September.

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.

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Where Is Your God?

This morning I got Isaiah Chapter 36 as part of my scripture reading for today and I had to go on to read the next chapter, the story was that engaging. I knew about the story of the Assyrians and how an angel slew 185,000 fighting men in one night. I also knew there had been letters mocking God that King Hezekiah spread before the altar of God for him to read. I remember that image from My Book Of Bible Stories or was it Uncle Arthur’s Bible Stories? 2 Kings 18 tells the story from the beginning.

Pure Bliss

Growing up in Lagos, there is a certain tune that will forever be linked to ice cream in my mind, ice cream and nescafe. It’s a latin pop tune that makes you want to dance even when your feet are iroko roots in centuries old mud.

Husband Wanted – 2

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.

Strong Thing

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.

OBIAJULU.

Obiajulu.

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.

What doesn’t kill you…

I was chatting with a very dear friend about being in Benin-city and living here instead of that congested Lagos and I told him about working here for a while before sneaking out at dawn back to Lagos to another job. As I recounted the experience to Odogwu, I realized how much I had forgotten about the turbulence of that time.