Naomy's memoir

If 2017 was a song, I would not stop dancing to the tune. If 2017 was a course, I would get an A. If it was a man, I would love him forever. 2017 came wearing it Sunday best, looking like a good guy with a promising future, but as it grew older, it began to look rough. So rough it almost had me down. At a point in the middle of the year, it felt like I was walking into a ditch. It was that bad. Oh! I didn't expect 2017 to be such a rougue. I thought I had subdued from the beginning. I was so afraid as I battled to stand to my feet and accomplish something before the year runs out. You know what the rougue guy 2017 kept telling me? "I have knocked you down and you are going to stay down and crawl into 2018". I almost believed his lies until the creator of time came to my rescue, took me up and compressed time for me. From that time, the very creator of time helped me up, I conquered 2017 and he had no choice than to become nice to me. Those months that seemed ...

Since the 1st of November 2017, I have been looking forward to the 9th of the month that ushers in the last month of the year. Someone will ask; "why have you been looking forward to the 9th?" I really do not know, but what I know is that my Mama told me that several years ago, when garri was still very cheap and kulikuli was still ten sticks for N10 (I don old o), in Lagos state, Nigeria, she(Mama) had her  third child. This baby who turned out to be a girl looked so light skinned and vulnerable when she arrived planet earth. Mama said that everyone thought that this very girl child is the one who takes her looks. " Oyinbo pikin " everyone at the hospital said (Naija sun don turn me to blacky finish). Mama told me that as this fine oyinbo pikin grew up, she became a wahala child, she can cry! Soon Mama handed her over to  Uncle  Friday's care (her then favourite uncle, who lived with them). This baby became so used to Uncle Friday that she would always cr...

Hiya.... It's been a while since I posted anything here. Today, something actually motivated or is it inspired me to write this post. I want to discuss it here. I am on a writers group on WhatsApp, recently an argument occurred on the group. Guess what this argument was about? If God really exist or man actually created this God through his imagination. A complicated topic for an argument if you ask me. Really no matter how much we talk about the existence of God, some persons will never agree that God is more than real, and this is sad, so so sad. I mean the biggest fool is the man who says there is no God, no apologies. I really am not writing this piece to convince any one that God lives and reigns, I am only writing to express how sad I am for those who have shut the doors of their heart to this amazingly loving God. I am a writer, a big fan of African literature, and I have read books.... When I say books I mean books, more books than some would ever read all their lifetim...

There is nothing like a fine piece of art work. Really I'm appreciating art more these days. Sometimes when words can't express what or how you feel, a piece of art work would do. #Artislife# #Literatureisart# #theworkofanafricanartisan# #artspeakslouderthanwords#

  Through all my growing years in the very interesting city of Lagos, I have never appreciated a swimming pool as I now do in Sokoto. Well before I started serving in Sokoto as a corp member, pool was just normal, but now I tell you, the swimming pool is like heaven on earth.  The weather here in Sokoto is not just hot, it is extremely hot. My friend would say its just 10 minutes drive to hell. But then I'm not writing to discuss how unpleasant Sokoto weather is rather Its to appreciate who ever invented a pool.     The real story behind the picture is that I can't swim, but I can enter the shallow part of the water and hide from the angry glare of the sun. Yes o whether you can swim or not, in Sokoto caliphate when you see a pool, jump in the angels of the Lord are in the water to save you from drowning.  Another story behind the picture is that Sokoto is not as boring and dry as you think. Its a peaceful state, really more peaceful than you ...

 (A sonnet to all adolescents out there, who think they can' t make it through growing years.) Growing up could sometimes be very hard. You are neither an adult, nor a child. You are neither on both sides of the card. You try to express yourself, you act mild. "I am an adult now", you often say. When responsibilities come, you run. Mother's love, you would understand someday. But now, you feel she wants to make you nun. You seem embarrassed by father's questions. "I am all grown up now", you scream. Father replies, "listen to my instructions". Then your eyes gives up the tears like the streams. "Give me my childhood years back" you then cry. Don't worry dear, give growing up a try.