Even if my heart would break.

I’ve spent a great chunk of this week perched on a chair, arranging ‘stock’ on shelves with headphones blocking out aggravation or just letting music from my fill the room as I work. Today, I chose to listen to Dave Koz and Kenny G- card carrying smooth jazz fan in da building, I was listening to Kenny G’s ‘even if my heart would break’ when I realised I wasn’t alone, I had been joined by the young man who installed the shelves days before. Continue reading →

Rome wasn’t built forever.

Ifeoma is one of my favourite facebook friends, her wit and wisdom and shiny pictures are a delight anyday. She is also a briliant writer- I’m featuring her post very soon, should have done it since but life happened. She made a post about how she accepts now that her alma mater was a glorified secondary school despite fiercely arguing about it with her father and a doting professor. Some people came to counter the post- as expected, and tried to change the focus of the narrative from the school to all government run schools in Nigeria. However, a conversation on that thread caught my eye and inspired this post.

Continue reading →

I’m Still Standing

I have missed writing for this space so darned much! These days I tend to write mostly on facebook and there’s a restraint to my writing that I do not like at all. I guess it took that for me to realise how much freedom writing here gives me, that this is the place my writing breathes and thrives and of course bubbles with richness and the essence of me. Continue reading →

Ten Years Don Waka

I was working hard at being me- unruffled in any storm of things that do not concern me, when Marian called my name.
Adaeze!” She floated into the scattered room that had me in the middle of it.
Ada is there anything I can help you with? The truck is almost ready to move and you haven’t packed anything.”
“I’m good” I tell her, a smile dancing at the corners of my eyes at the concern in her voice
“I don’t want them to say you’re the one who’s delaying the movement, you’re my friend and I don’t want them saying things about you.” Continue reading →

Live and Let Live.

I was going to write a longish post on intolerance this morning and the thrust of it was about how being Nigerian seems to be the starter pack for intolerance.

 

Nkechi Bianze- in her facebook post this morning said “intolerance is a Nigerian thing”, while I don’t think we have a monopoly of it, we have enshrined it in our daily lives, it’s probably a part of our DNA, we cannot live without it. Continue reading →

He came second.

A Facebook post reminded me of something I’d forgotten, a memory lost to time and the worries of life.

 

We were in primary four and he was my best friend in class, I talked about him all the time- my dad even teased me about him, calling me Lekan’s wife until the day I went to him as he washed his car and told him I didn’t like being called Lekan or anybody’s wife because I was too young to be married to anyone- I was just eight and a very serious child. Continue reading →