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Showing posts from 2019

My Harmattan Christmas

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Christmas Eve It's almost midnight eve of Christmas and like all the few Christmas eves I have known, I battle insomnia. Uncontained excitement tugged furiously at my insides leaving me giddy with anticipation. From my bed I could hear Akin Euba's Black Bethlehem album undulating on the phonograph in the living room. I tossed and turned ceaselessly, I wasn't sure I wanted to sleep but I knew sleep was the only thing that could make time speed by. This Christmas was extra special, I was undecided why it was so.... maybe because Christmas fell on a Sunday or perhaps it was the gorgeous blue iridescent dress I will be having the ultimate priviledge of wearing tomorrow. I hadn't seen anything as magnificent as this dress in my entire childhood. The  Christmas preparation had reached a crescendo and I was knocked up with expectations. Thankfully sleep was merciful at some point and it took me to the land of dreams filled with Christmases from faraway land.  T

Americanah... The Broda Gani Connection

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This one is for Broda Gani (also known as Mr Anifowose) at bookshop street CMS Lagos for his incessant hookups. .           Broda Gani is what you would call a novel enthusiast /aficionado/hustler who loves his craft/hustle and takes it seriously... a little too seriously. His love for books (money?) is clearly evident in his impeccable marketing skills that starts before and continues even after the actual sales. It is really refreshing to see Broda Gani who read only up to form two always give a summary that is adequately animated and entertaining on whatever novel he thinks you should buy. His narration skills are on steroids as he has the supernatural ability to turn a basic and mundane paperback to an enthralling blockbuster. Now these summaries might not be err.....exactly accurate as most of his tales are heavily embellished, well...the right amount of embellishments to arouse your interest. Customer profiling is second nature to him, his ability to always "prescribe

A random act of kindness

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A single act of kindness throws out roots in all directions and the roots spring up and make new trees.  I can't remember what month it was but I remembered  how furious the sun was, probably furious at my folks who insisted I took all manners of secondary school entrance exams at primary 6. At a point I was convinced my parents were determined to make me attend two secondary schools at once. I must have written a million of those placement exams: Navy, Airforce, Command, Unity schools, Lagos State schools, Ogun state and even Gifted school in Suleja. My parents were not taking any chances and as pep talk before setting off to write those exams, my mum will remind me of my reserved opening as a tailoring apprentice in Mrs Majekodunmi 's shop at Ojuwoye junction if I dared to fail the exams. So I guess it was understandable the sun revolted on my behalf. This was in the early 90's and the sun was kinder then but on this particular day the sun vexed gan ni o. I had f

Daddy

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Happy birthday daddy. I'm sure 70 would have looked great on you.We still ache because the pang your death left in our hearts is still raw.We don't know how to heal but we are trying our best to learn how to live with the pain as time and self understanding helps numb the pain. One of my fondest memories of my dad was he introducing me to astronomy and planetology. He was such a consummate story teller, one of the finest orators that ever lived. His  stories were well prepared and relayed with so much passion,crafted with so much creativity that they transported me to other planets. His voice activated my imagination and it exploded. His stories nurtured and fed  my imagination. I didn't think there was any 7 yearold alive that was obsessed about the inner workings of the earth and the other planets as I was. I literally knew how many moons each planets each had and as an introverted kid the Milky way and Asteroids were my playground.I remembered how I begged for

Stories that touch (The concluding part)

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Our relief lasted for only some fleeting seconds as Adamu's disappearance loomed ominously,we were now burdened with the realization that the first 48hours in a missing person's case is very crucial.We knew we had to move at falcon's speed in order to bring Adamu home. Scores of concerned neighbours and sympathizer had besieged our compound, leading the pack was Mrs Adubi, we were beyond shocked at the speed of light with which that news had travelled considering the fact that Mrs Adubi had relocated to the Island two weeks prior to Adamu's disappearance . Initially when she (and her theatrics) arrived we were genuinely touched given that she and Adamu were quite cordial when she lived in our compound but as her wailings got louder we began to get concerned more like disturbed by her mourning which was more than the bereaved. Racing against time we instantly inaugurated an ad-hoc committee "Bring back our Adamu" dedicated to finding Adamu and it was no

Stories that touch (part 1)

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Prologue  This story happened a long time ago, It's a story about cageyness, caution, moderation, patience and perhaps prudence. Once upon a time, probably in the time of Olugbon and Aresa, there lived a great hunter named Soun Adamu in a relatively peaceful estate named Binukonu. Soun Adamu enjoyed hunting expedition and was well loved by all the citizens of Binukonu until he started listening to  the whispers of Esu laalu.  Hmm... Esu laalu the  purveyor of general disaster who carried gangan drum into town. As Esu laalu's whispers got louder, it slowly left Adamu's ears and migrated to his head, before we knew it, Soun Adamu was plagued with Okanjuwa (greed). Greed being the worst form of illness led Adamu like the folklore elephant who wanted to be king into the trap covered with mat... 🎶A mu erin joba.. ewekuewele... 🎶(we want to crown the elephant). HOLD UP!!!  Let's switch this up.  The modern adaptation.  OK!  Let's flip the timing of this

CRAZY RICH ASIANS

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I finally got to watch the blockbuster movie Crazy Rich Asians, I was prolly the last person in Lagos to see this movie,So I binge watched this movie over the weekend and by Monday morning, everybody I mean every dude (including Lastma officers) was starting to look like Henry Golding (the hunky leading man) in my eyes. Being a movie buff I can't really tell why I waited this long to see this movie that was released in the summer of 2018, my most likely guess will be probably because of the alternate casting as I rarely do Asian movies. Now folks, I would like to state that I saw this movie for the first time in the morning and I wasn't under any influence (not even the lagos fierce sun) meaning that since I watched this movie with "clear eyes" you might want to take my opinion about this well written and well  produced movie seriously. Well just saying.... Crazy Rich Asians is a zesty rom-com adaptation of Kevin Kwan 's bestseller book "Asians"

The Trials of Iyale ọokàn

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When some folks  in our estate decided to channel their inner aluta spirit rebelling against Nepotism, tyranny and oppression by IKEDC  I was so sure this won't end well. Nepa on the other hand kuku returned the favor and removed the "fuse" from the transformer plunging the whole estate into darkness. Now for some inexplicable reasons, folks thought I must have studied Conflict resolution and Management at the University, as I have become the "Go-to" mediator /negotiator between Nepa officers and the estate residents . But little did they know that as an ogbologbo (seasoned) Doomsday Prepper I was boyscout -ready. I knew in my heart of heart that I didn't want to spend the whole summer stalking and begging Mr Clement from the Nepa office,so kiakia I packed my bags... Maputo yaa! (ain't nobody got time for that kind of sturv😉 ). I sincerely wished the Mandela wannabes" aluta continua" knowing fully well by that by the time l returned in

AFOJUDI (EFFRONTERY)

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"Odo  ti  a baa  foju di  ni  gbe  ni  lo"..Simply put, Afojudi  is  when  you  are  in a canoe  in the  middle  of  the  sea  and  you  are singing  mami  water power ...powerless  power. As  a Yoruba girl  of  Ekiti  descent or  is  it extraction..... I thought  I had tamed  and  conquered  the  venom  and  sting  of  Chilli;  name  it  Atarado, Ataijose,Ata gigun, Ata  shombo  and  even  Cameroun  pepper. The romance  between  Ekiti  people  and  pepper  have  dated  back  time  immemorial...my  ancestors were  called  the  Atarodo  bender, The Ata-ijose  slayer,they were  the  original /undisputed  pepperdem  gang.   For me,  my  obsession  with  all  things  hot  and  spicy  knows  no bounds. I must  add pepper (hot  one o)   to my  fried  rice, puff  puff, Sharwama, my chicken and  fries  sauce  must  be  really  spicy. Even  for  salad ;Well.... I use pepper  mayonnaise  as  cream. Life  continued... Everybody  was happy. Life  was  spicy, there  was love, pe

Keeping up with the Kalakuta Museum

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This year started with the resolution to step out of my comfort zone by making deliberate strides on leaving my comfort rut and meet life with some passion and fervour. Most of the time, I'm always blissfully unaware of  places outside my  comfort zone as clearly manifested when I worked opposite the kalakuta Museum and I didn't bother crossing the road to find out what existed behind the fence. But this year I was determined to be more spontaneous. So I thought hmmm🤔... why not start with the kalakuta museum. My taste in music is quite eclectic .From Hugh Masekela to Bruno Mars, Ed Sheeran to Orlando owoh, Kendrick  Lamar to Natalie Cole and so on. And as wide ranging as these genres are, somehow Fela's music didn't quite make the cut. I have a few of his songs that I totally love ."water no get enemy"from the  Expensive shit album will remain a favourite .So moving forward it's safe to say I'm not a huge fan. Nonetheless I was /am extremely i