MDT ; Abuja Corper’s diary (II)

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MDT: Moving Death Trap

If you are sitting at the front seat of a keke you have to be alert. Even more so than the driver. Plant your feet on the base of that thing and spread your legs apart, but if your legs cannot reach the floor of the tricycle (don’t worry, we are all growing) place your tippy toe on the base with your feet apart too. This is for balance.

Honey, when the driver tells you ‘hold that rod’, you cling to it like it’s your last link to this world because it very well may be. Continue reading

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TGIwF; THE LIFE OF AN ABUJA CORPER (1)

THANK GOD IT was FRIDAY (TGIwF)

I had just finished a class by 4:00pm instead of 4:30pm, and I was feeling myself. The kids understood, there were laughs, had a heart to heart talk at the end; it was all so good, my boss gave me 1000 naira for my efforts! ( he had listened in on the class). Then there was him…ughh…one creepy guy that asked to give me a ride on my way home. Needless to say, I declined. I don’t take free rides. Stick around and I’ll tell you why. Anyways, nothing could go wrong. Continue reading

RECLAIMING HER TIME

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I couldn’t remember the last time I went to grandma’s house, No 5 Nwaniba road had become sort of a taboo after it happened. Faint memories still linger though, my cousins and I dancing awilolokoba at the backyard with our hands on her big calabash and our buttocks out, twerking is what they call it these days, we were ahead of our time. I remember her cats rubbing against my leg while we ate at the dining table, she’d tell us ‘don’t give them fish, that’s all they want’ in her raspy voice and thick AkwaIbom accent, cases of theft had been pinned on them and we went scout free. But that’s all I remember and as we watched her dwindle away, I wondered if that’s all she remembered too.

Continue reading

SIERR A LeONE: This was home

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More than 3,000 people lost their homes in the mudslide in Sierra Leone

This was ours
Our legs climbed sugar loaf mountain
Our hands fell the trees
Whose trunks became frame to our homes.

This was ours
Our land welcomed strangers
Fell more trees, they made home
This became theirs, ours
We became neighbors, friends, family

Continue reading

Finding us : an immigrant’s tale

In honour of world refugee day.  June 20, 2017. I do not attempt to know how it feels but my heart goes out to all affected by war,  political , economic  social and whatever reason that made them make the difficult decision to leave what they have called home.

HIS VERSION
I’ll find her
I couldn’t help but feel guilt for our current predicament
It was my idea.
I decided we had had enough
Our parent were gone, siblings too
She’s all I have left and dying together wasn’t an option Continue reading

Yes I’m black

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I remember going into the early hours of my 18th birthday thinking, ’18 years’. It took me 18 years to fall in love with me.

So when he joked ‘ you’re black‘, insult or not, I threw it back in his face.

Yes I’m black

I’m as black as the night giving way to the morning sun.

I’m so black that when it does hits my skin, I shine.

It illuminates my flaws, brings to Continue reading

Unknown

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She wore a bright pink dress, walked into the cafe bringing in a calm breeze that set the mood right. It wasn’t her perfume, it was her soul.
‘Coffee to go please’.
I had never met her before but I imagined she was loved. I imagined her heart big enough to soothe the deepest pains, heal the broken.
‘Milk or sugar? ‘ I asked
‘Black’
She looked sad, Continue reading

little girl

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I personalise all my poems, I think its because I heard poets write from what they know, what they have felt and I want to oh so desperately believe I have in my few years here experienced things worth writing.

But the truth is, I have a lot more to experience and the little girl in me rebellious and adamant on not changing has this to say:

Dear life I will run this race to the very end.

I will not quit when you make me believe it’s my only option Continue reading