Saturday, July 30, 2011
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Saturday, July 30, 2011
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I figured that I have been away from this neighbourhood for too long...I can't say my love for money is bullying my blogging or writing interest. Neither can i say I wouldn't want it to, the truth is, a whole lot has happened within the period I was away and now, unfortunately i don't have enough words to capture the reality...and talking about happenings, I wrote this poem on one of my birthdays, just thought i should share it...quite crazy though.
UNTITLED
I woke up to the groaning tune of my I-beta-pass-my-neighbour Followed by streaming thoughts of my cold and cloudy labour Out there, the sun I see is sewn in sequins Glittering and all-out like queens
I took a revenge on two sachet of pure water No doubt, the weather is temperamental So while I await her next move I’m calling my personal people, oya let’s groove
I’m paying homage to this day that has come I killed words and buried them in each line of this poem No, no, no you are committing an intellectual taboo Yes, yes, yes that’s what people in the fourth realm of royalty do
I write that you can grin waywardly to this arty orgasm Or find reasons to curse my gut, say I hate this sarcasm Don’t worry, it’s a one night stand Yet the beginning of an end
Monday, September 27, 2010
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Monday, September 27, 2010
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I broke a 10-year jinx yesterday, I went to church. The beliefs and the usual hearty excitement remain strong on and off the pulpit – there are a couple of side attractions here and there though, our pastor has acquired more goliath-like bodyguards with full armor. The congregation has more women with full -flaunted-option, and the men are now more ostentatious by default. So keeping my stray mind focused for more than 30 seconds was like a miracle.
Just before the sermon was the testimony time. Bra Jacob opened the floor without delay.
“I want to bless God for what he’s done in my life, yesterday I wanted to iron my clothes but there was no light in my neighborhood. I prayed and NEPA brought light. Praise the lord!”
In my mind, I wished someone could shoot ‘bra Jacob’ from the congregation, maybe that would give him a better testimony. The only reasonable thing about the testimony is that it is unreasonably brief. I hope the next testimony is not about NITEL not taking care of their loose cables after winding up; because I’ll be so pissed!
It was bra Michael’s turn, He looked more matured and cool, he mounted the pulpit meticulously and reached for the microphone, unlike bra Jacob who practically ran from his seat with so much glee like he was called for Oscar and still ended up ‘falling our hands’.
Coy bra Michael’s eyes travelled round the four walls of the church auditorium full of we-can’t- wait audience। He swept his baldhead with his left hand as he ‘strangled’ the microphone with his right. Somehow, he found the courage to start.
“Well if you asked me if I was a sinner I would say yes – he who’s without sin cast the first stone! As you all know I got married 2 years ago.” Many smiled back at him to affirm his statement. He continued. “Before I got married, my appetite for adventure needed not just a meal but a feast. If I were to convert my sexual urge to a political ambition, it will match perfectly with Babangida’s gluttonous drive for power. I over- indulged myself in pornography, I had almost all the collections you can think of - Asian, ebony, naughty nurses, I even had some Nigerian ones before now…”
At this minute, I could see many infuriated faces suing bra Michael for too much information already. As for me, I couldn’t be bothered; anything but bra Jacob’s testimony is good. Moreover, It was the best time to put my sift-silver -from -the -dross technique to use.
Unapologetic bra Michael continued with his testimony. “But now God has given me my missing rib, someone who understands my flaws, she does not nail me rather she appreciates and encourages me. I don’t have all those collections again.” Pastor’s countenance at this point was not explicit but I could see him taking a deep breath.
“But the few ones I kept, we watch and enjoy practicing them.” Bra Michael exclaimed.
Our Pastor and some other church members jumped out of their seats, it looked like they were going to give bra Michael a standing ovation but no, shock and disappointment pushed pastor out of his seat and the other people were trying to vacate a 10-seater for Bra Michael to rest his porn self.
It was time for the day’s sermon, I had to depend on my bible’s table of content to find the book of Mathew and Exodus and Luke, and …I mean it was as if someone had reshuffled the whole content. I roamed my eyes stealthily around the auditorium to see if I was the only one in this go-slow situation only to find out how archaic I was – While I struggled with my encyclopedia’s identical twin bible, others had iPads and smart phones to check scriptures and take notes. I turned to the dude on my left and asked: “scuse me, I know the book of first chronicles is in the old testament, where is second chronicles.” The guy replied “Oh, you don’t know where second chronicles is, I don’t know either, you might have to google it!” My sincere response: Okay I get the point I know I’ve been away for too long but I have a question for you, how much did you sell your brain to google? But for political correctness I buried my sincerity and said – alright thank you.
My mind travelled back to what led to my long sabbatical from every Sunday church. I could not figure it out so easily but I could remember collating my thoughts at some point and making a stunning presentation to my parents on why I wanted to stop going to school; to my surprise, I got a ‘Yes’ on the spot. So, the following Month the Oliver twist in me asked for more gruel - I told my parents I was going to quit going to church too. My excuse was that I had allergic sensitivity to the sheer hypocrisy in church. Unfortunately, for me this is what they heard: “Dad, Mom Al-Qaeda and Al-shabaab have been talking to me for some time now; they want me to lace my underwear with an explosive device on Christmas day. Although I’ve agreed to do it, I just thought I should let you know.” The next morning all those pesky Uncles and Aunties (who attend family meetings for a living) had come to discuss my issue.
I drifted back to the sermon and before I knew it, it was THE GRACE. Yes the grace, the same I thought bra Michael would enjoy from church members who already stoned him to death in their minds. At the church gate bra smart (bra michael’s old friend) was trying to teach him how not to say everything.
“What was that about mister? How familiar are these words to you; open your mouth and wallet cautiously cause my friend once the meal is served fetching the salt is difficult. You brought whatever shame you get on yourself. By the way, you said you have some Nigerian ones, I never knew there was something like that ; I wouldn’t mind if you can spare one.”
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
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Tuesday, December 01, 2009
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I hope this can pass for a thank you note to all my friends. What I’m trying to do is to set the right mood for November 18. Isn’t that interesting?
Here’s the deal, I’l put my last night’s (unedited) thought for you in black and white to read. I write, you choose what to believe. You can say I’m quirky, I would rather say I was Just fortunate to have captured some crazy roving thoughts.
Tuesday 17.11.09 23:47 Location: Withheld
Alan Jackson was already supplying some cool country music, I could switch off easily with this rhythm cos I’d listened to each track than Alan did. While I started flirting with the computer, I couldn’t help laughing at my typing skill. Ten fingers resting on the keyboard (;LKJ ASDF) unfortunately, only two fingers (one from each hand) was doing the job. Does it matter? No be 50 words per minute. Small thing!
23:51 At this minute I already started developing a feeling of nostalgia. What was my previous November 18s like: The last was fun, at least colleagues had something to laugh about – the big ugly cake.
I don’t think I’ve had those birthday parties with cabin biscuits and coloured water in some funny rubber bottle before. No, mom would rather cook beans for my guests.
Who and who came? Did they line me and my friends up and ‘yelled’ “say mushin!” May be photographers were on strike on most of my childhood birthdays cos hmm… I don’t know. I just hope Mom didn’t make those Agege bread kinda cakes.
Were there enough girls to go round?
(‘Me’ and ‘the other me’ never seem to agree on one thing)
Alter ego: Shior!…what kinda thinking is that, please stop polluting the air with your dirty mind – na bach-eve?
Me: See pot wey dey call kettle black oo, Hmm… girls come sha
Alter ego: I wish I had your time.
23:55…ehen talking about girls, I no dey try at all, I’m not even coming any close to grandpa’s swag. ‘JP’ is a seasoned polygamist (baad guy!) and for Pa, that guy too is learning pretty fast. Legacy,huh?!
23:56 Strolling away from the thrilling thought of “wow! it is a new day”(a fresh page on my diary) to engage the mind in answering some questions.Asking myself at this moment made it a millionth time… and for lost-count times I’ve had to explain to friends and folks why the church is suffering this neglect from me. Sure! I’ve answered this question more than my name. Sometimes with vague explanation, on point in some cases - I have won in most situations by avoiding the argument.
23:58 Why do I call him in times of need if I don’t believe in him? That day in school when that rubbish malaria came (armed to the teeth) with the plan to take me away, I held on to the bible more than my breath. My faith at that moment was at par with daddy GO’s. May be the church thing is what I don’t like.
Alter ego: Then you hate God
Me: Don’t start if you can’t finish it…Do I have to sleep in church to prove that I love God?
Alter Ego: Do not forsake the gathering of thy brethren… Hebrew 10:25. fool!
Me: Oh I see, at least for the first time you are right about something, for eligible single people, it is not a good idea to forsake the gathering. For me…
Alter ego: for you hell is certain, abi?
Me: (Singing) …when I die someday, will I be in heavenly places singing hallelujah, with an angel on the piano, oh oh.. or will I be another contribution, to the earth, the trees and the gra…
Wednesday, 18.11 00:01 My phone rang…guess who?
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
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Tuesday, April 28, 2009
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THE faint-hearted birds had retired early to bed with their cadence leaving the crickets and the toads to reign with their creepy tunes. We bolted our windows our doors; then our eyes, sprawled like sardines on a piece of a locally woven mat. A troop of some small-but-mighty vampires also lives on our “bed”. I saw the other children being struck by them intermittently. I became the unselfish host of the mosquitoes –offering a feast for free.
My eyes remained ajar, blurring every image even as the sympathetic moon of the night provided an uninterrupted light through the roof thatch and the crevices on the wall. A pot full of herbs concocted earlier in the day sat on the grill on a corner of our densely populated hut.
I caught a glimpse of an anopheles mosquito gliding cheerfully towards me; now I’m 100% awake like kerosene. I think I heard one of the mosquitoes say, “Wow! This is a place to be…” I was furious about their boastful gestures and wish I could get hold of them and retrieve our blood.
Ours is the first hut on the border of Sahelian Savannah where minors who were vaccinated against meningitis before the virulent outbreak were kept. The children in the second hut are down with rashes, chronic headache and neck stiffness. In the third hut is the batch with more complicated illness like deafness and epilepsy.
The fourth is a morgue!
No family member objected Uncle Tabo’s decision of bringing me to the village after my father was deployed to join the peacekeeping force in Darfur. I miss my parents – Father assured me that he’d be back soon, maybe when the war ends! For mother, cancer already took her so there’s no coming back. All I have left is my big dream of joining the fourth realm of royalty tomorrow.
The night crawled, the cocks won’t crow for they had their own wounds to stitch, so daylight came unannounced.
The entire village is convulsed with grief and fears of children dying every night, so to unravel the cause and find possible awakening from this nightmare, the most revered priest was summoned by the elders of our land to consult the deity. He did openly at the village square with virtually all villagers present. The priest posits vehemently that the afflictions are a show of rage from the gods. “It is an intractable curse…it’s revocable though, we must appease our gods with a ritual, yes! Only one sacrifice and all our afflictions will blow away”. My favourite part! We can’t wait; oya! read your list of palm oil, chicken and cow.
His eyelids flickered simultaneously with the sound he made with his gong, he stopped striking the gong for a moment, gazed like a owl, took a tempestuous sigh and said “For the ritual…” at this point, the silence at the square dwarfs that of the cemetery; the attention on the priest is the same that a good figure gets from the promiscuous eyes of men. He broke the news “We need the lateral incisor of a cockroach, the thumb nail of a python, liver of an ant and …” “STOP!” An elder interrupted his irksome ritual ingredient list.
6 weeks later…
Sometime in April, we had recovered from the pranks the priest played on us but not from our ailing hearts when a renowned pharmacist accompanied by doctors without borders came to our rescue with an untested antibiotic. Our land the lab; our people the specimen.
They left the next day without looking back only for us to start building more huts to relief the fourth. It took us a while to patch their footprints …we filed a (barred) suit and eventually won a trip to Rome.
Thursday, March 19, 2009
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Thursday, March 19, 2009
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Even on the path of the farthest odyssey
life breathes ceaselessly.
With comrades drenched in endless glee;
bread of oneness is served indiscriminately
Hand in glove, we set out as savage lions
prowling through the canyons
we slaughtered hatred with no gun
dance while we burn our angst in the sun
In the widest desert, through the gale
the howling wilds begets no frail
we fastened our minds – we pray
our armour’s thickened by the day
Amidst the wrathful seas – we stand
brimming the air from the shore of our homeland
is the ambient music, the party’s grand
with a euphonic chorus ‘our heroes are back in the land’.
Monday, March 2, 2009
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Monday, March 02, 2009
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In broad daylight
they draw nigh, waiting for the rain
to restore their lives
they stand in unison
their shadows stand by them
In accord, they all sing for freedom -
the same song apartheid lost to
the same that sets our colour free
the same my unborn ideas sing tirelessly
Monday, February 23, 2009
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Monday, February 23, 2009
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Calumet of our ancestors
shielded jealously like an infant
buried alive like imhotep
On our alley
lives this Vintage, antique
(we walk heedlessly on it)
for decades
Today…
my father stumbles on this treasure
where he could be lost on his armchair
on the terrace;
sending - goodwill message to the moon -
alluring redolence to the gods
exorcising our turmoil
He discovered how to
exhale his wounds
away through a siphon
via the token of peace
freeing ivory Soaring birds –
to spin freely on a dusking sky
far from here
their aerie in a blank air
When he blinks
he bids farewell to his fret;
when he hems
a wound says "I am heal"
Tomorrow…
some men are coming
to sniff their nose around
from the museum – I presume
for my father's treasure.
Friday, February 13, 2009
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Friday, February 13, 2009
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1. I dream in daytime. Sleep at night
2. Weekdays crawl...weekends run.
3. Clef was born in the church, raised in the streets…I was born and raised in the street.
4. I like dancing (when i'm alone)
5. I’m a die-hard Chelsea fan. This club has been breaking my heart in recent time even with Guss Hindink as the new victim sorry caretaker.
6. My future plan as stated in my school year book is “breeding children in multitude for my nation (Nigeria). I don’t know why I’ve not started yet. Nigeria needs children…plenty plenty children..lol
7. I developed a serious phobia for water after watching “deep blue sea” and “the beach”. Still having this awkward feeling that sharks may be somewhere in a pool hiding…don’t laugh pleeeaaasssseee!
8. Calculation - my other phobia. I despise it.
9. I believe sacrifice is a gift your friends and folks deserve anytime.
10. OK…last year I cried while watching a movie, still trying to figure out why.
11. My …girlfriend thinks I’m too good to be true. My ex actually!
12. I enjoy writing. The best time I write is when I want to. At work I do it willy nilly.
13. I’m a Full Blooded Indigene of 9ja. I believe so much in my mofatherland.
14. It took my parents like a decade to know i’m a good child…still having the same problem with some friends…Don’t worry, take ur time!
15. Does Vals affect birth & abort....rate? Just wondering!
16. I’m a fan of Batatunde Raji Fashola. I think he’s a good, responsive and active governor.
17. I tell lies when necessary e.g.… at job interviews…knowing what the interviewer(s) wants to hear and saying it, is the rule of the game. Y should u lose a job for no reason?
18. I believe in God and Jesus as my personal saviour. I also believe that after bad leadership, religion comes before brain drain in Africa’s drawbacks. These are the proud parents of poverty - the mother of epidemics
19. I Laugh Out Loud! A lot!
20. I tap loads of inspiration from listening to music.
21. I chose Solomon as my baptismal name (long time ago)…My Uncle who’s a pastor objected it…his reasons were not convincing enough, so Solomon it is!
22. Déjà vu!
23. I love country music. Odd? At a time I was so much into Akpala.
24. I hardly stare, but when my eyes r on it, I grasp...
25. …some things are better left unsaid.
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
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Tuesday, February 03, 2009
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Let’s scour this gungy cloud
Shave this shaggy coast
Comb and keep it kempt
Let’s rinse these filthy hands
Purge this putrid game
Be virescent - be potent
Let’s unfold these idle arms
Slay this graft
Fumigate these cankerworms
Let’s cheer this whistling breeze
Curse the storm
Raise our thumbs to this ornament
Let’s offer Eko our mother of pearl
Revile her saboteurs
Revere this new warrior like ruby
More than ever, we have this pride of belonging. Thank you BRF. Eko oni baje oo!
Dare Idowu 2009
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
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Wednesday, January 21, 2009
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Some say replace the ‘B’ in his name with an ‘S’ and see if people would not take to their heels. The S became some people's role model before the B (their names are written in different inks in the annals of history though). In fact, when I punch the B on my computer, it suggests the S. The sentiment of semblance in names and the colour of his skin were buried as he was ticked by almost all of us to rule the ‘new world’.
The 47-year-old African-American yesterday became the 44th American president after being sworn in with the same bible used by Abraham Lincoln in 1861 (148 years ago). Today, it becomes very emotional for the human race; we sing in admiration not because he’s making history but because he’s history!
This erstwhile Illinois Senator in his preferred mien of rolling up his sleeves is offering this generation an opportunity to live in an era with a legend whose story will forever sell the tabloids. We are writing history today for others to read. Franklin Roosevelt, Abraham Lincoln, Barack Obama, Martin Luther King jnr and Daring (that’s me!) are great custodians of hope. Our effrontery to challenge conventions singles us out. Our biographies remain an indispensable source of inspiration to many.
Uneasy lies on the head that wears the crown – after taking the oath of office in the midst of wars, pall of recession and the world feeling the sting of different crisis -he can’t afford to sit on the (dilapidated) fence neither can he sleep with his two eyes shut. He must be a boys’ scout or rather a cowboy!
It’s no news that he has a chunk of files to attend to upon taking a role which no man of his breed had played …My first day in office even as a rookie public relations executive (at the threshold of my career though) was not ‘red-carpeted’, (at least he still got about 2 million crowd at a befitting inauguration ceremonies planned with $150 million). Conversely, in my case, my boss did not look at me twice to know if my head was too big for his liking, Or if i was too short to be a good PRE. He could not tell if my shirt was too crispy or crumpled…instead he emphasised that he’s not offering me an armchair job so I needed to step up my game even at the point of starting it - A good lesson this brother can learn from a fellow brother man (Don’t worry…I’m not sending my invoice yet).
Okay back at home…oh no, another official assignment to Ibadan…Please I’ll be back but in the mean time I want you to know that I don’t join the chorus of ‘yes we can’ because it is a cliché.
To be continued…
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