Friday 5 May 2017
BUS
I've only ever been on a bus once. All my life I have been chauffeured around. I wouldn't say I don't find it convenient but I don't always get the freedom to board a bus. Today was freedom day. I got on the bus with so much fuss and trouble. Mum also got in with me but I waved her back. "I'll be fine", I said, My cousin, Jimi, would be waiting for me at my destination. All would go well. I settled in quite well, making sure to place my legs well in order to avoid discomfort. It felt strange having people rub against me, but it wasn't much of a big deal. I loved the human connection. The bus was moving at a considerably normal speed, however I couldn't stop my heart from beating fast. It felt nice, seeing the trees as we swept by them. The view was so appealing, trees rising high into the skies, it was a welcome development. So tired was I of seeing masts and tall buildings. The air rushing in brushed my face, I was a little uncomfortable but I enjoyed it, the fresh air much different from an air conditioner. Soon, the driver was yelling bus-stops. Such a hoarse voice should have started me but I somehow liked the rhythm with which he called out the bus stops. "Coker Estate" he yelled, " O wa ooo" I said with joy; copying passengers that had alighted. He got down from the bus, and went around to the trunk while I sat patiently. He carefully brought down my wheelchair and helped me into it. Jimi was waiting around the corner, choosing not to come assist me. I wheeled to where he was standing, smiling with unrestrained joy. " You finally took a bus after all these years " Jimi remarked. " Yes, I slayed my demon." I replied.
-Olabode Taiwo.
Death By Life
Here is a piece from Oyesanya Mosopefoluwa. It is mind blowing stuff. Read to the end. His write ups would also be posted here from time to time.
They called it the Coward's way out
Ade had never claimed to be brave
It seemed to be the only way out
Of this dreary void that was his existence
Plagued with fiscal holes and physical woes
He owed a banker, the cancer owned him
Robbing Peter only to get duped by Paul
His body broken from this never-ending ordeal
He was alone
Cut off from family and friends
The prodigal son who forgot his way home
Doomed to suffer in solitude
The time was near
Ade's sun was about to burn out
Death was soon to be his new way of life
It seemed easier than drowning in the cesspool that was his life
Crossing over the railing
His heart pulsing in tune to the crashing of the foreboding waves
Breathing in his last as he jumped
Ade went meekly into the dark night
and embraced the dying of his light.
P.S: While the events in this piece may denote suicide, I am in no way encouraging, excusing or defending suicide. It is my belief that it is mostly a grievously permanent solution to an oftentimes temporary problem. I just attempted a key-hole view into what probably goes on in the mind of people who attempt or commit suicide.
@Mosopefoluwa_
They called it the Coward's way out
Ade had never claimed to be brave
It seemed to be the only way out
Of this dreary void that was his existence
Plagued with fiscal holes and physical woes
He owed a banker, the cancer owned him
Robbing Peter only to get duped by Paul
His body broken from this never-ending ordeal
He was alone
Cut off from family and friends
The prodigal son who forgot his way home
Doomed to suffer in solitude
The time was near
Ade's sun was about to burn out
Death was soon to be his new way of life
It seemed easier than drowning in the cesspool that was his life
Crossing over the railing
His heart pulsing in tune to the crashing of the foreboding waves
Breathing in his last as he jumped
Ade went meekly into the dark night
and embraced the dying of his light.
P.S: While the events in this piece may denote suicide, I am in no way encouraging, excusing or defending suicide. It is my belief that it is mostly a grievously permanent solution to an oftentimes temporary problem. I just attempted a key-hole view into what probably goes on in the mind of people who attempt or commit suicide.
@Mosopefoluwa_
Friday 28 April 2017
Chronicles Of Willy - Episode 5
This is Episode 5. Let's see how Willy got out of the cell.
The music in my ears was unpleasant; the buzz of mosquitoes. I got on my feet, sleeping in this condition is not in anyway conducive. Femi was sleeping comfortably. I am not surprised as he has been an Awo boy since part 1. I decided to sit close to Femi's leg and just look till morning. Leaning against the wall, I folded my knees to my face and put my head on it. " How far" I heard a voice call from behind me. It was one of the inmates, he was looking at me. He seemingly has been up all the while. "I dey alright" I replied. "Come here make we talk" he said, " This place dey okay" I said. " I no dey paga you joor " He retorted. I moved closer to him and he grabbed me by the ass. I made to run and he let go and laughed hysterically. "Ole oshi, siddon my guy, make we yarn". I sat with him but in my mind, I was cussing "Who be your guy? No wonder, na because we gather dey cell now". "Wetin you dey do for here?" He asked. "I'm here because the cops suspected my friend of internet fraud" I said. "Una be G boys?" He asked excitedly. "No we are not". "Dey mumu yourself there. Anyhow my name is Jidons" He said. His English was slightly accented but it was okay enough. I thought about lying about my name but I thought he might have heard it when I and Femi were talking, so I told him. It was to be that we'd talk all night.
Jidons didn't tell me his real name. He however told me a whole lot about himself. He was an indigene of Ile-Ife and his father was a well respected man in the community. He always gave his dad trouble through his involvement in selling and reselling land and also in various fights around the community. It was rumoured that Jidons was responsible for the death of one Ife youth killed during a street carnival. He however confided in me that he didn't kill him. He told me about a lot of his escapades and at some point, I began to wonder why he was telling me all of it. I wasn't to wonder for so long. After about an hour of discussing, he stopped and said "I just like you, that is why I tell you all this thing o. I wish say I fit dey school like you but my head no fit carry book, so I am impressed that you are in school and you no commot". I sat there starstruck. It was not like I was a mighty scholar or anything and as such, his words touched me deeply. An awkward silence fell and then I asked "What brought you here this time?". He chuckled and said "I slap my Papa small wife, na him the man call police say make they come put me here for two days". I didn't bother asking what could have transpired between him and his stepmother. I was dozing off already when he asked "You be Chelsea fan?" "Yes I am". "Take my number abeg,zero-eight-zero-two-four-one-eight-two-zero-two-eight. Just dey call me make we dey watch ball together". I didn't hear his next words as I slumped into sleep.
I woke up to the sound of the door being opened. The tall officer who arrested us, called out "Where those two boys?". We got on our feet and moved out. He gave us our belongings. Smiling maliciously, he asked, "Have you learnt your lesson?". We got out, the broad daylight almost blinding me. Femi and I didn't speak a word to each other. I had forgotten to bid Jidons farewell. It wasn't like I was looking forward to seeing him again. I had memorised his number anyways. The officers had taken the little change we had, so we had to trek from Moore to Mayfair junction. It was difficult walking because of my sore toes and I had to stop at intervals to rest. We begged for our bus fare from a guy, and headed straight into school. I got to my room in Faj and my roommates looked at me like they had just seen a ghost. Bartholomew and Jide embraced me and asked where I had been. "It's a long story" I said. "Lemme just rest first". I lay down on my bed. Bartholomew had wet it as usual but I didn't mind. I slept four straight hours despite the noise of my roommates. When I woke up, I cooked beans in my very special way.Gbadebo and Mr Julius were waiting with plates in their hands when my beans was ready and I had to give them. After eating, I decided to chill in the room, phone in hand and smile on my face. Jide was as usual playing Small Doctor's music; I didn't mind. I was even nodding my head to the beat. I was chatting with Mystic again; what a better way to relax after a night behind bars. She was more polite this time and soon enough, she gave me her number. Our chat moved to WhatsApp, and it was easier to communicate that way. Her name was Kikelomo Adeniyi. She was a student of International Relations, in her 2nd year; a member of RCF as well. She lived in Acquifer hall in Maintenance. Everything on point. I couldn't believe my luck. I also told her the little I could about myself; no, I didn't tell her I spent the last night in a cell. I was so cautious with the kind of questions I asked because I didn't want to ruin the whole thing. Soon, it was time for me to go out to read. We ended the chat and I asked if I could see her on Monday. She replied "Why not?" and my joy knew no bounds. We agreed 4pm would be okay, at sport complex; the land of yellow railings. My reading was so sweet that night with the thought of Monday constantly bringing joy to my heart. Monday would be Mystic day.
Do you think his first date would be a successful one or would he flop it? Share your thoughts.
See you next Friday.
The music in my ears was unpleasant; the buzz of mosquitoes. I got on my feet, sleeping in this condition is not in anyway conducive. Femi was sleeping comfortably. I am not surprised as he has been an Awo boy since part 1. I decided to sit close to Femi's leg and just look till morning. Leaning against the wall, I folded my knees to my face and put my head on it. " How far" I heard a voice call from behind me. It was one of the inmates, he was looking at me. He seemingly has been up all the while. "I dey alright" I replied. "Come here make we talk" he said, " This place dey okay" I said. " I no dey paga you joor " He retorted. I moved closer to him and he grabbed me by the ass. I made to run and he let go and laughed hysterically. "Ole oshi, siddon my guy, make we yarn". I sat with him but in my mind, I was cussing "Who be your guy? No wonder, na because we gather dey cell now". "Wetin you dey do for here?" He asked. "I'm here because the cops suspected my friend of internet fraud" I said. "Una be G boys?" He asked excitedly. "No we are not". "Dey mumu yourself there. Anyhow my name is Jidons" He said. His English was slightly accented but it was okay enough. I thought about lying about my name but I thought he might have heard it when I and Femi were talking, so I told him. It was to be that we'd talk all night.
Jidons didn't tell me his real name. He however told me a whole lot about himself. He was an indigene of Ile-Ife and his father was a well respected man in the community. He always gave his dad trouble through his involvement in selling and reselling land and also in various fights around the community. It was rumoured that Jidons was responsible for the death of one Ife youth killed during a street carnival. He however confided in me that he didn't kill him. He told me about a lot of his escapades and at some point, I began to wonder why he was telling me all of it. I wasn't to wonder for so long. After about an hour of discussing, he stopped and said "I just like you, that is why I tell you all this thing o. I wish say I fit dey school like you but my head no fit carry book, so I am impressed that you are in school and you no commot". I sat there starstruck. It was not like I was a mighty scholar or anything and as such, his words touched me deeply. An awkward silence fell and then I asked "What brought you here this time?". He chuckled and said "I slap my Papa small wife, na him the man call police say make they come put me here for two days". I didn't bother asking what could have transpired between him and his stepmother. I was dozing off already when he asked "You be Chelsea fan?" "Yes I am". "Take my number abeg,zero-eight-zero-two-four-one-eight-two-zero-two-eight. Just dey call me make we dey watch ball together". I didn't hear his next words as I slumped into sleep.
I woke up to the sound of the door being opened. The tall officer who arrested us, called out "Where those two boys?". We got on our feet and moved out. He gave us our belongings. Smiling maliciously, he asked, "Have you learnt your lesson?". We got out, the broad daylight almost blinding me. Femi and I didn't speak a word to each other. I had forgotten to bid Jidons farewell. It wasn't like I was looking forward to seeing him again. I had memorised his number anyways. The officers had taken the little change we had, so we had to trek from Moore to Mayfair junction. It was difficult walking because of my sore toes and I had to stop at intervals to rest. We begged for our bus fare from a guy, and headed straight into school. I got to my room in Faj and my roommates looked at me like they had just seen a ghost. Bartholomew and Jide embraced me and asked where I had been. "It's a long story" I said. "Lemme just rest first". I lay down on my bed. Bartholomew had wet it as usual but I didn't mind. I slept four straight hours despite the noise of my roommates. When I woke up, I cooked beans in my very special way.Gbadebo and Mr Julius were waiting with plates in their hands when my beans was ready and I had to give them. After eating, I decided to chill in the room, phone in hand and smile on my face. Jide was as usual playing Small Doctor's music; I didn't mind. I was even nodding my head to the beat. I was chatting with Mystic again; what a better way to relax after a night behind bars. She was more polite this time and soon enough, she gave me her number. Our chat moved to WhatsApp, and it was easier to communicate that way. Her name was Kikelomo Adeniyi. She was a student of International Relations, in her 2nd year; a member of RCF as well. She lived in Acquifer hall in Maintenance. Everything on point. I couldn't believe my luck. I also told her the little I could about myself; no, I didn't tell her I spent the last night in a cell. I was so cautious with the kind of questions I asked because I didn't want to ruin the whole thing. Soon, it was time for me to go out to read. We ended the chat and I asked if I could see her on Monday. She replied "Why not?" and my joy knew no bounds. We agreed 4pm would be okay, at sport complex; the land of yellow railings. My reading was so sweet that night with the thought of Monday constantly bringing joy to my heart. Monday would be Mystic day.
Do you think his first date would be a successful one or would he flop it? Share your thoughts.
See you next Friday.
Wednesday 19 April 2017
Chronicles Of Willy - Episode 4
We at otwrites.blogspot. com are sorry for the break in transmission of the series. It was all in a bid to serve you better. The series is back so sit back and enjoy.
My toes felt funny, rough like the soles in harmattan period. It rubbed roughly against my Ankara covercloth and I could feel its coarse surface. Something was up, I turned on my bed and tried to lift my leg up to view. "What an idiot I am". I sat upright and inspected my leg. I didn't play football the day before or hit my leg on a stone, so I didn't understand why my toes felt sore. The surface looked to have been peeled off, and patches of blood were visible here and there. I wondered what could be the cause. I tried to stand up, and then it registered. Faj rats!
I had to wear a pair of sandals to class, my "rat-eaten" toes were too sore to be fitted into any shoes. Today, I declared a global war on rats in the guise of 9/11. Since it was a Friday, (two days after working in my uncle's office) it was okay to wear casuals which fitted with my sandals. My only class at 1pm didn't hold because the lecturer had to cut his hair; such nonchalance. I met Femi at the venue and we left together and went off campus to Mayfair. He wanted to get clothes from a guy named Shigo around the Ori Olokun roundabout.
We got to Mayfair junction and were about to enter the guy's shop when we were stopped by two Officers. I was confused at the time as to whether they were normal police officers or SARS operatives. " Where una dey go, wey una dress like this?" One of them asked; I was wearing a vintage shirt and shorts with a navy blue cap and sandals while Femi had on a jersey, jeans, a red cap and sandals. I was baffled as to what was up with our dressing so I wasn't even in the right frame to answer. Femi however did "We came here to get clothes" he said. " Gimme your phones!" his partner said. I obliged but I noticed some kind of hesitation in Femi, he fiddled with his phone for a while before handing it over. The officers asked us to unlock the phones and they went through it. I didn't have a lot on my phone so there was nothing for them to see. Femi's case was however different, his phone was full of many pictures taken of wild nights and different strange applications. The officers found a chat app "Bib" and went through Femi's chat with a white lady, both of them smiling like they hit the jackpot. " You be Runs boy abi?" One of them asked, Femi just kept looking. "Settle us" the other officer said. " I no get any money " Femi replied. "Oya, make una follow us go station then, una no get money just to settle us abi?, You go sleep cell today" the first officer said. " Excuse me sir, there's nothing on my own phone!" I tried to explain. "Shebi na una two be friend abi?, na two of you we dey carry go station. I stared at Femi, he smiled at me and signalled for me to be calm. I had always known he'd be into something of this nature but I was not so certain. Now that I was in this mess, I had to find my way out. " Officers, how much do you want?" I asked. "Bring just #50k" , the taller one between the two said. It seemed I did not hear right. I guess we just had to go with them.
They put us in the back of their van and drove to their station at Moore. We got there and they put us behind the counter. Femi was relaxed and he told me, we'd come out by paying less if we stalled. I tried to believe him and we sat in silence for about an hour. The officers did not return our phones so there was absolutely nothing to do than read the station walls, that had posters like, "Police is your friend", " Bail is free", " Giant of Africa ". I smiled at the fact that none of all these was true. I mean, the police is nobody's friend, except politicians; bail is only for the rich; and Nigeria is a sleeping giant, if at all it is one, just the other day, a politician named ................ " Two of you, stand up." I heard a voice shout. I was jolted back to reality and I got to my feet quickly. The officer came towards us and told us to move to the cells. I looked at Femi, and he looked at me back, same hopeless look on his face. I wondered how we were going to get out. The officer shoved us inside the cell. There were four guys in the cell already, they were not looking quite friendly, so I and Femi decided to sit quietly. We made to sit but looking at how dirty the floor was, we decided it was best to stand.
"There's no money with me at all" Femi confessed. " I was actually going to get money from Shigo to sustain myself for the weekend, the chat with the woman was a long time ago. I got tired when it wasn't yielding any returns ", " I was hoping we would stall and the officers would eventually let us go when they saw there was no money with us, but I was wrong". " So, you don't have any money on you and none in the bank or anywhere? " I asked. "I'm afraid not Tade". I wouldn't have liked the idea, but part of me wished Femi was joking and he really was a G boy, and probably had money somewhere. Now that I knew he was not, I was relieved that my friend was not a fraudster, but there was still the troubling question. How do we get out??
How do they get out? Do you think Femi is lying or he is being sincere. Send in your comments
My toes felt funny, rough like the soles in harmattan period. It rubbed roughly against my Ankara covercloth and I could feel its coarse surface. Something was up, I turned on my bed and tried to lift my leg up to view. "What an idiot I am". I sat upright and inspected my leg. I didn't play football the day before or hit my leg on a stone, so I didn't understand why my toes felt sore. The surface looked to have been peeled off, and patches of blood were visible here and there. I wondered what could be the cause. I tried to stand up, and then it registered. Faj rats!
I had to wear a pair of sandals to class, my "rat-eaten" toes were too sore to be fitted into any shoes. Today, I declared a global war on rats in the guise of 9/11. Since it was a Friday, (two days after working in my uncle's office) it was okay to wear casuals which fitted with my sandals. My only class at 1pm didn't hold because the lecturer had to cut his hair; such nonchalance. I met Femi at the venue and we left together and went off campus to Mayfair. He wanted to get clothes from a guy named Shigo around the Ori Olokun roundabout.
We got to Mayfair junction and were about to enter the guy's shop when we were stopped by two Officers. I was confused at the time as to whether they were normal police officers or SARS operatives. " Where una dey go, wey una dress like this?" One of them asked; I was wearing a vintage shirt and shorts with a navy blue cap and sandals while Femi had on a jersey, jeans, a red cap and sandals. I was baffled as to what was up with our dressing so I wasn't even in the right frame to answer. Femi however did "We came here to get clothes" he said. " Gimme your phones!" his partner said. I obliged but I noticed some kind of hesitation in Femi, he fiddled with his phone for a while before handing it over. The officers asked us to unlock the phones and they went through it. I didn't have a lot on my phone so there was nothing for them to see. Femi's case was however different, his phone was full of many pictures taken of wild nights and different strange applications. The officers found a chat app "Bib" and went through Femi's chat with a white lady, both of them smiling like they hit the jackpot. " You be Runs boy abi?" One of them asked, Femi just kept looking. "Settle us" the other officer said. " I no get any money " Femi replied. "Oya, make una follow us go station then, una no get money just to settle us abi?, You go sleep cell today" the first officer said. " Excuse me sir, there's nothing on my own phone!" I tried to explain. "Shebi na una two be friend abi?, na two of you we dey carry go station. I stared at Femi, he smiled at me and signalled for me to be calm. I had always known he'd be into something of this nature but I was not so certain. Now that I was in this mess, I had to find my way out. " Officers, how much do you want?" I asked. "Bring just #50k" , the taller one between the two said. It seemed I did not hear right. I guess we just had to go with them.
They put us in the back of their van and drove to their station at Moore. We got there and they put us behind the counter. Femi was relaxed and he told me, we'd come out by paying less if we stalled. I tried to believe him and we sat in silence for about an hour. The officers did not return our phones so there was absolutely nothing to do than read the station walls, that had posters like, "Police is your friend", " Bail is free", " Giant of Africa ". I smiled at the fact that none of all these was true. I mean, the police is nobody's friend, except politicians; bail is only for the rich; and Nigeria is a sleeping giant, if at all it is one, just the other day, a politician named ................ " Two of you, stand up." I heard a voice shout. I was jolted back to reality and I got to my feet quickly. The officer came towards us and told us to move to the cells. I looked at Femi, and he looked at me back, same hopeless look on his face. I wondered how we were going to get out. The officer shoved us inside the cell. There were four guys in the cell already, they were not looking quite friendly, so I and Femi decided to sit quietly. We made to sit but looking at how dirty the floor was, we decided it was best to stand.
"There's no money with me at all" Femi confessed. " I was actually going to get money from Shigo to sustain myself for the weekend, the chat with the woman was a long time ago. I got tired when it wasn't yielding any returns ", " I was hoping we would stall and the officers would eventually let us go when they saw there was no money with us, but I was wrong". " So, you don't have any money on you and none in the bank or anywhere? " I asked. "I'm afraid not Tade". I wouldn't have liked the idea, but part of me wished Femi was joking and he really was a G boy, and probably had money somewhere. Now that I knew he was not, I was relieved that my friend was not a fraudster, but there was still the troubling question. How do we get out??
How do they get out? Do you think Femi is lying or he is being sincere. Send in your comments
Wednesday 29 March 2017
Trapped
A short story before another episode of Chronicles Of Willy drops on Friday
I sat in the corner of the bar quietly sipping my drink. He walked in as noisily as a rickety bicycle and he took his seat beside me. He demanded a double shot, leaned back and downed it in the blink of an eye. Looking at him secretly, I studied him, discovering the tattoo on his neck and a bulge by his side. Something was up with him, I concluded.
I made sure not to order another shot in order to stay alert, I just swirl around the little alcohol left in my glass. I take a mental inventory of everything in the bar. The number of people around; they're roughly 30, two exits and one stage for musical performances; His next move mustn't catch me unawares. Now, looking at the faces of people more intently, I see two more like him, that makes it three men against me.
I made to move out, making sure to mix with the neutrals, Noisy Tattoo follows me with his eyes and signals to his guys. They start to close in on me, I see another guy join them; I didn't spot him during my survey earlier. So, four big guys move in around me with nowhere for me to run to. They signed for me to be quiet, I understand the code and I don't make a fuss. We all walk outside like good buddies and they put me in the back of the sedan, taking off almost as I get in, my panic rising as to where we might be headed.
"Cut!", Director Muyi shouts at that moment, and we all come back to reality, laughing despite our exhaustion. It's just another day on set.........
It didn't end the way you expected? Well, It came like that. I hope you enjoyed.
Comments please!
I sat in the corner of the bar quietly sipping my drink. He walked in as noisily as a rickety bicycle and he took his seat beside me. He demanded a double shot, leaned back and downed it in the blink of an eye. Looking at him secretly, I studied him, discovering the tattoo on his neck and a bulge by his side. Something was up with him, I concluded.
I made sure not to order another shot in order to stay alert, I just swirl around the little alcohol left in my glass. I take a mental inventory of everything in the bar. The number of people around; they're roughly 30, two exits and one stage for musical performances; His next move mustn't catch me unawares. Now, looking at the faces of people more intently, I see two more like him, that makes it three men against me.
I made to move out, making sure to mix with the neutrals, Noisy Tattoo follows me with his eyes and signals to his guys. They start to close in on me, I see another guy join them; I didn't spot him during my survey earlier. So, four big guys move in around me with nowhere for me to run to. They signed for me to be quiet, I understand the code and I don't make a fuss. We all walk outside like good buddies and they put me in the back of the sedan, taking off almost as I get in, my panic rising as to where we might be headed.
"Cut!", Director Muyi shouts at that moment, and we all come back to reality, laughing despite our exhaustion. It's just another day on set.........
It didn't end the way you expected? Well, It came like that. I hope you enjoyed.
Comments please!
Sunday 26 March 2017
CAP Anthology: Puncheon; A tribute to poetry
CAMPUS ASSOCIATION OF POETS'
ANTHOLOGY, THEMED:
PUNCHEON; An Appraisal To Poetry In Respect of
THE WORLD POETRY DAY.
THE WORDSMITH
I'm the wordsmith of the night,
when the night fox howls
with its entire might,
I dip my pen in ink
and find my muse, for tonight,
I want to punch my name into history,
Even if it's for this one night.
For I'm a wordsmith,
Straight into your skull,
My words will hit.
Mr Waduud.
THE WORDSMITH
In the furnace of a blacksmith,
Spawns the roughly fine sword;
Finely processed by the swordsmith;
A tool in the hands of sages and inklords.
The sword leads, cutlasses and hoes follow;
Father of all harmless weapons.
Inform the sparrow to give tongue to morrow,
And morrow to take barrow from bimbo.
A shout out to all my sons abroad;
Tell them to sip from my pot of knowledge.
Use me as an antidote to save lives,
As I lie beneath the poetree.
Poetry is a double edged sword,
Piercing the souls of readers and bards.
A word weaving machine,
Dispensing the thoughts with poetic cards.
Esv_Keks.
We Need Help.
soft made hard
rough made smooth
sinky made strong
thanks to the puncheon
we, like raw gold, thirst for a refining caress from the creator's puncheon
so our acts may towards morality pave way.
our garden, green and white
now dust-turn-brown is on the verge of a "pitiable pismal-dismal". like noon handing over to dusk, we have uncontrollably fallen off the high-heel that made us once a giant. we need the savior's touch!
our societal ills are resistant to pills
our heads are knaves
we need a clean shave
with your puncheon...
harden our land and make it not turn to a grave!
look not away, for these we crave.
Afolabi™
MY PEN;MY PUNCHEON
My pen, my sword,
Weaving to the clock's tick,
Penetrating blocks,
Dividing bricks.
My pen, my megaphone,
Announcing to passers-by,
Breaking bones,
Soothing lullaby.
My pen, my music,
Appealing to my soul,
Enriching tonic,
Alluring tole.
My pen, my mystery,
Twinkling set of clusters,
Creating history,
Amazing wonder.
My pen, my muse,
Supplying my motive,
Providing clues,
Enhancing additive.
My pen, my puncheon,
Wielding with creativity,
Mending truncheons,
Mystifying captivity.
MASCOT.
MY POEM, MY INNER TRUTH
I lie to myself
When I say my poems do not depict my thoughts
I lie to myself
When I say I don't get hurt
I lie to myself
When I say I like being alone
I lie and I know
But I also say the truth
They say the truth will set you free
So I lay down my truth
I love and I hate
That's what makes me human
I feel jealousy because I care a lot
I have a lot of heartbreaks which is really sad
But I hide it under my smile
The truth is I smile so you won't know my weakness
The truth is am not proud but I have a functioning Ego
The truth is i want my name to be written in history
But all I do is write in my diary.
Mcbumnik
DIARYOFAYOUNGPOET
THE PEN; HIS SWORD
His quill is his sword
The parchment, his shield
The words he writes on it is authority
With these instruments he fights battles and wins wars,
Against the evils of this world
Revered by all and disrespected by none
His words are law for nations
He stays true to his art even during times of adversity
Making sure to uphold the truth and nothing else
He is a poet who shapes the world with his pen.
OLABODE TAIWO.
THE PUNCH
Alas!
The crooked road has been punched
Thus made straight
Thanks to the punch
That makes way
For the society has danced
Into flame of shame
And all that snarled
Through the punch came
To witness the fame
In the fist's name
In the field of thorns
The punch waded through
Now a road of torts
The punch made full
Thanks, the punch
The society renders a bunch
KMIXERS
I AM POETRY
I am the mace,
I stand as your alibi of unity,
I am the gavel of morality,
I am the voice,
That speaks of your 'heels,
I am like liver,
That metabolizes your nutrients,
I live,
You exist.
I am the wind,
That blows truth in the world,
I stand, when some minds want to bend,
I do not jubilate at a sight of immortality,
I do that, which will uphold the society,
I am alive for criticism,
I detest racism,
I represent every conscious minds,
I speak nothing but the truth.
I am poetry,
The one who speaks with authority,
Mother of creativity,
Father of morality,
Friend to a moral society,
Enemy to the follies of politics,
I am the symbol of your conscious minds.
LEGACY
PUNCH ON ME
Punch on me
As little as the sun rays
A touch so soft
Yet so destructive to blaze
Far above the reach of human thought.
Punch on me:
The raw metals,
The shining gold,
the glittering diamond petals
The beautiful emerald unfold
Punch on me:
Your nature no such felt
All creatures worth
The beauty of what's ought
And my search will be all sought
Punch on me
The golden knowledge
The axe of fire
The sword of justice
The boldness of heat
Punch on me
For I am here to receive
The punch of transformation
To fight the fight of truth
I am desperate for the punch.
Justus Ogar.
THE SEAL
Affirmation from the elders I seek
Considering the knowledge he has gained
Widely, then was it revealed to me
The mystery behind what I seek
The affirmation is the delight I get
Ye from the bleeding of my own pen
The confidence I derive from my hands
The pleasure I derive from adding
Oh to my own knowledge
Thou art the affirmation I need
Now that it's been known by me
What I ye needed to do
Is work harder and build on it
Lest I become a better personality
And incoming generation can also seek
Affirmation from me thereof
I DO
I do express my words in pen
I do expose the deeds with words
I do make imaginations wide
I do make sake fake seems realistic
I do configure your thought to resemble mine
I do more than you can think with my pen
I do know for sure my own is mightier than the sword
I do need to remember it needs to be sharpened often
I do need to make sure its life is retained
Hence make
I do refill my ink
I do make sure it never hours dry.
D-/PRIN'SES/
SUPREME COURT OF POETRY
A
Place
Where they
Subtract one guilt
Add some ironic sugar
A bit of rhythmic ointment
Then garnish it with salty words
An image here and a symbol there
Personify it with the ills and norms therein
Then state their problems and woes a-lyrically
Proverbialise their thoughts or- state in clear terms
Then add Shakespeare without shaking the Sphere
Osofisan becomes the hoe to sow the sun
Then
You know
In that place
That multiplication will be the shortened version of addition
So economic paralyses becomes historical euphemism
There is no room for defending epic successful failure
Then the hyphenated characters there, forever is lost
This is how you know that poetry isn't just a diviner
It is a seer not just to command or demand
When it reprimands, that is the result
Of intellectual provocation
Then they enjoy in happiness
And
Drink this glass of wine 'cos
Poetry is just extremely divine!
MUTEEHEART
POETRY
In the beginning, God created poetry.
Poetry birthed every thing.
First line ever would be:
Let there be light.
Never of His words would go unfulfilled He said.
His blessings and rebukes through His words.
Prints became immortal sister of words.
Piercing the soul or soothing the heart.
AKEENS
WHAT IS POETRY?
I write in the wilderness of anger
Where i command the pen
To speak, write and proclaim
What it sees, feel and think.
Poetry sets from the North, East, South-West,
It is the mother of every children,
The one who does not have father
Yet, with many unborn generations.
Poetry is the voice
That does not have mouth
But with a melodious tone
'Cos it wont sees not to tell but the truth.
Poetry is a soothsayer
That tells the truth
And proclaim authority
With a manifest audacity.
Poetry is a composition of verse
Exhibiting conscious attention to problems
Through the minds -
The ink through which it tell.
Poetry is the bile
That liveth in the heart of the personnel
To correct ill manners of the society
And foster credibility of the moralities.
MR. PRINCIPLE
PUNCHEON
The prison is also for human beings
Saith their crappy voice against ours
And we thought we brought them on
So very better we Re-think
Forever seeking freedom; humans
Never running dry; our pens
Only tool they hate; our minds
Their first antagonist; the poets.
The long term memories
The day changing secrets
The sooth revealers
All God's works are all ours
Powerful to rip apart
Unashamed to mend souls
Hope for the weak
Medication to the mind
Medievalist we are
With just a message, she's off her feet
With lullabies in poem, he's won over
With emotional poems, we stopped crisis
With written texts, we are all over
Got the keys to the locked gates
We hold the stamp to blueprints
Alas, the voice of a poet resounds
The works of a writer talks
The beauty in our poems shines
And behold! Poets don't die!
I'm a poet
I'm an icon
I'm a puncheon.
SamTemmy.
AN ODE TO POETRY
You were there,
Announcing yourself like the town crier,
And passing a message,
Like the sound from the talking drum.
You are here,
Bringing words together,
Creating a platform,
One that would project what you speak.
You will continue to be,
For words will not cease to be,
An edifice,
You will forever make out of them.
Whether you stand or sit,
In paper or in voices,
You will execute the purpose,
For which you exist.
StarBabe.
PUNCHEON
Lines, stanzas - emotion
All in one, words flow
Anthology - attention
They are one in spirit - the glow
Never underestimate poem's power
It always work where it could save
It's nothing but a life saver
The true nature is a heart safe
I speak seventeen syllables
All combined to give a haiku
Five - seven - five words syllables
All fused in three stanza-coup
I'm a coup mastermind
Punching words to pierce the mind
Never scared of using metaphor
To cause my opponents fall
I'm just a learner who spew poetry
Although I can't spell onomatopoeia
Or differentiate innuendo from irony
I'm not a faker but a word wielder
I write rhymes but worries about rhythm
Wondering if they could add up to create sonnets
Plus if poetry could be sung in church like a hymn
Maybe poetry will breed a lot of Saints.
To who that refuses to see beyond,
Survival of depression without expression
Is like driving a car with no petrol!
Poetry is my expression and petrol!
Emaculate Ife.
PUNCHEON
And who says a poet can be put into a dungeon?
When he has not lost his poetic lines,
Neither has he lost his muse,
He possess puncheon,
Forever with his bleeding pen.
Living with the memories of when poets are neglected,
Kept most poets in emotional trauma.
Their pens remain in everlasting oubliette,
So rusty and dusty,
Only the brave ones survived the agony of the atrocity.
Poets are meant to be celebrated,
Appreciated and not deserted,
For from their celebrations,
Come muse for more word masturbation,
Which produces life beautification and titivation.
Oluwanifemi.
AN OVATION TO POETRY
Dark and frozen mysteries
You lighten and turn up stories
You unleash hidden truths
And teach mighty fools
You crawl into deepest thoughts
And make minds courts
You cut through noisy hearts
You rule over gentle minds
They rejoice in meeting their kinds
And they bring nature into art
They bring kings to meditate
And write even on slate
You hold famous legends
And can predict a good end
You exist to help souls
If they are ready to act their roles
You do no racism
For You join Euphrates to Mississippi
You are not god
But every poets knows your eulogy
For you are the voice of the poor
The lyrics of every couplet
And the power of greatest minds.
poetry!
You are a puncheon
That sink through every mind's
And you never cease to exist
For I heard Solomon wrote you an ode
And shakespare borrowed from thee
And I read of Oscars lines
And am sure you'll travel till the world folds
And until the earth ceases.
QUEEN NICY
MY POEM;MY LIFE
Deep down am lost,
feel like am shredded,
but you found me and gave me hope
of years to come.
I wallow in nothingness,
you supported me with your loving ness,
day by day I'm charged towards my slate
wherein my life dwells.
when am dejected,
I find love in you,
you know the every me,
even the darkest side is like mirror to u.
Hordunlaryor.
PUNCHEON
Aged Golden Rod held highly by world's wordsmiths,
Powerful sturdy stamp that commands both kings and slaves.
Purely colourless translucent drinkable water of the wise,
Unsavory tasteless unswallowable solidity for fools.
Faceless faces breathing heavily with bodilessness,
Call it the immaterial substance that covers space,
Call it the whispering winds in hollow sphere,
The immortality of gone mortals like Shakespeare.
Should I say it is Fairy Power or Real Authority?
Or should I simply call it what it is; POETRY!
MISS LOVE
PUNCHEON
Give me this sword
Let me hold it by its neck.
Only this can show to the world
That it is I that has been ordained.
Just this I crave to have
A symbol of hope
For the nation that I have
Been ordained to dominate.
Give me my strength; our strength
Myself and Shakespeare's
This poetry is our blood
Myself and others.
This poetry is our own authority.
KING JUSTICE
It's the celebration of poetry. I hope you enjoyed. Let your thoughts flow in.
Saturday 25 March 2017
Don't Think About It
You, I mean you. Yes, you there. I can read your mind, it's getting hard and you're considering dropping out. Don't think about it.
It gets better, just hold on and see it through.
Friday 24 March 2017
Chronicles Of Willy - Episode 3
Willy's day at his uncle's office. Let's see what happened.
It happened on my way back to Faj. I actually read at Education Building, so I passed Adminstration through White House when going back. I was about crossing the road to White House, when I heard the song, " Eyo" by Asa. Being a song I like, I turned my head towards the sound. Lo and behold, it was coming from the Me-Suya's phone and he was singing along. I moved closer to his stand, and I heard the lyrics coming from his mouth "...Leeking rand, you see all da fiful, making paces ferry cool....". I was so shocked and I actually didn't mind his diction. I approached him and discovered that he speaks good English. It's just amazing how almost everyone on campus is a scholar in his field. It was 4am when I got to my room. I fetched water before sleeping and awoke at 7. Thankfully, my water was left unused. I got set for classes and left the room by 8. I had two classes to attend and then I'd resume at my uncle's office.
My classes went smoothly without any hitch as I kept my distance from Femi and Dozie. I entered Uncle Lanre's office at exactly 1pm. He was sitting behind the desk, working on the computer. After exchanging pleasantries, he instructed me to clear the files and arrange them into boxes in a chronological order. After an hour of working, I found the test script of one Titus Bankole. The guy actually had 30 over 40 and his script was laying beneath many old documents. "Uncle Lanre, this is someone's script sir", I said. He took it from me, looked at it and nonchalantly put it in his drawer. "I'm sure he's planning to retake the course already" he said. "But sir, you could at least try to find him and help with rectifying his result" I countered. He sighed, looked me in the eyes and said " He is not the first person, neither is he the last that would have the issue of a missing script, so don't make it sound like it's the issue of the Missing Chibok girls" he said. He chuckled softly, expecting me to catch on the joke while I stood there looking dismayed. It took much to rein in my reproach and I went back to work, completing the rest of the work in silence.
After two hours of working, I was done and I got set to leave. My uncle bade me farewell without giving me my phone, and I stood rooted to the spot. I stood for about 10minutes before he gave me the phone making sure to dish out some admonishments. I was about leaving his office, he called me back and stretched a thousand naira note to me. I thought of rejecting it, but the fact that I barely had foodstuffs overcame my anger and I collected it. I left his office having nowhere in mind to go. I just kept on walking, deep in thoughts as to what Bankole must have gone through, and my uncle's nonchalance about the issue. I put it at the back of my mind as there was nothing to do about it. My legs led me to SUB; going there was almost a reflex. Maybe I'll just go to the secretariat, I need to pay my annual dues for the session, and I'll just chill and browse in Chukwusa(MTN network is best there). Killing three birds with a stone, yeah?
On getting to the Student Union Secretariat, I found it closed. It is quite strange, not at this time of the day. I tried opening it, but it's locked from inside. I start to move away when I hear muffled voices, I can't pick out what they're saying so I put my ears at the door. An authoritative masculine voice is speaking in harsh tones, I can't get an hang of what he's saying. I try to listen more intently, leaning closed on the door. I hear movement on the other side of the door, someone is opening it. I move quickly away from the door, running fast into the toilet. A guy passed by, Daski, he must have been the one who left the room. He is a very popular guy on campus. I leave the toilet and try to trace him, he however has blended with the crowd. I feel like something fishy is up. The meeting behind closed doors and the muffled voices, all do not add up. I have even forgotten now about paying any dues. I'm baffled as to what I just witnessed might mean. Sooner or later I'll probably find out. It might just have been an excos meeting; excos are notorious for speaking in harsh tones during their meetings. Now that I got my phone back, I've a lot to catch up on. I remember my plan to check out girls on @lifeofoaustudent page on Instagram and soon I'm looking up several OAU girls, surprisingly spoilt for choice. There are very prominent ones such as, @Mzzie, @graeceey, @christabel. I think these ones will be too hard to get. I decide to go with the ones who don't look much like the "run-it- babes". The girl with the username @Mystic catches my eye and I quickly follow and send her a DM. " Hey pretty, I've been through your pictures and I like your page". Within seconds, she replied "Next time, use a better line, thanks tho". I like her witty reply. "I plan to use a better line next time Mystic. I'm about to unravel your mystery!!!
Cases of missing scripts is common place, and it seems Willy might have uncovered something. We will find out soon enough
Episode dedicated to the victims of the tribal clash in Ile-Ife💔
It happened on my way back to Faj. I actually read at Education Building, so I passed Adminstration through White House when going back. I was about crossing the road to White House, when I heard the song, " Eyo" by Asa. Being a song I like, I turned my head towards the sound. Lo and behold, it was coming from the Me-Suya's phone and he was singing along. I moved closer to his stand, and I heard the lyrics coming from his mouth "...Leeking rand, you see all da fiful, making paces ferry cool....". I was so shocked and I actually didn't mind his diction. I approached him and discovered that he speaks good English. It's just amazing how almost everyone on campus is a scholar in his field. It was 4am when I got to my room. I fetched water before sleeping and awoke at 7. Thankfully, my water was left unused. I got set for classes and left the room by 8. I had two classes to attend and then I'd resume at my uncle's office.
My classes went smoothly without any hitch as I kept my distance from Femi and Dozie. I entered Uncle Lanre's office at exactly 1pm. He was sitting behind the desk, working on the computer. After exchanging pleasantries, he instructed me to clear the files and arrange them into boxes in a chronological order. After an hour of working, I found the test script of one Titus Bankole. The guy actually had 30 over 40 and his script was laying beneath many old documents. "Uncle Lanre, this is someone's script sir", I said. He took it from me, looked at it and nonchalantly put it in his drawer. "I'm sure he's planning to retake the course already" he said. "But sir, you could at least try to find him and help with rectifying his result" I countered. He sighed, looked me in the eyes and said " He is not the first person, neither is he the last that would have the issue of a missing script, so don't make it sound like it's the issue of the Missing Chibok girls" he said. He chuckled softly, expecting me to catch on the joke while I stood there looking dismayed. It took much to rein in my reproach and I went back to work, completing the rest of the work in silence.
After two hours of working, I was done and I got set to leave. My uncle bade me farewell without giving me my phone, and I stood rooted to the spot. I stood for about 10minutes before he gave me the phone making sure to dish out some admonishments. I was about leaving his office, he called me back and stretched a thousand naira note to me. I thought of rejecting it, but the fact that I barely had foodstuffs overcame my anger and I collected it. I left his office having nowhere in mind to go. I just kept on walking, deep in thoughts as to what Bankole must have gone through, and my uncle's nonchalance about the issue. I put it at the back of my mind as there was nothing to do about it. My legs led me to SUB; going there was almost a reflex. Maybe I'll just go to the secretariat, I need to pay my annual dues for the session, and I'll just chill and browse in Chukwusa(MTN network is best there). Killing three birds with a stone, yeah?
On getting to the Student Union Secretariat, I found it closed. It is quite strange, not at this time of the day. I tried opening it, but it's locked from inside. I start to move away when I hear muffled voices, I can't pick out what they're saying so I put my ears at the door. An authoritative masculine voice is speaking in harsh tones, I can't get an hang of what he's saying. I try to listen more intently, leaning closed on the door. I hear movement on the other side of the door, someone is opening it. I move quickly away from the door, running fast into the toilet. A guy passed by, Daski, he must have been the one who left the room. He is a very popular guy on campus. I leave the toilet and try to trace him, he however has blended with the crowd. I feel like something fishy is up. The meeting behind closed doors and the muffled voices, all do not add up. I have even forgotten now about paying any dues. I'm baffled as to what I just witnessed might mean. Sooner or later I'll probably find out. It might just have been an excos meeting; excos are notorious for speaking in harsh tones during their meetings. Now that I got my phone back, I've a lot to catch up on. I remember my plan to check out girls on @lifeofoaustudent page on Instagram and soon I'm looking up several OAU girls, surprisingly spoilt for choice. There are very prominent ones such as, @Mzzie, @graeceey, @christabel. I think these ones will be too hard to get. I decide to go with the ones who don't look much like the "run-it- babes". The girl with the username @Mystic catches my eye and I quickly follow and send her a DM. " Hey pretty, I've been through your pictures and I like your page". Within seconds, she replied "Next time, use a better line, thanks tho". I like her witty reply. "I plan to use a better line next time Mystic. I'm about to unravel your mystery!!!
Cases of missing scripts is common place, and it seems Willy might have uncovered something. We will find out soon enough
Episode dedicated to the victims of the tribal clash in Ile-Ife💔
Thursday 16 March 2017
Chronicles Of Willy - Episode 2
Good day people, Let's start off from where we stopped, to find out who Willy saw and what followed. Enjoy
Sulking as we left Amphi, I placed the blame on Femi and Dozie. They surely should have alerted me that he was coming. "We no see am until he done near now" Femi said. "He told me not to talk" Dozie added. "If you guys were not so busy with the ladies, I wouldn't have been left all alone and I wouldn't have been listening to music". They both stared at me with puzzled expressions. Now, it's awkward, I couldn't blame them for my inability to be a ladies' man and I think I'm starting to sound like I'm pained. "We're going to SUB carpark, will you come with us?" Dozie asked. "No, I'll just chill at Chukwusa and go on to my room from there" I replied. They both tried to shake me, and I refused, resulting in them pulling me into a bear hug, that got me laughing; an idiot in front of SUB shouted "Una wan do threesome"?. After two years, it's easy to ignore people like that.
My uncle had confiscated my phone when he caught me listening to music in a class, He's a junior lecturer in Sociology so he's in charge of a Special Elective. He was to take his class immediately after the 201 class and he had just gotten in when he spotted me and made my day worse than it already was. He'd yanked the earpiece off and twisted my ears; right in front of guys and girls, even people that were looking at me when I entered. Uncle Lanre as I call him, is my dad's immediate younger brother and I couldn't have disrespected him when he asked that I hand over my phone. Right there, we struck a deal that I would come help out in his office the following day and only then would he consider giving back the phone.
Later as I entered SUB TV room or Chukwusa as it's called, I wondered how I would survive tomorrow's work. "Willy"(close friends call me Willy, short for my surname Williams) I heard a voice call. I turned in the direction of the voice and I see Folasayo sitting, in the glory of her incredible figure, it amazed me how a girl like this could be so conservative in her orientation. She's about my closest female friend, those kind of friends you never even consider going into anything with; if you know what I mean. We got talking through Femi;he had been so keen on getting her at some point. Folasayo and I hit it off quite well and the rest they say is history.
" Kilo shey eh, why are you looking so worked up" she asked. I replied with a sigh and walked her through the events of the day beginning with waking up at HSLT down to my encounter with Uncle Lanre at Amphitheatre. I left her laughing uncontrollably and I couldn't even finish my narration. "Aaaaaaw, Pele baby, come and hug Mummy" she joked. I moved closer and I hugged her across the chairs making sure to put my head on her ample bossom; it'd never for once felt anything less than good. We got talking about other stuff, gist and happenings in school. She was soon telling me about the escapades of the craziest girls on campus and then went ahead to show me pictures of some of them. She opened @lifeofoaustudents page on Instagram to show me their pictures and it was like she was opening a new world entirely. I'd never before seen the page and so was amazed by how many OAU students I'd never seen. Pretty chicks, big boys,cool guys, cheesy pictures of couples and every other thing interesting.
It crossed my mind there that I just might have been handed a lifeline. I could get girls on this page. At least if I gamble with about 5, luck might shine on me and I'll get 1. This realization further urged me to face my quest to get the phone back tomorrow. It appeared my day could still be good after all. It was 2pm already, I thought of just stabbing all the classes I had left for the day, my mood had improved greatly by then. I hugged Folasayo, she'd made my day, I decided I'll just go to my room to rest, then go jack in the evening.
At SUB carpark, there was an MTN show going on, A rap competition specifically, events like this were always fun. A guy stepped up with the stage name Moko. "Yo, Yo, Yo. M-O-K-O, my name is Moko, very soon I go blow like Boko, everytime I go village Mo ma n mu koko, that's why I stand gidigba bi iroko". Everyone around including me burst out laughing, we were never going to be rid of rappers like this. I'd had enough for the day. I turned on my way to the hostel, singing Moko's line as I walked. I got to my room in no time, entering in a jolly mood. My mood however turned sour as I saw Bartholomew sleeping on my bed, sweat and spittle dampening the bed. I tapped him awake with all the aggression I could muster, and chased him from my bed. Now I had to change my bedsheets. I slept till around 8pm; freshened up , ate and went out to read
I actually did read at length that night; for the first time in the semester. I also encountered something I'd never seen before throughout my stay on campus.
My OAU students, which OAU rapper rhymes like Moko?
Drop your answer in the comment box
Chronicles Of Willy returns next Friday
God bless
Sulking as we left Amphi, I placed the blame on Femi and Dozie. They surely should have alerted me that he was coming. "We no see am until he done near now" Femi said. "He told me not to talk" Dozie added. "If you guys were not so busy with the ladies, I wouldn't have been left all alone and I wouldn't have been listening to music". They both stared at me with puzzled expressions. Now, it's awkward, I couldn't blame them for my inability to be a ladies' man and I think I'm starting to sound like I'm pained. "We're going to SUB carpark, will you come with us?" Dozie asked. "No, I'll just chill at Chukwusa and go on to my room from there" I replied. They both tried to shake me, and I refused, resulting in them pulling me into a bear hug, that got me laughing; an idiot in front of SUB shouted "Una wan do threesome"?. After two years, it's easy to ignore people like that.
My uncle had confiscated my phone when he caught me listening to music in a class, He's a junior lecturer in Sociology so he's in charge of a Special Elective. He was to take his class immediately after the 201 class and he had just gotten in when he spotted me and made my day worse than it already was. He'd yanked the earpiece off and twisted my ears; right in front of guys and girls, even people that were looking at me when I entered. Uncle Lanre as I call him, is my dad's immediate younger brother and I couldn't have disrespected him when he asked that I hand over my phone. Right there, we struck a deal that I would come help out in his office the following day and only then would he consider giving back the phone.
Later as I entered SUB TV room or Chukwusa as it's called, I wondered how I would survive tomorrow's work. "Willy"(close friends call me Willy, short for my surname Williams) I heard a voice call. I turned in the direction of the voice and I see Folasayo sitting, in the glory of her incredible figure, it amazed me how a girl like this could be so conservative in her orientation. She's about my closest female friend, those kind of friends you never even consider going into anything with; if you know what I mean. We got talking through Femi;he had been so keen on getting her at some point. Folasayo and I hit it off quite well and the rest they say is history.
" Kilo shey eh, why are you looking so worked up" she asked. I replied with a sigh and walked her through the events of the day beginning with waking up at HSLT down to my encounter with Uncle Lanre at Amphitheatre. I left her laughing uncontrollably and I couldn't even finish my narration. "Aaaaaaw, Pele baby, come and hug Mummy" she joked. I moved closer and I hugged her across the chairs making sure to put my head on her ample bossom; it'd never for once felt anything less than good. We got talking about other stuff, gist and happenings in school. She was soon telling me about the escapades of the craziest girls on campus and then went ahead to show me pictures of some of them. She opened @lifeofoaustudents page on Instagram to show me their pictures and it was like she was opening a new world entirely. I'd never before seen the page and so was amazed by how many OAU students I'd never seen. Pretty chicks, big boys,cool guys, cheesy pictures of couples and every other thing interesting.
It crossed my mind there that I just might have been handed a lifeline. I could get girls on this page. At least if I gamble with about 5, luck might shine on me and I'll get 1. This realization further urged me to face my quest to get the phone back tomorrow. It appeared my day could still be good after all. It was 2pm already, I thought of just stabbing all the classes I had left for the day, my mood had improved greatly by then. I hugged Folasayo, she'd made my day, I decided I'll just go to my room to rest, then go jack in the evening.
At SUB carpark, there was an MTN show going on, A rap competition specifically, events like this were always fun. A guy stepped up with the stage name Moko. "Yo, Yo, Yo. M-O-K-O, my name is Moko, very soon I go blow like Boko, everytime I go village Mo ma n mu koko, that's why I stand gidigba bi iroko". Everyone around including me burst out laughing, we were never going to be rid of rappers like this. I'd had enough for the day. I turned on my way to the hostel, singing Moko's line as I walked. I got to my room in no time, entering in a jolly mood. My mood however turned sour as I saw Bartholomew sleeping on my bed, sweat and spittle dampening the bed. I tapped him awake with all the aggression I could muster, and chased him from my bed. Now I had to change my bedsheets. I slept till around 8pm; freshened up , ate and went out to read
I actually did read at length that night; for the first time in the semester. I also encountered something I'd never seen before throughout my stay on campus.
My OAU students, which OAU rapper rhymes like Moko?
Drop your answer in the comment box
Chronicles Of Willy returns next Friday
God bless
Wednesday 15 March 2017
High School
We all remember when we left High School, or if we haven't. We'd find out soon. We all made promises, felt sad and all. We just find out that years after. We simply do not know what happens to those promises.
This is Olaniyi's story.
It's one of those days when I just don't want to raise an arm, I'll probably stay in bed all day and enjoy the cool weather. Food will be brought by my little sister, she already knows what to do on my off days. I pick up my phone to reply my WhatsApp messages; just a checkup message from "bae" and a broadcast message from my friend Tade.
I reply the messages and decide to go through my WhatsApp contacts, I stumble on Rachel's profile picture, I'm suprised, she has make-up on and also a pair of trousers, she had always been an "SU" back then in secondary school, always preaching the evils of dating and other worldly things. David's picture is a different story entirely, he is now a strong believer in Christ as his Bible can be seen in his hands, back then he was notorious and was always the subject of teachers' discussions.
Before I realise it, I'm doing a full scale survey of the lives of my secondary school mates, knowing their stories through their pictures as I hardly ever talk to any of them anymore. Sade, the least attractive girl in class then is now a model and Amos, dullard of the class seems to be a Rivers State government official. My best friend, Chuks; well seems to be an "happening guy", his picture shows him with Wizkid, obviously stoned. I wish I could reach out to him but I can't. My high school love, Abisola, is married now with a kid; the cute boy as her display picture; I laugh now as I remember the childish vows we made to each other back then.
I, Olaniyi, am here and my profile picture shows me in my 9-5 attire, my dreams of being independent as soon as possible is obviously taking sometime. I hope we all will be alright and fulfilled, and most of all still able to relate when we see again. Someday.
I'm sure we all can definitely relate. I was a good boy back then and I still am, did you change?
Can you score this please? Range of 1-10
P.S: Chronicles Of Willy returns on Friday. I'm super excited.
This is Olaniyi's story.
It's one of those days when I just don't want to raise an arm, I'll probably stay in bed all day and enjoy the cool weather. Food will be brought by my little sister, she already knows what to do on my off days. I pick up my phone to reply my WhatsApp messages; just a checkup message from "bae" and a broadcast message from my friend Tade.
I reply the messages and decide to go through my WhatsApp contacts, I stumble on Rachel's profile picture, I'm suprised, she has make-up on and also a pair of trousers, she had always been an "SU" back then in secondary school, always preaching the evils of dating and other worldly things. David's picture is a different story entirely, he is now a strong believer in Christ as his Bible can be seen in his hands, back then he was notorious and was always the subject of teachers' discussions.
Before I realise it, I'm doing a full scale survey of the lives of my secondary school mates, knowing their stories through their pictures as I hardly ever talk to any of them anymore. Sade, the least attractive girl in class then is now a model and Amos, dullard of the class seems to be a Rivers State government official. My best friend, Chuks; well seems to be an "happening guy", his picture shows him with Wizkid, obviously stoned. I wish I could reach out to him but I can't. My high school love, Abisola, is married now with a kid; the cute boy as her display picture; I laugh now as I remember the childish vows we made to each other back then.
I, Olaniyi, am here and my profile picture shows me in my 9-5 attire, my dreams of being independent as soon as possible is obviously taking sometime. I hope we all will be alright and fulfilled, and most of all still able to relate when we see again. Someday.
I'm sure we all can definitely relate. I was a good boy back then and I still am, did you change?
Can you score this please? Range of 1-10
P.S: Chronicles Of Willy returns on Friday. I'm super excited.
Monday 13 March 2017
Ratata & Ratania
This is a short story of two black rats. One named Ratata, the other named Ratania
Ratata and Ratania
We tried being casual without any casualties, so we did know that we had to be pleasant with our pleasantries. One day, we took a tour down to Paris, strolling into a parish, where we prayed not to be preys. Leaving Paris, we went to Rome, and around the ancient city we began to roam, finding ourselves at the Vatican, the crucifix in the city standing vertical.
On our way back to America, we snuck into the back of Nelly's car, where we drank up the water in the jerrican. From America, we found our way to Asia, by this time fighting with amnesia. We couldn't find our way home, and so we decided to stay and live within a dome.
I love this story. What about you? Do you think it could become a blockbuster if it was a movie?
Comments below
Ratata and Ratania
We tried being casual without any casualties, so we did know that we had to be pleasant with our pleasantries. One day, we took a tour down to Paris, strolling into a parish, where we prayed not to be preys. Leaving Paris, we went to Rome, and around the ancient city we began to roam, finding ourselves at the Vatican, the crucifix in the city standing vertical.
On our way back to America, we snuck into the back of Nelly's car, where we drank up the water in the jerrican. From America, we found our way to Asia, by this time fighting with amnesia. We couldn't find our way home, and so we decided to stay and live within a dome.
I love this story. What about you? Do you think it could become a blockbuster if it was a movie?
Comments below
Thursday 9 March 2017
Chronicles Of Willy - Episode 1
I'm Akintade Williams, a part 2 student of Economics. I remember vividly when I gained admission, I dreamt of being like Karl Marx, David Ricardo, and even Sanusi Lamido, so I'd use my knowledge to change the world; but two years into my stay in OAU, I've barely changed the behaviour of my roommates who litter the room with clothes and books. Jide, the only part 1 roommate I've is a Small Doctor fan. It feels like every time I attempt reading in the room, is when he craves hearing the "ah ah ah ahn ah ehn" sound. Bartholomew or Mr Batman as I call him is the "slippers" of the room, always sleeping anywhere and at anytime. Gbadebo is my biggest padi, the only thing is that he's a little dirty if I must be diplomatic with the truth. We always have that rotten smell that oozes from undone dishes at the back of the room which doubles as our kitchen. I'd have told him my mind blankly but for the sake of friendship. We certainly are not four, but all my other roommates only come to sleep at night and are off the following morning. I barely know the names of some of them. I think they're about 4 in number, Boda Isaiah, Mr Julius and two other guys; you might like to call them *squatters* . I am like the flyest guy in my room sha; glasses, straight jeans, vintage and check shirts, denim jackets and a little buoyancy in terms of cash.
It just seems that the only problem I've is I barely have a girl in my life; I mean asides the girls that always want to collect my shirts, don't get me wrong, I've girls who have come and gone, be cool for one week or two and then we go back to being casual greeters; the shirt-pirates are the only constant ones who have stayed. Not like I need girls tho but to be honest, "Who doesn't?". Sade has been my crush since Pre Degree. I took her out couples of times. It had to stop when she was always talking about her boyfriend at our dates. I mean she even used to collect "takeaway". I'm sure it was always for her boyfriend. One yeye Patrick guy like that in Accounting.
My fate seems to have been sealed when it comes to getting a girl so I decided about a month ago to focus on my studies. I'm on a 3.95 cgpa. Maybe if I put in more effort this semester it'd be for the best. I surprised myself and all my friends when I joined the league of people who always went out to read on the first day of resumption. "I no even know wetin push me that day". I got there and I reasoned that it's not like we've done anything, or could I have read blank lines? O boy, that day I beat my high score in Zuma with my system and all the "efikos" at ODLT were just staring. I did stare back like " Do I look like Elujoba?".
It's a week and half already into the semester. I still haven't succeeded in reading for an hour at a stretch. Yesterday's experience at HSLT A convinced me that I had to take a drastic step if I really want to do well this semester. I just hope this semester brings something good 'cause I want nothing less than the best.
I've to run to Amphitheatre from Faj for SOC202 class. It's not like they'll take attendance or anything but I've to get there just when everyone is getting settled so I'll be the cynosure of all eyes. You know, in my black on black and sleek vintage tie. I can't afford to dress so good and let it waste. I actually had to let Jide off the hook when I realised there was nothing I could do to get my water back; he had to attend a 7am class at First Bank Lecture Theatre and the lecturer always took attendance during the first 20 minutes of the class. I took my bath by asking for one bowl of water from all ten rooms on my block. I'll deal with him when I get back.
Stepping into Amphi, I go to meet my gees sitting at our spot, the "topmost top" as far away from the lecturer as possible. It's not like I enjoy sitting here but it's one of perks of being a fly guy. I definitely turned some heads when I entered and that feeling of vain pride never grows stale. Femi, the first guy I made friends with in my class and Dozie, our friend from Sociology are my gees. We three are sometimes called triplets by some members of the class. Femi is one of the most complicated people I've met, he's a very intelligent guy, one of the best in Mathematics, but his intellectual life doesn't fit in with his social life; parties in Buka, rendezvous with different girls in one night and a crazy style of dressing. I'm okay with all these. Rolling with him has made me quite popular; at least I know all the "happening guys"(even if na only greet, I dey greet them) and he also helps out with academics. Dozie on the other hand, is brilliant notwithstanding but hardly takes time out to read like Femi. He passes his exams but always has to crash-read. He and Femi always strike bets when it comes to issues concerning girls and so many times, hapless me, has to be the umpire.
Sometimes I always feel like I'm the duff of the lot, just like now. Femi and Dozie are chatting with two pretty ladies, while I'm left to draw patterns at the back of my note. Following the lecturer is out of question as I'm too far away. I bring out my phone with my earphones plugged. Music has always been the opium. My favourite songs, Ayo Jay's Your Number, Burna Boy's Like to party, Chris Brown's Fine by me and all the others have always proved to be enough to take me away from the present. This time however, it took me from the present to another realm and I suffered for it. I was jamming Jidenna's Little Bit More at that moment with my head bent over my book, on which I was still drawing patterns. The music had gotten to me so naturally that I was nodding to the beat and stamping my feet. Suddenly, I saw a hand reach out to unplug my earphones. Instinctively, I reached out to keep them in. I got slapped on my hand. I looked up to express my anger, but it just happened to be the last person I expected to see, and I froze in shock.
Who do you think he saw? Comments below
Chronicles Of Willy- Prologue
I'm excited. This is a new journey I'm starting. I never thought I'd write a series. Anyways, I'm ready to serve you the best. Let's hand over to Akintade "Willy" Williams now. This is the Prologue.
Slowly, I awake. I feel so uncomfortable and I don't know why. Struggling to get my eyes to focus. I tapped my sides for my glasses, finding them in my breast pocket. I'm in HSLT A; "For how long?". My phone says the time is 6:00am, I don't believe. " Bros wetin be time, abeg?". "6", the guy beside me replied. It means I've slept for all four hours I've been out. Class is by 8, my mental alarm ticks me and I pack my stuff to leave. Another unproductive reading expenditure. Moving out of the room, the girl I scoped when I arrived looked at me with a mixture of pity and contempt. I know, I deserve it. I didn't even open my bag. All I did was sleep.
It took 15 minutes to get to Faj, seeing the long queue at the tap. I felt fulfilled, I had fetched water before leaving the hostel. It pays to be smart; just as I made to enter the room, I saw Jide coming out of the bathroom, green bucket in his hands. Same green bucket I fetched water into!
Have you ever been out to read all night, only to end up sleeping all through?
Comments below
Slowly, I awake. I feel so uncomfortable and I don't know why. Struggling to get my eyes to focus. I tapped my sides for my glasses, finding them in my breast pocket. I'm in HSLT A; "For how long?". My phone says the time is 6:00am, I don't believe. " Bros wetin be time, abeg?". "6", the guy beside me replied. It means I've slept for all four hours I've been out. Class is by 8, my mental alarm ticks me and I pack my stuff to leave. Another unproductive reading expenditure. Moving out of the room, the girl I scoped when I arrived looked at me with a mixture of pity and contempt. I know, I deserve it. I didn't even open my bag. All I did was sleep.
It took 15 minutes to get to Faj, seeing the long queue at the tap. I felt fulfilled, I had fetched water before leaving the hostel. It pays to be smart; just as I made to enter the room, I saw Jide coming out of the bathroom, green bucket in his hands. Same green bucket I fetched water into!
Have you ever been out to read all night, only to end up sleeping all through?
Comments below
Saturday 4 March 2017
LOST
A short story below.
I heard a whisper from the shadows, It came from a tall figure. I moved closer to where the sound came from but I couldn't find him there no more, I followed the path hoping to find him and I wandered far and far away from my prior location. So now here I am lost in my "wanderland". In my state of anxiety at being lost. I take a deep breath, then I pause to think,I'm lost but not dead. Maybe if I could pay close attention to the path, I could find my way back. But wait, "Who or what brought me here?". It was an illusion, now it dawns on me. The voice was in my head and the tall figure, well that was my eyes seeing what it wanted to. Now I'm certain there's nothing for me here, so I dust my shorts, pick up myself and find my way back to my home;where my heart is
Moral of the story: Sometimes we just need to take a step away from where we have always been to see the light
How did you enjoy this story? Comment below
I heard a whisper from the shadows, It came from a tall figure. I moved closer to where the sound came from but I couldn't find him there no more, I followed the path hoping to find him and I wandered far and far away from my prior location. So now here I am lost in my "wanderland". In my state of anxiety at being lost. I take a deep breath, then I pause to think,I'm lost but not dead. Maybe if I could pay close attention to the path, I could find my way back. But wait, "Who or what brought me here?". It was an illusion, now it dawns on me. The voice was in my head and the tall figure, well that was my eyes seeing what it wanted to. Now I'm certain there's nothing for me here, so I dust my shorts, pick up myself and find my way back to my home;where my heart is
Moral of the story: Sometimes we just need to take a step away from where we have always been to see the light
How did you enjoy this story? Comment below
CHAINGE
They came with a promise of change, Now it looks like they have put us in the Age of Chains.
This is a piece I wrote below on the state of the nation.
Who do you think shall spark the dying flame?
Do comment
#Otwrites.
This is a piece I wrote below on the state of the nation.
Who do you think shall spark the dying flame?
Do comment
#Otwrites.
Tuesday 28 February 2017
Abigail
The story of Abigail and Abiona. I hope you do enjoy
ABIGAIL
The lights around dimmed gradually and night fell, Abiona sat up in bed waiting for everywhere to become quiet. Certain it was safe to move out, he put on some clothes and did a "soundcheck" to know if he didn't have a bad breath, he was meeting with the love of his life, every day, he looked forward to the nights when they always had their rendezvous.
Stepping out quietly,he went into the night treading carefully on a path he now knew fully well, she'd be waiting at the river and he headed towards it. He couldn't be scared of the night creatures as he knew just where to step, it was very dark already so no human could be out by now so he didn't have to worry about that either. Soon he got closer and he felt the rush again, that feeling of anguish and despair as he set his sights on his love.
Sobbing quietly, he moved closer to her and felt her name etched on the marble "Abigail Thomas". He picked up the flowers freshly laid there and as he did all nights, He lay down on her grave remembering the times they shared.
ABIGAIL
The lights around dimmed gradually and night fell, Abiona sat up in bed waiting for everywhere to become quiet. Certain it was safe to move out, he put on some clothes and did a "soundcheck" to know if he didn't have a bad breath, he was meeting with the love of his life, every day, he looked forward to the nights when they always had their rendezvous.
Stepping out quietly,he went into the night treading carefully on a path he now knew fully well, she'd be waiting at the river and he headed towards it. He couldn't be scared of the night creatures as he knew just where to step, it was very dark already so no human could be out by now so he didn't have to worry about that either. Soon he got closer and he felt the rush again, that feeling of anguish and despair as he set his sights on his love.
Sobbing quietly, he moved closer to her and felt her name etched on the marble "Abigail Thomas". He picked up the flowers freshly laid there and as he did all nights, He lay down on her grave remembering the times they shared.
Comment below.
Saturday 25 February 2017
Ayánfe
Ayánfe is a project I'm working on. It might develop into a series or a book. This is an excerpt below
AYANFÉ
She approached him, wearing her hottest "Oleku", the one he loved best. He was waiting under the mango tree, clad in Buba, shorts and his " Abeti Aja" cap. He smiled at the gentle sway of her hips moving side to side like a pendulum, she moved as gracefully as a cat in its master's presence, body shaped like a hourglass.
Ayanfé threw herself into Ogunjimi's arms and he hugged her like his life depended on it. They looked into each other's eyes, understanding everything left unspoken. It was inevitable what was about to happen. "Ogunjimi mo tí n ló, I've to go" she said. He took his hands off her waist then, and said "Days will pass, years will turn to decades, but my love for you will forever be fresh like water leaf which grows beside a tap"
They shared a kiss,gentle yet breathtaking, putting all emotions into it as they knew it could be their last. Ayanfé broke the kiss and left without looking back, on her way to the king's palace, where she'd be the latest bride which the despot took for himself.
AYANFÉ
She approached him, wearing her hottest "Oleku", the one he loved best. He was waiting under the mango tree, clad in Buba, shorts and his " Abeti Aja" cap. He smiled at the gentle sway of her hips moving side to side like a pendulum, she moved as gracefully as a cat in its master's presence, body shaped like a hourglass.
Ayanfé threw herself into Ogunjimi's arms and he hugged her like his life depended on it. They looked into each other's eyes, understanding everything left unspoken. It was inevitable what was about to happen. "Ogunjimi mo tí n ló, I've to go" she said. He took his hands off her waist then, and said "Days will pass, years will turn to decades, but my love for you will forever be fresh like water leaf which grows beside a tap"
They shared a kiss,gentle yet breathtaking, putting all emotions into it as they knew it could be their last. Ayanfé broke the kiss and left without looking back, on her way to the king's palace, where she'd be the latest bride which the despot took for himself.
Moist
Have you ever wondered how the rain comes? I do every time I watch the rain.
I wrote this piece watching the rain.
MOIST
I smelt it first, that unexplainable aura that seems to be moist soil. I wonder why it smells that way, maybe a special spray is sent down from the heavens just before the downpour. The first drops fell and it was like sprinkles from a shower tap just after you close it. Then it came in full in force. Rain.
I didn't run for cover, I just stood there looking into the skies, perhaps hoping to see where the plug was pulled or if it's an angel pouring it from a bucket; anything just to explain this phenomenon. I get tired of this and I try to get a mouthful of water, I tried for ten minutes without success, I'm baffled then as to how buckets get filled;I might just be a little jealous of those objects.
In the distance, I spot the leaves of a corn plant glistening "green" like a newly washed half of a Nigerian flag. I feel lucky for it, the rain is food.
It then comes, just at that moment, the best part of it for me;the sun peeping from behind the clouds like a student seeking permission from his principal. Somewhat reluctantly it finally comes out fully and I feel that ecstasy; Sunshine after the storm, Light after dark, now I'm sure everything is gonna be okay.
Suddenly I feel numb all over, OMG!, I'm soaking wet, funny how I got lost in the moment, I stare at the skies, it's clear now and patterns are forming. I see the rainbow shaped in the pattern of a flannel shirt. I guess the creator knows my favourite things and he made this rain just for me.
I wrote this piece watching the rain.
MOIST
I smelt it first, that unexplainable aura that seems to be moist soil. I wonder why it smells that way, maybe a special spray is sent down from the heavens just before the downpour. The first drops fell and it was like sprinkles from a shower tap just after you close it. Then it came in full in force. Rain.
I didn't run for cover, I just stood there looking into the skies, perhaps hoping to see where the plug was pulled or if it's an angel pouring it from a bucket; anything just to explain this phenomenon. I get tired of this and I try to get a mouthful of water, I tried for ten minutes without success, I'm baffled then as to how buckets get filled;I might just be a little jealous of those objects.
In the distance, I spot the leaves of a corn plant glistening "green" like a newly washed half of a Nigerian flag. I feel lucky for it, the rain is food.
It then comes, just at that moment, the best part of it for me;the sun peeping from behind the clouds like a student seeking permission from his principal. Somewhat reluctantly it finally comes out fully and I feel that ecstasy; Sunshine after the storm, Light after dark, now I'm sure everything is gonna be okay.
Suddenly I feel numb all over, OMG!, I'm soaking wet, funny how I got lost in the moment, I stare at the skies, it's clear now and patterns are forming. I see the rainbow shaped in the pattern of a flannel shirt. I guess the creator knows my favourite things and he made this rain just for me.
Chance
This is a short story about a typical Lagos girl. I hope you enjoy.
CHANCE
Damilola frowns at her work, "It's such a mess", she crumbles it and throws it to the floor. " I'll start on something better tomorrow", she thinks to herself. She walks out into the street and strolls home making sure, she locked the door of the studio behind her. Tomorrow is gonna be better.
"Traffic is thick", she observes. Getting a bus now will be very difficult, her "Lagos girl" spirit gats take over now o, fine girl no go do anything." Thirty minutes goes by, and shouts of "Ikeja Along, Ikeja Along" alerts her, moving closer, she squeezes and "squazzues" herself into the bus; "Of what use is her small frame, if she can't get in amidst these people?".
Getting into the bus, she tries to get as comfortable as possible, and the bus takes off " Lagos wahala na die". In order to get her mind off the discomfort, she begins making mental notes about the next day. "I need to work on the drawing Mrs Ara contacted me to make, need to get more charcoal pencils and a fresh canvas", she thought. She feels a gentle touch, thinking to be just bodies brushing each other, she decided to ignore. Again, that touch and she looks up now. Well; her heart stopped momentarily at that moment. She saw a guy with teeth turned brown with tobacco and eyes as red as the light on an MTN mast. Opening her mouth to ask what he wanted, she felt another touch.
Her heart stopped this time too, but for all the right reasons, the touch came from a good looking guy, tho his hair was little bushy, it added an adventurous dimension to his clean-sheltered boy look. " Please you're crushing my knees " Mr Clean- Sheltered said. Damilola came back to the present. She had been resting her elbow on his knee. Taking off softly, she apologises and he politely introduced himself. Segun Daniels.
They converse shortly about the traffic and she somehow gets to see his wallpaper. An album art of Jon Bellion;also rearing its head from the open bag on his lap is "The Godfather" by Mario Puzo. A guy that reads Mario Puzo and listens to Bellion definitely is her speck. In a bid to know more, she talks about her two observations and Daniels goes on and on about Don Corleone's character. It's done.
Damilola relishes the knowledge that she has a new canvas to work on. One that doubles as a pumping device. She'd draw beautiful butterflies and etch them deep into his heart. It's not certain whether it'd be a beautiful drawing or poor but she definitely would give it a try. "I really should come back to reality, a chance meeting doesn't always end in happy ever after" she thinks. At Ogba bus stop, she drops from the bus, waves to Daniels, never to see him again.
For Gigi
Drop your comments
CHANCE
Damilola frowns at her work, "It's such a mess", she crumbles it and throws it to the floor. " I'll start on something better tomorrow", she thinks to herself. She walks out into the street and strolls home making sure, she locked the door of the studio behind her. Tomorrow is gonna be better.
"Traffic is thick", she observes. Getting a bus now will be very difficult, her "Lagos girl" spirit gats take over now o, fine girl no go do anything." Thirty minutes goes by, and shouts of "Ikeja Along, Ikeja Along" alerts her, moving closer, she squeezes and "squazzues" herself into the bus; "Of what use is her small frame, if she can't get in amidst these people?".
Getting into the bus, she tries to get as comfortable as possible, and the bus takes off " Lagos wahala na die". In order to get her mind off the discomfort, she begins making mental notes about the next day. "I need to work on the drawing Mrs Ara contacted me to make, need to get more charcoal pencils and a fresh canvas", she thought. She feels a gentle touch, thinking to be just bodies brushing each other, she decided to ignore. Again, that touch and she looks up now. Well; her heart stopped momentarily at that moment. She saw a guy with teeth turned brown with tobacco and eyes as red as the light on an MTN mast. Opening her mouth to ask what he wanted, she felt another touch.
Her heart stopped this time too, but for all the right reasons, the touch came from a good looking guy, tho his hair was little bushy, it added an adventurous dimension to his clean-sheltered boy look. " Please you're crushing my knees " Mr Clean- Sheltered said. Damilola came back to the present. She had been resting her elbow on his knee. Taking off softly, she apologises and he politely introduced himself. Segun Daniels.
They converse shortly about the traffic and she somehow gets to see his wallpaper. An album art of Jon Bellion;also rearing its head from the open bag on his lap is "The Godfather" by Mario Puzo. A guy that reads Mario Puzo and listens to Bellion definitely is her speck. In a bid to know more, she talks about her two observations and Daniels goes on and on about Don Corleone's character. It's done.
Damilola relishes the knowledge that she has a new canvas to work on. One that doubles as a pumping device. She'd draw beautiful butterflies and etch them deep into his heart. It's not certain whether it'd be a beautiful drawing or poor but she definitely would give it a try. "I really should come back to reality, a chance meeting doesn't always end in happy ever after" she thinks. At Ogba bus stop, she drops from the bus, waves to Daniels, never to see him again.
For Gigi
Drop your comments
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