Finding the Dream


Laying dreams on the table,
Spreading them out to shine or sparkle.
Drawing patterns with bare feet on the sands of paradise
With my mother’s voice in my head,
To tie me to shore despite the calls of the sea.
Carrying the weight of joy and freedom,
Singing as I shed the coil of twos
Dancing as I wear the sheen of threes
Wallet folds its arms
And laughs with twisted mouth
I shut my eyes and tend fragile hopes
And continue to believe
There’s something missing in these pictures.

Finding Jazzhole.

I was walking to the bus stop with my phone clasped in my left palm; John Legend’s Each day gets better keeping me company on the walk. The bus bound for Obalende stopped for me to climb in, the conductor didn’t warn me about change but there was no need, I was not carrying any heavy note that would require speaking plenty English for my change or marrying another passenger. I noticed the looks I got from two passengers, one at my back and the other in front and I realized that the song was still on and I didn’t carry my headphones with me. Feeling like I had never left Umunawiri-Ife, I bent my head and paused the song. Continue reading →

Four years… 

Writing is a jealous lover. 
During my time in university, I didn’t write much. Studying pharmacy was more exacting than writing and it was very quick with punishments, patience wasn’t part of its arsenal. 
After leaving school and beginning my internship, the stirring for writing intensified in my heart. I began to feel as if I’d go crazy without it.  
So I got a tab in August 2013 and on the 5th of September, I started this blog.  In those four years, I have grown immensely as a writer, a woman and as a productive member of society. I’ve met so many amazing individuals via this blog, I’m beyond blessed to have met them and have them my life.
Today’s been pretty terrible, with what has to be the worst bout of PCOS induced wahala and a hectic day at work. All I wanted to do was sleep. Somehow I found myself on word press and saw the notification of my anniversary  here. 

Ovaltine Memories.


The rough feel of the mass of ovaltine in my mouth finally kicked in the memories, I scooped two heaped spoons to my cup and stirred it into the hot water to get it to melt, I added milk and carried the cup to the dining table where jam and Agege bread had my name written on them


Adaeze see this! Remember it?” I looked at the ovaltine bottle my brother held, it looked familiar but it didn’t activate any memory. Continue reading →