When I tear, its not patched, its not stiched....Its broken...Looking for a way to fly, back into the sky, soaring high again, where I belong.

Sunday, December 19, 2010


This was the day I lost my dad. He was 52.

Its almost a month now.He had a heart attack. He had just recovered from stroke. I came home for the sallah break and spent a week. A day or so after I came home, I and my dad drove from ikeja to surulere 4 service. I was really impressed cus the stroke affected his left hand and his recovery was so beautiful. On our way back, just before the stadium, he started complaining of severe chest pains. I was feeding him lucozade while he was driving, encouraging him to just get us home so he can rest. At a point, d pain was so intense that I offered to drive with his instructions despite d fact that I have never driven a car.

We made it home and the pain continued, he said it wasn't his heart but his chest so I attributed it to his physiotherapy exercises. My mum gave him aspirin and other pain relievers, after a few minutes the pain was relieved. This haooened three more times in thay week and d same medication was given. I fell very ill, went the hospital with him, so he used that opportunity to do a chest xray and was referred to a cardiologist with an appontment fixed for d following day. I had injections too, so on friday morning we agreed to go together so I won't waste money on cab. He came late in the afternoon, past his appointment time of 1200pm. My mum begged him to go but he refused saying he didn't feel strong enough and that the cardiologist must have gone.

On reaching d hospital, we met d cardiologist waiting and scheduled another appointment for monday. I was to return to school on sunday morning. By 5am, he woke us up complaining of chest pain, that the pain woke him up. As usual, we gave him d normal pain meds. I kept asking him he was feelin better and he said d pain wasn't sub siding. I was slightly irritated that he woke me that early when he knows its just d pain meds and he'll be alright. I was drifting in and out of sleep. He started shouting that he doesn't want to die, this got me really angry because I was just like this is the normal chest pain, just calm down and let the medicine work. He then told me and my mum to pray for him, that our prayers always help. - laid my hand on his chest, then my mum followed. I prayed for God to relieve him of d pain,I guuess he did.

Immediately my mum said 'amen', his eyes rolled back and he started stiffening his hands. We convinced ourselves that it was a coma because I swear! I could still feel a heartbeat. It took some 15mins before neighbours came to carry him to d clinic in the estate. My dad was quite tall and huge so it was hard for them. They pronounced him dead at d clinic, since it was just a clinic we wanted a second opinion from a better clinic. The ambulance from our hospital in ikoyi came shortly after we took him to d clinic. On getting to Ikoyi, we were told d same thing. Reality hit me and my legs couldn't hold me up, I just couldn't believe it.It wasn't his chest afterall. This is sum1 that lay at my feet the day before while I was typing a letter for him,we shared my food, we gossiped about my mum and made plans. Sometimes I pray I wake up from a bad dream, but this dream is way too long.

I have been through different emotions and reasoning. In all I have learnt to Thank God even when I don't know what I'm thanking him for. It was a week to exams, so I just had to put myself together and write my exams. Sometimes I get so overwhelmed that I scream without a sound. My only hope is that the dead in christ shall rise on the last day......

Friday, September 24, 2010

Back to School

Its sabbath morning, I'm obviously not going for service 'cos I've been up since forever. Been in school for a week now, missing home badly. My dad is doing so much better (Thank God for that), I'm so glad I can have rest of mind at last!

On school, guess what??? I'm in my final year!!!!!!

I'm pretty excited 'cos this school is just getting worse daily. Settled into my room with new roommates. They're sisters but before I came I heard gist that they're so dirty that they take their used sanitary pads home. I decided to try my luck because the rest of the hall was full, four days after, I'm changing halls. These children would wear their clothes and dump it on the table! Table!!! Their chair is a living wardrobe, the room has a smell and they soak plates and clothes for days! All the while I've been here they never lifted their finger to do a thing. At this my old age, I'll now be cleaning room for my juniors...Lol..I dont know if the sanitary pad stuff was true though. Didn't hang around long enough.

Everybody has a Blackberry and they just won't let anyone rest, even those with 1985 BB. I think its rude for someone to ask for your BB pin without asking if you have a BB first.

Meanwhile, my B'day is coming o! I really want to do something new. I've never left school without going home and I plan to break the jinx. I have an image of me going out & having a real good time, its even on a weekend sef. I just don't want to graduate without doing that. Hopefully,I'll have plan soon...Watch this space :)

P.S: Thanks guys for your kind words and prayers. It worked! Love u!

Wednesday, September 8, 2010


I have never cried so much in this past week or entered into fleeting stages of depression. I want to believe that there is a rainbow at the end of this tunnel but my word!, its so hard.

My dad had a stroke last week which affected his left hand, he cant grip anything with it but can move it slightly though. It was so sad to watch because my dad transformed into a different person. A more lovable dad, a dad I thought i had lost with my childhood. Its so sad that it had to be this to bring that out in him. He started adding "babe" after my name, taking to me about stuff other than business (wow!), joking with us (he never did this before)talking about a will (scary stuff), I've seen him cry one too many times in these past days. Gosh! I'm crying and typing... My mum on the other hand has to be so strong, taking a bath for him, attending to his needs and volatile moods...sometimes I help her dress him up. Its amazing (for lack of a better word) how my life has turned upside down in a matter of days.

My dad is a very generous person . He's the kind of person that will take his children's school fees to help someone else. This has taught him to stop favoring outsiders over his own family because I can count, on one hand, the people, that have stood by my family in this time. Could this be for him to learn his lesson because I know he never has in the past.

Lord, whatever reason this is for, I just want it to pass. Please....

I just want him to be well, I just want us to be over this, I just want to go back to school soon and start my final year. I just want to be happy. I'm doing his post because I want to look back at it someday and smile.

Wednesday, August 25, 2010

Revenge - A short story

She let the brown sugar ants dance around her arm and the pesky flies, drone around her ankle. It wasn't because she didn't care, their movements just reminded her of her very own existence. Her eyes were fixed on nothing, but she was staring, staring right into her soul. She heard the squeaky swing of the oil-thirsty door and forced her head up. The doctor took the empty seat beside her. His face was without emotion, she couldn't tell if it was good or bad news. She felt a lump in her throat, she reached towards it as if to melt it away.

"She won't walk again" He said in his clinical voice.

She analysed his voice. It was white, colour white. She looked into his eyes, they were black and distant. She took in the nauseous smell of antiseptic surrounding his entire being. Then she laughed. She threw her head back and let out a loud howl, it sounded like something from the belly of a werewolf. She laughed till she cried, then she started crying. Loud heavy sobs, then child-like whimpers.

Dumbfounded, he held her hand. He asked her if she wanted to see her, she said No.

As a trained nurse, the doctor had only confirmed what she feared. She lifted herself off the chair, disturbing the party of flies, and she walked towards her car. She walked with a limp and her frame appeared lopsided.

The driver as usual, had left the car. She stood and waited patiently for him to return. He did.

"Where are we going mah?" the driver asked
"Where did we come from?" She asked

Sitting in the backseat, she cried silently. She let the tears flow freely, not bothering to wipe them. They flowed to her nostrils, mixed with catarrh and made their way to her chin; like a river without boundaries. She cried for Toni. Toni, her baby.Toni, her only child. She cried for the 7 other children she had lost before her womb said goodbye. She cried for their lives that were reduced to blood . She cried for her family. She cried for her husband, because he was about to die.

Bimpe met Femi at her graduation party hosted for her by her elite parents. He was too old for her, she knew it. She was 23, he was 43. A typical money-bag politician; not the type with pot-belly and flabby muscles though. No, he was physically fit. She never fell in love with him, she never liked him. "He would grow on you", they said. He never did. She played the role of a perfect wife, hosting premium functions and fund-raising events but all was not picture perfect. In the night, he beat her too sleep. In the morning, he woke her with punches. Half of her dentition wasn't hers.He just had to be the Nigerian Rocky Balboa.

She lost 3 pregnancies before Toni and 4 after her. She didn't think he'd ever come after Toni, he treated he like an angel. She was satisfied if this meant that she was the only punching bag in the family. Then Toni stayed out late one night, 30 minutes after her curfew. He locked her in the room and beat Toni to a pulp. She screamed all night long to block out Toni's screams. The beatings continued after then.

He never even had the decency to take them to the elite hospitals on the Island. No, he had his reputation to protect. He hired the services of a medium-scale hospital in the slums of Oshodi, Lagos. They were regular patients there.

"Welcome mah" the MaiGuard greeted
She was home.
"Where Toni mah?" He inquired
She was mute.

She entered the house and ran to her bedroom. She flung herself at her bed and cried once more. It would be her last tears. She made a few phone calls, then settled back again. This time, she was smiling.

She heard the thick thud of the mahogany entrance door. He was back. They should be here by now. She tip-toed down the spiral staircase and caught a glimpse of him as he entered the toilet. He never used public toilets, even the one in his office, so the toilet was always his first point of call. She heard a loud scream, then silence. She saw them walk out.

"Good evening mah" they greeted. Two of them.
"Have you done it?" she asked
They responsed with a swift sweeping motion across their neck, she responded with a thick brown manilla envelope .
"Are you ready?" they asked
She stretched out her arm to them, the taller of them cut her in two swift strokes, carefully missing her vein.

She walked them to the door and waved to them. The guard open the gate. Then she started wailing and screaming. The guard rushed towards her, seeing her bleeding arm, he panicked.

"Madam, wetin happen?" he asked
"Those two men. They attacked Oga and they did this to me. Call the police." She replied
"Which two man. The one wey comot for here now now?"
"Yes. Call the police."

He looked at her in disbelieve, rubbing his eyes as if to clear them. Did he just see his madam wave to Oga's killers? He rubbed his eyes again, then ran off to call the police.

P.S: I wrote this a while back, thanks to google reader for getting it back. You like?

P.P.S : I was ill on sunday, kept throwing up everything I ate. I'm fine now (don't panic). :)

Preparing to go back to school and hating it. Enjoy the rest of your week everyone!

Tuesday, August 17, 2010

Single Lady

My one-month relationship is over....I thought I'd last longer. I actually wanted to make it to a year at least to break the jink. My last long-term relationship (1 year) was 3 years ago - and that one sef was" cut and sew". Make up and break up.

I don't feel sad, I didn't shed a tear (I'm usually a cry-baby)...in fact, I'm happy it's over. I wasn't in love but was looking for it. No news here, didnt find it. I knew it wouldn't lead anywhere but who's to say? It was nice have someone to call my own though.

I tell my friends that I wouldn't go into a relationship with a guy I can't get married to and I broke my own rule. I was having this same conversation with a friend and he was like, is it every relationship I enter that must lead to marriage?. Obviously not! But if the best comes to the best, I want to know that marriage can happen. I'm not going to be skipping through wedding catalogs or picking a dress, but I'd just like to know that if the best happens, there can be more than dating. I obviously will not enter into a relationship saying "let's have some fun and get it over with". If the best comes to the best....

He was a muslim (a very staunch one) and I don't see the "best coming to the best" happening for us. Apart from the fact that it goes against what I believe in, I wouldn't want to bring my children up in a home where they grow in confusion as to what to believe in.

I'm not an angel though, I have my many faults but I don't appreciate anyone using it to sing song. This, he was perfect at doing. He would string together a line of choruses about how I'm so spoilt, stubborn etc. Excuse me? If na so I bad reach, what are you doing with me? The one that really pained me was when I cooked my first stew and soup weeks back. For a first, it was really good and my entire family ate it. I shared this little piece of information with him and he started singing. How I should have learnt a long time ago, his junior brother about my age knows even more, and oh! I didnt even cook anything complicated. My father ate the food and was happy, he didnt complain and suddenly you have the right to? mscheew

Dude would always say he doesnt lie? Abeg who doesn't lie (even a tiny bitty lie? mistake lie?) and I caught him lying so so so many times.He was real ijebu too. He had money but won't want to spend, never took me out, would just come to my house sidon and use tori kill pesin.

Why am I knocking him out? Don't mind me jare, just need to make myself feel good for my own faults in it.

I was listening to Kirk Franklin's "How we used to be", and then realised I was just taking any love I could find...Not healthy....Need to go back to my drawing board - read my bible, pray everyday, fill that void within me...

My head is pounding, my bed is calling. Enjoy your week everyone

Current Listen : No Be Mistake - 9ice

Tuesday, August 10, 2010


Last semester was probably the most eventful semester in my academic life, out of the plenty thing things that could have happened to me, I ended up living with a thief. Scratch that. Day Light Robber.

My dumb school decided that two in a small room was just not punishment enough, so they added one more person. Let me introduce you to Miracle.

Yes, that's her name. Fresh from the holidays, the diploma students had resumed before us so Miracle was allocated to my room. I walked in to meet a slim, tall girl lying on the top bunk, her hair woven with rubber thread and wearing funny looking clothes. She was so nice and quiet, she helped me carry my stuff to the room.On further inquiry, I learnt she comes from a rather large/modest family and her father is a deeper life pastor. From such a name as "Miracle", I certainly was not wrong to expect a golden child with exemplary behaviour.

Soon enough, money started getting missing in my room from as little as N500 to 1000. I'd leave my wallet or bag on my table/wardrobe and take a little nap, money would disappear. At first I suspected my other roommate because it had just been discovered that she was on some ashee levels, so I'm like maybe she's stealing my money for her paroles because her money never got missing. Then one day, she complained that her N500 got missing. This was rather strange because there was a power outage in my room and it was pitch black; meaning that the thief must have been on some sort of James Bond mission or she was lying. I opted for the latter and she remained a prime suspect. lol. Soon we (I and other roomie) stopped talking but the stealing continued. It was not only money oh, indomie and drinks also included. One time, my friend kept her drink my fridge, 6 hours later it was stolen. It was embarrassing explaining that I have an invisible thief in my room - before dem think sey na me steal drink

The money that was stolen were small amounts but multiply it by 6 or 7 times and altogether I lost over N5,000. Most of these times, what was stolen was my last kobo, my only surviving means. I cried, cursed, pleaded; the thief remained. Miracle would still wear her all white and march to church every Sunday morning. Did i mention that Miracle was very hard-working? She was. She was quite scattered, but she was very dutiful in cleaning up the room. When I was still in good terms with my other roomie, she suggested that Miracle was the one stealing since we had no such problem when it was just both of us. I was like, Miracle, Never! Pastor Pikin?

The last straw that broke my back was during exams. I was flat broke for weeks, I got money from home and I was so excited. I shared this little information with Miracle and she joined me to celebrate. When I'm cooking with my friends I add miracle's mouth o, they give her their old clothes, I'm friendly to her..etc. Summary, I'm nice to her.

So, that fateful day, I had just N1,000 left in my wallet, I was alone with Miracle in the room. I took out the wallet, checked the money and returned it to my wardrobe. I left the room for a few minutes to my neighbour's room. I returned, Miracle was gone. I opened my wardrobe, checked my wallet, the money was gone. This was when it finally dawned on me that she had been Stealing and Smiling for months! My other roommate was not around that morning, so it definitely was not her.

I was mad! I went for my exam, came back and called her to the room. I confronted her, I even lied that I saw her coming out of the room. Miracle still denied. I went to report to the hall administrators, silly people didn't take me serious because the money was small. I should wait for her to steal me abi? mscheew

That was a few days to vacation, so I stopped talking to Miracle. Meanwhile she had started bubbling, she stopped weaving thread and started doing wool instead (soon lace wig go join), started rubbing lipgloss like it's going out of style, she'd spend hours (mid night call) giggling on the phone with some dude (choirmaster?) and she slim-fitted her clothes.

I'm sure she knows that she cant be my roommate this coming semester, my other roommate has graduated so it's just going to be me and 2 new people. Hopefully, I have better ones this time.

Tuesday, August 3, 2010

The Ex- Files - Fact or Fiction Anyone?

There's something about him that turns me on madly. Could it be the way our lips fit like God made them right after each other? Or the way he works his magic on me? All I know is that I find myself in ecstasy; moaning and groaning, breathing hoarsely into his ear, tugging at his hair and whispering his name. This isn't right, I know. We both have our significant others but secretly, I wonder if it feels this good with her. If he kisses her like its his dying day, if he holds her like its his last wish. We don't talk about her, I don't talk about him because when we're together the world stops for us. It really does.

We don't go that far but we do everything else in between...everything. Secretly, I wonder what it would feel like if we went all the way. I let my thought slide to my mouth. He tells me It would be painful, painful pleasure, he says.

He know my spot, he devours it; tempting and taunting my body. I still feel ecstasy, I close my eyes and let the feeling wash over me. Even when his hands have departed from my body, i let an occasional moan slip. I'm still in ecstasy.

"I've got to go now" he says
I dont want him to. He plants lingering kisses on my lips, lifts me up off the ground and then he's gone.

Minutes later, ecstasy starts escaping, slowly defying my thoughts. The moment is gone, I can see clearly now. All I feel is guilt and sorrow.

He's my Ex, that's all he should be. I know we can never be now, because what he does to her he'll do to me. He's not going to call me for days, when he does, he'll apologise profusely and ask to come over. I'll accept, denying the inevitable.

I open the door, its his face smiling down at me. Its the Ex-Files all over again.


Monday, August 2, 2010

First Rant

Sometimes, I attack my life with so much logic and calculations. Like I could predict the next step that sleazy mofo is about to take and most times, I'm hardly wrong. I have a 98.9% accuracy level.

My experiences are not useless, I should apply them each time I'm dealing with someone new. I look for even the slightest trait that I have observed in a prior individual and analyse the present one with the information in hand. Like I said, most times I'm hardly wrong.

I don't see the point of having a wealth of experience if it does not influence my present decisions and make me a better person. No, I do not walk around carrying a baggage of hurt, betrayal and pain but I am very well aware that I have carried them, thought they do not weigh me down.

I know that the guy who is too quiet and calm has some alterior motives.

The guy who is too quick (I'm talking days!) to use terms of endearment (e.g. cutie, dearie, sweetie pie), should not be trusted. He'll say it to just about every other girl, it means nothing, nada, zilch to him.

The guy who gets too touchy with me and still wants to be with me....isn't really interested in being with me

The friend who is has a dictionary of excuses...isnt really a friend

I could go on and on...I'm done giving excuses for these people whose actions have already been premeditated by my past experiences. I dont think I'm making generalizations. I am merely making selections and applying them to present situations, more often than not; they fit.

What about giving people a chance to prove themselves?

I have nothing against that but if I see a trait I have seen before,I should thank my experience for helping me and nudging me along the way

What brought about this my rant sef?

O.K! I went to this dude's house who is always trying to make a move and at the same time asking me to be his girlfriend. He is my kind of person but dude just cant keep his hands to himself. Each time I go there, he is always hard. (Don't blame me for looking, its hard not to notice the small something sticking out.) I tell myself that he can change because I kinda like him... This last time I went, I changed my mind, dude almost raped me! So I concluded that If my experience cant help me then I'm just letting it go to waste. I have seen his type before so why postpone an oncoming revelation that is staring me in the face! Unless he gets what his body is lusting after, he'll never calm down enough to get to know me. That, of course, would be the last time I step into his house because he most definitely isn't interested in my pretty face or smile, just my vagigi

I wish I could find a guy that's truly celibate. That's all I need right now.

Correct me, If I'm wrong

Current Listen - Impossible by Shontelle (Loving this song!)

Saturday, July 31, 2010

Getting a Help

We are about to get a houseboy/housegirl! Yay! I am pretty excited. So excited that I even fantasize about it. The last time we had one, I was too small to even remember. For a while now, I have been an executive house girl. Oh I look good outside, but you need to see me on the inside; scrubbing pots, pans and floors, scrubbing toilets (with my bare hands o) and bathrooms.I fantasize about me lounging and sipping cocktail while watching ekaette do all the work.

Its about time . From all the washing, my nails stopped growing because they kept on breaking, I couldn't fix my nails either because they would break with my natural nails, I couldnt even paint my nails because water would wash them away. All these is about to end ! Halleluyah!!!

On another note, I have 3 followers already (Thank u oh!). I hope I have as much as my last blog

Today is Sunday, would be going to Church. I feel disconnected from my church, its been getting very political lately and the word level does nothing for my life. I want to go to Mountain of Fire, I need serious prayers. Whether MFM or not, I just need to change my church. This will be kind of hard, seeing a its a family church and I follow my parents to church...

I'm done watching Season 6 of Desperate housewives (in 2 days).Loved it.

Food For Thought If a guy (your supposed boyfriend o) doesnt want to put up a picture (on facebook of course) where he's kissing ur cheek, does this call for concern? I mean, he does not have a problem putting up every other picture of both of us except this one. Does this call for my Sherlock Holmes hat? or I'm I just being unnecessarily petty.

Thursday, July 29, 2010

Broken Wings

I pour my love in –
Letting poetry, emotions, heart & soul fly;
Free to sing arias to the gods.
Body and voice soaring above the clouds,
Free, happy and full of light.

My lover builds walls
[of circumstance, timing, age, location, and cultural difference]
higher than my love can climb.

Breaking my heart and cracking my soul with the effort,
I float down to earth on broken wings, walking alone once again.

Years Pass.

Without warning, he comes knocking, then begging for my love once again.
The words I longed to hear, the touch I craved to feel, the vows that I needed –

Uttered now –
Imploring in hushed whispers with pleading eyes.
He asks me to fly again and to let my voice free.

He wants my love, my heart, my soul –

My voice is silent. My soul is cracked.
I walk alone, with broken wings.

My heart is in the hands of another –
But what will it be?

Arias to the gods or the sound of breaking glass?
How many cracks can one soul hold?

At least alone there is ground beneath my feet.

Sunday, July 25, 2010

Numero Uno

My First Kiss - I must have been 13. I was in SS1 and he was in SS3, he had a girlfriend. It was nothing like I thought it would be, there was saliva flying everywhere, teeth gnashing. I exaggerate, it wasn't that bad. Too much saliva though

My First Heart Break - I was 13+, he was 24. Go figure

My First Love - My first love is now my ex, I yearn for that feeling again.

My First Post - Today