Way Forward.

Hiya,

I haven’t been taking this blog seriously this year, I wish I knew why though.

Seeds of kindness.

My parents never bought sweets for us when we were little children or even now. If you found us with a sweet in our fingers or mouth, it was definitely bought by one of our very many uncles and aunties.

Found And Lost.

I miss your name between my lips,
The lilt of it when I am happy,
The rumble when I am angry
The thin whisper when the world sits on me.

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.
Me.

Saint John one of the Virgin Islands inconstituent district of the United States Virgin Islands (USVI), an unincorporated territory of the United States. The smallest of the main US islands besides Water Island, Saint John is located about four miles east of Saint Thomas, the location of the territorys capital, Charlotte Amalie.

Stressed.

This morning I took a selfie at the gate as I was leaving for work. I was going to send it to my bestie with the caption- she does not look like the aftermath of a hurricane because this phones’s camera is on beauty mode 9. I put the phone back in the bag and hurried out of the gate.

Adieu Gentle Giant

When I was a child, I thought love was a Don Williams song.

I didn’t find it in the songs of Lionel Richie- who I adored and thought I would marry when I was old enough, more than Kenny Rogers who sang songs that twisted my little heart, more than all the other singers whose music gave my childhood shimmering colour.

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.

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.