Lyrically- Look what Love Has Done to Me

Tomorrow’s my friend’s birthday, I met him on his birthday… not physically, on WhatsApp. It was his picture that brought us together, he was posed with a toothpick in his mouth and for a reason I cannot decipher even three years later, I was so irked by it that I kept complaining to Hero who’d put up the picture. Hero was irritated by my pestering and forwarded his number for me to tell him myself.

That was the start of one of the most beautiful friendships of my life, I’d have said the most beautiful but Hero would sulk and Zagira would send a barrage of WhatsApp messages. Anyway, he’s the quickest connection I’d ever made, he almost seemed to have a brand of truth serum and got me to tell him all my secrets. 
Three years on, I count him as one of the major blessings of my life, the one who knows me better than I know me, the one who will listen to my problems at midnight when he has to leave home at 4am (if you think the hustle is crazy in Naija, you should try relocating to Illinois USA). He’s still the one who has refused to find me an American bobo 😦 I’m mega vexing for him, like all my married friends who rub marital bliss in my face but refuse to hook me up… Is it fair?

I wanted to put up “That’s what friends are for” by Dinner Warwick but I was listening to a random selection on my phone and Patty Smith’s “Look what love has done to me” came up and I knew it was the right song. Knowing and loving Christian (Baby) has changed my life. Agape love oooo he’s a married man, biko. 

 Look What Love Has Done

I woke up this morning feeling lonely

There’s so much my heart just does not understand

There were times when nothing really mattered

But now I find I care too much

There’s life in everything I touch
Look what love has done to me

I am not who I used to be

Everything is changing, now we’ll never be the same

Look at what love has done to us

Will we ever learn to trust

We’re running out of time, there’s so little time

Baby look what love has done to me

Oh, yeah
Now it’s late at night, I’m here without you

I’m trying to make my way to where you are

Can’t you see, I’ll still be here waiting

Can’t you see, our two hearts were always meant to be as one
Look at what love has done to us

When will we ever learn to trust

We’re running out of time, there’s so little time, baby

Will you look what love has done to me
I’m calling out your name, baby

Calling out, calling out, yeah, yeah, yeah
Now look at what love has done to us

When will we ever learn to trust

We’re running out of time

There’s so, so little time, baby

Oh, look what love has done

Baby look what love has done to me
Look what love has done

Done to me

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Chidi, Omalicha.

Chidi’s birthday is today, so I wrote her a tiny message on Facebook and I’m sharing it here.
We first met on the comment section of an awesome blog in 2014, we clicked so well that we moved it to WordPress where she runs an amazing blog where she dispenses smarts and horror stories for my birthday, then we moved to WhatsApp and finally Facebook, last year. Continue reading →

Nnem…

Nnem,

I have tried to write something for you here, for this birthday. The words are hiding, I guess they are ashamed because they know they are not enough to capture you.

 

When people meet you, they always comment on your beauty, even now you still turn heads and it’s always hilarious when those primary school advertisers come for you, without knowing your last child left primary school more than ten years ago.

 

When they get to know you, it is your wisdom that enthrals them, your kindness that lifts them and that quiet strength they quickly come to rely as well as those delicious meals that cause people to “book” visits as often as they can.

 

When I first met you, the day I was born, I knew you were awesome. Bringing me to this world was harder than any of Hercules’ trials, yet you did it all and have NEVER made me feel like I owed you anything, It was Daddy who told me the stories, not you, never you. But as I grew older, I realised that was just the preamble, almost inconsequential even, because you outdid that all the time.

 

Remember when I was the hot-headed teenager who knew everything? I wonder now how you navigated that era without losing your sanity or given me brain-resetting slaps on per second basis.

 

Or that time in Bida when I needed to see you so desperately and you appeared like a hallucination with apples and digestive and that hug that made life right. Or how you know the times to hold me and let me cry and the times to tell me to wash my face and hold a sword.

 

Memories buzz in my head now, chanting release slogans and humming Redemption song but a blog post is not the place to let them out. Maybe I will write a book about you, how you made me love reading before I could read, just by watching you curl up and read- I wanted to know what power the black squiggles had and if they would made me as happy as they made you. How you gave me this fierce love for music that is one of the key joys of my life as you played your eclectic collection on the cassette player and on that Toshiba video player.

 

How can I forget the stories? You would make up stories on the spot, complete stories with made up songs too. Rather than flog or slap, you’d tell a gripping story and extract a promise from the mesmerised errant child, promises I haven’t been able to break more than twenty years later.

 

Then the writing, you would write my long letters to Papa Kenneth, Papa Vincent and okuko because I was too young to even write. How did you not laugh as you wrote? Instead, you sat solemnly like I was talking about matters of national importance, and you put the words on paper. Thank you for understanding just how important that time was for me and for that patience.

Or how you could make three children each feel equally loved, the centre of your world and make them best friends. If I were half as great a mother as you, my children will be triply blessed.

Or how you stand in the gap, interceding for us. One day, I’ll tell the rapture story and how you made fears melt away just because you were there. And how each day, you show us there is a God because only that can explain you, my precious, wonderful mother.

I pray for God’s favour and grace to continue to abide with you, for his love and mercies to remain your constant companion and that your prayers always get answered. As for blessings, they are yours already, abundantly.

Iya ni wura- mother is gold. You, Onyeomachi are all the diamonds, sapphires, emeralds and rubies. Happy birthday, Nnem.

Continue reading →

Amazing at Sixty.

It had been a stressful time for him, spending four nights on the road and greeting dawn in four different cities. The most important thing he did on that tour was taking his first child to school, he couldn’t have known how hard it would be to walk to the gate while his daughter sat on the concrete slab and looked like her heart would break. For months he had told her stories about boarding school, his tales of the comfort of school were supposed to comfort her, to make the move an exciting thing. He was wrong. Continue reading →

29 things I’m grateful for.

This post was supposed to go up yesterday, the twenty-ninth day of December is one of my favourite days in the year, you see- it is the day I get to say my birthday is next tomorrow. This year has been tumultuous, the changes I have been through seem to have been too intense for one year. However I am grateful for a lot of things, maybe more than twenty-nine, maybe less but let’s start… Continue reading →