Month: October 2010

Nigeria at 50 – Day 17; I’m Done Bitching!

Nigeria at 50 – Day 16, Nutty J

this isn’t poetry, but it was easier to write it this way…

It’s hard to love someone who is broken, but sometimes
You love them in spite of the cracks, and you hope
That your love will nurse them, mould them back into wholeness…

It hurts to love someone who don’t love you…
I know you don’t love me right now,
I know you don’t care for my needs no more,
But I love you, in hope of a re-awakening…

Last night at the estate gate, the security man asked for the gate pass,
Then he asked for the Nigerian gate pass…
That’s what the Motherland has become;
Poster child for all things crooked.

It’s hard to love someone who is selfish,
It’s a hundred and sixty million babies screaming
For candy. Me! Me! Me! Me!
What the fuck happened to US?

It’s hard to love someone who don’t love themself,
It’s Jesus and a miracle,
It’s òpèlè Ifá divining my path,
It’s a desperate belief that t’ení bégi lójù, igi á rúwé*.

T’ení bégi lójù, igi á rúwé is a Yoruba proverb meaning whoever cuts a tree suffers himself needlessly because the tree will rise again. It’s what I believe for this Country; that the impostors who call themselves our leaders might think they are hurting us now, (and indeed they are) but in the end Nigeria will rise to the height it should. So let’s all stop bitching and get off our high horses and do something, anything, from voting in the coming elections, to always following due process in the things we do…

Nigeria at 50 – Day 18, Aribaba

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Memories Are Made of These…

This post is mostly a tribute to You

It’s been a see saw all year like I said . Some of the most awesome moments I had this year were thanks to you, us…
All them outings –every time we went out- how much fun and laughter it was. The silly things we’d do, you’d do;
Like how we can’t watch a movie together without throwing popcorn at the people in front or doing equally nasty stuff like you putting your feet on the empty seat in front, just to get the ‘look’ from whoever was sitting next to it.
Jeez, or how I can’t walk into ‘normal’ MedPlus at the Palms without smiling coz I remember ‘that night’ while also praying they don’t remember us.
Ha, your trips into the country these year were some of my best time 😀 going out, or hanging out… or just knowing you were just a cab or a bike away…
Remember that day, when one of us did something and how it put me in a panic, and I cried and begged you to come, and you came, and it was such an awesome night. Not because of anything but just because…
Gosh, and going to that awful market with you, and sitting on your kitchen cabinet dangling my feet, giving you ‘moral support’ every time because you pamper me and cook for me when I’m around. Gosh but that morning you wouldn’t cook for me because I was disturbing your sleep, and then I couldn’t find the knife to cut the yam…I wanted so badly to find the knife and cut you 😛
That trip we took in April, was it? to that club, and how we spent all night looking at each other and smiling and whispering. Lmao. Its no wonder we never went another time.
Or just competing to see who can slide farthest using the tiles at The Palms…
And talking, about anything, and everything…
I love our conversations, and the silence. Gosh I love the silence, when I don’t have to say anything, and neither do you, and it’s not awkward even if you, erm one of us is moody.

Oh, and I love wearing your tee-shirts to sleep 😀
And everyday, everyday, talking to you, chatting with you, tweeting @you… you keeping me sane.
Remember the time in July we fought, and didn’t talk to each other for two weeks, and when we finally did, all the screaming and crying. Lol. And then it was o.k… better than before.
And you writing my epitaph, even if all it says is “Fuck Off”. smh at u
Like you said one time “memories are made of these…”
then the other things outside of you…
like the workshop, and just spending 10 days with the other participants. Writing. Talking writing. Bliss.
The little unexpected things, like Chimamanda reading a story I wrote as a lunch break exercise at BookJam in May. Gosh!

Or having the then editor of Elan call me up and ask me to model for an edition even with me insisting I couldn’t do it and it turning out to be so gorgeous my mom stole my copy, even though she went on about the dress with the open back 
and having writing pay, and not badly too…
P.S you should know I tried to find a way to put ‘conversate’ in this post but I just couldn’t 😉
P.P.S hope you could find yourself