatred was stirred in me. He could hardly survive a day without bullying the day light out of me. When I went to the head mistress to report him, he would get flogged like an animal but that didn't stop him one bit. He would come back and threaten me because I reported him and he would beat me up and run home. One day, this rubbish got to me so much. We were going home from school and unfortunately for me, he joined the school bus with his friends and the bully became worse. I got crazy mad when Lateef, Abdul-Waheed’s elder brother hit my sister. We began to cry and amidst tears, I swore to him to deal with him and that, I did.

The next day at school, Abdul-Waheed went out of the class immediately it was break time. The unserious idiot! My best friend and I set to work immediately. Oh, I didn't tell you. Abdul-Waheed had become my seat mate, five days before when I flogged him for failing a question we were to solve on the board, well, as instructed by my teacher. We got into a fight and my teacher said we would only settle out differences when we sit together. Imagine the nonsense!

My best friend, Verity, with the help of one other savage girl, Blessing who was a talented cat ( she could scratch away your soul) arranged a set of compasses and took out the divider. Blessing fixed the divider directly under Abdul-Waheed's side of the desk so that the pointy part would directly face him. This was meant to pierce his ass and maybe even divide it into two when he sat down. Immediately we were done, we packed and left for the play ground. 

Minutes after break, I walked into the class with Verity and Blessing and I went to sit with Verity so it would look like I didn't see the weapon waiting for my seat mate. 

Long story cut short. Abdul-Waheed who was extremely playful ran into the class when he saw my class teacher walking in and ran directly to sit down. He sat directly on the divider and the rest they say is history...

Up till today, nobody has been able to figure out who did that to him because my class teacher concluded that his playfulness made him sit on his own divider which he carelessly left on the chair while he ran out for break...

We Best Friends

          Celine has always been my dream girl. she has always been the girl that makes my heart skip a beat. Forget the whole bestie thing. This is the 21st century and we know males and females cannot just be friends without something happening and in my case, it is so. Celine and I grew up together in the same neighbourhood and while her mother and mine were best of friends, our both fathers were colleagues at work. Our friendship started when my mum asked me to accompany her to visit a friend. I was six years old and she was four. On getting there, I figured out Celine was an only child and boredom was a usual comfort to her as sometimes, all her toys even made her cry. Mum asked me to go play with her after I had been given my Caprisone and we did play. Soon, we began visiting each other often and gradually, became best of friends. 

          Seventeen years after, I'm still here, falling in love with her as the day goes by. Drowning in the ocean of love whose current was quickly snuffing out life from me. I was sinking knee deep into the quicksand of the love I had for her. No other girl seemed to compare to her. Being around her was everything I needed and her laugh which resonated in my head hours after it had ended was the best kind of music I knew. I loved her smile as it coloured my day with the brightest hues and I felt like I had reached heaven when she gave me that big hug she called the "one and only 360 hug". I had watched her grow into a perfect shaped woman, inside out. Her perfect lips which I have always longed to enclose in mine and her beautiful eyes which took me on a journey to UPENDI. I was in love with Celine and I have always been in love with her. 

          However, I didn't know how to tell her. She would run home to me most times and give me all the gist about the day or about something and she would talk on and on and on and I would just be there loving her and going wacko for her. I didn't know if she felt the same way towards me or was just really bent on best-friend-zoning me forever. I knew how to woo any other thing on skirt and she knew how to change boyfriends like her lipstick colour. I could tell her anything but the words, "I love you" seized to come out of my mouth even in the most insane moments. I didn't know how to say it and the first time I tried, she replied that she loved me too as the best friend and only brother she knew. I was broken. She didn't know or just decided to choose not to know that I was mad over her. This whole best friend thing had killed me and today of all days when as she said "I should be the happiest guy on earth" I was the most heartbroken one. I couldn't help it. 

          "You may now kiss your bride", the officiating priest said to Celine and her Beau, Jackson as they had finished exchanging vows. At that point, I knew I had lost and was going to be a lonely man forever because I had lost the best thing in my life for fear of being rejected. Because I couldn't open up!

We Have Nothing

It is another Tuesday afternoon and we have visitors again. Every Tuesday, it is a norm to see people trooping in and out of the home as if there is a circus going on or something. Big Mummy takes these flock of visitors from house to house and from room to room, showing them the facilities the home has and the ones it lacks. Every Tuesday, we are fed an hour earlier than our usual time for lunch so that we will get dressed and look all clean and pretty and handsome because "who knows, one of you beautiful children might be adopted today!" accordning to Big Mummy.  I have never been able to understand why she is always very excited during the visiting days when we are displayed to hundreds of people for them to make their choice as if we are some pieces of fine jewellery in the market up for sale. Maybe it reduces her burden or maybe she is just tired of seeing our faces. I cant even find something hurtful to say about her because she is a darling to all of us here and I bet you, my dear reader that you will not understand what I mean until you become orphaned, rejected or dumped by your original parents in a motherless babies home or an orphanage as it is called. I also never really loved the idea of getting adopted because heaven knows where you might get taken to! However, my mindset changed when my best friend in the home, Uju got adopted by a childless multi millionaire! 

One month later, Uju came back looking all beautiful and pimped. A driver even brought her to the home. Common Uju! You needed to see my surprise when I saw her looking all radiant. Infact, her English had improved and at that moment, I envied her and wanted to be adopted too. I suddenly put on my best behaviour during all the Tuesday visits, making sure I paid sweet comments to every good looking, rich looking female that came around. After all, that's how Uju got adopted. I even went the extra mile by helping them hold unto their bags or offer them seats when they came around. Sometimes, I got quite clingy to some who were amazingly pretty. I did all these just to the females because it was the same way Uju got adopted. 

Today, however, I have put on that beautiful pink dress that Uju got for me. The last time she came to see me, she told me that if I looked all girly, potential mothers will get attracted to me more and she also said I should smile and never sulk because it pisses them off and, the truly rich people are the ones that entered with only a designer purse, holding unto their husbands and looking regal. Plus, I must keep my eyes out for the women with car keys and car keys were only a set of two keys or just one. Uju told me that if the woman was flinging the key anyhow, she was going to be "wicked anyhow" but, if she wore the key on her small finger, it meant she wasn't a show off and she would be a good mother. 

Right now, I'm practising my new killer smile. I have already packed my hair to the back and I'm reading a book so that I will impress the visitors. I think Big Mummy is calling me now. Let me go and see if anybody wants to adopt me yet...

.

.

.

.

This is for every orphan in the world. I do not know who you are or why you are an orphan, but I know that somehow I feel your pains and I pray that you get adopted by well meaning people.

Victoria Nelson.

High Tension

         

          I clasped my hand firmly around her frail own as I looked into her eyes. She couldn't say any words and wasn't even attempting movement of any kind. She was static and unmoving and all the adjectives used to qualify stillness. She was fine now and according to the doctor in charge, in a matter of days, she would be discharged. I continued staring at her, imagining all that I would do for her once she was fully recovered. How I would do everything to make her happy and how I would give up my life and probably be in her present condition if it would save her from any pain when I felt my stomach grumble. I knew it was hunger and as an ulcer patient, I wasn't supposed to joke with my stomach. So, even though I didn't want to go, I had to finally stand up, place her weak right hand on the right side of the bed and place a quick kiss on her forehead. Next thing, I dashed off to get something to eat and dashed back immediately. What I saw when I returned back to the room threw me off balance so that I didn't know when my food fell off my hands...

A Peep Into Death 2

I gave myself a moment to take a quick peep at everything I had. Then, my mirror which was directly opposite me showed me my reflection and my heart broke. I thought of my best friend, David and all my class mates. Of my parents and siblings. I had no girl friend, so my thoughts raced to my businesses outside school and how I was sure David would manage them for me. Power had gone out as the lights in my thinking faculty went off. I imagined the sorta messages that would flood my facebook timeline and whatsapp too. Not to talk of people who would call to make sure it was a rumor. Those boys that practiced 007 shooting tricks on me? They fled. My eyes closed. I could feel my systems hugging themselves and saying goodbye forever. My brain and some tissues in my skull came down to take a look at me, the person they had lived together with for twenty four years. At that moment, my spirit jumped out of me and went in search of late grandma...
.
.
For my late friend, #EmmanuelJoseph who was shot in the early hours of Wednesday morning last week.
#R.I.P

A Peep Into Death 1

I saw it coming, Yes, I saw it coming. I couldnt really say what colour it was because the light from my power saving bulb was very good at changing the normal colour of things by giving them a brighter hue or by adding to its colour greatly so that it would appear much more colourful than it really was. I saw it move like the meteors above us and our magnificence, with speed that could smash obstacles. It twisted and twirled almost in a whiz coming towards me. I could do nothing. I was too frail and I was already brought down by the fierce and consistent blows which I had received from big, tight fists. I was dizzy so, maybe I didnt even really see anything.  But, no, this one was conspicuous. In a matter of seconds, it hit me. Yes, that thing I saw. It was a bullet from a gun. It went straight into my skull and rang the bell for recess in my brain. All activities going on there was paused as there was an official declaration of light out and a possible total shutdown. I couldnt say a word, so, I kept my mouth very shut as another bullet came at me. Soon, about five bullets were converged in my brain and they were working very fast and hard in unity, all in an effort to deactivate my thinking faculty and overthrow me as the supreme ruler of my own self. Soon, I felt my pupils dilating. I had watched enough movies to know that I had limited time to live again...

For the One I Love

   

     I want to be in your thoughts all day long. I want to tamper with your senses and give you no space to assemble your thoughts to come to an equilibrium. I want my voice to be the first thing you yearn to hear every morning, to start the day with and to end the day. I want to be in control of your emotions and like a video game, I want you to be happy only when you have won my happiness. I want a sync between us. So much that you would fall ill when I fall ill and have rashes all over you when my head aches. I want to be able to know wherever I am that your thoughts are hundred percent about me. I want to wake up to your messages every morning,  your calls, to wish me a beautiful day ahead and yea, some other calls in-between to make sure I am really doing good. I want to go to sleep only when you sing me a lullaby through the phone.

    They say distance makes the heart grow fonder. I subscribe to that but I do not wish to spend so much time away from the one I love. I want to wake up in your arms where I know I must have slept off the night before, I want to come back, tired from work and meet a husband who has prepared my dinner. I want to watch a romantic movie with you and get turned on. I want to kiss you lightly on the lips and I want you to kiss me back fiercely all over. The kiss that ignites passion. I want your hands to journey through my body. A journey where every obstacle in the form of clothing will be fiercely removed. I want you to do to me what the whores outside would do to you if you run into their arms ever. I want  your tongue to go through me, savoring every part of me, inside out. I want your tongue on my nipples, my breasts, my belly button, my neck. I want you to give me the out of the world feeling. I want you to plunge into me and give mighty thrusts into me like the next minute will be Armageddon. I want you to sweat, the sweat of pleasure and of love. I want you to work hard, moving your body over me, going with the rhythm of my heart beat. I want you to carry me into paradise. I want to scream and wake the neighbors up. I want the world to know that you are mine and I am yours and even if we aren't perfect in anything else, I want perfection to come when your lips meet mine. I want you. I want you in totality...

I Am African 2

    

     "Monkey! Come here now!" master called me and brought me back to reality. I ran quickly to meet him. "Bend your black disgusting self. I want to place my legs on something." he said. You see what I mean? We are cursed! I bend for him. In the distance, I see my friend, Gugulethu. He is held on his two hands and legs by chains and he is tied tightly directly under the sun. His master is using the hot rod to flog him on the back. His back is peeling. Oh, Gugulethu! I shake my head, forgetting that master's legs were on me and he turns and uses the beating stick to slap me across the face. He never touches me with his hands. No! He said it would kill him if his hands ever touched me as I looked like the devil. My face hurts but I cannot touch it. I want to cry but, that means calling for trouble. "You people with black skin are no humans. You are aliens and should be treated as such. You disgust me" my master always said. He said it was a reminder so I dont go about thinking I am human. Black is a curse!

    We are made to cut grasses and even eat uproot them with our teeth when or hands hurt. One man to one plantation working all day under the hot sun. We wash everything and do everything. But, we are not humans. Sometimes, we are called out and beaten because we are black. Other times, we are made to come out in our number, stand in front of the masters and their lady loves and then ordered to do stupid things like licking the long cord that sticks out from my leg. I do not yet know what that cord is doing there and I am sure the white men do not have it. No wonder we are called aliens and monkeys and devils. Whatever that means. Did I tell you we do not put on clothes? Never! I cannot even remember what it feels like to put on clothes.

    I am black. They say we are Africans. We are disgusting people and we are aliens. But, we are very strong people. We do not fall sick like the white people. We are amazing aliens. We do not cmplain and we do not even die. I however await the day all of us will go back to the alien land from which we came from. I miss mama. Papa was shot the day I was taken away because he struggled and didnt want his son to be taken away. I miss Ropafadco, my baby brother. I miss my only sister, Nkosi. I want to go home. I want to wear clothes. I want to ask mama why I am black. I want to know how old I am. I want to know what that long cord is. I want to...

And my name? its Kudakwashe.

I Am African 1

 

    I am told to sit, I sit. Then, again, I am ordered to stand and I do. My life is one without freedom. I only do what I am told. In fact, if this white man realizes that I am even thinking, without his orders, my already torn back will peel off and probably be used in place of cow hyde or as leather to make new boots for his lady love. So, you see, I do not have a life or, would you call this living? Ehn?

Its not my fault that I was born black. No! But, right now, I am beginning to feel like its all my fault. There were many options from which I could have chosen from at birth. I could have found a reason to die in mama's womb. I could have also not even allowed myself to be born. You see, I could have transported myself to a white woman's womb and boom, I would have come out a white child. But, I didn't and here I am, a slave to Mr Rock Willies. I do not still know how to pronounce the Willies in his name so, I call him Master to save myself from the rod that would greet my back if I dared called his name wrongly.

You see, to be black is a sin! A curse! I hear them speak sometimes and though I understand nothing they say because they talk as if water is in their mouth. I should try it someday when I go to the store to collect some things from Gugulethu. I would sound like them. I know however with the way master looks at me when he talks with his friend that I look like something the earth rejected...

Letters to My Beloved 2

   

    Everyday we talk, I feel the powers that be smile at me and every time you laugh, my heart begins to think its a song and it begins to beat very fast to match the rhythm. When in your arms, I feel safe, like David in the psalms. Your calls bring about joy in me and when you say those naughty things to me over the phone, I in the distance can see your face and hold you. When you kiss me, the sun changes colour and the flower fairies crown me with beautiful dances. I could award you but, I do not know what award it would be. The one who loves me the most? The one who make my heart skip beats? The one who sends shivers down my spine? The one who brings light to my life? Colours my life with the brightest hues? I could say stuff and write stuff but how I feel about you, I cant explain. I do not have words to breakdown what you do to me. All the words in the world, yet, I cannot in English or any other language tell you what I feel for you is stronger than the foundation of the Tower of Babel. It runs deep in me. I yearn to hear your voice everyday, to be with you, to stay with you. Like Bruno Mars, I would catch a grenade for you and like Whitney Houston, I will always love you. Like Rihanna, you saw my heart breaking and I hate that I love you so, but, like Jennifer Lopez, you got me and I cannot deny it and right now, Im into you.

    I love you and I hope we'd always be this is love.  

                                                                                                                          Your Baby.
                                                                                                                                   

Letters To My Beloved 1

   

    Our love, it started from the online game house where I beat you in the fastest fingers game. Then, we became friends. Like you said, you just couldn't fathom how anyone would beat you hands down in a game you practically started. We started to chat everyday and soon, we became best of friends.I loved another but you stood your ground. Slowly but steadily you began to fall deep in love with me. When you told me you loved me, I called your bluff and got pretty mad at you. Yet, you stayed and loved me from a distance. Everyday, you checked on me and we never for once had a reason to become enemies. You loved me through the years. You loved me through my tears. When I was heartbroken, you were hands opened. I cried in your arms and I talked to you when I could talk to no one. You knew I was heart broken when he left me hoping and you made me feel better. 

    The first day I saw you, I fell in love with you. Every smile, every laugh, every joke. When you said the walk was tiring and when you decided to perform wonders with that terrible mixture. Remember? And when I manicured your nails as you requested I sang for you. I loved the way you looked at me; the lost in love look. I felt like the only girl in the world. The way you allow me to be the baby and you, the man. I loved it that you called and checked up on me and soon, our love grew in leaps and bounds and gradually, I forgot my other lover who only brought me grief. Suddenly, you became a part of my life so much that one day without you seemed like ages. I finally realized that you are everything I have always wanted. I have searched in different places, searched for love in the wrongest places. The same love I found when I found you...

THE WAKE-UP CALL

My eyelids were extremely heavy and my eyeballs felt like they were popping out of their sockets that morning as I went to shower and get ready for school. I was very weak and it was a Monday morning. This had never happened to me before and it seemed very strange. I had two classes that Monday morning and about four more others from afternoon through evening which meant I would be going back home from school by 7pm if the lecture was not dragged on by the lecturer. I was feeling dizzy and though I still stubbornly took my bath and prepared for school, I figured out I couldn’t go to school that morning so, I sat on my bed, ordered for pizza and fought to stay awake and await the pizza delivery man...

While waiting for my pizza, I took some medications which mummy had advised me to keep at handy in case of unusual illnesses just like this one and though I argued with her about the efficacy of drugs as I hated them with a passion, I was glad in my heart that I took those drugs as she advised. Few minutes later, I heard three taps on my door and guessed it was the pizza man. I stood up, went to the door and after exchanging pleasantries with the pizza man, I collected my order and went into the kitchen to boil water for hot milk which I intended to take alongside my pizza...

I took my breakfast as slowly as possible, reason being that I couldn’t have been any faster since my eyes could not even differentiate between my cup of milk and pack of pizza. Everything was not fine with me that morning and as I tried to think about what it was that was disturbing me, my mind went on a journey. Still, after all the time I spent trying to figure out why I wasn’t feeling well, I found out nothing. I got pretty mad and decided to take a cup of very hot coffee, after all, people said “coffee keeps you awake” and awake I intended to be! I made coffee, drank it and felt like my eyes were a little open. This was exactly what I wanted! Open eyes!...

I began making calls to my friends to tell them that I wasn’t going to make it to school as I wasn’t feeling too well. I also called to borrow notebooks from my other friends who I was sure would write notes. After doing this, I felt like I had achieved something at least. Now, even with my achievement, I still felt weird. It wasn’t the sickness this time around. I just wasn’t myself at all. I was having a stubborn feeling and no matter how I tried to shake the feeling off, it stayed and even got worse. I knew everything was fine at home because I spoke with my parents the night before and they assured me that all was well. In fact, my mum and I wasted almost the whole airtime on making fun of each other and my dad, so, home was at peace. I had no grandparents to be worried about and the only other family I knew were my cousins Ugo and Adanna and their parents, Uncle Raymond and his wife, Aunty Ezinne and as far as I was concerned, they were very fine. I mean, wasn’t it Uncle Raymond that sent me the money for the mobile phone I just got? Biko. If he could send me twenty five thousand naira for a mobile phone, he could as well be very fine. I knew also that if things were not fine with him, he would have called to let me know. Or, was it my best friend, Tope? We spoke not quite long ago and she didn’t complain of anything.  All these came to my mind because of the premonitions that were mentioned in the last fellowship I attended. I wanted to be sure I wasn’t having premonitions I knew nothing about. I wanted to be sure that my present feeling of discomfort was not arising from something I should hitherto have known about. I didn’t feel up to praying but, I however said a few desperate words to the Almighty God that I serve and sat back on my bed...

Twenty minutes later, my phone rang and the caller was my dad...My mum just passed away! I screamed terribly and cried like never before. I began to perspire stupidly and before I knew what it was, my roommate poured a bowl of water on me and I opened my eyes very widely only to realize I had been sleeping and it was all a dream!

Just for Fun

So, I walked into a restaurant where my friends and I could eat a decent meal without what we always referred to as “the disturbance” which was our own invention for the male folk as we concluded that they were just a bunch of disturbing people who didn’t know when their presence was needed. The ones we considered to fit into this name are those ones who wanted to flirt with basically all the ladies. “As if it adds any naira to their net worth” my girlfriend, Kourtney always said.

Once inside the restaurant, our fast eyes scanned the entire area for a perfect seating position away from prying eyes. Oly soon found a spot close to the window directly opposite the entrance and gingerly, the three of us walked to our seat. “Who is doing the waiter thingy today?” I asked and Kourtney who totally loved to e the centre of attraction everywhere she found herself, volunteered without a second thought. Most times, Oly and I couldn’t help blame her. After all, she didn’t endow herself with the manner of beauty she possessed and for someone who was as beautiful as she was, it was really difficult not to show off.

“We are having the usual right?” she asked grinning from ear to ear as we nodded in affirmation. Immediately, Kourtney bounced off her seat to relay our orders to the waiter as was our habit. “Kourtney is really beautiful.” I said as I watched her walk down to the counter and Oly agreed with me just as we changed the topic to something else as we didn’t have the time for gossiping. Just as Oly said something which caused me to laugh, a young, handsome man came our way.

“Hey ladies.” He said. “Mind if I joined you?” he asked, throwing us a smile which I believed he thought was amazing. Oly took her time to practically weigh him. Now, weighing was one term we used to refer to the kind of stare when you are looked at or should I say, scrutinized from head to toe in the most derogatory way in the world and, for the records, this was something Oly had a natural PhD in. After weighing him and making him feel very stupid indeed, Oly gave him the answer to his question. “No”.

Cutie pie didn’t seem to e able to move from the spot. He stood transfixed and at that moment, bad mouth Kourtney chose to return with our food. On seeing the young man, Kourtney dropped the food quite dramatically on the table, pulled back her chair and began to stare at him with the most devilish of all her smiles. Soon enough, cutie couldn’t take it any longer and he fled from our presence.

At that moment, we all burst out in laughter.

Life of a Nigerian

...So, I opened my eyes to behold the bright fluorescent light in my room glittering directly above me. I hated sleeping with the lights on and though I had slept off, the light had a way of waking me. Yes, the light! The one our confused PHCN had decided to allow when I had already given up my wait. What nonsense!

I had kept myself awake, a forced vigil all in the hope for electricity which I had actually paid for some day back. I had stayed awake till 2am when I finally dozed only to be awoken by 4am by the light. I wanted to curse PHCN with all my might, but, instead, I put the light to use.

Immediately, I jumped up from my bed, plugged all my gadgets and my pc, and all my electrical appliances, put my almost spoilt leftover food into the microwave to heat up a little as my gas and kerosene had both finished and I had no money to purchase another one. I was happy that at least, I could get the privilege of using the electricity I had paid for, because in my part of the world, Oshodi, Lagos, Nigeria, it really is a privilege to use the electricity one pays for. I ran to bring out the clothes I would wear for the next week so that I could iron them. Immediately I plugged the iron and made sure it was hot enough, it happened!

The light went off. In some places, one would check if the bulb got burnt or something related to the electrical connection, but, in my case, I knew that wasn’t even a possibility as it was a usual occurrence. PHCN had taken the light! At that moment, all the curses I had harboured in my heart burst out of my mouth. I cursed and cursed and finally went to take my food which as it were was the only benefit I got from the useless five minute electricity supply as it was hot and good enough for consumption. After eating, I went back to my bed to continue killing mosquitoes which was what I was doing before I slept off the last time.

Totally in Love

I have always believed in love which is nurtured and grown well and not the whole shitty love at first sight. I had really held strongly to that belief that nobody could just find love in one stare. For heaven’s sake, who does that?

All or maybe most of my girlfriends either believed in the crap about love at first sight ir fantasized about such experience. You see why I hated cartoons like Beauty and the Beast and Cinderella that made people feel there was anything like a happily ever after? It just gives girls the inability to see life as it really is and plunges them into a state where everything seemed like a fairytale. Imagine!

My friends had also made a bet with me that I would also experience love at 1^st sight and mine would be very crazy. I had only agreed to the bet knowing that I would surely win. Haha!

However, two days later, my eyes caught sight of the most spectacular of God’s creations. It totally amazed me how God could think up such wonder. Beautiful and exhilarating the sight was and I couldn’t help but stare and stare till I almost fell into a ditch. It was awesome and at that moment, I knew I had found the love of my life. I told my friends and though they were disappointed at how I could fall so in love with the clouds, especially those that hold the moon at night, they laughed...

Student Life....

It was raining heavily that Tuesday afternoon. The roads in school were all muddied up and some roads that were not properly taken care of were drowned in water. People are fond of saying, “Water, e no get enemy”, but, such kinds of destroying rains were an enemy to everybody. I had just finished me lectures for the day and wanted to really hit the bed as my head was aching terribly. These sorts of headaches caused blurred vision to me and that was why I was eagerly looking for someone who was going my way. I didn’t find.

          I had to manage myself, so, I set off in the direction where “home” was. As I got to the place where I was meant to cross the road to the other side, I watched too carefully and when I was sure I could cross, I did and thanked God in my mind that I wasn’t hit by any vehicle. My phone began to vibrate in my back pocket and just as I was about to pick the incoming call, my handkerchief fell. I then bent to pick it up while on the call. That was when it happened. The one thing I had been avoiding; a car moving with high speed sped by and splashed me all the water on the left side of the road!

Wrong Love

It’s early in the morning. I had slept like a lamb throughout the night and felt relaxed. All my muscles seemed at peace and I was in a world of my own, but, the only problem was, I could only open my eyes and let it perform its functions. I was just too lazy to move from my position on the bed. I was thinking!

Normally, my days are well planned and this day was pretty planned as well, but, I just had images appearing and disappearing from my mind. I was thinking! I was confused, heartbroken and frustrated. I didn’t even understand why. Everything in the room I saw carried his face. He was in my head and though I was trying to erase him, I knew I couldn’t. He broke my heart even without trying. He got me confused also without a trial. I was unhappy, yet, I laughed loud. He broke my heart, but, I still really loved him. You see the problem with love? I was here on my bed, thinking! I would have remained there if my very faithful friend did not call to remind me that we had a seminar presentation in the next one hour!

Thoughts of teenage Girl 2

   

It was a new semester and students had just begun to return to school. I was elated. God! How I missed my friends! I rushed into the bathroom that morning took my bath and got ready for my trip to Nsukka in Enugu state where my school was located. For the first time in a long time, I didn’t care that my bus was leaving by 7am as I was ready before 5am. I was really going back to school.

My parents were surprised that I was the one who woke them up to drive me to the park where I would take the bus because normally, they would have been the ones to wake me up and warn me not to miss my bus. I missed school! I got to the park about twenty minutes before it was time for the bus to start moving (that’s because mummy took about two hours to get dressed. I wondered if she was even the one travelling) and got my things into the bus which I was supposed to board. I couldn’t wait for the bus to move. I didn’t even hear my parents telling me to take care and all the other stuff that parents know how to say #winks.

   Finally the bus moved. I spent my time calming down and knowing that the journey would be perfect, I smiled that confident smile and relaxed on the number 3 seat in the Peace Mass Transit bus I boarded. The bus had been moving for some minutes and then, my head began to ache. That’s when I began to miss my parents. Normally, mummy would have told me to sleep or given me pain relievers and daddy would have praised me so that I would laugh a little. Now, all the thoughts of my school faded from my memory and all I could think about was home.

   Oh, I never told you? I am the only legitimate child of my parents. I only got one younger sibling because I badly wanted one and I disturbed them day in day out for a sibling. I was taken to the orphanage home where I finally chose a younger sister and named her Beauty. It’s not like she was such a beaú but, I just wanted her to feel special. Now in the bus, I missed the fact that Beauty and I would have been playing the “no boy breaks my heart” game. I was bent on teaching my sister how to be the girl of every guys dreams and I would go any extent to make sure she ended up as one. My sister couldn’t be heartbroken!

   My headache increased and I felt like I was going to collapse. Then, I heard the baritone voice of a male beside me. Do you know I never even realized there was anybody sitting beside me? I turned to face the direction from where the voice came and though I knew immediately I heard him that he was beside me, I turned anyways and I saw the most handsome male being I had ever come across in my life...no exaggeration! He had these dreamy almond coloured eyes, the sexiest lips ever, a perfectly structured face and geez, his brows were perfect. He said hello and smiled. His teeth were perfect. You know, it’s quite difficult to find people with white perfect teeth, especially in Nigeria? But, this guy was different. I said ‘hi” back and he brought out his hands to give me a handshake. What I saw made me smile. His finger nails were wonderfully manicured! Choi!...

The Thoughts of a Teenage Girl

    I tried to act like it was all fine. I was strong willed and I knew deep down in my heart that I was the most emotionally strong female I knew and though this same nonsense was the reason I was going through everything I was going through and it felt like I just wasn’t cut out for love and it wasn’t just meant for me, I held unto it squarely. I was strong!

    I was the one who knew the solutions to everybody’s emotional and even psychological problems-well, at times though. I was the perfect match maker. I could match people who never knew they were anything and they would make a great item. I knew all the signs. I knew the difference between a crush, an admiration, lust, infatuation, love and stupidity and I could give a lecture to a thousand people on them. Of course, if there were a course like that in the university, I could teach and handle it pretty well; in fact all my students would come out in As.

    I was the pretty girl who had enough attention from the opposite sex and who knew how to twist them all, drain them of their money and still leave them wanting me the more. Yes, I could teach that too to all the girls that didn’t understand the common sense of being a lady. I knew the charms and I had them. I was the girl who you’d meet for an advice and who would advise you while making a joke out of the problem. I was the girl who never believed that love could make me be in the position of those helpless girls or guys who could hardly think straight because of someone in their heart. You needed to know the disgust I felt with the thought that one person could be giving another person sleepless nights. I loved my sleep and I was too selfish to miss my sleep all because of one useless being who I was sure was asleep in his own bed while I killed myself with thoughts about him. Geez!

I was the sort of girl who would date just to taste and see what dating was and jump out just the way I jumped in just because I felt it wasn’t worth my time. I could never consider anybody because I didn’t know what heart break felt like. I was like this till he came my way and just destroyed my life...

OLAMMA

       

It was already 9am and the so-called first bus which would take Olamma to Nsukka, where the University of Nigeria which she had so readily prepared for was situated, had not even shown any signs of movement. “Oga”, came the piercing and high-pitched voice of a rather gaunt woman. “When we go comot for here na?” she asked. “People never put their load for inside the moto na, madam. Abi you wan siddon for chair dey carry person bag? When we finish the arrangement, everybody go enter the bus and bus go move” the dark, round man who had chapped front teeth and a scary pressed-down nose who was later found out to be the driver answered quite ordinarily, like he said that every day to impatient, gaunt women.

             Olamma who was of mixed feelings listened to the driver and the woman and concluded in her world of imagination that in very ancient times, one would be called ‘Ajonu’ and the other, most preferably, the woman will be known as ‘Ndidi’, since most times, people were the exact opposites of the names bestowed upon them. She came back to reality only after trying to imagine them both in loin clothes and the woman with coal designed on her lips instead of the shiny red lipstick she had decided to put on that, in Olamma’s candid opinion made her look like an Egyptian over-decorated mummy. Since boredom was gradually creeping up to her, she started sizing up the woman. She looked about thirty five and had a long, smooth face. She had short but fine legs and in that, Olamma almost gave her a thumb up. She was of average build though and lacking some curves at some places. Of course, Olamma wouldn’t have seen it, if not for the extremely tight pair of denim jean trousers and short top that the woman was sporting. Out of a hundred percent, Olamma’s calculated scrutiny ended up placing her at forty eight percent. “At least I’m fair enough” she thought within herself.

                “Mma, when you get into the bus, hold your bag very well oh! Keep your phone on and make sure you pray. Mind your own business too. You know this is your first time travelling alone. Nothing will happen to you, inugo?” her mother finally said to her when the bus was due to move. “I have heard, mummy” she answered. “Be a good girl oh! You know that the university is not our house. Read your books like you used to and study very hard. You know the family from where you emerged, okwa ya?”, she continued and Mma smiled instead. She smiled because her mother was smiling, that kind of smile that is shared through a common chemistry between mother and daughter who knew each other’s thoughts without even asking. They harboured their grief and sent it to each other through a common smile which spoke volumes. It was the first time mother and daughter had parted ways and it hurt more than they could both understand...