god men

Let me tell you a story
Of valor gone sour
Of once free men now slaves
To base human emotions
And to pride turned humility.

You know time flies
When the very things that once defined the depths of our freedom
Now mark the boundaries of our bondage
When the ones who were once the symbol of bravery
Now cower for fear of the abstract

We the people they say
Leaders of the free world they banter
Heads held high with fancy bureaucracy
Shoulders puffed from all that bespoke
While eyes flow with tears ceaseless
At the passing of innocence

2nd Amendment or Gun control?
Pride or common sense?
Sense not so common anymore
The debacle rages and the blood like wine still flows
The royal visits happen
And then the pretense resumes

Come, young one, pay heed, listen
When men begin to think of themselves as gods
Let wisdom subdue you
When they pause to think their ideas larger than life
Trust that the veteran hunter knows
A bird in hand, will always be worth more

This is not a story of how it began…it is a story of how it ends




If the galaxies have organized a celestial olympic event of some sort, our sun is clearly winning.

One can see the shimmering haze of the sun’s heat as clearly as though he were close to a raging fire. The flies are refusing to let up too. I imagine this is how the desert feels.

My scalp has felt things that makes me wish I had a baseball cap nearby yet, everywhere I look I see normally clad people (with no caps or umbrellas) who dare to step out of their homes in this heat walking, hawking and quite leisurely I might add.

And then there are the others who I feel just have to make ends meet.

Just another day in Kogi.

I’ve been cuddled up inside dear Ebenezer (our vehicle’s name) watching, listening to the sound of traffic as the big commercial lorries and the small commercial cars pass by…writing. Everything seems to be commercial in these parts. The shed Ebenezer provides is quite frankly heavenly and I’m grateful for it. And though she’s the reason we’re still stuck here in the first place, I can’t complain really…duty.

I have been thirsty for hours. I dare not step out. I think I’ll wait until I can bear it no longer.

IPP has busied himself with his headphones…”play music and forget your troubles” as he likes to say to me. Occasionally he brings up money matters too.

Moses is just there being…well, Moses. Watching like a hawk, every move the mechanics make, all the while complaining about how they’re not doing everything they can to make the work go faster. I cannot help but smile at this.

“Play music and forget your troubles”

I sometimes envy Moses. How very quickly he manages to get involved in any situation where help is required…or where he thinks it is. Ngumoha and I sometimes make jokes about this…still very often in those situations much like this one, I sit around looking clueless while I wait for him to work the magic.

To be clear, this is not just a matter of jumping into those situations. It takes skill and perception to detect where the help is needed when every other person would rather sit around and fend for themselves. He is akin to a striker who has honed himself in the art of being in the right places at the right times in order to get the goals. For him, there is no other way of life.

This is a tribute to him.

In the meantime, National President et al have called. Other school executives too. I’m grateful for this family (CMDA Nigeria).
I hope we leave here soon before mummy starts to freak out …or I develop heat stroke.

PS. The above is just a capture of some moments. It does not tell the whole story. I have since managed to find some use for myself.

“This is a tribute to him”

Idle thoughts

I dislike school
I dislike teachers
I dislike the children who go to learn to cry more
So when they said we were to rest
I was very pleased

Mother cries quite a lot now too
People come to the house to whisper things to her
Then they smother me with tight hugs
Frankly, I just want to watch my cartoons in peace
Where is chisom anyway? He normally watches with me

Mother looks at me quite fiercely these days
She has a fire in her eyes
Much like the one I give chisom when he touches my cereal box
It’s all so confusing
Yet it feels very safe

Today the men in black came first
And then the cars, with sirens blazing
There’s a man with mom now
He seems important
He’s quite loud, not whispering like the others

Come where is chisom?
Come and see this loud man o!
He has been talking a lot to mom about guns and control
Mom says guns are bad
She says they make people sleep forever


My future addictions: a peek

Wee morning hours…

I just came across a post by middleclassnigeriangirl (the lass has caught my heart) where she writes about her social media life. It was a really fun read and subsequently I downloaded Pinterest to my phone…you might have heard of it. Still not sure of that decision but, I’ve heard people gush nice things about the app. Anyway, here I am, new user barely a few minutes old and I’m creating a “board” tagged “my future shoe addiction”…Lol. And because Pinterest is basically a platform that lets you collect ideas it gave me the idea for this post!

“My future shoe addiction”

Is that even a thing? Future addictions? Like do people actually plan for them? My answer would be “yes!” I guess all I have just done is give it a name and now a post. In my head, I think it’s a hyperbole I have given to a certain number of things that I couldn’t possibly afford to achieve at this point in my life but, wouldn’t mind doing so in the future…because then I’d definitely be able to afford them. And addiction might be a strong word but i hope you can relate.

Now this is the part where I tell you to be careful how you see this post, especially if you are a very spiritual person (like I’m aspiring to be) or even just a lifelong conservative because your chances of not misinterpreting it are actually slim to none and for this I am truly sorry😚.

However, in a bid to allay your fears, i would say this: In your mind’s eye you probably see a silly boy who has quite knowingly set for himself traps in which he’ll most likely get caught and with no hope of respite. In mine, I see one who has “known” addictions and will forever be wary of them but who also has a very vivid picture of what a good life should be and feel like.

I am just here to paint you that picture as I see it and so without further ado…


Who doesn’t love a good pair of shoes? Monks maybe but excluding them who else? My love however goes a little deeper than that of the average person and also unfortunately, more than my pocket can afford at this time. So, i shelf it…for the time appointed.

So I shelf it…for the time appointed

I imagine a walk-in closet packed to the brim with well arranged (because obviously they can’t be scattered all over the place…they expensive😩).

Christian Louboutin brogue shoes, Nike rosheruns, Air Jordans, Adidas yeezy boosts, Balenciagas and what have you! Definitely some red bottoms too. Like a personal shoe collection. Just because they are nice and it’s nice to have nice sturvs.


I use headphones as a general term depicting all the stuff you play music over and if you are a music lover such as myself the list will generally tend to play out in your head. This one I already started howbeit on a much smaller scale. You can always trust me to go for the more expensive one of two earpieces on display. My reasoning? “The more expensive one just has to sound better”🤒.

It literally amazes me when I see people preoccupied with a just “anyhow” headphone and apparently enjoying the music too😐. It’s hard to imagine falling completely in love with “the glory album” on just any headphones and these are pretty average! Just saying. Sound quality is everything. You never know what you’re missing until you switch it up. Add the skull candies, beats by dre and B&O’s to my collection (just the thought of them!).

The more expensive one will always sound better


My uncle once told us (very important people too) that the really rich men can only be distinguished by their shoes and watches…not necessarily apparel. Whether this is true I cannot say but safe to say that good watches bring a sense of healthy self-esteem and flair without even trying! I have always been a sucker for mechanical watches because they stand out, even the not so expensive ones. Sometimes, I think it best to wear just a bracelet in the stead of a watch with little value unless said value is the sentimental kind. Enough said. Add rolexes to my collection.


Again, who doesn’t love a nice, expensive, flashy car? Me…I’m more of a diamond in the rough kinda guy when it comes to them. I don’t necessarily want a plane or a helicopter or a yacht. If you gimme any of them though, I’ll thank you (who no like better thing?). With cars, i don’t play around. Safe to say, I already have my list but this one i will not be revealing for the sake of all these monitoring spirits😒. Seriously, pressure is off…I don’t need stress in my life. Imagine having a jeep wrangler though, beauty in ruggedness! Definitely my kind of car.

And so folks, with these few points of mine I’d like to call it a wrap on this one and try to get some sleep. I’m not greedy, just ambitious.

Life lessons: Dear reader, ambitions are not a bad thing to have. A vivid picture of them written down is even better. This way you’ll learn to work towards them from your youth.

Christianity is not a lifelong sentence of poverty as some have sadly come to believe! Be properly guided.

And even if you don’t manage to accomplish all that you’ve set out to do or possess, we are not judged as successes or failures based on these things. More tangible goals exist.

PS. I’d love to know what your own future addiction(s) (again…hyperbole🙂) would look like.

#lifelessons #lifegoals #futureaddictions

Efficient living: my sentiments on duct tape

Beautiful Saturday afternoon. Missed much of the morning from all that sleep.
So, when it began, I said it was to develop myself, my writing and to expand my horizons. Oh_ each time I pick up my pen, I still am scared of what the end product might look like but… it’s happening.
What I didn’t say however was what the content would look like and because I didn’t promise anything, I can write about all the crap that pops into my head.

For example, this morning afternoon, I’m thinking it’s funny how the little things we neglect or just randomly overlook go on to have very profound impacts in our lives…or not. Depending on how you want to see it.

Like ehmm…failure to do that little laundry on a weekend and then consequently, you barely have anything to wear midweek
…or refusing to dispose off that little basket of thrash until your room could as well be one giant incinerator or….failing to refill those water bottles as you use until they’re piled up and littered all over the place and now you have to drink directly from the tap because you just can’t deal😥….worse still, not waking up early enough on a Saturday morning to warm that ‘precious’ food and maybe you just might have kept it from going bad_I think I might cry😢

The list goes on and by the way, if you haven’t already figured it out, this is all me ☝️

I swear sometimes I think I’m mostly a slacker trapped in the body of a somewhat above average medical student and that I’d really do well taking life one day at a time as opposed to all the planning and worrying that tags along. God is still helping me.

One thing I’ve got working for me though is “duct tape”.
Duct tape as in the symbol of all that is temporary, insignificant and often generally overlooked…but also of my willingness to fix just about anything that is broken myself as opposed to spending a lot of valuable naira either seeing a self-acclaimed expert or replacing them things with new ones (new ones with inflated prices).

Ps. I also have screwdrivers and testers and they all fit the profile I’m trying to expand on but I think duct tape is more universal and a lot safer.

To say it has found usefulness in just about every sphere of life would not be an exaggeration. And as this is not intended to be a chronicle on the uses of the thing, i will not badger on. However, as of my last check, I have managed to get my headphones working again with duct tape after months of neglect (oh the joy of It! 😄😄😄)

…I have kept my mop stick from falling apart with duct tape (the thing is relatively new too…no way I was getting another one😏)
…and the shower head in the bathroom has benefited too. Maybe there is more…I can’t be sure, but you get the point?

Imagine I had to replace all these things and every other thing that decides to spoil just because my villagers think I now have money😩

Don’t get me wrong. Sometimes it is good to see an expert…contribute to the nation’s GDP and all…I’m not new to this. In fact I would consider myself a Lord in this aspect. But think of all the stress and money you’d have managed to save yourself by just getting a roll of duct tape…Lol.

And no matter how temporary the fix, duct tape is relatively cheaper than any other solution. It’s a no brainer really.

Life lessons: Dear reader, the fact that you have money to spend does not necessarily make it “the most making sense thing” to do. Some things you can do for yourself and reap the benefits plus the feeling of all those endorphins coursing through your body😋…giving you a sense of self-worth and high esteem; making you realize you’re not just all that, but so much more…it’s priceless.

A slave’s muse

Let me muse on the musings of my head.

Let me pass judgement as I see fit.
For even though it would have no consequences, it would still be mine.
A judgement passed on nature or the gods _ these days I’m not sure what I believe.
And if all I have are my teeth, then I’d gnaw the guilty to within an inch of their life.
Yes, I’d do that.

Do you understand? Do you understand how my head works?

I am the slave.
My callused palms tell a tale, a tale of being spent.
My ragged back tells its own, of stripes countless. And my mind? Broken. Just like they’ve always wanted.

I wasn’t always like this. I wasn’t always despised.

I had mother, the warmth of her love and the kindness her soup pot provided.
I had father, his tough love and the responsibilities for which I had to be guided.
I had Nneoma and Ego, the ones for whom I’d rather spend and be spent.

I was the first son of a first son.

I wasn’t always like this, I wasn’t always despised.

But then the wars came and to the victor went the spoils.
That’s how I feel, spoiled. Who is it that decides these matters of war? The one who decides the fate of countless lives?
Amadioha? Or maybe Ananse? Kompe Ananse. If so, what hope is there for us, the ones who pray?

It’s been many moons since the men came, chests wide as palm trees.

Tubers, goats and sisters carted away for free.
Whatever happened to father and mother? Now I know a new life, much akin to cannon fodder.

It’s been many moons since the men came.

I have since lost track of time.
Us slaves sometimes talk.
We dare not escape, branded as we are like livestock.
But we talk nonetheless, of the things that go bump in the night.

Ikemefuna recently disappeared. He was Okonkwo’s slave.
We think we know what happened, and have long since mourned.

He had been disillusioned, of an unconditional acceptance.
We tried to warn him,
Until his blood was poured, by the one he had called father, the one he had come to love.

I have no love to spare, only hate.
So now I wait.
It’s only a matter of time until it’s my turn. I have no disillusions.

Do you understand now? Do you understand why my head works this way?

Beasts Rising

“do you believe me now? Personally I thought it was a lie but then again father never lies”

It was 3pm and Chinedu had just concluded telling yet another one of his very bogus tales. Tales of how he came from a long line of warriors, his father being the latest of them. He told them quite often and we all thoroughly enjoyed ourselves, never mind that everyone knew they were lies and how that each one of our father’s were perfect in their youthful days. Yet, the stories served as thorough entertainment and a welcome distraction from what was boarding school.

Uche and Aliyhu were dusting their now soiled knickers as I tried to return attention to the assignment I had earlier abandoned when Chinedu caught me.We all saw Femi approach. He had that anxious look on his face.

I knew we were all in trouble…again.

“What happened Femi?” it was Aliyhu in that thick Northern accent of his. He too suspected something was up.

“DSP is very upset” that was what we called the deputy senior prefect.

“he said to come and call all of you. Everybody is already kneeling down in the hostel”

It was Femi’s flaw. He didn’t know how to hide emotions or that people even should and he was quite liberal with details too.

“Not again!” Uche burst out

“look, I’m tired of this school…you people can go. I’m not coming” he paused

“don’t tell anyone you saw me” with a scowl that said it was more a warning than a suggestion and then he ran off…to wherever he always ran to.

Uche was the unruly one. Ever so often he managed to escape some of the punishments we had to suffer. Of course no one had the ‘liver’ to follow him and no one would talk. So we cowardly trudged…lambs to the slaughter.

* * * *
One look at DSP and you could tell he was in the mood…he was positively fuming.

I noticed as we stepped into into the overcrowded hostel that some fifty-something boys had come to call home, that everyone was kneeling, in all sorts of positions too_ they had been there for quite some time. We joined in.

DSP was barking something _ something about how ungrateful the bunch of us were and how we’d never change. Samson was by his side…looking frightened as always _ weaselly Samson. He deserved what had befallen him. The rest of the speech was a blur, sometimes punctuated by the occasional student proclaiming their innocence. Of course they knew better.

Here everyone was guilty until proven innocent.

Oh! Here’s the summarized gist. Samson’s parents had visited earlier in the week. The only visiting day of the month. Of course, most boys didn’t have parents buoyant enough to visit monthly… his’ were. It made him the envy of quite a lot of hungry boys and it didn’t help that he was stingy. Good ole DSP always partook of the goodies, he was the captain of the junior boys hostel after all…hence the barking. Today though, someone had raided Samson’s cupboard. It had been emptied for the most part. They think It happened during the break period. Experience had thought us that the culprit would never be found so punishment was inevitable _ inevitably terrible. The flogging ensued…Of course no one noticed Uche’s absence. It was one of those days.

* * * *
The time is 8 pm. Flogging has been over for about 3 hours now but I’m still smarting from the pain in my buttocks. DSP has promised we’ll continue tomorrow. He’s quite the genius at figuring out punishments. I find myself along the bushy path that leads to the rice farms where we go to fetch water when there is shortage…which is quite often. Emeka shouldn’t be too far away now.

As I trek, I let my mind drift. Back to Papa and Mama and Nneka. I wonder what Mama would think of me now. I imagine that Papa would be quite disappointed. All those early morning Sunday masses wasted; the strict Catholic upbringing all but forgotten. He would probably disown me if he knew. I shudder at the thought but I remind myself it’s no fault of mine.

Papa is the village blacksmith. Maybe time was when the blacksmith earned just about enough to put food on the table, but that time was no more. He must have been both quietly pleased and scared when I received the local government scholarship to attend the secondary school in the city and now I hardly receive enough by way of support. For me, there really is only one reality at the moment and hunger is much more real than the threat of a hell fire that Sunday school keeps peddling. Perhaps purgatory is possible for me. Papa would have to understand if he ever found out.

Right now Emeka is waiting and I will pawn off this tin of ‘Samson’s’ Milo for money that will be ‘mine’. I reckon Samson will survive.