musings- trois

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musings -un

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When I clocked 20, I single handedly learnt a great lesson; love is not blind. Humans allow themselves to be blinded by an emotion they refer to as love. And in my musings, I know also that we have tagged love what it’s not. Sound familiar yet?  Love isn’t just an emotion; it is a way of life. How did I learn? By the simplest gestures of daily living that didn’t necessary have any sexual expectations or demand a return for a good turn. Like an heartily cheer, a warm smile, protective arms, an extra mile, deep concern, eyes that don’t lie - That is pure, untainted love. Maybe you didn’t know, or maybe do, but I’ll tell, the heart and mind has eyes. The Mind’s eye is a gateway into your conscience and we know that so many have consciously gouged out those pair. In the same vein, the mind’s eye is a mirror into all that you are and will ever be (a God factor if you like). When the mind is wrong, bruv, you might be totally fucked. The heart in our opinion houses love w...
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On The Rugged Streets of Lagos a.k.a Nigboro Eko

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I will never understand my Mother's take on religion. She curses in the name of the god of thunder, blesses you in Allah's name and practically worships the ground on which Baba Aladura walks on. I think of Baba Aladura as a hungry man, always popping in when the freshest round of Boli are available. And like the hungry man, once the worms of the stomach are satiated, the mouth begins to run free like a public tap that went bad on a Saturday morning. If my Mother knew this about him, she never showed it or maybe like every woman; she could betray her emotions well enough. She just believed in whatever he had to say; after all, the voice of man is the voice of God. After that day, my mother would tell anyone who cared to listen that Ajepe was terrible news. No one bothered to know what Baba Aladura had said, once Iya Oniboli had said it, she couldn't be lying. So, adults with enough sense to make their own decisions started to churn out hatred on Ajepe, thereby inhe...
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If Only

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My lover is in town Wearing the latest designer; Bùbá and Sóró Swallowing his rather thin frame I wonder if those legs ever scream "not fair" His hair cut is to die for Two lone lanes on either side his head Center top like the style of íwófá àdáwójoya Curly clustered strands (and this is how madness begins o)   The shoes are fancier Glittery and spiky With Ends finished off in ropes You would think It was forced off a porcupine   The Omidans are lined up In the best of the best Sányán; the Mother of clothes Iyùn;   Chief of adornment Atiike; the charming powder But none catch his eye For they are glued to someone else The bride of a white man For fate has sealed my fate   My one sided lover is in Town With him a swagger That can never go unnoticed I would gladly oblige Run off to a land where no one knows with him If only he'd form the words Rather than watch me sway my graceful hips To the voice of t...
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