I’m getting married in September, all three ceremonies will hold in a ten-day window and there isn’t a cell in my body that hasn’t been replaced with nervous energy, I’m so burnt out by wedding preparations that if you say ‘Wedding’ near me, I might just shoot you. Actually, I would slap you. I don’t carry a gun about.
Don’t look at me like that. Continue reading →
Continued from Husband Wanted – 1
She watched them from the window, stomach churning, as her wild heartbeat made her faintly afraid she was about to have a heart attack. If only she would be so lucky, a heart attack would get her out of this farce.
It was hard to count the number of men who turned up for this joke that had gotten far out of hand. Were there a hundred men out there? Two hundred? Three hundred Spartan warriors seeking a wife? She covered her face with her hands and exhaled. Continue reading →
She knew he was the one at her door by his whistling, it was almost romantic how he would wait until he finished the first verse of Strong Thing before he knocked and it was silly that she waited until he knocked before she opened the door. He would stand there, big eyes, shiny head from his ever zealous barber and a soft smile that always made her walk into his arms for a hug, right there on the corridor.
He was quiet, he would flop on the floor beside her mattress and ask how she was. She would recite the minutest details of her day because he liked to hear everything, and it wasn’t idle chatter to him, he remembered everything. She would rub his head as she spoke, and he chuckled intermittently. Continue reading →
There are days you will never forget.
Those days are not always the grand adventures that bring rivers of adrenaline and a pounding in your ears, echoing your rapidly beating heart. Sometimes it’s a quiet day, a peaceful morning with your belly full of food.
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This morning, I heard Collabo somewhere and I realised that I had forgotten my erstwhile favourite Nigerian song, since then I have played it back to back twenty-four times, it’s playing now as I type. It’s a song I can listen to for a whole a day without getting tired – I’ve done it several times before. Continue reading →
We hadn’t spoken in more two weeks, it worried me slightly because while we had intervals when we wouldn’t speak, this one seemed colder than all the previous gaps. We often spoke for hours, about nothing, about everything, about God and antimatter and all the things between heaven and earth. But we could not speak of Aretha Franklin.
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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. Continue reading →