A Feast for the Broken.

Softly, tears trickled down her face

The burden of the world on her name

How could she live? 

Not knowing what’s up his sleeve

Slowly, gently she brought herself to sleep

Forcefully, tactfully it just wouldn’t gree

Depressed and sad, a thought came

Yes, she knew it was lame

With her tired heart and fired brain

Her efforts and pleas all in vain

She had loved a beast

Now her heart is throwing a feast

A feast for the broken

Buffet for the shattered

Her mind the plate

Her heart on the table

Silently, purposefully, she trudged

Out of her home, tired of grudge

Chilly wind, snowy night

Never gave way to unwelcomed fright

Distance lengthened, darkness envelope-d

A noose in the distance made from a rope

Unflinching, in haste she proceeded not to mend

Climbing the steps to her very end.

Hey guys, I really just tried some funny rhymes with this one. I hope you enjoy it. 

Thank you so much for following me on my writing journey. You’re very much appreciated. Love y’all.

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Siamese.

This or That BOOK TAG.

Nyse at  Heyitsnyse, a beautifully talented and sweet soul nominated me for this tag that was created by Ayunda at Tea & Paperbacks. It’s fun, it’s witty, the questions though simple are tactically difficult to answer but answer them we must. Visit their pages, you won’t be disappointed.

          

The Rules:

  • Mention the creator of the tag
  • Thank the blogger who tagged you!
  • Choose one of the options, you don’t have to tell the reasons why you chose that but you can if you want to.
  • Tag 10 other people to do this tag to spread the love!

Questions:

1.  Reading on the couch or in the bed?

I read at any time as long as I’m not busy with classes or some weird take-homes. At Night, I read on the bed.On mornings and noons when I’m home, on a couch or on a library chair when it’s an addendum after studying.  All can be enjoyable at different times but I prefer the couch, with blankets and a cup of juice or yoghurt.

2.  Main Male Character, or Main Female Character. 

Somehow, I would have just instinctively picked female because I’m one but I prefer male characters. Unless our female protagonist is not solely represented for her ability to catch “bugs” (we all know the type of bugs I’m talking about here).

3.  Sweet Snacks or Salty Snacks

Sweet Snacks ofcourse. Cookies, chocolates, apples,  won’t miss them. Not that I don’t like Pringles and crackers but I have a sweet tooth especially when I’m in that zone.

4.  Trilogies or Quartets

Would have picked none but I have to choose so Trilogies it is.

5.  First Person POV Or Third Person POV?

Definitely third person. First Person POVs can be boring, yes, because you get to read only what the character sees, feels and experiences. Third Person can be confusing sometimes but when it’s well written it’s the best.

6.  Reading At Night Or In The Morning

My habit is such that whenever I want to eat, it’s either I watch something or read something. Most of the time it’s the latter. Asides that, reading at night is my specialty (not that if I get a chance to during the day I won’t grab it).

7.  Libraries or Bookstores

Bookstores. I’m a bibliophile afterall. The libraries I know don’t foster freedom, you can’t check the books and explore contents. True they have loads of books in various genres which you can borrow but I’d rather have my own collection.

8.  Books That Make You Laugh Or Books That Make You Cry?

I love adventures and thrillers and the emotions that come with reading such books. I’m a weird person you know why, I smile when things are going really wrong or when a bad guy is about to be caught or all those crazy psychotic things in novels but laughing hysterically with a book that was made for that purpose, no. It’s amazing though, how a person can make people feel so much mixed up emotions with their words. 

9.  Black Book Cover Or White Book Covers

It’s difficult to pick one of these because I love both but I have to pick one anyway. White it is.

10. Character Driven Series or Plot Driven Series

It’s totally dependent on how the author develops the story but I’d go for plot driven  series.

Character Driven Series (that are well written ofcourse) are cool too but I think it’s a serious task developing stories without clichés and overused lines.           

Nominees:

                                                    



The Versatile Blogger Award.

Zenyswords, I really can’t thank you enough for nominating me again. It really is a pleasant surprise and an honour too. I’ve procrastinated doing this for a really long time, forgive me please. You guys should visit her blog and “snack” on her awesome pieces. So on to the main thing;

The Rules:

  • Thank the person who nominated you.
  • Share the award on your blog.
  • Share 7 random facts about you.
  • Tag 5 bloggers with less than 1000 followers.
  • Let them know that they have been nominated.

Ohhhhh,  The facts, Ta-da! (Let’s keep it short):

  • I have a really small circle of friends (true friends that is).
  • I’m as friendly as I’m strict.
  • I absolutely do not like to be kept waiting.
  • I love children.
  • I’m very muslim and very hijabi.
  • Book fanatic and collector, oh yes!
  • I close up very easily especially when hurt (bad I guess but what can a girl do?)

The Nominees are:

                                                       

This post has been super outstanding. Forgive me please.

                                                     

Maroon [A Short Story]

Abby has been married for two years but only one thought had occupied her mind. The dark clad figure that had showed up at her home that night, her ex job in criminal division definitely had its down side. “I loved you but you betrayed me”, he had said,”you won’t last here”. “I’d kill you”, he had concluded flatly, “when you least expect”.
Two years ago, these words words had bothered her and had till now haunted her memory. Paranoia at its peak, every little sound activates her adrenaline, any tiny movement makes her cringe. Whenever she’s alone at night, she tiptoes around the house and looks through every window.  Her restlessness was contagious.  

Few months into the third year, she got pregnant. “Hey honey, I ran a home test today and I got the double lines”, she beamed, “we’re having a baby”. “Oh my….wow, that’s wonderful “, Ed said excitedly, “papa, I’d have a child call me papa”, he laughed. Abandoning the rack he was fixing, he gazed lovingly at his beautiful wife. The neck-breaking beauty haven’t lost her charms at all. Today, she looked even lovelier because of this great news. He walked towards her in two long strides and knelt. He placed both his hands on her belly and whispered, “hang in there buddy, don’t trouble your mama ok!”. He rose and Abby could feel the joy radiate through him; his smile, the twinkle in his eyes exposed it all. 

Gradually, as the days passed, his memory faded. She no longer felt the need to watch her back. She was going to be a mum, a new life awaited her. She lived a happy, content life then she had a beautiful baby girl. “She’d be Belle”, she said lovingly looking at her chubby girl, “she’s so beautiful”. Ed smiled,”ofcourse she is”, he affirmed proudly, “her mum is too”. He took little Belle’s tiny hand and watched her sleep peacefully for a while, love welled up inside of him. “She’s mine”, he thought to himself, “mine” a smile visibly playing on his lips. Leaving her crib, he moved to Abby’s bed and planted a kiss on her forehead, “thank you”, he said with tears in his eyes, ” I love you”. She smiled that toothy girly smile, “for what Ed?….I love you too”, she managed to say before she fell asleep. 

Hours later, she woke up to find Ed fast asleep by her bed, hugging their interlocked hands closely to his chest. She smiled, “you’re one good man Ed”, she thought to herself. Carefully untangling their hands, she made her way to the window. “It’s a beautiful world out here”, she thought. From her vantage spot, she could feel the warmth of the sun. She gazed at the stretch of land before her. A huge chunk of the land was mostly filled and groomed with beautiful scented flowers; jasmines, frangipanis, lilacs, gardenias, roses, lilies, lavenders, the collection was breathtaking. Amidst these flowers, were bench like constructions for those who need to enjoy some juice alongside the cool evening breeze. To the far right was a stream, that somehow meandered it’s way around some parts of the garden. Trees were at strategic points that it would be difficult to believe which it was for; aesthetics or shade. To the left, there were some cabins, which they probably use as their storage rooms and neatly packed bins. The air was fresh, the environment was serene. From an hospital room,  that scenery was well planned. “I’m sure this was part of the reasons they had good recommendations”, she thought to herself. 

As she made to leave, she caught sight of a movement in the nearby bush. Turning back, she saw him. “How did…”, she tried to say but saw him mouthing something that would have sounded like, “I’m watching you”. She watched him laugh hysterically. Slowly, she backed away from  the window and ran towards Ed. “Wake up”, she said frantically as she tried desperately to pull his head away from the bed. “I saw a woman….no a man….”, she began disoriented, “just come look”. Sleepily, he walked to the window. There was no one in sight. “He was…..was…..right here”, she stammered. Unable to contain her fear, she burst into tears. “Three years ago, he promised to kill me”, she tearfully revealed, “that night we got married. I had thought it was a joke, an empty threat after two years and I forgot about it”, she continued, “now he’s here again Ed, he’s really going to kill me”. “This….this happened and I didn’t know”, he said with disbelief, “who is he? Why does he want to kill you?”, he continued  lost for words. With streams of tears now pouring out of her eyes, she answered,”I don’t know, I really don’t know”. “We have to get the police dear”, he managed to say and pulled his wife into his comforting embrace.

                                                    **************

To be continued…. (I divided this because I realized people have absolutely zero enthusiasm when it comes to reading lengthy posts.)
NB: I didn’t expect to write this because I don’t  consider myself a storyteller but I do hope you enjoy this. I’m open to comments and constructive criticisms.

Just For Gags…

Africa is one beautiful,  enchanting and diverse continent. That’s a lot of colours in the various cultures and traditions; a lot of romp and pomp in our festivities and not to forget the carefully prepared, parotid-inducing, jaw-dropping delicacies prepared to graze our palates.
If you’ve ever been to a party before (and i mean our Nigerian parties), you’d notice the varieties of things people do. Right now, I’m not all about the invited. The cooks we hire, take some time to check them out. When they’re about to chow, they grab a stool, take some food (rice especially) and their fingers start working their ways between the grains of rice and their gob. Well maybe this is due to the fact that as Africans, we believe the hand is nature’s cutlery. I still don’t know how to eat rice with my fingers after successive attempts though. I wonder how I’d learn to use chopsticks then (I’m not giving up). Je suis Nigerienne, so why not? 

Recently, I was fortunate to have attended a conference and I couldn’t help but notice a few things especially how people devoured their meals,  relishing every bit of it. Their mouth movements and tongue actions provided a fantastic scenery for one with a purpose such as mine (God help me). You see, I’ve been looking to find an avenue to observe this but I almost always found my position too revealing. But here, my partially enclosed space was perfect. No one was there to question my antics so I was fine (freedom at last!).

Most of the time, except you grill your chicken/turkey at home or you get at eateries, if you’re being supplied food for an event, the topping is super fried and I mean super fried be it fish, beef or chicken. You know, super fried is cool if you want to eat one piece endlessly but to think that this is served at official functions, these people are impossible.  An average Nigerian would reveal his posh side when he’s at functions like that. On top of the extensively fried “animal”, they’d gift you fork and knife (instead of a bowl of water, in my opinion). 

Now back to our conference. These two elderly men were served, what was it again! , rice with our nicely fried chicken and every other condiment a person could possibly want. Beside their plates were carefully arranged cutleries. They grabbed their forks and knives and started munching. I was lazily tapping away on my phone, giving them absolutely minute attention until I heard two things; the sounds their mouths were making (don’t judge me) and the noisily insistent sounds their forks and knives were making with the delicate ceramic. I took 5 minutes to watch them battle with the “chicken” in question. They used some monstrous energy trying to cut this pieces that I sat in wonderment, mouth agape. “Why stress yourself this much when you can use your hands”, I thought to myself and to think that 65% of this would reside in the trash was disturbing. 

Eons later(exaggerated), they finished up, tidied themselves and left. The leftover chicken still on the plates. Life is a never ending series, you watch new episodes everyday. As for me though, after carefully noting the absence of people,  I tore at my chicken like a famished canivore. Wicked hunh, yeah😆.

PS: This was just to provide for a nice read and not to insult anyone in the process.

Another PS: It doesn’t necessarily have to be funny.

We Mend Ourselves!

#DailyPost Born and bred by no-nonsense parents, we all grew up thinking we’ve been made. In our self-reliance, we think we have what it takes to not be morally lax. Parents believe they have done the best jobs; their strictness – their positive push, so they think.
In my not too short life, I’ve observed that the rigidity, most of the time is counterproductive. Yes, parents try, they really do but the methods they employ go long way in moulding an individual. “The strictest parents have the most secretive kids” – whether I read this up somewhere or cooked it up, I remember not but one thing I realize is this is truer than true. Individuals in this category could adopt two different lifestyles; one of advancement and another of regression.
Asides parental influence, most people mould themselves (with the help of God, that is). Inflicted with the disease – “peer influence”, not all those brought up by high handed parents thrive. I’ve realized that a lot of people take their lives into their hands. Beyond what they have been raised to be, they add functional values to themselves. Building and rebuilding oneself, I tell you, is not an easy task. Staying sane is so much more difficult than being a slapdash.
Another thing I’ve noticed is the vulture culture people have adopted, quick to point out people’s errors. Sometimes, people make costly mistakes before they “come back”, so what. We are all made humans, we would make mistakes and we, most definitely, would learn from them. Who we are now is what matters not who we were.
I stumbled upon this beautiful piece on Instagram yesterday;

“She was a beautiful piece of broken pottery, put back together by her own hands. And a critical world judges her cracks while missing the beauty of how she made herself whole again – J.M. Storm”

Just like cracks give a pot some queer beauty, scars make a person beautiful. It is proof that one has lived. It is an evidence of ones’ imperfections.

One thing I know is life is a learning process. You build and rebuild yourself every step of the way. As they say! “Change is constant”, humans are no exception.

Sorry this came a little late. Network is a botch around here.

GLOOM.

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Not everything in life happens as planned. Sometimes, the good happens; we rejoice, we laugh, we glow and bask in happiness. Other times, the not too good happens; we’re sad, we cry, we lose hope (sometimes) and we’re depressed. All these experiences, good or horrible, are what strengthens us. Just as an ECG have peaks and troughs, so is life. We can’t have it all perfect and no matter how we hard we try, we can’t have it all figured out. We can only picture what we want, it’s up to the almighty to make it a reality. If things are bad today, don’t falter, your sunny days are just around the corner and if things are good, enjoy it whilst thanking Him. Life’s not a rollercoaster, it’s not always going to be an easy ride. So when life presents its dark side, know that He’s there somewhere saving the best for you. So instead of being sad, say to yourself “these are just my dark days, my sunny days are soon to come”.