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 →
I love twitter and hate it, more precisely- I hate what it does to me. I have always been a child of anger, whipping sarcasm and sass and rudeness (in my parents’ opinion, never mine) into a formidable collection of quotes and pithy sayings that people remember me by, many decades later. Years of a certain thing called home training had taken the edge and flattened my sparkly bubbles of wit and made me someone who is often described as gentle and calm and quiet by majority of the people who ‘know’ me. But on twitter, the foolishness that is unleashed on that space in 140- word spurts always makes me tear off my figurative shirt and reveal the S on my chest. Continue reading →
I do not know now where I got the impression from, that Lawanson market was the market with highest priced goods in the whole of Surulere and Idi-Araba market which is barely 500meters away was the cheapest. I think the women who own stalls in the market are more serious than those in other markets with a wider variety of goods and that is why this morning, I took my body to Lawanson to buy the plantains and vegetables I needed to make the meal my spirit had been craving for nearly a month. Continue reading →
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.
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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 →
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 →
I was bouncing down the stairs when his words froze my feet.
“Stupid idiot, ungrateful element like you”
I looked down and saw them, he was tall with a bushy afro and a yellow shirt tucked into red jeans, he reminded me of a pair of pliers, the girl holding his arm with a fear tattooed on her palm fruit yellow face was one of the most beautiful girls in all of Hall one. Continue reading →