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Wednesday, 23 July 2008

...Yesterday has Gone

Celestina sat on her front porch watching the rain, first it was pouring down then it starting to drop subtly that if you looked up to the skies it made like little drops of pearls all glittering to the glory of the beautiful afternoon.

Peace of mind was the only thing she lacked at this moment even the rain had failed to console her wounded heart. Being very artistic and interested in life, rain coming down had been a sign that all might go well today has opposed to the last twenty one days.

Normally she was one to object to the fact that even the worse of life’s turmoil could not be viewed positively, for her there was a light even in the darkest of life’s tunnels that would always lead you out. However Celestina sat on her porch today watching a pearl drop from heaven land on a leaf from the mango tree and then drop unto a snail that was happily carrying on with its day duties. The snail did not twitch and if it noticed a drop just landed on it, it paid no attention but carried about its business. Celestina suddenly wished she was that snail, she wished she could take no notice of everything going on but it was too hard to carry on like nothing was happening. The memories of it all flowed in her brain non- stop passing through every nock and cranny of it. She could have almost sworn that she constantly heard her terminated baby cry her name. It was easy for the doctor to try convincing her that it was only a foetus but Celestina knew it wasn’t just a foetus, it was her child.
She loved her husband and she had never felt guiltier killing his child but not to do so would have been the crime she committed, at the rate at which things are going, she has to save all her unborn from him. Either she keeps killing them or leave him alone which is out of the solution.

Her mind drifted to when she was seven in almost the same scenario, only then she was sitting on the porch of her father’s mansion on the lap of her mother watching the rain fall down. Her mother was talking to her, one of the tete a tete they shared once in awhile. She told her of how lucky she was to have Christ in her life, how glorious her future would be, and how brightly the sun shone upon her face making her so noticeable. She had prayed for Celestina, and told her that her blessings would be full and she would have a happy home with a good God fearing husband in the future. Celestina had sucked it all in muttering her Amen that was now defaulted to her lips whenever she heard words of prayer, saying it before even realising it had been said. A few days after that, Celestina’s mother; Agnes, died.

Celestina had married, she had achieved much more than she prayed for and better still, she had married one of the most gorgeous well to do men in the society. Ten years into her marriage she had discovered she was living with two people in the body of one but fear of the truth kept her in this miserable situation. Celestina watched her husband thinking he was un-noticed, sneak into their seven year old daughter’s room every now and then to have sexual intercourse with her, but she had said nothing to date. When her second daughter was seven Celestina could swear he started doing the same to her.

She has never brought herself bold enough to confront him partly because he was perfect in every other way during the day. So she stuck to her self-denial that a man so perfect, so God fearing and peaceful would never do such to his own children. Her heart burned for her girls but she was too into portraying the perfect family to save her own children. That was why twenty one days ago, Celestina walked into doctor Martin’s office for her scheduled termination, and this would become her first solution to resolving her agony. As it is, she already has three children and that would do. Lucky enough for her, the third child is a boy and she knows her husband hasn’t been going into his room. She promised herself that she would rather not bring any more children to the world than make more suffer in the hands of her husband.

The rain had stopped now and the earth smelt so beautifully of fresh rain, Celestina looked at her watch, it was only three o’clock and the driver would soon be back with the children from their different schools, a few more hours and her beloved husband would return too from work. She wiped dry her wet cheeks with the hem of her wrapper and retreated into the house to see if Kofo her maid had finished with lunch.

Looking around her on the wall inside the house, her thirteen year old daughter Anna’s portrait hung with a full bright smile that would light up any room, next to it was nine year old Nneka, light skinned with gap teeth and would have been extremely beautiful but for the huge forehead mounted upon her head. Nevertheless she could be regarded as perfection by any artist with a wild imagination. Junior at six was carbon copy of his father, it was already obvious that he would be tall and would well be the ladies dream in a few years to come was plastered with a goofy smile on his face, his portrait was next to Nneka’s. Celestina looked at her children, her joy and happiness and thought how their lives would have been perfect, how the story in her heart would have been different, how her smile in public would have been genuine not fallacious. She sighed and made her way into the kitchen her huge buttocks following closely behind her.

Friday, 18 July 2008


I opened the door and threw my hands in the air out of frustration. I couldn’t believe it had lingered on this long. What is it that I have done to the world to deserve this? Why in God’s name wouldn’t it stop?

Lately all my questions seem rhetorical, I have suddenly become the only person on the surface of the earth, no; I have become the only person that knows suffering on the surface of the earth.
I opened the box of medicines I keep under my bed about the take my 8th tablet of ibuprofen for the sickness that I am imagining, imagining because I feel so much pain, only I don't know where it hurts but the urge to take the acclaimed strongest painkiller bounces on me like wild fire. Perhaps it would ease my arching imaginations. After taking the tablet I threw myself on the floor in exasperation, why the hell wouldn’t it stop? Am I the only one on the surface of the earth? Why am I punished so?

David and Ola ran into the room and Ola picked me up from the floor and balanced me on the bed. What the hell is wrong with you? What is making you crazy? Are you the first person to smoke marijuana? After all we all smoked it together and now you are behaving like a mad animal. I turned to her sharply; well I wouldn’t be behaving like a mad animal if the world was not against me would I? Ola took a deep breath and asked me to tell her where I got the stupid idea that the world was against me. I shook myself free from her and walked towards David who was standing by the door way. David why is the world against me?
Aghhh!!! I told you before; you are just paranoid, it happens when you smoke weed the first time.
No. no way I am paranoid, didn’t you watch the news? Are you to tell me you didn’t notice how the newscaster was looking at me? The newscaster had that disgusted look on her face like I was not human, like I don’t deserve to be alive. Um… maybe I don’t, is that why I feel so much pain? I feel pain all over.

Ola walked up to us. Hey! Have you been taking those pain killers again? This girl I have told you, before you know it you would drop dead and die if you don’t stop this madness. What is wrong with you sef? In short, let me lock that medicine box away. I looked at Ola and her head started getting smaller and smaller until she was left with the head of a roach on her neck with the two antennals pointing at me. I screamed and dropped to the floor.

I opened my eyes to see six pair of eyes and I screamed again out of fright but it was Gabriel, Ola, David, Chuka, Susan and Folake looking over me. Folake splashed cold water on my already wet face, from the look of things; she had been doing that for a while.
Susan held my hand; oh my God we thought you were going to die and we were so scared, thank God you are alive. Are you ok??? I said I was. I got up from the bed and went straight to the fridge because I needed food so badly and was really thirsty too. They all followed me into the kitchen, staring at me as if I were a ghost.

I looked back at them and asked how long I had been sleeping for and they all replied in chorus; 43 hours.


Wednesday, 16 July 2008

JUST the two of US... YOU and I

No! Come back here, yeah! Come on, now, look into my eyes. Tell me, what do you see?

I see the reflection of my beautiful appearance.

I am not going to look into your eyes to tell you that you are beautiful. I would look into your eyes and in your eyes I would see me, the beautiful me.

Earlier today in your tan linen shirt and white linen trousers with cute flat leather slippers just like I like, you pulled me into your arms, looked into my eyes, pulled me back and slapped me hard on the cheek. I bruised inside and tighten my eyelids afraid that blood would be what would run from my eyes down my chin. That, I cannot bare for you to see.

Yesterday it was calm, one of the calm times we share together, wrapped up in each other with you beautifully stroking my hair while we flick from Family guy to South park. Well it was that until you got a call from her. Your wife. I already knew not to make any sound because as it is you are meant to be in Beijing.

Last night while I thought we would make love but you my dear started slow and ended with me hurting all over with bruises all over my body. We started like this and I loved you for it. I loved that you are the animal you are but last night I understood why I was bruised, I know I shouldn’t have asked you if you wanted a glass of juice while you were on the phone. Truly I thought you were off the phone, I had no intention interrupting your call, I feel no jealousy for your wife, true saying, I feel sad for her because I know you treat her like you treat me but I know she can’t handle you. I don’t understand why she cannot just let you go, let me have you because I understand you better.

Today I look into your eyes and I tell you I am beautiful, that is what you want to hear, you say you love the combination of my green, purple and red face. You always said you loved the rainbow. I know my colours are not of the rainbow but honey, same difference. I wished so much that it could have been, we could try tonight darling.

Of course honey bun, we could try tonight but unfortunately I have to go back to my wife, she went into labour this morning, I think she is born so I need to go see what I have this time around. If she’s a girl, I would name her after you gorgeous and I would make her my little girl.

NB: This is 100% fictional. I love writing in first person. actually as it is, all my stories are in first person.

Sunday, 13 July 2008

1 year on...THE CAGED BIRD.

One year on blog and I still have not done what I came here for. I have so much bubbling up in me, so many things bottled up. I keep having rants that don’t mean a thing but it’s all fantastic still. Everything’s lesson learned.

Blogville especially has found a way to bring out the truth in people. That which you thought you could hide in pseudonyms alas still shows in between the lines of your words.

Blog for me has been a place where I can be totally free to say anything I really want to say having selfless fun in the process. I try so hard never to get serious on here because people already refer to me has their mother. Funny I know, bottom line in the outside world I am too serious. I have just a few friends that I am really selfless with. But hiding behind the screen and keyboard makes it easy for every one to bring out the silliness in them.

What an irony that we all started on blogger to be free but it has proved to be the other way round. Freedom is so tight in here that it becomes like an airless cage we all struggle to breath in.

What a shame that people you interact with on a friendly fondly level come back as anonymous to bite you in the bum. Now every one of us look behind our shoulders before we write anything down. We all pretend we don’t really care what people think of us but as soon we put our fingers on the keys to type the table turns. The next thing on your mind is wondering which one of these people would come back as an anonymous to spite you. Freedom on blogville is like cinema in prison. Impossible.
Though there is one thing we all cannot bring ourselves to admit, we all refuse to believe that these people we refer to as anonymous are simply bloggers amongst us. Aint it funny? Oh how broken hearted some of us would be if one day blogger broke down and alas the veil hiding all the anonymous is revealed, am sure the names that would come out would be more painful than surprising. It just goes further to say that there are friends and there are a lot of people who claim to be so, that is basic living.

I am thankful because no matter what it is that happens I would rather be quiet than not be true to myself. I have learned so much through the months I have spent on here.

1. You choose who you want to be; you can either be yourself or live someone else's life.
2. Freedom lies within you: you choose to be true to yourself or live for others.
3. Wherever you go, people are all the same: vindictive, spiteful and quick to judge.

This does not depict the fact that there are no good true people, I know a lot of people are really wonderful and beautiful but even amongst roses you have thorns.

Through the months, I have seen how creative people carefully construct their deliveries, how extremely jobless some people can be and how shallow minded people write anonymously. What ever cannot be written in pseudonym is not worth writing at all. (isn't that such an irony as the two live under the same roof?)

However so far, I’ve had smiles, laughs, fun times like the blogville idol (even though sey una no vote for me. I still dey vex sha but in the spirit of honesty, y'all are forgiven) and cries (yes cries! Dear Seun made me cry so hard) on blogville. It has been wonderful to read what people write.

To everyone who have remained true to self. It’s an honour to come in contact with you at all.
To all those who are fonies; are you sure that part is where you want to be?
To the anonymous who think being anonymous make you invincible; that is just clowny and you just beat yourself in your own game because writing in pseudonyms is anonymous in itself.

And so one year on and I cannot bring myself to write what I truly came here for because unconsciously I have become a caged bird.

Monday, 7 July 2008



From Abbie's mind blowing voice to 30+'s fantastic intro.

This is the unmissable.

In between all the love. Hey! don't forget to vote Lighty.


SO I MADE IT TO THE 2ND ROUND WITH SIX VOTES. haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa una no do well oh. Come on people, upon all the charity work i did for all of you, you still passed lighty by???

For those of you who voted, i really appreciate your love. I know it was not clear enough to hear me, but your loyalty to me i cherish. Others who didnt vote, well do not wallow in your guilt, here comes another chance for you to do so. In the morning, naija songs are up and hopefully you would hear me clearly this time round and do wot good people do, VOTE!!!

thanks every1, it has been so much fun so far, and it continues.

N.B: to vote for lighty, how do you want it? In cash or labour? (kishi dey ooo, dont watch that and i cook and clean goooooooooood, as in finger liking stuvvs and spotless apartments). So however we want to make this happen, by force and fire, e go shele. lol!

luv y'all I really do. peace.

For me dear people it is game over. I really appreciate you booting my out oh, y'all did very well, I am happy I did not start the cleaning of houses yet and to those of you who took my money, can I have my money back please? The money was for a purpose; that I win blogville idol, that purpose did not come to pass. So as I carry out my luggage, I need my money for transport. oya give mi my monie.

with all said and done it was mad fun while it lasted. Now am happy the got the promotion of being a judge. he he he he.