Posted in Memoirs

Abeokuta; The Underneath Of The Rock

Source: Google Images

Today has got to be the weirdest day of my life. I can think of so many weird things that have happened to me but definitely none like today.

Weird as defined by me is anything strikingly odd or unusual that I participate in. Bearing in mind that I do weird things on a normal day, so defining this as weird has to count for something, surely.

So I got up early. I was all pumped to go to church. I had ironed my clothes, laid them out and was ready. My attention was called by my sister to see the colour of the water. I went into the kitchen and lo and behold, it was dark brown. I told her to try again, same results. I told her to check other water sources in the house and it was still the same.

I thought, great, so much for going to church early. I wasted water, left the faucet running, flushed the toilet so many times just in a bid to see if it was a temporary situation. It wasn’t. This was a few minutes to eight. The clock was ticking, at full speed too.

The water was like limestone. I haven’t seen limestone before, I haven’t googled it to know how it looks like but I just know if it was to have any colour, it would be that one.

I have not seen water coming from a tap that is that colour let alone using it to do anything as intimate as having a shower. I refused. I was thinking; “no, nope, nada, not today Satan!”

I have a very sensitive skin and I thought no way am I going to use this liquid dreg to have my shower. I was just wondering where the water had passed through to get that colour.

Through the sewer perhaps; the excreta and human waste, through the dry skeletal human remains, through the drainage where everything goes including puke.

But then, a little voice in my head said, you know there are fellow Africans like yourself who will jump at the sight of water regardless of its colour, and there are those who drink this on a daily basis because that is what is obtainable for them. Be happy at least you don’t get to drink it… at least for now.

You know I have always had a sheltered life. I’ve never really been exposed to the true meaning of suffering. I was an ajebota like the people here would call me. So this is quite an interesting experience to be part of. 

After four hours of internal struggle, I proceeded to have my shower (church was already over by the way). Even as I opened the pot where I boiled some of it (the weather was a bit chilly today), I got scared at the colour. 

1:01pm. I got to the bathroom and I made of mistake of looking into the WC. I was wondering am I really going to be putting that slime on my body. I was grateful for the fact that the bucket didn’t make the water look that bad. I nearly chickened out but the desire to be “clean” won. I braved it, poured an unhealthy amount of antiseptic into the water, covered myself with the blood of Jesus even as the first drop touched my body. And voilà! The ordeal was over in 10minutes. 



Lesson learned:

One, be grateful for whatever you have and what you don’t have, manage it until you are able to get what you want.

Two, run to the market, buy a drum and fill it up with water for days like this. I have a feeling it’s going to be like this a couple of times throughout this year. 



Strange Lingua:
*Ajebota – One born with a silver spoon



Warning: The images below may contain graphic material, please close webpage and leave.








Posted in State of Mind

You Left Us (The End)

Today is the day. The final day. The day your loved ones will get to see you for the last time. 

I woke up abruptly this morning aunty at around 3am. I don’t know why I woke up. It certainly wasn’t for midnight toilet visits. I looked at my phone and the date read as twenty-first of July. It sounded familiar in my head. But I wasn’t sure what was going on today. I ransacked my brain and finally determined that today was no one’s birthday. I gave up and went back to sleep.

At about a little over 8am, I checked my phone again while at work to be sure I wasn’t missing anything. You see it was bugging my mind that I was forgetting something important. And there I saw it, the reminder for your funeral service.

I am not able to attend your funeral and I didn’t attempt to ask for permission from work. I am sure I would have gotten it. I don’t just want to let you down one last time. I feel like I have done enough. Maybe I am chicken-hearted. Maybe I am not brave. But I cannot see your husband yet. I cannot see you lying there in that cold, hard, beautifully decorated wood, dead. I cannot see your shrunken body. I cannot watch your child call out mummy during the funeral procession. I cannot hear them sing “fading away, like the stars of the morning”.

I am afraid I will let out too much tears. So I prefer to just throw myself into work.
Work was stressful today aunty. I worked like a robot just to keep my mind occupied. I worked until my body started aching me. I feel nauseous and feverish and still it didn’t work. I closed at 5:15pm only to get back to the thoughts I thought I had escaped from.

Has it only been a month and three weeks since your passing? I still feel it you know, like it was last week. Time and time again my mind flashes back. Wondering how your son is doing? Wondering how your husband is doing? Oh aunty, you are so selfish! You couldn’t just hold on a bit? I know you were in so much pain but really couldn’t you just hold on? Do you have any idea what your husband looks like now? I fear he might follow suit. It was only six years of marriage of which the past one year was a nightmare. He loved you. I know he did. I mean who will not love you. 

I’m sorry aunty. I didn’t mean to shout at you. I’m transferring aggression now, yeah. 
Your desk at father’s office; it was empty the last time I went there. Please come back and sit there. I miss you. I miss hearing your voice. I miss your smile. I miss the brown coat you always wore. When I am passing by your house, I wouldn’t occasionally bump into you again. Maybe I should have made an attempt to go. Maybe I should have just braved it all. Maybe I should have been stronger instead of crying salty tears in my room alone.

The thought of a heavenly miracle then gave me hope even when I knew that scientifically you were nearing the end. I guess now it appears that I just wanted to hold on to something. 

The sun has set.

The curtain has been drawn.

A chapter of life is closed.

The grave has been filled up with sand.

The slab has been set.

Here lies the body of a woman who I loved and was loved by everyone else. 
Adieu aunty!

Posted in State of Mind

I’m Yours

“Every fear hides a wish” – David Mamet

Tomorrow cannot be Monday. Tomorrow cannot be Monday. Tomorrow cannot be Monday. I only just started my weekend. Now I know exactly how all those workers feel when they make memes about Mondays and weekends. I always thought it was a bit too exaggerated. I mean I did final year of course and had no problem with Mondays. Absolutely none. Everyday was the same to me. 

In final year I was striving for something I wanted. A personal goal. But at work, you’re striving to achieve someone else’s goal. I mean since I am not the owner of the company so it’s not my goal. I am just coming to work and fulfilling my duties just to get paid. 
I wonder if I will feel like this all through my working life till I reach retirement age. Perhaps when I have my own company, I might start to look forward to Mondays again.
I am so bored right now. I don’t even know why I am writing. I am pretty sure this will be my most incoherent and uninteresting post yet. 

Today is unlike any day I have had for the past two months. Usually my day is so jam-packed with activities that keep me so busy that by the time I am done, all I have to do is fall asleep till the next day. Today is different. I did all I could possibly do with my free time yesterday. How silly of me. I should have left some chores for today.

So I go to church and come around noon. I already have a pre-cooked meal so I just warm it up, I dry the washed dishes, watch a movie and I check the time, it is still 2pm. I watch another movie and time suddenly has decided to stand still. I am out of what to do. I don’t look forward to going back to work tomorrow but I also do not want to be idle. I try to read a book, I drop it. Pick up another one, I drop that one too. Now I properly understand why listlessness is defined as having or showing little interest or no interest in anything. I do not even want to write anymore. Since I am out of things to do, I have decided to do something risky. I decide to post a sample of an imagination my very perverted brain churned up. 

I do this dance everyday. It’s impossible to sleep without going through the motions of this dance. Today I have refused to give in. But how can I not? It’s my lullaby. My brain is messed up I know that. But for my sanity and the peace of everyone I have to do this dance. They say insomnia causes irritability. I do not want to resort to benzodiazepines therefore this is my own form of sedative. I daydream it, and then I gradually fall asleep.




I close my eyes, this time we are at our house by the sea side. I hear the sound of the waves crashing over the shore. Breeze drifts in through the door kept ajar. You lounge against the door propped open, regarding me intensely. I squirm on the sofa, rather uncomfortable at the attention. Your sculpted lips twitch then, into a careless smile. 



For a brief second, I imagined bringing that chiseled jaw of yours down on mine and crushing my lips against yours. Only that you wouldn’t let me do that. Or rather I was currently immobile as you had me sprawled apart and bound to the sofa. I was yours to command. I sighed longingly and deeply then.

Of course, from the arrogant curve of your lips, you knew exactly what I was thinking. 


“Oh Alia…

You never learn do you. You can only sigh when I want you to.”


Your eyes blaze like the biblical furnace that I have heard stories of, and I feel your hunger as your eyes roams freely from my bosom and my desire tightens across my belly. 


In three short strides, you covered the distance between us. 



My gaze lingers at your folded sleeves, unbuttoned collar and loose tie, admiring the rippled rail-like tracks on your arm and imagining what it would feel like to unfasten the rest of your buttons and pull you free of them. They are only just blocking my view of course. I realised then, that I was staring. 



I heard a low growl and you sank into the sofa, your teeth nipping at my ears slowly and torturously. Your arms coiled around my waist, tightening possessively as you cradled my back. Your lips zigzagged it’s way from my ears to the tip of my nose, back to my eyelids. I moaned. I needed to feel your lips on mine now.


He tasted of lemon, gin and reckless abandon, and my lips parted instinctively as his tongue slid into my mouth. His kiss was forceful and I found myself slipping under his control, my body moulding against his as I quake under the heat of our embrace.

His tongue flicked against my teeth repeatedly, almost lazily, and my mouth opens wider, welcoming him in. 


He accepted, his tongue briefly skimmed around mine as if afraid to go any further, then he thrust his tongue deeper, drawing mine into his mouth and capturing it with a languid suction. My knees buckled at the reaction, he steadied me and pressed me closer, his body bracing me. His hand slipped from my waist to the small of my back. The intimacy of the gesture spurred my action and my fingers tangled into his curly hair as I held on to the kiss, certain I would fade to nothing without feeling his body crushed against mine.

The windows adrift brought in cold air, my already hardened nipples stiffened in response.

Okay… I think I can’t afford to go any further. When I am brave enough again, I will let you folks know.
Peace!!

Posted in State of Mind

Friday 7th July, 2017

Firstly, there are so many things I hate; of which being taken for granted is chief amongst them. And that seems to be coming around a lot this week. 

This was my original intention for this post. To cuss and fuss and moan until I have exhausted all the anger in me. Well that is not going to happen this time around. I am just going to say something short. I am thoroughly and totally exhausted. I have had a particularly stressful day today at work and this week in general has been exhausting. So please dear Lord, if you indeed love those whom you have created, do not send some more temptation my way because they wouldn’t know what hit them. Thank you for answers to my prayers. Amen.

Secondly, I am at that point in 2017 where I desperately need a time machine. Only, if I could turn back time to 2013 in particular. There are a lot of things I could have avoided that would have prevented the mess I find myself in called life in 2017. You see my actions and inactions are having a side effect on those I love. Everyone says I would have been a different person if I hadn’t taken those steps back in 2013 which brought me here now. While this might be true, at least I would have been able to sleep soundly. I would have been able to live my life without a guilty conscience. 

But since I cannot perform that invention so quickly. All I have is a refrain from one of my favourite musicians to hold on to;


“Hush little baby don’t you cry, everything is gonna be alright, 

Stiffen that upper lip up, little lady, I told ya

Daddy’s​ gonna hold you for tonight

I know momma’s not here, and you don’t know why

I can feel how you feel inside

It might seem a little crazy, little baby

But I promise

Everything’s gonna be alright…”


Please someone should be nice and send me an ice-cream. Sugar popcorn as well too. I have no idea where to get a proper cheap ice-cream in this Abeokuta.

Posted in Pinches of Salt

Untitled

Yes, the title of this entry is “Untitled”. It is not a mistake.

I have been writing this entry for the past two months. After waiting and waiting for inspiration, I have decided that there is a reason it has refused to be finished. I better let nature and fate decide the course of this entry. This is supposed to be a collection of my more random thoughts. I know I am going into the lions den by bringing up a potentially friendship destroying viewpoint on some issues. I am also going to be probably unfollowed by some. Do I care? Not really…
Oh well, happy reading.

How far are you willing to go for religion?
How far are you willing to go to “fit in” among your peers?
How far are you willing to go for friendship?
How far are you willing to go to let go of your individuality to embrace collectivism.




Part A

I will start with this, I belong to the Christian religion. All the time, I see Christians pray and fast against gay marriage laws, abortion laws, equality acts concerning genders and sexuality.

Now I personally would not have a husband/wife that is the same sex as I am. I also do not support abortion that is not medically needed or gender change. But I do not discriminate against the LGBT group or those who have done abortion. I do not treat them any less. I do not think their gender or sexuality influences the way they do things or their ability to do their jobs effectively. I do not consider them “unclean” as most Christian extremists do. And I certainly don’t pray for them to burn in hell. I don’t also pray for the lawmakers to be destroyed. 

In their quest to fight for what they believe in, these believers give up a part of their time and energy. At least temporarily to pray and go on a fast. But while they suffer some discomfort and inconvenience and general public backlash, could we really say that they suffered for their faith? 

Have we forgotten Jesus Christ wasn’t unfair to a prostitute or judging her or criticising her. He wasn’t treating her like she’s got ebola. Let’s be clear that back then, being a prostitute was a really big deal. So why do Christians most especially, the followers of Christ treat the LGBT folk like lepers. Why do we not love them as we love ourselves. I am tired of hearing the talks of homosexuality and burning in hell in church all the time. It is a sign of the last days, yes I do know, but you are not helping matters at all. You are supposed to be saving them from themselves and from the last days. I believe there’s surely a milder way of bringing them into the “fold” if you want to.

Do not get me wrong, I consider myself to be religious at least to some extent. But I find myself unable to make the sacrifices some people make in the name of Christianity. Maybe I am not religious enough.

You would see a a grown man, educated, wealthy with a good paying job… suddenly decides it is his fate to quit his job and suffer because he heard a “call” saying he should be a full time pastor. Now if we are going to be biblical, Apostle Paul was working while being an evangelist. In his words;” If any would not work, neither should he eat” – KJV

Now assuming indeed God did call you, Why should your family suffer because you had a call? When God was calling you, did he ring their numbers as well? Or was it a conference call? 

Wouldn’t it have been better for you to make alternative arrangements so that your family will still be well taken care of? An arrangement that will still be bringing some sort of bread on the family’s table.

Or should I talk about the parents who wants to ruin their children’s life; career wise, because it will benefit the church to study a particular profession as opposed to their kids following their dreams. It doesn’t matter if the kids have the ability for such profession. Everything that matters is the church and what everyone else will think if they follow their dreams.

Okay, let’s take a break shall we? To my Nigerian followers, did you know that “Abeokuta” means “under the rock”? And “Osogbo” means “by the bush”? Perhaps now you know the reason some of the indigenes of those cities behave the way they do.



To be continued…

Posted in Bits and Pieces

Twenty-Five


Back when I was seventeen, 25, the silver age, meant a lot to me. I wrote out a long list of what I wanted to accomplish by that age. Looking back at that list now, it is completely unrealistic. I wonder who gave the advice “always dream high and your expectations shall come to you.” Anyway, back then, my small teenage untainted mind thought the world and adulthood was a nice experience. How wrong I was. 
The only thing achievable on that list is that age 25 was the age at which I had hoped to have passed my bar exam after graduation from my then dream law school, University of Boston. To think that now this dream is nearly dead is unimaginable. How time changes!

To me, age 25 means something different.  So today, I would re-write that list and come check back in a couple of years to see how far I have come. A higher bar has been set by me of things to have achieved or done, on or before I hit 25. I would share a couple with you.

At 25, I am getting laser surgery on my eyes. That is, if some sort of miracle hasn’t happened before then.

By 25, my company should be up and running and should have marked its two year anniversary.

By 25, I should be living independently of my parents and paying my bills myself.

By 25, I should have acquired a few material possessions in the form of landed properties. Yes, feel free to call me high-minded.

By 25, I should be financially stable and therefore begin preparations to adopt a child. 

By 25, I should have acquired enough books big enough to start a library. If you love me, feel free to sow a seed in my life.

By 25, I should have outgrown this journal. Oops! Did I just write that! Ignore!! Just kidding. Ha ha…

By 25, I should have accomplished at least half of what is on my bucket list. Time waits for no man. Here’s my bucket list also. Feel free to sow another seed by helping me accomplish some.
Bucket List:

1. Master the art of rifle shooting

2. Master archery

3. Go skydiving

4. Enter Okada in Nigeria ☑️ 03/05/2017

5. Go camping in a caravan ☑️01/09/2016

6. Go on rides in a theme park☑️03/09/2016

7. Visit an African Safari

8. Go dogwalking in the woods ☑️ 30/09/2016

9. Go camping in a tent☑️01/09/2016

10. Learn how to ice skate

11. Attend an Olympics

12. Learn a form of martial arts

13. Go on the Nevis Swing at Queenstown, New Zealand.

14. Climb an overhead bridge on a busy expressway in Nigeria. ☑️ 03/05/2017

15. Go hiking in the Grand Canyon or Macchu Picchu

16. Go by road to Abuja ☑️ 01/05/2017

17. Go by road to Lagos ☑️ 22/05/2017

18. Attend one Coachella Festival

19. Attend an opera sesh at Vienna and Sydney Opera House

20. Visit all islands and cities on my list.

21. Play a bingo game ☑️04/09/2016

22. Ride big ass scary rides ☑️03/09/2016

23. Eat in Hell’s Kitchen

24. Start up LDD

25. Cycle on the streets of Amsterdam with someone.

26. Be in a drag racing competition

27. Visit Ogbunike cave, Obudu mountain, Owu falls, Arinta falls, Agbokim falls, Kajuru Castle.

By 25, I hope to have made my parents proud. Maybe not in the way they would have preferred, but in my own way.

By 25, I should be emotionally stable.

By 25, I should have learned at least two Nigerian languages and two foreign languages.

By 25, I should have undergone laser treatment for my scars.

By 25, I should have gotten another degree. This time around, in something of my choosing.

I wonder if I have covered it all. I will add more to the list as I remember them. 



P.S Dear Diary, I am sorry for leaving you alone in this dark cold internet space for two weeks. You kept me sane through tough times and now I have become “busy”, I have become those kind of lovers you hated. I would never do it again.