Dear, Odera...Love Odera.

The first time Odera fell in love was in primary 5.

His name was Soji Benson. He was the class Captain, a southpaw who never missed snagging first position. Since primary 1, they had always been selected to play king and queen for Red House during inter-house sport. Then they grew up and laughed hard at the memories of their infantile love. 

The second time was in 200 level.  It was the perfect relationship. He was kind, caring, attentive. They attended fellowship together, painted the night sky with their dreams, and were rock solid until his final level. When she discovered her roommate Awele had gotten pregnant and the baby was his. 

Today, she was giving love another chance. She stood in front of the mirror, admiring her wedding gown. It was bridal satin with intricate lace detailing. Her husband-to-be was a blind date that had been set up by her aunt after she turned 35. She had recently ended a 4-year relationship with a man who refused to propose. His reason: he didn’t believe in marriage. He had hinted this when they first met but she thought time would work some magic. Alas, it never did and she had become tired of sounding like a broken record. 

She stood in front of Paul, her husband-to-be, as the pastor recited their marriage rites. Frankly, their relationship felt like a business transaction.  But her family was ecstatic she was finally getting married so she didn’t mind or so she thought until the pastor asked if anyone objected to the marriage. 

‘I object’ she blurted out. The gasps in the hall felt like a rush of wind. Odera looked at the surprised faces of everyone and simply said. 

‘Today, I choose love….I choose me.’ She took in a deep breath, gathered her wedding gown, and as walked out, she whispered to herself:

Dear Odera,

Love Odera. 

The end 

Her Father's Daughter

Dr Aisha rearranged the files on her table for the third time as she waited for Mr Akintade to come in. His daughter had been admitted earlier that week after complaining of jabbing pains in her abdomen during one of her lectures in school. It turned out one of her kidneys was failing and she needed a transplant. 

Without missing a beat, her whole family -including uncles and aunties- stepped up to the plate, making themselves available for blood testing to see the possibility of a donor match. Her brother had to put work on pause and fly down from Abuja. 

Mr Akintade finally entered the room, his face riddled with anxiety as he took a seat. ‘I’m happy to tell you that we found a donor match for your daughter, sir’ the doctor began with a slight smile on her face. ‘But we also found something else…’ she continued. 

‘While conducting the cross and tissue matching, we discovered a 99.9 percent DNA match with the donor, as well as your older son. His brows furrowed, unsure what the purpose of the information was, he asked ‘So I would be the one donating a kidney?’ 

Dr Aisha took a deep breath and replied grimly, ‘No sir, your brother would be’ 

The end. 

Mentor Dementor

                                Image by Chad Ward

She had been practically summoned by HR earlier that day for an impromptu appraisal of her performance so far in the 1 year she had been with their PR firm. Her expectations were skyrocket high because her probation had been extended to 1 year due to some ‘restructuring’ happening in her department and her role had diversified from marketing officer to Account manager. Within those additional six months, she had played a major role in bringing in 3 new high-profile accounts. 

In addition, Michael, her line manager who she also considered to be a mentor, won’t stop gushing about her account-sealing skills since she joined their team. He had even privately nicknamed her Maverick because of this.

She entered HR's office and sat down. She was excited and couldn’t help but silently tap her toes rhythmically. HR began the conversation highlighting how long she’d been with them and the switch in her role. Then she said: ‘We would be placing you on a one month probation because of underperformance in certain areas.’ 

She was sure she heard incorrectly. Probation? Underperformance? HR added that this had been brought to her attention a number of times and probation was the next course of action. She didn’t know when she blurted out: ‘Who brought this to your attention, Ma?!’ 

HR replied: ‘Your line manager, Michael’

The end. 

The Uncle

He came over like he always does Saturday mornings
Mummy welcomed him with a warm smile and arms wider than the Pacific
I ran out of my room with joy leading the race and excitement closely tailing me
“Uncle!” I beamed as he swept me off my feet
The enclosed balcony was our playground, where games were played without alerting sounds
Peek-a-boo was his favourite and my girl parts were his play mate
And even though I was a beginner, Uncle promised to teach me till I was a Master

Today marks the 6th year we have been playing Peek-a-boo, I am no longer a beginner
But Master is not my new title, I am to be called Mother

A Ship Called Forever

We boarded this ship with plans to sail forever
We packed light 
We packed heavy
But empty we decided was better 

Our voyage had different tempos 
From waters as quiet as silence 
to boisterous waves aimed to kill
-and kill they did our ship’s temple
We bought this ship and named it forever

 
We fought hard not to sink
We battled through raging seas
But alas...our strength was weak
And jump into the sea we must- it’s over.

On Anger

Fires are easier to douse with gasoline. 

SHE

Eyes like stars that light up gloomy skies, 
She is fire to my skin on an icy cold, winter night.
Lips like a lullaby singing sweet melodies to a child,
She is peace to my soul when I am in the midst of a raging sea.
Skin as soft as petals of a freshly bloomed lily,
She is the final note to my life song's symphony.

Yet She...

She is imperfect in every sense of the word.
Flawed by heartbreaks,
beautifully broken like pieces of a stained glass window.
Damaged goods to others,
yet pure as gold from Bechuanaland to me.
And when she laughs, it gives my heart a rhythm
It makes it dance, skip, and sometimes sprint.
Did I forget to mention she is mine?

She!

Happy

I’ve been here before…

A place called happy.

Where walls are painted in colorful emotions and the roof is made of sturdy hope.

Haven’t I been here before?

These paths seem so familiar but the crossroads leave me confused

Because this place, though brand new, has a certain knowingness.

Wait…I may have been here before,

But THIS is nothing like what I thought I had.

I once had a place called happy
 but now YOU, you are my happy.

Matters of the Heart

She sat motionless in the bus as the conductor's voice drowned her barely audible sobs.
She paid no attention to the annoying creaking sound of the seats as she stared into space with one thought her mind.

He was gone.

She couldn't believe he was gone for a whole year and she didn't
get to say goodbye.
She didn't get to hug him fiercely  one last time till he returns.
She didn't get to say how he makes her feel, gosh! her heart leaps when she's with him despite how infuriating he can be.

He was gone.

Their last conversation had been nothing but sour.
They were supposed to spend some time together and she had plans to show him exactly how he makes her feel.
But then he never showed up.
For three days, she waited for an explanation but was answered with deafening silence.
Not a word from him. No call, no message.

Now he is gone.

Her last words to him were laced with anger and disappointment.
He had listened but never replied. She didn't expect him to,  although she hoped he would
She also didn't know he would be gone soon.

Tonight, her pillow will be drenched in tears as she nurses her broken heart.
It appears she fell in love and had her heart broken but didn't know through it all.

She always thought she'd know when she falls in love..

My Familiar Stranger

There was something strikingly familiar about him.

The first time he approached me, he told me he wanted my heart,
and all he wanted in return was for his to be mine.
He wooed me with sugar-coated words,
courted me with his hearty laughter.

His laughter was deep and sonorous,

just like that of my father.

I fell hard, I fell fast.
We exchanged vows, made solemn promises before God and family.

"To have and to hold through life's ups and downs,

for better, worse and the worst,I will honour and love you as my wife.
Forever and a thousand years."

This was his vow to me.

But he lied.
He didn't want my heart, he wanted my sanity.
He didn't want a wife, he wanted a slave.
His sonorous laughter suddenly became sinister and his sugar-coated words became gunshots aimed to break my spirit.
He taunted me, mocked and threatened me.

He reminded me of my father.

I watched myself slowly become the woman my mother once was.
The woman she wrestled and finally killed after she left my father.
The institution I had thought was marriage, had become a prison cell guarded by fear.
My husband wanted to be god in a world where I was to be slave.

And then it struck me...

There was something strikingly familiar about him.
I should have recognised him from the moment he said hello.
He wasn't just a familiar stranger, he was my familiar stranger.
He was my father. I fell in love with my father...

Your Eyes

Your eyes...

They tell me stories about you.

Your passions and desires,

Your dreams and aspirations,

Your fears and inhibitions, 

Your vices and hobbies,

It's all there...written boldly in your eyes.

It's the way they light up when you see me and dim when I have to be away.

It's how they well up in tears when you are upset and sparkle like stars when you are excited.

It's the way they silently whisper sweet words like " You are my everything" and more.

So the next time you ask me what I love about you,

Believe me when I say...your eyes.

For Paris

It was a serene atmosphere
Laughter, romance and love in the air
Soft music filled the background
Sweet melody, melodic symphony was the sound

Then suddenly... BANG!  BANG!! BANG!!!
The room was raided by a terrorist gang
Fear became the music, death became the sound
Shots were fired, lovers and friends falling to the ground
Human bombs began to detonate
smiling at the heavens like it was their fate

126 people badly injured...most were found dead
In one night, Paris became a city to be feared
For the lives lost and families hurt because of that day
We can do nothing but bow our heads and pray...

#PrayforParis
#PrayforNigeria
#PrayfortheWorld

Dear Steve

Dear Steve,

I write you this letter not in disdain
but with a heart flooded with unmitigated pain
With love I cuddled you fiercely when you were born
I had tarried for years and finally, God gave me a son
I was no longer ridiculed by society, I was no longer mocked
For though my daughters were pretty, your unexpected birth had left them shocked.
I watched you grow to be a young, dashing, charming  teenager
and yes, I recall those times you jokingly called me a nagger

Of course, I had to nag you to be all you could be,
Don't you know you are the best thing that ever happened to me?
Not only are you the spitting image of your father
You are kind, loving, generous like your dear mother
I remember your high school days in King's College, Victoria Island
and how your dad and I beamed with joy when you told us you had joined the band
You were my boy, my son, my obi ! But today...the case is sadly the reverse
As you leave me scorned with this news so perverse

How is it possible you feel such unholy desire for a man?
Why have you suddenly decided to distort God's original plan?
How can you tell me I gave birth to you this way?
What did I ever do to make you go astray?
My questions will forever remain unending
and the pain worsens each passing day as you plan your wedding
Oh Steve! please... there has to be another way
As I have refused to accept that my only son is gay

The Rope

He sat and stared at the rope for days
It stared back at him, with a sly grin and a mocking gaze
He knew his thoughts were wrong
He thought he was really strong
But he felt his life had no iota of hope
So he decided to sell it to the rope

Breathe

Breathe,
I know it is your last
But stay a little longer
Let's build castles, let's tour Japan
...and live.


Just breathe,
Even though it is your last
I pray you get stronger
You have exciting dreams with one great plan
-to live!


Please breathe,
You are home at last
Death became friend in those last painful hours
The pain has ebbed, you are free to be,
to truly live...



For Roman

I love you

The words escaped your lips before I could stop them
'I love you'...was the genesis of our problem
For when those words escaped your lips,
I knew, for now, we couldn't be.
How can I love you truly,
when I do not even love me...?

Allen Avenue

We walked these streets, hands softly intertwined,

Emotions spoke on our behalf as we drank wine and dined.

Love was birthed with us on Allen Avenue,

Love also died on these streets with you...

Ebony's Pride

I am fierce, I am dark
I am a word that fought back
I am a nation, I am a people
I am a colour, I am black

I am a race, I am a continent
I am resilient, I am pertinent
I am beautiful no! I won't hide
I stand tall, I'm Ebony's pride

Apartheid I fought, my name is Mandela
12 years a slave, yes! I am Lupita
I am skin thick, I am colour proud
My beauty's song, I will sing loud

For freedom and hope are my life's story
Alas Victory, my own, I go down in history
As fierce, As dark
As a legend that fought back.

The Only time I don’t Jabber

The only time I don’t jabber is when I have a pen to a paper

With fluidity and accuracy like no other, the words flow out smoothly like a river

The only time I don’t stutter is when my knees meet the floor in prayer

With confidence and sheer surety, I converse with a loving and true Deity

The only time I don’t falter is when I’m tucked safely in the arms of a gracious Father

With radical love and tender kindness, He holds me intently and calls me daughter

The only time I don’t flounder is when I'm walking in the footsteps of Abba

With sturdy legs that go on forever, I walk in confidence not like dear Peter

The only time I am a racer is when I take long walks with the one , true Alpha

This is the only time I am free

This is the only time I am me

Spending time with Yahweh is the only time I don't jabber.