03/10/2012

Doubts and worries
convolutions of our inner self
times of firm, strong decisions
moments of weakness and fear
dark times, turbulent times
struggling with chisels and screws
to chip away the brawn
and expose the beauty
delicate moments
definite times
uncertainties
convolutions only us understand
those which only we are equipped to unravel

H is getting Married

In as much as most of the posts on this blog are fictional or made fictional, I want to take a moment to acknowledge one of the most distinct women I have ever met.
No, she not another author I would like you to read her words, a poet I want you to listen to or a musician giving me nostalgia. She is an incredible mind who should be listened to, one whose words have entertained, enlightened and encouraged me in years that feel like days ago. Our coincidental meeting in the most unlikely of places only solidifies the most likely friendship.

Well time has past and H is getting married .... I have discussed love and its arbitrary meaning with H, I have discussed companionship and its necessity, politics and its confusion. She managed to overcome the barriers that seemed so great and made them plain as though they were never there.

So in a bid to remember these times of clarity and immortalise them on the pages of the internets seeing as we have made use of it for rants and drama more than words can explain it only made sense.

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Lol...Oyin, I slept at the computer yesterday trying to connect to the internet in order to complete my mail to you but alas...man plans..Anyways, it feels good knowing that I am back for good...I am loving the responsibilities being given to me, I don't know how to put it in words but I feel much more significant here than I felt in the UK.
Cnt give you details now as I have to get dressed so I can sort out details for my NYSC with my Mum, but will holla later. Tc of you and have an awesome day xxx

:)

This monster

I must retreat
Battles are not won
with screams and gore
My shouts and thunder stomps are but
weakling and feeble throws
This monster, this towering enemy
holding me bound
I must retreat

A Yoruba adage says that a child does not seek to avenge his fathers death if he does not hold the sword in his hands ( or words to that effect) I am coming to learn that I must pick my battles. As yet there are many that I cannot 'win' because for time and for resources, for wisdom and for patience I do not hold the sword with which to 'avenge my father's death'. So I must retreat not to give up but to wait, grow and ascend to that time, that moment when I will be the elephant and this beast is the ant I can crush with one majestic walk.

Mo sin meye bo lapo .....

.... I Look like - Kai Davis

Stereotypes

Education

Social prejudice 

Independence 

I must have watch this video about 20 times already and every time, I just want to click and listen again and again ..... listen and learn 

there's a lot of swearing and unapologetic at that but I love this piece 

Peace and Love 

:)

When words Fail you, try your fist .....

Ever had that moment where people just don't understand what your are trying to say, either by virtue of your choice of words or just by their gross ability to process simple coherent sentences.

Am gonna say most of the time people are just too self loving to listen carefully when others speak and frankly I just want to punch these people straight up and break their noses or at least cause some form of physical damage so that they can snap out of their stupidity; unless they are already past the curable state and then alas even my fist cannot save them.

I have come quite close to punching people recently and restrain has not been easy in fact I ended up dreaming that I beat the crap out of one person in particular and then I thought, this isn't healthy. Its time to act and get this out of my system. To be forewarned is to be forearmed; If I end up giving someone a black eye its not my fault am just preventing a far worse rage if I don't let it out now .

There are no stars in this Sky

In that moment

I felt the need to hug you more,

Hold you more

I felt the need to make you smile,

Make you laugh 

When I held you, my hands quivered

When I hugged you, I trembled

In that moment

You became a shadow

 Evasive, elusive; here, yet there

Slowly slipping

I knew, knew the need

To hold you more, hug you more

Once the stars were bright 

When you held me 

 Hugged me 

When you made me smile 

 Made me laugh

I have ceased to look up

Gazing only fools me

There are no stars in this sky 

Untitled

Here ye! Here ye! I have been left in charge of this mind and will stand in court of law. 

You know those times when your mind tries to take over your well built reputation? They say pretense is hard to keep up but it seems like my behavior (for lack of a better word) has a mind of its own around different people.

I come out with certain character traits around certain people that surprises me. Often, oh so very often it is a case if foot in mouth disease, am saying these things and thinking in my head "shut up, shut up why the hell are you saying that???"  but does my mouth listen oh no no no it doesnt it defiles me as if to say "this party has stated and there is no stopping until the day breaks".

On the other hand, dear lord, I become the most uninteresting bore there could be with nothing to say and am telling my brain "you read a 500 page book in three days you have something interesting to say ....speak now. speak now" but does it listen to me? definetly not! Boy, could I continue with these ridiculous situations I get myself into. You are thinking whatever we all have that problem but wait, I 'll get to it

When the different groups of people now come together in one, my brain decides; muhahaaha you are going to be a compltely different person here too. It doesnt strike a balance between all my different extremes so at least each group can see a degree of the me they know. One would have thought this would have been the easiest choice but my mind, oh my wild mind chooses to be Miss Ks. You know how the equilibrium constant K becomes a new constant Ka when K is multiplied by the concentration of water? Yea that new constant around a mix of different people is Miss Ks. The oddity that tries to be friends with everyone, that is loud and often obnoxious and supposedly having fun and once the group disperses, Miss Ks disappears and am left with the questions "you were kinda different, were you drinking last night?" and all the other explain yourself questions you can think of. I have no explanations and no capability of recreating Miss Ks but I don't think I want to recreate this character on a daily basis, it will be far too exhausting. 

I would probably need to put my mouth under lock and key every time I go out just to make sure I don't end up getting a slap these days for when Miss obnoxious decided to show her face again .....

The Visitor

I cannot say completely truthfully that I was not expecting what happened that fateful morning. It was an event I had carefully orchestrated albeit not entirely willingly. I had help .......

0600hrs and a loud continuous rage of banging on our giant gate woke up our peaceful neighbors as the dogs in the large empty compound began to bark their strange barks. My grandmother woke up, picked up her walking stick placing one foot after the other. She struggled her way to the gate and at the same time screamed curses at the wretched soul that thought it wise to disturb an old woman's sleep at that odd hour of the morning. 

As she opened the gate, she let out a silent scream that pierced my heart. I watched her face and countenance as I peeped from the windows, my little brother stretching as much as he could to catch a glimpse of the morning drama. Mama swung the gate with what seemed like all her strength and shut it in the visitor's face. The action took a told on her; she immediately bent down grabbing her knees and breathing as much as her asthma could let her. I wondered if our curiosity would push our grandmother in to the grave she was already tip toeing around 

When she finally caught her breath, mama shouted our names at the expense of her fading lungs coughing eerily at the end of the long noise. The dogs barked again echoing the turmoil in the atmosphere. Simultaneously, there was a faint knock, three times it came, as if a ritual was being performed. We raced to mama almost pissing ourselves with fear. Once she saw us, mama began a monotonous rant ....

"tell that waste of a woman"

"that wretched woman" she stammered 

 "to leave this place" 

"listen children"

"tell her, before, before I sin to my Lord and kill her"  

I and my fretting little brother walked synchronously to the gate, opening it as slowly as we could. We repeated to the woman "please, leave before mama kills you, thank you" even in dire times mama could have smacked us silly if we ever forgot our manners! 

The woman stared at us, with eyes red as thought she had been punished with chilli peppers. She walked away without a word not even looking back. I felt my brother calling to her with sobbing wimps. We shut the gate. 

" You know I know I only do what's best for you. You children are my treasure" she said with tearfully holding us in her arms. My brother and I went into our room telling ourselves how much mama meant to us but secretly and silently, with our eyes we told each other how we yearned for out mother's embrace.

The Lion Refused to Speak

I found Maya recently through, facebook , I am already a lover of the concious mind and poetry with so much passion just blows my mind .......... 

Maya here talks about telling our own story, the age old debate of many African intellectuals from Achebe to Thiong'o. I hope this inspires and enlightens just like I was by Soyinka and Aidoo

Let the Lion Speak