Naomy's memoir

'Good afternoon Sir, you said wanted to see me?' 'Yes, Ebiere welcome. Please sit.' Mr. Waziri, my course adviser was a fatherly figure and one of the most respected lecturers in the Department of chemistry. 'Your last semester result was poor. This is unlike you Ebiere. What I expect is for you to put all your efforts into maintaining your second class upper result, not dealing with a slack hand in final year.' He said staring sternly at me. After a long pause, he continued 'Is there any problem? Do you have something bothering you? You know you can talk to me.' 'There is no problem sir, I'll do better this semester.' I replied in a tiny voice. 'Please do. You are one of my best student, don't disappoint me. Remember that this is your last semester.' I left Mr. Waziri's office and decided not to visit Chuka or take dope ever again. I tried and succeeded for two weeks, until the devastating news of papa's death...

I love Imade very much and I need to spend more time with her, but I keep messing things up. Imade is my 6 years old daughter who lives with my mum. Mama is tired of the kind of life I am living and we fight regularly. I cannot forget the last fight we had, she said hurtful things to me. 'You are a disgrace Ebiere, I wish I was the one dead instead of your father, that way I won't be seeing all these.' I wanted some more money from Mama, after the N20,000 I stole from her a month ago. 'Things are quite hard for me now Mama, but I will pay back. I have this business I want to invest in.'  I explained, but Mama wasn't buying it this time. My mother is a church woman and she is amazing, we just never get along well. She hates the life I live. I hate my life too, but I can't help myself so I live it anyway. Don't even start to blame mama for the way I turned out. Mama brought me up in the ways of the Lord, but I wanted to explore other ways. Papa...

It all began with a small headache, I was in class when it started. Well, it was not unusual as I had not had anything to eat since morning and it was almost 4pm already. The first thing I did when I got to the hostel was to eat the food I bought from Buka 22. The food did not taste nice. For someone who usually is selective when it comes to food, I did not mind the taste. I just needed a little food in my stomach so I could use the pain killers I got from the pharmacy earlier. I slept off immediately after taking the drugs. When I woke up at bout 7:30pm, the headache had intensified. Two weeks later, I was at the school clinic complaining about the headache that just won't leave. The doctor, a nice looking young man that would have been perfect if not for two broken teeth in his mouth wrote some medical jargons on paper and asked me to take it to the pharmacy. The pharmacist gave me some horrible looking drugs that I had to force myself to take. When the headache still...

It's that time of the year again when I come to the realization of my transition from a girl into a woman.( Even the word 'transition' sounds old). No matter how hard I try to adjust my head to the fact that I am a grown woman now, my head won't agree I am just as Naomy as I was some 10 years ago.  Birthdays come with mixed feelings. You just love the attention, gifts and the euphoria of the moment but somewhere in your head, you are thinking; "No kidding girl you're getting old." Confession time! So here are somethings I thought I would have done or would be at this age. 1. I thought I would have a beach house already. Yes! You heard me right. 😶 A glass house on a beach in Paris probably with Alexa, my virtual assistant playing me cool songs every morning as I wake up to the water view.  Anyway, at least I sometimes wake up to see pools of water caused by rain fall at night. My dear, water is water whether beach water or rain water. 2. I thought I would ...

Hi guys! It’s  been a while I posted anything here. Well, I have been so caught up with work and life that I almost abandoned my first love, writing. I'm back now and I am going to be dropping a lot of gist here. Today, I want us to examine a crucial topic which is; the difference between staying alone and Isolation. This is one sensitive topic. Recently a lot has been happening in my life and at a point I felt overwhelmed. I couldn't just explain how I was feeling, I wanted to escape but where to? And the worst thing was that I wanted to talk but at the same time, I wanted to fight through alone (some of us are used to facing life alone). Well, I finally picked my diary and poured out all the pent up emotions through writing. This period I was quite distance from everyone and all I wanted was to just stay alone, but at the same time, I realized I was isolating myself. Guys! What do you think? I know that wanting to be alone is healthy. No matter how surrounded you are...

I am the third child in a family of six, which includes father and mother. From an early age, I have always love to do things differently. I love to question certain norms and dress in a weird manner, but the environment surrounding my childhood suppressed the fashionista in me. I grew up in a religious family, a family where prayer was majorly targeted at enemies. My father became a Christian a few years after I was born. So I grew up learning things I was to unlearn in later years.  My family was not a rich one, so I began to dream from an early age  how to become a rich influential woman. I was very serious about becoming great that I didn't really have time for boys.  In fact, I saw boys as distractions, so my brain and my heart made an agreement to stay away from boys until after higher education. I always loved TV presenters because of their accent and mode of dressing. I loved the media and would spend hours acting like a television character.  Growing ...

You fought and fought You fought the pain But then! You had to go. Nicolas! The short black man The poet The Africanist Death! Don't for a second think you have won You have only eased Nicholas's pain You have only relieved his sufferings. I already miss your poems I really wanted to see more of "The Diary of a Short Black Man" I wanted to see your works published. A great writer has passed on A voice for this nation is silenced A friend has taken his rest Nicolas! The short black poet.