Stoty-time 2

Two stories and a film.

Young man walks in, can’t be a day above 23 even though his eyes tell of stories decades older than him.

It’s a little after 8am and he’s the second person to walk in. The first is an earnest, handsome man in his 30s who doesn’t read the signs on the doors and makes two mistakes.

He’s good natured about them and has a truly beautiful smile. He keeps smiling and laughing and trying to make conversation as he gets his item. I do not smile back, I have a feeling he’s trying to avoid going to work early and I will not be used as an excuse. I’m already at work 🙄

Continue reading →

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. Continue reading →

Like Woman, Like God.

Like Woman, Like God.


“I’ll make you feel like a woman” is a promise that makes you roll your eyes, always. What feeling is this ‘woman’? You ask yourself every time and when you wear your clothes in the morning, you wonder if this huffing and puffing is what it is to be woman and if it was, how was it a thing to be wanted?


But he had made no promises, not even of pleasure.


Yet he touched you from the start as if you were a prayer and sin and atonement, reverently went for the centre and squeezed. You wanted to complain, to give one of the hundred excuses your tongue keeps in its sac but your tongue betrayed you. The little fucker lay still. The lights from the bridges and houses on the opposite shore danced in your eyes, the lagoon seemed to swell beneath the balcony you lay on, your blood hummed passion’s siren.


And you turned to him, your body complicit in this saga of betrayal and suspense while your mind wept. He slipped his hand into the top of your gown, cradling your left breast and your mind wiped its eyes and watched. He took you on a journey that evening, a road you had travelled a hundred times before but he stopped to show you the sunflowers hidden on that path you raced through without thinking, then he showed you the mimosa that curled spectacularly as he touched it and you gasped- it had been there all along? As he called you beautiful, you didn’t murmur an objection, you revelled in it- your beauty.


But it was in the morning he showed you what it was to be woman, as he touched you and looked at you with eyes aflame with something you must have ignited. How did I do that? you wondered and smiled. And then you touched him, he writhed and whispered and you felt the buzz of lightning in your palm.


Glory, Glory, Halleluiah
You felt like a god, glorious and wanton as he moaned atop you, beneath you and behind you. With each sound he made, you shone even brighter, until you were so full of light that you exploded again and again and again and again.


You couldn’t stop smiling, not even after you were both dosing off entwined in each other’s bodies. Why are you smiling? he asked as he smiled too. You want to tell him how you never thought it would be him who would make you feel like you were fire and honey and electricity fused in vodka guzzling, egwusi hating brown skin. Or how you never thought of lovemaking as a glorious thing- only pleasure of the mundane kind. How could you begin to tell him that making love to him felt like worship, and for the first time ever, you were a god?


Then you remembered why man fell, God’s fear that Eve too would become like him. You wondered if that fear hadn’t come a little too late for God, and for you.

Continue reading →

Month O’ love : Just the two of us

  This month its all about love songs on the blog. I was inspired to do this for two reasons, my cousin’s dope boyfriend who surmounted her formidable walls one love song at a time and my wonderful brothers who do not seem to have a romantic cell in their bodies.

Last year I had a conversation with my then twenty year old youngest brother and we were talking about relationships and I asked him about a particular girl he was close to and he mumbled that she wanted more than he was willing to give. My brothers and I have a pretty open relationship, and we talk about anything. It turns out that she wanted their relationship to be sexual, this girl was probably eighteen or nineteen at the time and she already felt that if my brother loved her then they should have sex.

Do I blame her? The world she finds herself tells her that if a man loves her, he’d desire her body and sexual intercourse is the pinnacle of love. Sadly that isn’t true, sex can be an expression of love but it isn’t a form of love and it doesn’t mean that love isn’t involved. If it did, then prostitutes and gigolos would be the greatest lovers innit?

The love songs she listens to tell her “he’ll love her booty and her luscious body”, the magazines she reads tell her “twenty ways to keep your man” and the first point is give him all the sex he wants. And the movies? Let’s not even go there! In a way, I’m doing this for her, featuring love songs that have nothing to do with sex. Love (romantic) can be beautiful without sex, in fact sex can be a distraction. If she chooses to have sex, then she should do it because she wants to explore her sexuality and not because she wants love. Besides at that age she should be more involved in getting the best education possible and thinking of how to set the world on fire rather than how to lure Adaeze’s baby brother into fornication. I understand the hormonal surges that come with being a teenager, I’m not being judgmental of her and her feelings, I just feel sad that she doesn’t know she has options.

Today’s song won the 1981 Grammy award for best R&B song and is a classic even today… thirty five years later.

Bill Withers – Just The Two Of Us

I see the crystal raindrops fall
And the beauty of it all
Is when the sun comes shining through
To make those rainbows in my mind
When I think of you sometime
And I want to spend some time with you

Just the two of us
We can make it if we try
Just the two of us
Just the two of us
Building castles in the sky
Just the two of us
You and I

We look for love no time for tears
Wasted water’s all that is
And it don’t make no flowers grow
Good things might come to those who wait
Not for those who wait too late
We gotta go for all we know

I hear the crystal raindrops fall
On the window down the hall
And it becomes the morning dew
And darling when the morning comes
And I see the morning sun
I want to be the one with you.

May the force be with you…