Wednesday, 5 August 2015
I lost three relationships last year, 2014; more sadly one the year before, 2013. Most of them black. Skinny, wide shoulders, just tall like I would. The oldest thirty-three; crazy girl, after her meal there is need for septrin. All their problems were the same, it only had a different approach; feminine reason has evolved, they demand half the consideration in advance, or they seek in plain words void of any ambiguity a statement in lieu of the said consideration; failure would construe or most likely translate into stingy or broke depending on the context; right then her hearts reopens to other bidders (home or abroad, online or facee) as prospective merchandise.
Hennessy, eight thousand; what of her wine, and then the mixers? Or should I suggest beer? How can, in a club, besides it’s our anniversary. I hear the laughter of my adversaries. Okay! Thirteen thousand Nigerian naira about to leave my wallet, calmly about to make it’s way to this girl in white shirt, and a funny bowtie all for a four-hour loud music, body rubbing and emission of sweat session. We agree it’s worth all the while. Ama burst a rubber-band just for a smile with mine. We also agree that the satisfaction of the moment will replicate several subsequent times. I’ll care less about the post-chill catastrophe; the tears and the tissues. We’ll endure each and every single issue.
The bulb in the common-room is faulty, she’s been faulty about six months; well, that’s long I have moved into this hostel. But really who cares? Electricity won’t come anyway; why destroy the spider’s web? Funny how these old folks keep recycling themselves in public office. Shameless dads risking hell for an eight letter laughable word POLITICS. The past administration kept on eluding me, till I lost sight of a bright ladder they kept. How then can I climb to the top or at least out of this pit? This box-trolls-type existence has got me tripping. Lower than the earth crust seems really low. My 3GB memory is full, I got a lot on my mind, I need these grass burning; my thighs are clapping, I need this calm am yearning.
Watched my beard grow so as to get my Arab on, all in a bid to mingle with these white folks. I heard their dollars is still top, and still in circulation, means I can get me some. Pimpin aint easy! Moreso, Lagos is no joke. School fees on the rise like fuel price in the south-east; need for two kids arise. Naira is as clueless in the world stage like the Military in the north-east; hence their morale demise. The far Chinese negotiate for the generators and the rechargeable lanterns, generous we, with utmost gratitude negotiate the funds, provide the inmates, and accommodate the sub-standards. ROUND OF APPLAUSE FOR THE GOVERNMENT & PEOPLE OF NIGERIA
‘give us our daily bread’ on repeat. Less instead of more is seen with the eyes, need to doubt divine promises arise. See faith running north, in it’s place dark clouds stay. Tear drops dripping down a grown up’s face like he owns Barbie. Palms wet but active drying up tears working like a traffic warden. Hurt so glaring cobbams can see. However, to God’s glory it’s not noticed from afar, guess because I spilled it all in a jar; a green one. First name Shame, last name Less. Long walks to nowhere, no good looks to attract our visual senses, nothing brings fear, never known care, none-the-less our pride we secretly held near, save for moments we could not but cry. Oh dear!
The preacher says ‘do no worrying, rather trust in Thou above’ why then exist the capacity to worry? We guess it’s something to do. How can a poor preacher argue the Creator brings wealth? How can refusal to worry fused with attracting desire indemnify this despair and if it pleases, rebuild this torn out soul, or at least replace these lost hours in whole?
‘give us more life’ on repeat. Less instead of more is seen with the eyes, need to doubt divine promises arise, yet we desist from all acts and omissions that offend the Creator. We murmur, still we refuse loyalty to an imitator. Sundays, we shall; weekdays, we may. Up and doing we declare been soldiers of a cause. ‘bring in the wandering ones’ is the new designation. For once there is life, there is hope. A dead Cardinal cannot make Pope. Oya! Off the stool I go, I’d rather spread cloths with this rope.
Monday, 26 January 2015
I pledge my support to a PDP led continuation of government next month. For the purpose of this support in form of an article, we stand for the truth, with the best known information available to us. Our main source of reason is common sense.
Other than history, why power is in the hands of this man Jonathan I cannot tell from this room, however what is correct is that recent history tell us a bunch of elderly men (wealthy men) from across Nigeria sat, and decided to allow authority to General Olusegun Obasanjo in 1999.
The General won and became the first ever to be a PDP national leader. Invariably meant he put a look on the face of “PDP” as an entity or an institution. The founders of the Party are however some notable Nigerians, but the commander-in-chief was General Obasanjo. He gave PDP a look, wore her first dress, henceforth PDP became what he willed; disobedient, oppressive, and annihilated the opposition. Olu Falae is barely in the prints. What next?
The General turned to within PDP and tore it apart, fought his vice with the might of his office, at this point there was Baba’s camp and V.P’s camp. Everybody knew whose camp all the juice was. At this stage there was hate and envy springing up everywhere. Full stop…
Now there was change of power, hands turned, likewise there was transfer of love & hate to successors of offices; adding up with processes of election/selection/appointment of The General’s immediate successor in office, President Yar’adua, his death and subsequent assumption of office by President Jonathan who then inherited all the hatred of a reduced “northern term” in power, with other issues that flow naturally as a result of succession.
The opposition is wealthy, they have access to front pages also, so they make a mountain out of trash, and sell such to us that are
fully settled in ignorance.
Your dailies have said it all, however I think it’s difficult to stop somebody who wants to kill himself, you are sending soldiers to kill able bodied young men and ladies who have resolved to die, all they are talking about is where and when; the how is a loud sound. What should the President do?
Nobody is seeing all those new electricity distribution cable points been erected as you travel across the states; how many planes do we have? or you were sleeping in the bus, or you were afraid of an accident you didn’t notice. But I guess you notice Onitsha-Abuja is almost dual carriage. Before I left a greater part of Victoria-Island was been wired, new electric poles are visible and workers are on ground. Ibusa-Asaba road is currently witnessing similar visible installation of distribution line projects.
It isn’t as if the opposition would not work, they may, but changing government is not advisable at this point, a new government will revoke all these contracts and projects, it will stall progress which is in itself slow to arrive at.
All those nepa transformers that blew up when we were growing up, that were never fixed nor replaced, what do you think happened? Is it President Jonathan that was the directors who raised invoices for repair/maintenance and proceeds channeled to pay school fees of some of our friends abroad, was that Goodluck Jonathan or his privy?
I have not felt any fresh air, at all, but I refuse to believe fresh air is far. Do not throw away the baby with the bath water, He didn’t cause PDP like this, he inherited it. Vote right.
Thursday, 30 January 2014
Bros, lock-up, these streets and the people running them are mean; and they have targeted us. Their accuracy is 19. They just respond once and continue moving, nothing like 'how is your studies' anymore; even before you talk, they'll say 'you know these children just resumed'
But who can blame them, things are generally hard, and frowning. Man has done too much bad things that God can just allow things to be hard; straight, and just allow due process. nothing like miracle. because i think after this world, there will not be another world. Everything will just end, God will just free because present man has disappointed God deeply. During Noah, God started again, but this time i doubt; human being has really committed; as in, Lucifer is on a steady 'wow' as he is seeing man's doings.
God now reduced age after much fore-sight. no more 400 years or all those long years alive, nothing like that again. Imagine all the wicked things a person does before 40 years, then you add another 500 years for that person; then there will be no more bad things to do again.
We need deliverance in this our dear Nigeria, we need strong people to intercede and pray for hustle to set, and for times to smile. People that can hold the news from above; holy people. Because if angel should appear before me to instruct me not to fear, to lead the youth; before he says 'do not be afraid' i don run, problem go de if he re-appears at the door; because from there na faint. Straight. 'which kind light be dat?'
Or bros, maybe we need to live above the cloud; that powder-blue substance might just be hiding the sun then we feel darkness is prevailing. Finally, it's best to hold faith in God, and never settle for less; as for one, difficult takes a day, impossible takes a week. Just start it in your sleep.
Just when it's time to pen down stuff about you thoughts escape my head into the air, like oxygen through my depleted lungs, this further hallows my mind.
All of a sudden everywhere is quiet, severe loneliness, i can hear my thought; cemetery silence. There's no more talking in my head, and when there is, there's no reply.
All the smile on my face i have to force them, it's stopped forming naturally.
I wish i hadn't threw in the flag, i wish i kept lying i was fine. There was some joy in that despair. This state is harsh for my body to bear. Regardless how i hard i close my eyes, there your image is in front of my heart; like there is another eye that sees you clear inside.
The greatest pain in hell is the soul's inability to love, it's same here when love is not returned. As i write to ease the hurt, i realize the abysmal depth of the cut. The more i write, the more dynamic pain.
Evidently Mother nature put you in the advantaged end, without mercy in your dispensing of judgement as grave misery greet my soul; the harshness in your tone, the coldness in your eyes, your hastiness to say no. Sadly, not a reason of yours is cogent.
Eastern Nigerian girl, in sour ruins you leave me, over my shadowed, deflated self you provide more umbrella shade which permanently relegates me further away from light and plunged into sinking darkness.
Princess Fiona ndi Igbo, animated facial beauty, body used as prescription, for you i have gone mad and back, and i ask 'why was this type of passion made attached to womanhood?, why does sad feelings last long?' glass cuts sure don't feel this way. How can time heal pain, when day after day it seems like spraying cologne on fresh wound on that Okada exhaust pipe patch area.
Negative vibrations i constantly release, negative effects cloud my life's experience. Just get ready for punishment, because you have killed me.
Oh tears! kuku fall let me rest, my chest is full.
Monday, 13 January 2014
Destiny is the total sum up of life at the end of the journey. It is the equal to, which is gotten after the addition of life’s endeavor or ordeal. Destiny therefore, is arrived at, at the end of the tenure, or in the sincere interest of this conservation, Life. This point should be considered thoroughly, as there exist a conscious group who share a belief that a certain condition of life or standard of living is DESTINED for an individual or people.
You are alive now, so it is to your heart I am whispering these lines.
Nothing has been destined. Alive means you are still writing the journey through life, there is time to be and achieve, to break any lock, step over a limitation. You are alive means you can do it, you cannot, however, is not because you are poor, it is because you are lazy, and you Pass Opportunities Over Repeatedly. Thus, you are stupid.
There are many futures, the soothe-sayer sees but one. Eve had a choice; Adam had too, both decided of their free will to alter an already existing future, which was intended for utmost good. Owing to the uniqueness of earth, we have the privilege of flipping through futures as the seconds go by, as I said at our own free will. We have the ability to walk bright paths, to swim calm waters, if we decide to; but we have to walk towards bright paths, and stroll towards calm stream, that future exists.
Nothing natural is bad, even natural disasters because nature designed itself to use its departments to balance itself, and ensure its self-sustenance. Has any piece of rock complained of scorching heat? However visitor man is not comfortable with that arrangement, he feels differently. Birds do not say ‘heavy rains made landing impossible’. If one ceases to do productive work and takes to social undesirable, and subsequently degenerates mentally and becomes dangerous to self and society, that future exist also; conversely, if you plant a seed, and allow same seed to mature through fine and thorough nurture it will yield a good produce, that future exists too.
You decide what your future add up to, remember that there is abundant everything.
Earth is perfect as the creator saw it was indeed good, and the plan for all is of good.
Thewriters are trying to make it simple and out rightly explainable that the concept of destiny is solely a determination of man. Solely. and not a simple force from beyond control earth. You do. The power lies within you. Thewriters challenges us to liken earth to an egg. The egg has the entire sufficient requirement for the semi-soluble substance to form and produce a chick with no external effort, unless of course mother earth’s climate.
Picture having your hand on a pen, say BIC, permanently fixed on an eternal book drawing a line representing your journey that ends when you die; because, that is when the pencil will then be taken. PENCILS UP! Therefore, you do not make any corrections. When there was firmness in your grip, and the thickness of the ink revealed will be held up against when there was weariness or loosened tenacity with faded lines.
You are the main character in your movie, and thus, Every man will account for every hour. That excuse of I did not multiply my talent because God did not favor me will not be admissible, as God did not whisper that. Go to farm in the sun, then vision is fair.
Misguided by the loudest voice, blinded by the brightest light, eluded by the finest color and also by the purest scent; there live since time-immemorial accounts of misappropriation of energy and time.
Man has used his ability of first born of earth to redirect credence from God. For the purpose of this discussion, we will treat three major accounts of misplaced priority.
The primary is to take thought of the body and all her attributes and neglect the soul. There is a lot of attention given to the body and the soul degenerates.
Secondly, we cloud our mind on earthly matters such as business, ambition, skills, money, and family and totally forget proper recognition of the source of all the wisdom behind all these things.
Sin of omission.
Lastly, we plan earth alone, and how to make it here, omitting to remember this earth is just a passage, like a channel. Like NYSC, I mean some mandatory period of activities to make one ready for some task or endeavor. This is the worst case as there is loud weeping.
Sin of ignorance.
As beings on our level of consciousness, we can be separated into two. The ‘us’ people can see, and that ‘us’ alive in invisible form. The former called the body, and the latter termed the soul. From where life comes, is not clear, what is unambiguous however is that it leads to either condemnation or eternal life. This is reality whether it is accepted or not.
Today’s man lives for the wrong reason. The intention behind man’s creation is solely to know God, serve God and to remain with God eternally.
The intention of multiplication was to have multiple sustained consciousnesses in unity and join in praise with the hosts of heaven to worship the Creator.
However, owing to the defection of a core part of the divine universal government, I mean a spirit of higher dimension referred to as Lucifer occasioned by greed, then pride, the plan world have remained the same. Little wonder we marvel at the dynamism and sophistication of modern man and modern sin.
The writer put greed before pride as the fallen angel preferred to be exalted as the creator was. This is evident in the in the way man make man god. This has caused all attention to shift from God. Wrong is forever sweeter and openly celebrated and widely applauded. The simple technique adapted over the centuries is the destruction of equality, as man is equal only before God and law, man is not equal before man because, man alone apply the law; as some men are greater that others. Therefore, man rises above man and demand man to bow before him; man he did not create. Man loves to be exalted, and praised by man he did not make or breathe life into, shifting attention from God.
NB. A jealous God.
I refuse to put my Obama on, and allow myself the ultimate tool to unite government and sin.
Swimming in troubled thought, as I walk across the mall,
Like Paul, all my guilt glitter out of my mouth, pain got my mind against the wall.
Perhaps for my dark-on skin, which tones my wrongs on tint,
I would be walking shoulder low, broken, and chocking of my own stink.
Alternatively, to an artist to draw over my shame where cloths fail.
I think, am working with instinct.
Tear drops in disguise of Soda water,
Purchase of death stacked up in perfect order.
The chill in the beer serve as Firemen,
To appease the temper of a walking dead.
It is cold inside, means the end is near,
What is the size of my soul; I need me something to wear.
Hi boredom, Hello misery,
To my friends I salute and cheer.
In sacred despair, in torment, incurable burns,
I dwell in fear.
Uncertainty as to when or where, or where or when,
As it is anything, until it becomes something as regards the when or where.
Shrunken in black greed, Shylock I hail thee,
Constant self-denial and disregard of conscience
My fall I await indeed consequent of evil deeds
Grace of reproduction allow a dead seed a tree,
Grace of reproduction I channel a sinning spree.
The chain of evil around my neck,
wrist and ankles hold firm like the front locks of hell,
The rough edges burn and cause swell.
Vision is blurry; the weight pulls back,
The stench of rusty metal mixed with blood unbearable.
I see baby demon licking their thorny lips, awaiting devour of my remains.
Body and soul both thrown in utter anguish; both inseparable.
O sin! Knowing thy wage is demise, why then did thou embrace me?
Of what eternal plan have thou for me? Condemnation or life.
Swimming in troubled thoughts my heart soaked with splashing waters,
still I thrust, no brakes until my body lay still on earth’s crust,
or the proverbial return to dust