Chronicles of Iyale ookan

Sometimes when my head gets hot,really hot that I fear it might explode,I just hide inside the closet (abi wardrobe) and pretend to have my chronicles of Narnia moments. It is  never as easy keeping up with my "plenty kids", especially  the one who wants to have a birthday party everyday of the week ,or  the one who is hell bent on writing a thesis on why Cinderella's stepmom was wicked.what about the ones obsessed with doing a remix of the song " man is not hot"?the stifling screeches of  the "skrrahh- pap- pap ka-ka-ka skidiki pap skrrah"will torment the living day out of you. When such moments reach their apex I will jejely enter self preservation mode and hide inside the cupboard. A mathematical equation illustration of my kids will be( 1child  = 10children's energies ;mental and physical). My phones are not spared either .The ordeals my phones have gone through in the hands of my kids in course  of their growing years can only be better...

Since every country in Africa always insist that they have the friendliest people in the Continent, I'm just going to go with that flow. But in all honesty ,Mozambicans are very warm people.Though not as animated as my naija folks but their hospitality, interests and smiles the people extended to me as a visitor (abi tourist) made it a remarkable experience in the country. Maputo train station Though Portuguese is widely spoken,most Mozambicans I came in contact with were able to communicate in English ,often times in smattering English and in all  my interactions with the people ,the intriguing and curious case of Mr kerebou clearly stood out. Mr kerebou,who owns a grocery shop around the corner, always  (strongly) insist that he doesn't understand English, but at  few times when he gets carried away, his English vocabulary, diction and that American accent are usually (almost suspiciously) impeccable that I often ponder ...abi homeboy is on some witness protectio...