Cause of death according to the forensic pathologist was stated as “hunger”.
Hunger was the cause of death.
Death was soon to come one day or another. A new day augurs unremitting death spells. This was the way life was for Garba.
At that supple age when the heart beats over 80 times in a second, a time when cerebral neurons fire and misfire, a time when no sin committed was regarded as conscious sin, a time when with sufficient thrust a flight was a possible with just 5 pair of fingers and a bunch of good will. A time when Garba was young, so was Ali, Muhammed, Rilwan, Aisha, Tunrayo, Ayuba, Haruna and all tender hearts of Suleja cresent. The eldest amongst them was ayuba and he was merely 13.
It was routine for the kids to come out afterschool playing on the red soil that discolored the frontage of their mothers stall. Aisha was the play originator. She had a new play in line every day. Garba was more of a Ecstatic spectator. He watched with severe will and wish. He wanted to jump over the square borders marked out on the red soil but he couldnt. He couldn’t move his limbs not intentionally but by a matter pre determined. Polio had taken away a good set of lower limbs, never did those limbs move expect in dreams.
Time never stopped counting, numbers didn’t stop adding, and mama was getting old. She moved fragile, she spoke gently, she cooked less and inadvertly, the remains of family ate less.
It started from 6, a family of six and quietly during the deepest part of the ignorant night, ashiru, mumuni, shakira all left at different times, they left their bodies though, and they left mama countless days of steady tear supply.
Famishment became an unavoidable sequence. Money had to be made, mama was too old to work for money anymore, and papa remained irrelevant to the sustenance of anything/any being in the house.
At 16, Garba joined a group of local beggars that kissed the windows of cars in lifelong traffic. At first, Garba knew too little about the art of begging. With his crutches, he made a mere sum of 200 in a day. But over time, with sympathetic eyes, a dark tinted skin, a bunch of famished teeth, century old torn clothes, and a touchy supplication in mid air against wound up windows, Garba made as much as 15000 in a month. This fee kept mama from starving to death but it didn’t keep mama from sleeping with death.
A veteran in the art of begging in fast moving traffic, a skill that had gained experience of over 20 years. A steady means of sustenance for Garba.
On this day while running with feeble clutches after that cool young chap in sultry shades sitting high above the ground in a dark tinted range rover. Ignoring the traffic, a super zealous motorcycle made a great hit. In a brief, his clutches flew off, a pair of flaccid paralyzed leg soared temporarily in the air whilst garba”s head landed some few inches away from the side walk.
The hospital had no mercy; they took away every single dime he'd saved for the past 25 years. CT scan, a chest x-ray, a full blood count and differential, malaria parasite test, widal test, wound swab, a slit lamp examination amongst others. Even Ayuba who served as a security guard in the hospital couldn’t render so much help so as to not to avail his wife and 7 children a year’s meal.
After spending 7 days in the hospital, Garba finally returned, to start from the scratch. A new life was about to begin since his fractured humerus was yet to heal. There was little begging to be done, little feeding could be done, feeding with one hand was easier, begging without legs and a broken humerus couldn’t be easier.
Hunger grew in his stomach like fungi grew on decayed bread. Persistence was the word. He took to lying down from sunrise to sunset all in a bid to reduce energy consumption and also to allow for quick healing in his humeral bone.
The pain grew worse, hunger dried the fluid in his eye ball, his ribs became as thin as fish bones, his tongue was tired of searching for food, his teeth grew bigger waiting for the next available meal, and his face was marked in drawing patterns with small volume veins like the map of Nigeria.
4 days gone and the only thing Garba had for a meal were water and soldier ants that have come to feed on his never healing fracture.
Ayuba came to visit on 5th day; Garba was looking well feed with gas. His stomach was bloated. He was weeping thru his eyes and ears, fat soldier ants crawled out of his mouth with pieces of his asthenic tongue. Ayuba, out of confusion and self denial took Garba to the hospital in search of miraculous doctors that would resuscitate Garba corpse.
Garba lay in the mortuary for days after his autopsy result was declared. After no one came to claim his body, his body was offered to a nearby medical school for young and aspiring medical student anatomy session.
One student came with his scalpel. His eyes gleamed over Garba corpse in excitement, and without remorse, he cut through Garba cadaveric soul down to his heart, to his surprise, Garba heart was there, his heart was there begging to beat one more time.
Friday, August 26, 2011
Aero
“Hey, let’s go. Just me & you. We'll take your 'anke' along”.
(Door closes, car starts)………. “Off we go”
"Tonight, we'll do something we've never done before, something weird and wonderful. We'll head to the airport. There I know a quiet place where we'll watch air planes land and take off. We'll bask in the breeze the flying planes bring and watch with ease how hard it is to fly. It’s going to be an exquisite view I tell you. Let’s go love and you'll see"
The sky was murky. Tiny sparkling white stars winked at us from afar. Anke being a lover of shiny things winked back in return with her twin ‘head stars’.
The road was like a stream flowing underneath anke’s feet. Far in the horizon, closest to the brightest star was a large apparition. A ghost amongst dark cloud. It moved quietly, higher and higher till it was almost difficult to see.
Anke stared, 'Dona' stared, I stared, and we all stared at the ghost in the cloud. I curse gravity for defying us. Holding us down with invisible strings.
Then Anke said; "let’s take off like that plane high in the sky, Let’s fly".
Not a bad idea if u ask me. This is definitely something we've never done before, and perhaps the road flowed smoothly, gravity could give us a minute slack.
"Dona, are you ready.....?" I said. "Let’s fly".
Dona smiled convulsively. "leggooooo she said"
Anke squealed in excitement, "and to the sky we'll fly" she said. We’ll use the Airport road as our take off ground.
60km/hr, then 80km/hr, on and on, 120km/hr and I could feel Anke try. she raised one leg then another, but our speed wasn’t sufficient to lift us up in the sky. It just wasn’t enough.
Dona clung to her seat belt. She contaminated anke’s cold air with her breath of fresh fear.
There was a sloppy bump up ahead. Anke gave the cue, "this is it. That bump could help us soar beyond the ground. With enough speed, we'll be in the sky in no time".
120km/hr, then 140km/hr and I could the see the bump coming closer and closer. Closer and closer, Dona closed her eyes tight shut(in hope for the better perhaps)
150km/hr and there it was. We climbed over the bump so suddenly and anke lifted all four leg above the ground (for some couple of seconds perhaps).
Dona opened up for that tiny second when we slide through the air, I could see the smile on her face, she was ecstatic.
Gravity denied us repose. And we fell to the ground like a cow that's been shot in a game. Anke cranked her shocks in a loud bang. Dona closed her eye once again. and far up there in the horizon beneath that dark steel sky, that plane we looked up to was far gone. It was gone. Probably heading for the moon.
We returned back to the speed limit (60km/hr). We made a quiet ‘stop still’ beneath that tall gentle green with pink leaves. A row of melancholic cars parked on both sides. They ignored us in our quiet space.
Anke was definitely tired. She took in the cold air of the night and replaced it with warm blistering breathes. We left her alone by the tree; me and Dona
“A little resting time will be ok, let’s let Anke catch her breath, she's probably exhausted from the 2 seconds flight we just had" Dona said.
"Come love, let’s go there, yes there" Dona; excited.
"The view up there is pristine; we'll see some white planes take off from there".
There, we watched them take off, those humongous airplanes. One by one, they took to the sky in great speed and a far great roar accompanied them straight to that shiny star sparkling.
Dona stared at each plane quietly while I watched her. She took a brief glance at me and then we kissed quietly/romantically while that plane took off right above our head.
I believe there is love in the air. my love for anke and ma love for 'u'.
Note: as u musta seen, anke is ma car (pls read heart break on eko bridge 4 more info).
Thank u pple for comments(in retrospect & in adv)
(Door closes, car starts)………. “Off we go”
"Tonight, we'll do something we've never done before, something weird and wonderful. We'll head to the airport. There I know a quiet place where we'll watch air planes land and take off. We'll bask in the breeze the flying planes bring and watch with ease how hard it is to fly. It’s going to be an exquisite view I tell you. Let’s go love and you'll see"
The sky was murky. Tiny sparkling white stars winked at us from afar. Anke being a lover of shiny things winked back in return with her twin ‘head stars’.
The road was like a stream flowing underneath anke’s feet. Far in the horizon, closest to the brightest star was a large apparition. A ghost amongst dark cloud. It moved quietly, higher and higher till it was almost difficult to see.
Anke stared, 'Dona' stared, I stared, and we all stared at the ghost in the cloud. I curse gravity for defying us. Holding us down with invisible strings.
Then Anke said; "let’s take off like that plane high in the sky, Let’s fly".
Not a bad idea if u ask me. This is definitely something we've never done before, and perhaps the road flowed smoothly, gravity could give us a minute slack.
"Dona, are you ready.....?" I said. "Let’s fly".
Dona smiled convulsively. "leggooooo she said"
Anke squealed in excitement, "and to the sky we'll fly" she said. We’ll use the Airport road as our take off ground.
60km/hr, then 80km/hr, on and on, 120km/hr and I could feel Anke try. she raised one leg then another, but our speed wasn’t sufficient to lift us up in the sky. It just wasn’t enough.
Dona clung to her seat belt. She contaminated anke’s cold air with her breath of fresh fear.
There was a sloppy bump up ahead. Anke gave the cue, "this is it. That bump could help us soar beyond the ground. With enough speed, we'll be in the sky in no time".
120km/hr, then 140km/hr and I could the see the bump coming closer and closer. Closer and closer, Dona closed her eyes tight shut(in hope for the better perhaps)
150km/hr and there it was. We climbed over the bump so suddenly and anke lifted all four leg above the ground (for some couple of seconds perhaps).
Dona opened up for that tiny second when we slide through the air, I could see the smile on her face, she was ecstatic.
Gravity denied us repose. And we fell to the ground like a cow that's been shot in a game. Anke cranked her shocks in a loud bang. Dona closed her eye once again. and far up there in the horizon beneath that dark steel sky, that plane we looked up to was far gone. It was gone. Probably heading for the moon.
We returned back to the speed limit (60km/hr). We made a quiet ‘stop still’ beneath that tall gentle green with pink leaves. A row of melancholic cars parked on both sides. They ignored us in our quiet space.
Anke was definitely tired. She took in the cold air of the night and replaced it with warm blistering breathes. We left her alone by the tree; me and Dona
“A little resting time will be ok, let’s let Anke catch her breath, she's probably exhausted from the 2 seconds flight we just had" Dona said.
"Come love, let’s go there, yes there" Dona; excited.
"The view up there is pristine; we'll see some white planes take off from there".
There, we watched them take off, those humongous airplanes. One by one, they took to the sky in great speed and a far great roar accompanied them straight to that shiny star sparkling.
Dona stared at each plane quietly while I watched her. She took a brief glance at me and then we kissed quietly/romantically while that plane took off right above our head.
I believe there is love in the air. my love for anke and ma love for 'u'.
Note: as u musta seen, anke is ma car (pls read heart break on eko bridge 4 more info).
Thank u pple for comments(in retrospect & in adv)
Sunday, July 31, 2011
When love bleeds
It ended before it started. But before the end, it all started with love.
He, He fell in love with that creamy curdy damsel with the sharpest contour. She was the finest; evidenced by cemetrial silence when she moves amongst other human species. She was fair to the skin, and her eyes were gentle and pale like the aftermath of weeping clouds. She had this epileptic smile, a smile that exposed more teeth than you could imagine. A smile thats always full of life. It was easy to get infected when she smiled. He got infected quite alright. The infection spread fast and past his entire body defense. She made him fall. He fell too sick to fall out of what hes fallen into; love.
I would love too if this description is true, but in truth, he, he was in mad love.
She, She fell in love with than dark skin hombre with shiny dimples. He was the finest, evidenced by his unrelenting sway, swag and style. He made words that rhyme in iambic pentameter. He had this charismatic gait; that gait that augurs confidence and protection. Filled with humor, smiles easily too. He got all the ladies and all em single chicks wanting, wishing he would be the one, wishing he could be the one to rouse their spirits. He doused her living when he walked past and said hi. He made her feel rare. He made her feel sturdy and alive. And in his eyes, kind and gentle, she felt loved.
You would love too if this description was true, but in truth, she's his for the loving as heaven knows shes was crazy in love.
Time, ticking away our lives like ticks sucking away the cows blood.
I watched them both fall. Every night, they stay by the railing on the balcony, cooing soft gentle words in the discreet wind that surrounds them. They laugh loudly in unfathomable joy and excitement. Carelessly they kiss romantically and for those that peep, there was wanting in our eyes.
Seeing them on these nights made me want to love but this story is about their love so lets continue.
It was a massive ceremony, that day.
A grand occasional, crme de la crme. Everyone made witness, even I was there. Everyone made that day memorable.
She was the first angel my eyes saw. Gently, softly, she walked down the aisle like she was floating in air, she hid her infective smile behind flowering shields and he, he was standing right there waiting for his bride, ignoring the envious looks of millions un-loved girls in the crowd. His dimples sparkle like mini suns at sight while he waited in time for his love to rise.
The lovers kiss was shocking. I wished the same for myself someday.
Their lips moved gently in open space, the air impeding moved swiftly as wanting lips came closer. A few second before impact, they came to a stop. Twas like they took time out to hesitate on the feelings that was about to be felt. Just after that, with great will, their lips moved in great speed and gently, her upper lips came in contact with his lower lips and solemnly, they sucked on each others lips like an infant tired of sucking but in their own case, they werent tired of sucking, they sucked with such passion and definitely, love flowed in the air and everybody that day and that time felt loved.
6 months later and I could see life and love bloom through her abdomen. She didnt change still, unlike most other that loose shape and composure acting irrationally, vomiting all over the place since their abdomen has been compressed by a living fetus. At 6 months, at close stare, you'll still see her angel eyes mixed with her crimson smile, a crimson lady about to give birth to an angel, live.
The morning was cold. Her abdomen was uniformly distended. The baby was yet to kick though. She turned gently to catch a good view of her loves dimple. He was drunk asleep, working overtime to make ends meet. She understands. Shell keep the understanding because this love will still hold if its better and stronger if it goes worse.
She took a sincere gaze at the open window. Morning birds chirping left right. School children running up and down and that feeling propped up. It was time to puke, time to react to the rising gravity from a growing fetus. Gently, she took quick brisk step to the bath, quick enough just to puke into the open toilet. The vomit was pale and warm.
On her way back to the bed, she got carried away by the sight of blood, prickle blood falling like tears all over the floor trailing straight through to the toilet and back to where she stand. She froze on the spot while silver tears diluted red blood.
It was an emergency. As he stared half awake with half his eye open to see his wife stand on her blood weeping in fear. He rose to his feet like someone poked with the devils fork. He reached for his car key. In his sagging shorts, and like a bridegroom, he groped her by the knees from behind. without thinking of the consequence of walking out with a bare chest and falling shorts, he dashed to the back seat of his ride, placed her gently on the back seat, dashed to the driver seat, made a quick start, revved the engine and in a second, he was moving to the emergency faster that the wind he's left behind.
The emergency room was cold. The doctors had cold meins. The nurses looked colder. Quietly and gently, he took his sit in the waiting room waiting for the doctors pacifying words. Time appeared to move too slowly. He couldnt adapt to ignorance, he wanted to see his wife, and he wanted to know how she was feeling. He wanted to see her smile again. So he dashed to the resuscitation room where she lain. He dashed to see her smile once more. But before he could get his sight past those closed doors, he met his gaze with a cold nurse. Her facial expression was self explanatory; it was a "get back to the waiting area gaze". Such cold menace.
in solitude and deep thoughts thought that reached infinity every second. The doctor with his cold mien came to make the delivery. He came to deliver the news.
Twas all medical jargons for the entire world cares. Her childs placenta was implanted in the wrong place. A term described as placenta preavia". And anytime, due to stress and physical activities, she might provoke the placenta and cause more severe bleeding and inadvently loose the child. So a wise advice is that she should have losta rest. No stress whatsoever and antenatal visits will become more frequent and everyday she should make a chat and every kick she gets by the growing fetus should be recorded. A day without a kick augurs trouble.
Their unborn child didnt disappoint. He kicked every once in a while. Some days once or twice some others twice or thrice. On and on till time elapsed, - the estimated date of delivery.
It was on another early morning when cocks shout like rogue touts in ajegunle Bus Park. She packed her unborn Childs idol. The pampers, the shawl and some other stuff. Whilst, she called her working husband, sent him resonating kisses through the phone and later hung up after he declared his love the billionth time.
The tarmac floor turned pale. Soon after, it became paler. Soon after it became red and blood stained. More and more blood stain on that point where she stood waiting for an oncoming taxi. Such frenzy she felt and by Athena she prayed she'll get to the hospital soon enough so as to get her unborn baby out alive soon enough. Soon enough, she found herself in the emergency room. Still bleeding this time her red gown gleamed red like the eyes of horses with Apollo. Lying on that resuscitation bed, the cold faced attending nurse pushed her straight to the theatre where the scalpel was waiting in the hands of the surgeon, waiting to tear out her abdomen to bring out the baby. The anesthetist was also waiting to take her away in deep subconscious sleep. It was going to be an emergency caesarian section
It felt like a day had gone past lying in that recovery room. Her husband lay quietly asleep on that sad chair beside her bed resting his head close to her hips, faced down. There was no baby anywhere. They definitely dont keep babies in the recovery room. A gentle tug woke him up and his red eyes had signs of profuse crying. It was easy to understand.
It ended in blood.
they lost the baby, and like someone bewitched she screamed in a depressing tone that brought tears to the eyes of every listening ear. She wept for days. The doctor explained she lost too much blood and that affected the baby circulation and, and the baby gave up life.
Their love, though, never ending, never wanting, never lacking, never stopped growing. Time heals all wound, O yes! This one will be healed by a new pregnancy. A new life will be welcomed safely with arms wide open. In time, everything good will come.
Its a shame love stories end up being the saddest stories.
He, He fell in love with that creamy curdy damsel with the sharpest contour. She was the finest; evidenced by cemetrial silence when she moves amongst other human species. She was fair to the skin, and her eyes were gentle and pale like the aftermath of weeping clouds. She had this epileptic smile, a smile that exposed more teeth than you could imagine. A smile thats always full of life. It was easy to get infected when she smiled. He got infected quite alright. The infection spread fast and past his entire body defense. She made him fall. He fell too sick to fall out of what hes fallen into; love.
I would love too if this description is true, but in truth, he, he was in mad love.
She, She fell in love with than dark skin hombre with shiny dimples. He was the finest, evidenced by his unrelenting sway, swag and style. He made words that rhyme in iambic pentameter. He had this charismatic gait; that gait that augurs confidence and protection. Filled with humor, smiles easily too. He got all the ladies and all em single chicks wanting, wishing he would be the one, wishing he could be the one to rouse their spirits. He doused her living when he walked past and said hi. He made her feel rare. He made her feel sturdy and alive. And in his eyes, kind and gentle, she felt loved.
You would love too if this description was true, but in truth, she's his for the loving as heaven knows shes was crazy in love.
Time, ticking away our lives like ticks sucking away the cows blood.
I watched them both fall. Every night, they stay by the railing on the balcony, cooing soft gentle words in the discreet wind that surrounds them. They laugh loudly in unfathomable joy and excitement. Carelessly they kiss romantically and for those that peep, there was wanting in our eyes.
Seeing them on these nights made me want to love but this story is about their love so lets continue.
It was a massive ceremony, that day.
A grand occasional, crme de la crme. Everyone made witness, even I was there. Everyone made that day memorable.
She was the first angel my eyes saw. Gently, softly, she walked down the aisle like she was floating in air, she hid her infective smile behind flowering shields and he, he was standing right there waiting for his bride, ignoring the envious looks of millions un-loved girls in the crowd. His dimples sparkle like mini suns at sight while he waited in time for his love to rise.
The lovers kiss was shocking. I wished the same for myself someday.
Their lips moved gently in open space, the air impeding moved swiftly as wanting lips came closer. A few second before impact, they came to a stop. Twas like they took time out to hesitate on the feelings that was about to be felt. Just after that, with great will, their lips moved in great speed and gently, her upper lips came in contact with his lower lips and solemnly, they sucked on each others lips like an infant tired of sucking but in their own case, they werent tired of sucking, they sucked with such passion and definitely, love flowed in the air and everybody that day and that time felt loved.
6 months later and I could see life and love bloom through her abdomen. She didnt change still, unlike most other that loose shape and composure acting irrationally, vomiting all over the place since their abdomen has been compressed by a living fetus. At 6 months, at close stare, you'll still see her angel eyes mixed with her crimson smile, a crimson lady about to give birth to an angel, live.
The morning was cold. Her abdomen was uniformly distended. The baby was yet to kick though. She turned gently to catch a good view of her loves dimple. He was drunk asleep, working overtime to make ends meet. She understands. Shell keep the understanding because this love will still hold if its better and stronger if it goes worse.
She took a sincere gaze at the open window. Morning birds chirping left right. School children running up and down and that feeling propped up. It was time to puke, time to react to the rising gravity from a growing fetus. Gently, she took quick brisk step to the bath, quick enough just to puke into the open toilet. The vomit was pale and warm.
On her way back to the bed, she got carried away by the sight of blood, prickle blood falling like tears all over the floor trailing straight through to the toilet and back to where she stand. She froze on the spot while silver tears diluted red blood.
It was an emergency. As he stared half awake with half his eye open to see his wife stand on her blood weeping in fear. He rose to his feet like someone poked with the devils fork. He reached for his car key. In his sagging shorts, and like a bridegroom, he groped her by the knees from behind. without thinking of the consequence of walking out with a bare chest and falling shorts, he dashed to the back seat of his ride, placed her gently on the back seat, dashed to the driver seat, made a quick start, revved the engine and in a second, he was moving to the emergency faster that the wind he's left behind.
The emergency room was cold. The doctors had cold meins. The nurses looked colder. Quietly and gently, he took his sit in the waiting room waiting for the doctors pacifying words. Time appeared to move too slowly. He couldnt adapt to ignorance, he wanted to see his wife, and he wanted to know how she was feeling. He wanted to see her smile again. So he dashed to the resuscitation room where she lain. He dashed to see her smile once more. But before he could get his sight past those closed doors, he met his gaze with a cold nurse. Her facial expression was self explanatory; it was a "get back to the waiting area gaze". Such cold menace.
in solitude and deep thoughts thought that reached infinity every second. The doctor with his cold mien came to make the delivery. He came to deliver the news.
Twas all medical jargons for the entire world cares. Her childs placenta was implanted in the wrong place. A term described as placenta preavia". And anytime, due to stress and physical activities, she might provoke the placenta and cause more severe bleeding and inadvently loose the child. So a wise advice is that she should have losta rest. No stress whatsoever and antenatal visits will become more frequent and everyday she should make a chat and every kick she gets by the growing fetus should be recorded. A day without a kick augurs trouble.
Their unborn child didnt disappoint. He kicked every once in a while. Some days once or twice some others twice or thrice. On and on till time elapsed, - the estimated date of delivery.
It was on another early morning when cocks shout like rogue touts in ajegunle Bus Park. She packed her unborn Childs idol. The pampers, the shawl and some other stuff. Whilst, she called her working husband, sent him resonating kisses through the phone and later hung up after he declared his love the billionth time.
The tarmac floor turned pale. Soon after, it became paler. Soon after it became red and blood stained. More and more blood stain on that point where she stood waiting for an oncoming taxi. Such frenzy she felt and by Athena she prayed she'll get to the hospital soon enough so as to get her unborn baby out alive soon enough. Soon enough, she found herself in the emergency room. Still bleeding this time her red gown gleamed red like the eyes of horses with Apollo. Lying on that resuscitation bed, the cold faced attending nurse pushed her straight to the theatre where the scalpel was waiting in the hands of the surgeon, waiting to tear out her abdomen to bring out the baby. The anesthetist was also waiting to take her away in deep subconscious sleep. It was going to be an emergency caesarian section
It felt like a day had gone past lying in that recovery room. Her husband lay quietly asleep on that sad chair beside her bed resting his head close to her hips, faced down. There was no baby anywhere. They definitely dont keep babies in the recovery room. A gentle tug woke him up and his red eyes had signs of profuse crying. It was easy to understand.
It ended in blood.
they lost the baby, and like someone bewitched she screamed in a depressing tone that brought tears to the eyes of every listening ear. She wept for days. The doctor explained she lost too much blood and that affected the baby circulation and, and the baby gave up life.
Their love, though, never ending, never wanting, never lacking, never stopped growing. Time heals all wound, O yes! This one will be healed by a new pregnancy. A new life will be welcomed safely with arms wide open. In time, everything good will come.
Its a shame love stories end up being the saddest stories.
Every night
Every night, he came; singing furtively into my ears, and every night, I kept listening. In the rhythm of the songs he played, he mixed a tune of fear with the beats of hope and as he sang fear into me every night. He, until now, restored me new hopes, and I breathe with shimmering beauty in the reckless air that moves my will until now.
My fear, always turned to silence, and the odious tunes seared me out of life, lending me dreams every night, revealing the colors of the dark, just to fill blank spaces.
I speak of him in fear, and every night that I listen to his song, I think of him in tears, as a part, then as a subject of The Supreme.
I walk, I smile, I talk, I whine, and in the peak of my happiness and rave, in the pitch of my sadness and melancholy, I still hear his songs, and only temporary will these glamour lasts for this song he sings, reminds me of when I'll lay worse than an antique, when I'll lay dumb, blind, emotionless, when nothing will matter like those quiet in mortuaries and sepulchers.
And as I speak of him with great fear, as I grant him audience every night, out of hope, I never learn his lyrics, and as I danced to his songs in dreams, I never recall the steps I made, and still every night, I soar out of life.
surely, like those before me, I'll come to dream and dream and air will be of no relevance, my heirs will deride my living, my wealth will leave me, friends will abandon me, and in the utmost of my time, I'll live with rodents and bugs, lice and other dark animals that dread to live in the soil where I reside.
And I remember when the rain mattered, I was found in shades, beneath zinc rooftops. When the sunshine warmed the air, biting our skin with intense heat, I found comfort in dark shades where the temperature was young and adolescent in number. And when the sky glittered with aesthetic rainbow colors, I usually stared amused in joy.
But then a second will arrive when nothing will matter, when I'll soak in a chamber of rain water, when I'll burn in the radiance of the solar heat, when I'll be blind to all that glitters and even all that is gold.
He sings to me every night, reminding me of his lyrics, teaching his songs in dreams, playing the overture in sleeps, but I pay no heed to his song and I listen to my own song. I play my own song in the air I breathe and I keep breathing out of mercy, in feeds, I eat out of blessing.
My smiles and my happiness and every hour that I flourish with expression that will end in imminence.
I talk and talk to a moment when I'll cease to have a voice.
I'll wish and aspire until a moment when the ground will be my only limit.
and I look and look at the beauty in flowers, the beauty in men, in women, children and all beautiful things alike only for this while that I have a life to live and speared the chance to see.
And on and on, I didnt listen for his fear was becoming grave, I didnt listen to its call on my temporary essence. And one night, my body shrilled, my soul shivered, and my heart quaked. in the fear of this first night, I screamed for help, I screamed for my mother from whom my life was made, and at the pitch of my voice not I nor my mother heard my sound, my body laid stiff, and like it had always been playing, I heard his song in my soul again, and in an interim, it stopped, I moved violently on my couch, and I imagine it was a nightmare, or a seizure that didnt last long.
Its all tales that I narrate, only if we pay heed to the death thats knocking on our soul, his song about life and where it all has to end, then the fear of dreaming infinitely, the fear of being less than bugs and mites, the fear of the dark, the fear of immobility, only then will we fear the end.
This is kinda old & filled with errors. I wrote it when i had My first episode of sleep paralysis. Ya'll can check "sleep paralysis" on wikipedia. Thanks for ur comments(in adv). Sayonara
My fear, always turned to silence, and the odious tunes seared me out of life, lending me dreams every night, revealing the colors of the dark, just to fill blank spaces.
I speak of him in fear, and every night that I listen to his song, I think of him in tears, as a part, then as a subject of The Supreme.
I walk, I smile, I talk, I whine, and in the peak of my happiness and rave, in the pitch of my sadness and melancholy, I still hear his songs, and only temporary will these glamour lasts for this song he sings, reminds me of when I'll lay worse than an antique, when I'll lay dumb, blind, emotionless, when nothing will matter like those quiet in mortuaries and sepulchers.
And as I speak of him with great fear, as I grant him audience every night, out of hope, I never learn his lyrics, and as I danced to his songs in dreams, I never recall the steps I made, and still every night, I soar out of life.
surely, like those before me, I'll come to dream and dream and air will be of no relevance, my heirs will deride my living, my wealth will leave me, friends will abandon me, and in the utmost of my time, I'll live with rodents and bugs, lice and other dark animals that dread to live in the soil where I reside.
And I remember when the rain mattered, I was found in shades, beneath zinc rooftops. When the sunshine warmed the air, biting our skin with intense heat, I found comfort in dark shades where the temperature was young and adolescent in number. And when the sky glittered with aesthetic rainbow colors, I usually stared amused in joy.
But then a second will arrive when nothing will matter, when I'll soak in a chamber of rain water, when I'll burn in the radiance of the solar heat, when I'll be blind to all that glitters and even all that is gold.
He sings to me every night, reminding me of his lyrics, teaching his songs in dreams, playing the overture in sleeps, but I pay no heed to his song and I listen to my own song. I play my own song in the air I breathe and I keep breathing out of mercy, in feeds, I eat out of blessing.
My smiles and my happiness and every hour that I flourish with expression that will end in imminence.
I talk and talk to a moment when I'll cease to have a voice.
I'll wish and aspire until a moment when the ground will be my only limit.
and I look and look at the beauty in flowers, the beauty in men, in women, children and all beautiful things alike only for this while that I have a life to live and speared the chance to see.
And on and on, I didnt listen for his fear was becoming grave, I didnt listen to its call on my temporary essence. And one night, my body shrilled, my soul shivered, and my heart quaked. in the fear of this first night, I screamed for help, I screamed for my mother from whom my life was made, and at the pitch of my voice not I nor my mother heard my sound, my body laid stiff, and like it had always been playing, I heard his song in my soul again, and in an interim, it stopped, I moved violently on my couch, and I imagine it was a nightmare, or a seizure that didnt last long.
Its all tales that I narrate, only if we pay heed to the death thats knocking on our soul, his song about life and where it all has to end, then the fear of dreaming infinitely, the fear of being less than bugs and mites, the fear of the dark, the fear of immobility, only then will we fear the end.
This is kinda old & filled with errors. I wrote it when i had My first episode of sleep paralysis. Ya'll can check "sleep paralysis" on wikipedia. Thanks for ur comments(in adv). Sayonara
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
Usin what u ve to get what u want & what u dont need
It was evident that he's never seen a pair as corpulent and sweet as this. I could smell desire in his eyes. His sweat glands were sweaty all over. On his palm he had fine tremors and passionately as he could, he delved his hand into ma firm bra, and in an instant, he took off the bra clips and swung the bra against the locked tight doors. His eyes came to settle on the 8th wonder of the world. A light tear film covered his eyes. With such joy, he rubbed each one like sacred orbs. And gently, he solemnly brought his lips closer and closer and just before impact, I took away what was mine.
Now, true tears came rolling down his face leaving lines like stretch marks. He tried to touch but it appeared quite untouchable. He begged liked someone who has had no meal in 7 days. He wanted to feel my power. He wanted to suck on its juice; he wanted every bit of glory that was bestowed on my hulky bosom. But he wont have it till he listens attentively to what I have to say.
"Yinka, I dont think you love me. You just want my body and thats it for you. you dont care if I dont have a blackberry, you dont care if I jump buses from place to place all in the name of coming to see you, you dont care if I dress shabbily like a corporate house girl when my mates kit up in seductive pencil jeans and sexy tops. I'm not happy Yinka, Yinka I'm sincerely not happy with you".
Yinkas' eye was filled with guilt; there was a mixed feeling of wanting and rejection in his eye. As much as he wanted to feel her, his guilt hurt him and told him he didnt deserve what he saw. His eye sagged under his lid, his fever dropped, and the stream of thoughts flowed through his head.
He lifted his gaze in a gloom and with momentum he stammered and said,
"Joke, dont you dare say I dont lor lor lorrrr love u, in fact, I plan to spend the rest of my life with you. I, I, I know my shortcoming, yes I know but I promise to send 200k into your account early tomorrow for your personal shopping. You can have my blackberry in the interim; I'll get you a new BB touch before the week runs out. And about the transportation issue, I will ensure you wont have to take those black and yellow rogue buses again. By Gods grace, before the end of the year, I'll gather all I can from my cooperative account, and before the end of this year, you will be driving one of those limited Honda end of discussion portrayed at the Honda place"
What more could I ask for. A paradigm for the proverb: "use what you have to get what you want". I jumped over him to show off my happiness. They landed on his face while I held his head tight against them. He breathes into them, when he couldnt breathe anymore, he wheezed into them. His heart rate tripled. He grabbed them cautiously from the sides, then he squeezed softly like soaked up sponges, he sucked the areola quietly and I felt his tongue send impulses all the way to my brain then down to my spine.
What more can I say........."beep beep", my blackberry phone beeped. It was a new message. A transaction alert of 200k from Dr Yinka Farouk to Joke Ade.
Final year is absolutely not beans. I made it past the first, second and third year and in my fourth year one senile sick professor thinks he can make life miserable for me, I laugh. Only if he is not man. but he is more man than you can imagine. I see the glare in his eyes when he sneaks to have a view of that cleavage that separates my two giant mountains. Its obvious; he wants it no doubt, just like these boys fooling around me like bees in a hive. And yes I will make him pay in kind.
"Knock knock".
His croaky voice resonated through his closed metal office door. "Come in please".
His prinz metal hung carefully on his nasal spine in a bid to fall off. His orbit was enlarged and his eyeballs were almost falling out into the open page in front of him. He took a quick brisk look at me as I walked in dressed more seductive than a naked goddess would. In an instant, he took a relook then he scanned my precious without feeling abashed and a fragile smile came upon his face.
"Have a seat beautiful young lady, you are welcome. And what may I do for you" he said.
I laughed silently in the depth of my mind and said to myself, you will do the world for me, just wait and see u foolish professor. lol
Final exams came and became history. A week gone now and my colleagues anticipated the best possible result for their hard work. Prof had called earlier telling me he made sure I passed all my courses and that I was certain to come out with a second class upper grade and that we should set up a rendevous at the 'harriandra supreme hotel' away from his wife and 3 kids later in the day.
The cold weather further fueled his desire to feel them. He was like a small child in need of candy. And as he stroked my skin with his craggy hands while fidgeting on his next moves, he made way to my bosom and was confused on the fastest way to get them out of the bra. Before he could get a comprehensive feel, I interrupted.
"prof, I cant do this again".
I shook his hand away and withdrew to the farthest seat from him.
"My boyfriend Adele proposed to me last week and we will be getting married early next month, I'm real sorry prof".
Without looking back, I cranked on the door knob and left room 018 of harriandra supreme hotel.
With my sexy black, tear rubber, 18 inch rim, 6 cylinders, double exhaust, leather interior and 6 disc changer Honda end of discussion, I decided to pay yinka a farewell visit before I left town for senator Ibrahims mansion at Abuja.
Yinka was looking all stressed up and fatigued in his cold smelly office. A tall stack of moribund patient case notes lay on his table.
"I'm going out of town to visit my aunt and I dont know when I'll come back. I'm seriously going to miss you yinka". I tip toed in my high heels behind his seat, then clinched his tiny nipples all in a bid to steer him into a brief reverie.
"I see you have lots of patients to see, I should leave so you'll attend to your patients".
With his pale gaze, he said; "o joke how am I ever going to be myself without you around". He made brisks moves towards the door, shut it tight, pulled the curtains close together that not even an ant can peep through, then he continued.
"Anyways, you know i love you and i'll alway be ther for you". he said and then he gave me a firm hug, and in an instant, he rolled me over on the patients examination bed while I gave him a little goodbye something. Moist sensually romantic French kiss. He moved his shivering palms against my bosom, he crooned gently as he made way to my firm nipples. He sucked like a fool till he released into his office pants. He had his final feel and at his satisfaction, I took my leave.
On my way out of the hospital, I caught gaze with an old colleague of mine. She was a bad girl for anyone who was willing to pay the price. She sat in the patients waiting area, and as I walked up to make re acquaintance, she caught my glare over her pristine adornments.
"joke!" she screamed excitedly.
"silvia! Look at you".
We made friendly hugs, seductive cheek kiss and she started ranting.
"Since we left school 2 years ago, do you know that alero is still having his time with the deputy vice chancellor son, the guy even bought her a fairly used Toyota corolla 1998 version, in fact, and I envy that girl o. So whats happening with you now, how is that your GTB bank manager, r u still making out with him? Or are you settled as in married",
she picked my hands and examined each finger for a wedding ring that was yet to fall from the sky, then she continued.
"tunrayo is already married o, she is gravid sef. And I presume you are here for the breast examination exercise for the screening of breast cancer".
"Oh no, I'm here to see a doctor friend of mine but maybe I should participate in this breast exercise too, my breast is one hell of an asset", I said and we both laughed.
5 minutes later I moved in with Silvia to the consulting room where 2 nurses with grim smile and gloved hands offered us a sit. I pulled off my TM lewin top, and un clipped my bra. I could see the jealousy in the nurse eyes. She looked at each colossal breast wishing she had organs as fair and big and sumptuous and attractive as mine.
"Madame please put your hand on your head" said the nurse.
She poked my breast gently, one by one, quadrant by quadrant, light and then deeper. And her mien changed, she stared at an imaginary lump on my right breast just below the butterfly tattoo.
"Madame, you'll have to see a doctor, you have a lump in your breast", the nurse said.
"hello, who is on ze line" senator ibrahim said with his chronic hausa accent.
"Senator its me joke, I cant make it today any longer, I'll see you before the week runs out, take good care of yourself my sweet ibrahim" i said.
"oh my sweiss joke, hophe no whahala ba, well if datz iz thze case, I will b expecting you next week ehn, take your time, jzoke jzoke"
The next day, I visited the doctor. He was a heavily built man with a remorse visage. He politely ordered me to pull off my top for him to examine my breast. After he was done examining each breast he was quick to conclude like someone with a century long experience with breast swellings.
"Madame, I think you might be having a malignant breast lesion which is a breast cancer. It will be wise if you do a mammography and an excision biopsy to determine the true state of things. and in the advent that the cells are cancerous, a full mastectomy (surgical removal of the breast) might be required"
Truly truly, it was high time I settled down. Who do I settle with now? Who will appreciate me without these part of eye watery breast. Warm tears reeled down my cheeks in slow motion. Dr Yinka, senator Ibrahim, my university professor, my GTB bank manager, my never ending proposing Adele or my poor self contented Shakespearean lover.
My only asset that glittered and brought gold. Losing it will mean losing out on life. But still yet, life continues. My reign is done with.
This post goes out to all yall that like to harass all we single boiz with alluring breast. Breast cancer is real, yall should examine em. But truly truly, the breast is a wonderful organ. I gatz thank ma mama for a 2 year continuous suckling spree.
Pls drop comments for zeus sake,as they will be thine ginger
Now, true tears came rolling down his face leaving lines like stretch marks. He tried to touch but it appeared quite untouchable. He begged liked someone who has had no meal in 7 days. He wanted to feel my power. He wanted to suck on its juice; he wanted every bit of glory that was bestowed on my hulky bosom. But he wont have it till he listens attentively to what I have to say.
"Yinka, I dont think you love me. You just want my body and thats it for you. you dont care if I dont have a blackberry, you dont care if I jump buses from place to place all in the name of coming to see you, you dont care if I dress shabbily like a corporate house girl when my mates kit up in seductive pencil jeans and sexy tops. I'm not happy Yinka, Yinka I'm sincerely not happy with you".
Yinkas' eye was filled with guilt; there was a mixed feeling of wanting and rejection in his eye. As much as he wanted to feel her, his guilt hurt him and told him he didnt deserve what he saw. His eye sagged under his lid, his fever dropped, and the stream of thoughts flowed through his head.
He lifted his gaze in a gloom and with momentum he stammered and said,
"Joke, dont you dare say I dont lor lor lorrrr love u, in fact, I plan to spend the rest of my life with you. I, I, I know my shortcoming, yes I know but I promise to send 200k into your account early tomorrow for your personal shopping. You can have my blackberry in the interim; I'll get you a new BB touch before the week runs out. And about the transportation issue, I will ensure you wont have to take those black and yellow rogue buses again. By Gods grace, before the end of the year, I'll gather all I can from my cooperative account, and before the end of this year, you will be driving one of those limited Honda end of discussion portrayed at the Honda place"
What more could I ask for. A paradigm for the proverb: "use what you have to get what you want". I jumped over him to show off my happiness. They landed on his face while I held his head tight against them. He breathes into them, when he couldnt breathe anymore, he wheezed into them. His heart rate tripled. He grabbed them cautiously from the sides, then he squeezed softly like soaked up sponges, he sucked the areola quietly and I felt his tongue send impulses all the way to my brain then down to my spine.
What more can I say........."beep beep", my blackberry phone beeped. It was a new message. A transaction alert of 200k from Dr Yinka Farouk to Joke Ade.
Final year is absolutely not beans. I made it past the first, second and third year and in my fourth year one senile sick professor thinks he can make life miserable for me, I laugh. Only if he is not man. but he is more man than you can imagine. I see the glare in his eyes when he sneaks to have a view of that cleavage that separates my two giant mountains. Its obvious; he wants it no doubt, just like these boys fooling around me like bees in a hive. And yes I will make him pay in kind.
"Knock knock".
His croaky voice resonated through his closed metal office door. "Come in please".
His prinz metal hung carefully on his nasal spine in a bid to fall off. His orbit was enlarged and his eyeballs were almost falling out into the open page in front of him. He took a quick brisk look at me as I walked in dressed more seductive than a naked goddess would. In an instant, he took a relook then he scanned my precious without feeling abashed and a fragile smile came upon his face.
"Have a seat beautiful young lady, you are welcome. And what may I do for you" he said.
I laughed silently in the depth of my mind and said to myself, you will do the world for me, just wait and see u foolish professor. lol
Final exams came and became history. A week gone now and my colleagues anticipated the best possible result for their hard work. Prof had called earlier telling me he made sure I passed all my courses and that I was certain to come out with a second class upper grade and that we should set up a rendevous at the 'harriandra supreme hotel' away from his wife and 3 kids later in the day.
The cold weather further fueled his desire to feel them. He was like a small child in need of candy. And as he stroked my skin with his craggy hands while fidgeting on his next moves, he made way to my bosom and was confused on the fastest way to get them out of the bra. Before he could get a comprehensive feel, I interrupted.
"prof, I cant do this again".
I shook his hand away and withdrew to the farthest seat from him.
"My boyfriend Adele proposed to me last week and we will be getting married early next month, I'm real sorry prof".
Without looking back, I cranked on the door knob and left room 018 of harriandra supreme hotel.
With my sexy black, tear rubber, 18 inch rim, 6 cylinders, double exhaust, leather interior and 6 disc changer Honda end of discussion, I decided to pay yinka a farewell visit before I left town for senator Ibrahims mansion at Abuja.
Yinka was looking all stressed up and fatigued in his cold smelly office. A tall stack of moribund patient case notes lay on his table.
"I'm going out of town to visit my aunt and I dont know when I'll come back. I'm seriously going to miss you yinka". I tip toed in my high heels behind his seat, then clinched his tiny nipples all in a bid to steer him into a brief reverie.
"I see you have lots of patients to see, I should leave so you'll attend to your patients".
With his pale gaze, he said; "o joke how am I ever going to be myself without you around". He made brisks moves towards the door, shut it tight, pulled the curtains close together that not even an ant can peep through, then he continued.
"Anyways, you know i love you and i'll alway be ther for you". he said and then he gave me a firm hug, and in an instant, he rolled me over on the patients examination bed while I gave him a little goodbye something. Moist sensually romantic French kiss. He moved his shivering palms against my bosom, he crooned gently as he made way to my firm nipples. He sucked like a fool till he released into his office pants. He had his final feel and at his satisfaction, I took my leave.
On my way out of the hospital, I caught gaze with an old colleague of mine. She was a bad girl for anyone who was willing to pay the price. She sat in the patients waiting area, and as I walked up to make re acquaintance, she caught my glare over her pristine adornments.
"joke!" she screamed excitedly.
"silvia! Look at you".
We made friendly hugs, seductive cheek kiss and she started ranting.
"Since we left school 2 years ago, do you know that alero is still having his time with the deputy vice chancellor son, the guy even bought her a fairly used Toyota corolla 1998 version, in fact, and I envy that girl o. So whats happening with you now, how is that your GTB bank manager, r u still making out with him? Or are you settled as in married",
she picked my hands and examined each finger for a wedding ring that was yet to fall from the sky, then she continued.
"tunrayo is already married o, she is gravid sef. And I presume you are here for the breast examination exercise for the screening of breast cancer".
"Oh no, I'm here to see a doctor friend of mine but maybe I should participate in this breast exercise too, my breast is one hell of an asset", I said and we both laughed.
5 minutes later I moved in with Silvia to the consulting room where 2 nurses with grim smile and gloved hands offered us a sit. I pulled off my TM lewin top, and un clipped my bra. I could see the jealousy in the nurse eyes. She looked at each colossal breast wishing she had organs as fair and big and sumptuous and attractive as mine.
"Madame please put your hand on your head" said the nurse.
She poked my breast gently, one by one, quadrant by quadrant, light and then deeper. And her mien changed, she stared at an imaginary lump on my right breast just below the butterfly tattoo.
"Madame, you'll have to see a doctor, you have a lump in your breast", the nurse said.
"hello, who is on ze line" senator ibrahim said with his chronic hausa accent.
"Senator its me joke, I cant make it today any longer, I'll see you before the week runs out, take good care of yourself my sweet ibrahim" i said.
"oh my sweiss joke, hophe no whahala ba, well if datz iz thze case, I will b expecting you next week ehn, take your time, jzoke jzoke"
The next day, I visited the doctor. He was a heavily built man with a remorse visage. He politely ordered me to pull off my top for him to examine my breast. After he was done examining each breast he was quick to conclude like someone with a century long experience with breast swellings.
"Madame, I think you might be having a malignant breast lesion which is a breast cancer. It will be wise if you do a mammography and an excision biopsy to determine the true state of things. and in the advent that the cells are cancerous, a full mastectomy (surgical removal of the breast) might be required"
Truly truly, it was high time I settled down. Who do I settle with now? Who will appreciate me without these part of eye watery breast. Warm tears reeled down my cheeks in slow motion. Dr Yinka, senator Ibrahim, my university professor, my GTB bank manager, my never ending proposing Adele or my poor self contented Shakespearean lover.
My only asset that glittered and brought gold. Losing it will mean losing out on life. But still yet, life continues. My reign is done with.
This post goes out to all yall that like to harass all we single boiz with alluring breast. Breast cancer is real, yall should examine em. But truly truly, the breast is a wonderful organ. I gatz thank ma mama for a 2 year continuous suckling spree.
Pls drop comments for zeus sake,as they will be thine ginger
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
Heart break on eko bridge
I love her, and she sure love me too. Our love was one of those rare type, something close to 'romeo and juliet' love but way more than what 'posthmus' had for 'imogen'. We had lotta great times together. And everynight, we did the night thing. she cuddled me till ma nerves felt cold. We had great times together but sad enough, it ended all in heart break.
She waited for me on that night, it was one of those nights, those nights we did those night thing.
The night things we did are grave secrets. On one night, we went all the way during the deep of the night on the sobre long road that leads to the international airport. it was me and her, all alone ridin solo on the streets at almost 110km/h. She wailed in exitement while the wind gushed at us, and until that night when i pushed the gas pedal too deep and we almost made our way off the road in a 'gonna be' terrible accident, we stopped the airport trips, we changed course. We made several other night trips we went to the movies alone, me and her, hand in hand, trips to badagry, trips to coastal city of epe. we went home so many time, time when ma mama looked at how much pristine love i showed her, ma mama always adored her qualities.
We never should have, it shouldnt have. I called you names. I called you green(cos of your natural mien and beauty). I called you anke-('the one i care' for in yoruba and thats cos i always want u happy even when i had to suffer directly for it). I called you baibee(cos of the way you moaned when i carassed and pressed slowly into you). but then, i guess it wasnt enough. I know my faults quite alright, i couldnt pay for those shinny attractive exquisite things you needed. I left you all alone when you fell waisted deep into that mud pit. i didnt show you love in the best possible way, but then you know i love you and you sure have your faults too; you are damn too jealous. Is it a crime to stare at that sassy chik drivin that 10 camry? Is it a crime to ignore you for a minute and adore that vintage ford mustang? is it a crime to want to have that red chevy camaro instead of spendin my lifetime with you being happily married, bonded an obscene truce? I guess to you, its a crime.....piffling.
Destiny will be joining us on tonight trip. It was me, her(anke), @dhamyhan, and @ellavesta. on our way back, destiny followed, he took a sit just beside ellavesta.
We just had a good optical feel of that mutated comic series at the movies. It was raining and everything felt cool, and the road felt slippery. And as we approached that bridge, that bladdy eediot right infront of me came to a sudden halt. athena wasnt kind on him though, cos he was soon to hit his ride on the side of the bridge after he made a good slide on that slippery bridge. I was carried away by destinys chit chat and by the time i fixed my eyes back on the road, it was too late. sad enough, that guy infront had iron bumpers, and to my awe, i did the unthinkable.
I know how sad i made you feel. I felt ashamed myself. i shouldnt have if we hadnt slide. I broke ur head light, i bruised your fender, i squeezed your bonnet and in summary, I made you what you are not, deformed and ugly.
But i know you still love me though, i know u still want me though, even though you think azeez is more than i am(azeez is the mechanic that's mending her hurt), I must tell you this sour truth. I sold my blackberry to make you look beautiful again, to see you look beautiful again. I want you back in my hand, forget about my BBM contacts, its u i want, its u i need, i lurv u 'baby boi'.
She waited for me on that night, it was one of those nights, those nights we did those night thing.
The night things we did are grave secrets. On one night, we went all the way during the deep of the night on the sobre long road that leads to the international airport. it was me and her, all alone ridin solo on the streets at almost 110km/h. She wailed in exitement while the wind gushed at us, and until that night when i pushed the gas pedal too deep and we almost made our way off the road in a 'gonna be' terrible accident, we stopped the airport trips, we changed course. We made several other night trips we went to the movies alone, me and her, hand in hand, trips to badagry, trips to coastal city of epe. we went home so many time, time when ma mama looked at how much pristine love i showed her, ma mama always adored her qualities.
We never should have, it shouldnt have. I called you names. I called you green(cos of your natural mien and beauty). I called you anke-('the one i care' for in yoruba and thats cos i always want u happy even when i had to suffer directly for it). I called you baibee(cos of the way you moaned when i carassed and pressed slowly into you). but then, i guess it wasnt enough. I know my faults quite alright, i couldnt pay for those shinny attractive exquisite things you needed. I left you all alone when you fell waisted deep into that mud pit. i didnt show you love in the best possible way, but then you know i love you and you sure have your faults too; you are damn too jealous. Is it a crime to stare at that sassy chik drivin that 10 camry? Is it a crime to ignore you for a minute and adore that vintage ford mustang? is it a crime to want to have that red chevy camaro instead of spendin my lifetime with you being happily married, bonded an obscene truce? I guess to you, its a crime.....piffling.
Destiny will be joining us on tonight trip. It was me, her(anke), @dhamyhan, and @ellavesta. on our way back, destiny followed, he took a sit just beside ellavesta.
We just had a good optical feel of that mutated comic series at the movies. It was raining and everything felt cool, and the road felt slippery. And as we approached that bridge, that bladdy eediot right infront of me came to a sudden halt. athena wasnt kind on him though, cos he was soon to hit his ride on the side of the bridge after he made a good slide on that slippery bridge. I was carried away by destinys chit chat and by the time i fixed my eyes back on the road, it was too late. sad enough, that guy infront had iron bumpers, and to my awe, i did the unthinkable.
I know how sad i made you feel. I felt ashamed myself. i shouldnt have if we hadnt slide. I broke ur head light, i bruised your fender, i squeezed your bonnet and in summary, I made you what you are not, deformed and ugly.
But i know you still love me though, i know u still want me though, even though you think azeez is more than i am(azeez is the mechanic that's mending her hurt), I must tell you this sour truth. I sold my blackberry to make you look beautiful again, to see you look beautiful again. I want you back in my hand, forget about my BBM contacts, its u i want, its u i need, i lurv u 'baby boi'.
Friday, May 27, 2011
cafe au lait spots
His next sentence was terror to my human ears. "You shouldn't try to get married or make children as ur children will automatically bear a similar consequence and these tags will have to remain for the rest of your life"
Well, I wasn’t born beautiful as u might think, but then, I have a billion skin tag all over me, in numbers, I have a total of 40 on my arm, 6 on my legs, as of yesterday’s count, I had 74 on ma trunk, my neck; about 6, and so far so good, I have just one on my face, and that makes me spectacular.
You should see d way people stare at me, ma sight amuses or perhaps amazes the whole neighborhood, but it don’t matter though, cos the mirror I stare at every morning; my mirror tells me something different. He speaks of me rare. A human prototype that has failed his parentage. Such unexpected transition from the regular human form and worst of all, he speaks of me diseased, and every time he says these words, I reply with tears......tears that flow nonstop.
People call me 'Jimoh' and I'm almost 18. I stay with my aunt; aunti dara with her two mischievous kids in a poorly ventilated apartment located very close to d city land waste site. I had everything separate in the house, I had my own bed, my rubber pillow, my own plastic cup, my own spoon and plastic plate, I had my own space. Aunti dara always told her kid about how they could grow tags all over their bodies if they ever thought of playing with me, she told them how strange I was. She said more and many more to her dear children in d deep dark of the night when the walls listen keen and were seduced by shadows. Cos of this, even the walls move away when I get close to them.
Routinely, day after day, I wake early to take a gentle bath while counting ma fragile tags. Afterward, I wear ma 'tag concealing shirt', and off to the front yard where I stir up yesterday’s dirt that's settled on the concrete floor with ma gentle broom and parker. And slowly, while I wait the fall of dawn, they come; the neighbors come out, everybody with his own routine. My job as always was to collect aunti dara fees. The fees every water deprived neighbor pays for coming to fetch water from aunt dara large water storage tank. And till night fall, day after day, I keep to ma routine.
When there's life, apparently, there's a lotta hope. In all my years of existence, I had hope in two things, and then my hopes were shattered by these things, my life was quite worthless in the end and my mirror was there to witness my sad ending.
She was almost the same height as I was, and that was d only way I could tell we were probably age mates. She was obviously beautiful. No one saw her the way I saw her, no one saw her beauty in 256 colors, only me. She appeared naive tho, as someone who knew little of their own beauty. And every morning when she was clad in that blue skirt and white shirt heading for school, I take time out to admire and imagine how it'll feel to hold her close, hw it'll feel to kiss her, how it'll feel to make love to her, how it'll feel to…..ahhh........how does it feel? Maybe one day she'll be mine, she'll be mine for the loving, and she will be loved like no one ever loved. 'jimohs love' that's what she'll get. But till then, I think I have found someone to love, she; sekinat
Aunty dara never told me of this day. She never told me. She just said we were goin to see the doctor and I should prepare for the next hour. A lotta thing came to mind I must say. I instantly rushed to my mirror to tell him I’ll be cured. I told him how perfect I’ll look when I arrive. I pulled of ma 'tag concealing shirt' and then I imagined my trunk without tags, I imagined how pristine and handsome I’ll look to her (my love). With anger, in joy, and in memories of all the bad words I’ve heard him say, I smashed the mirror with my fist; I left it shattered on the floor and left with aunt dara to the hospital to see doctor.
On our way into the hospital, i saw a lot of sad faces going in along with us. lotsa smiling faces coming out too. And by jove, I had the feeling I was going to smile out too.
And when the moment came, it was me and the doctor in that cold quite room.
He examined my tags carefully. He showed me dark spots on my skin which he referred to as cafe au lait spots. He examined my eyes and ears with his special toys. He asked of my lost parents, parents I never knew, and then he, he spoke softly, he said I was beautiful, and that I had a great life, and that I suffered from neurofibromatosis, but then his next sentence......ahhh
His next sentence was terror to my human ears. "you shouldn't try to get married or make children as ur children will automatically bear a similar consequence and these tags will have to remain for the rest of your life,"
I walked out of the hospital sad.
What’s there to live for, for how will I be loved perfectly by Sekinat, just like I was born with tags, so was I born to die? My mirror, my pacifier, shattered, but then, the pieces might be useful, their sharp edges can slide through the neck vessels easily, so well that I’ll cut off everything, every tag that have grown the sadness that I feel. The pain can’t be worse than what I have felt all my life.
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