BEHIND CLOSED DOORS

Arise o compatriots, Nigeria call obey, our national anthem sing. For 62 years we have sang this anthem with nothing to show for it. We have sung it as just the lyrics of a common song. The only service we give to our country is to go for NYSC. Even in that one year, we don't really serve. I mean, why serve when we can easily split our allawee between ourselves and those in authority? What happened to serving with love and strength and faith? This has become a fallacy; we only serve in capacities that favour us directly or indirectly. Our full strength is seen when we serve people we know, people who tip us, and people with whom we exchange our service for something in return. What about poor Nigerians with neither silver nor gold? What happens to them?  Okay! How about serving with love? LOVE? You've got to be kidding; are you not in Nigeria? Yes, I'm in "the Nigeria" where love is described as a scam. To say "I love you" translates to "I want some

The sun was beginning to find its way out into the open sky. It was 11am, almost time for the close of the second mass. Ann is seen walking towards the chapel where her daughter is seated patiently waiting for her. "We can go now," she said. Finally, Katrina let out a sigh of relief, she muttered. Adjusting her seatbelt in her mother’s Volvo, she asked, "Did you see Aunty Becca? Her mom replied, “No my darling, but she sent me a message.” Thank you for reminding me. I will give her a call once we get home to reschedule. Becca and Ann had become pretty close. Ann wasn’t one to make friends, but in some ways she found a sister in Becca, and that friendship has blossomed and even extended towards their kids. She met Becca at the grocery store on one of those days. She was having a sapa episode but needed to buy something for her child to eat. Becca found her crying in front of the counter while staring at the things she needed but couldn’t afford. She quickly co

This is more powerful than we can imagine, because it seeps into your subconscious without you knowing or having control over it. I confirmed the power of influence today. My brother is a fan of Chris Brown, so everyday you must hear him play “Under the Influence". You know that jam nau, yeah that one that brings a lot of erotic thoughts to the mind, but that’s not where I am driving at. Everyday he plays it while doing his press ups. Even after the exercise you will still hear the jam 5 or 6 times in a day. It was part of his routine.  This is a typical behavior of every human when it comes to playing their favorite song. It will be on repeat to the point where the lyrics eventually fall off from the beat. So today while he turned on the song, it was on repeat as usual, mom first started humming the song, then she picked a bit of the lyrics. You know that part where he sang “baby, you can ,ride it, ooh, yeah" mumsy sang “oh aay, oh yeah". She practical threw

OUTNUMBERED A fiery house is seen abandoned in a space painted with marks of dead bodies. Screeches of finger nails can be seen on the wall, with traces of faint blood oozing around the place.  What mattered to Alex the most was getting his pound of flesh from Katrina, no matter the place. All those days Alex had been restless, sleep felt like a chore to him, and he wished and prayed that the days would move faster, faster than the speed of light, so that Sunday could come around again for Uncle Mark to drive him in his faded blue jeep.It seems like the wind took his whispers of prayer to the universe. Sunday came by with Uncle Mark no where to be found. A burst of laughter is heard from within him, his opposer was laughing at the disappointment his facial features held. Alex’s heart beating so fast like a jet plane screeching over his head ready to punch his reflection in the mirror. His mom Rebecca had called out to him to let him know about the change of plans while he w

Dee had died in his sleep, how did this happen? We spoke about going to sign that music contract first thing in the morning. He was just about to start living his dreams. Ahhh, Mr Mba, how do I explain to Mr Mba that worked his ass off to get us this slot, that Dee he saw yesterday was dead. Emerie was just 15 years old, full of life and grace. Her smile could make a stammerer stutter. The only crime she committed was to hawk pure water on the highway after school. But she was only trying to help her sick widowed mother with the bills. Now she’s gone, her life, ended by a crazy trailer driver who was too impatient to wait in the traffic. Dagrin, oh I loved his music. I loved how he turned real life issues into lyrics that brought hope to our shattered country. He’s dead too but his songs live on. Just few weeks back, he was declared wanted in a country for a crime. “A corpse wanted". I used to hear tales of death, never really understood until it reached my door step a

Maybe I lost it! Maybe I lost it because, it was never mine in the first place. The more I tried to hold on to it, the eager it was to leave my hand. How do you hold on to something that doesn’t want to be kept? I’ve tried, I have chased, I have cried, I’ve prayed. What’s left to do? Don’t call me careless! You don’t know the whole story. Because you found it doesn’t make me a careless owner. But hey, you can keep it. There’s nothing left for me in there. I think I’m just done you know. Done with the drama, mind games, back and forth, lies, arguments and all. Don’t blame me for giving up. There is a limit to what a person can take. I am just fed up. My heart is tired of being mended over and over. “ I’m sorry" has lost its true meaning! Just maybe you are the lucky one, who he told about my toxicity, nagging and shortcomings. Of course he is the blameless saint, who got his heart broken by a girl who was helplessly in love with him. You know what, he is right. I was th