Thursday, 26 December 2013

5 Things We Need to Learn.

-Don't force someone else's medicine down your throat.
Mama Bayo's husband hit her always. He gave her scars that could not be hidden. Scars that were difficult to lie about.Her friend, Mama Ibeji had a similar case. She poisoned her husband and now she lives without fear. Mama Bayo took the kitchen knife and stabbed her husband repeatedly. Her son who watched her butcher his father, shot her in the head. Bayo loved his father. He was his father's son.
-Be a good friend regardless.
Tola was a good friend to Ore. Even when Ore started trafficking drugs, she worried about him enough to report him to the police to have him arrested. Ore would come out a better man because of Tola.
-Forgive always.
Amanda's father never forgave her for letting herself be molested when she was barely 7. He lashed her repeatedly with the iron buckle of his belt. The belt cut her skin deeper than the assault she barely understood. Amanda never forgive her dad for it. She doesn't remember being molested but she remembers her father's hateful words and the belt buckle...
-Avoid bad romance.
Joseph liked Lara since first grade. He'd do the sweetest things like give her flowers and write love poems. He'd dream of her smile. After graduation, Lara began to like him back. But he was always too busy to reply her. He had moved on to his best friend Tolu, who he discovered he was in love with...
-Live light.
Carry no burdens. Learn to let go. Find happiness in the littlest things. Pamela let go of all her lovers. Even George who proposed the week before to dedicate herself to God and the church. She found the joy of the Lord in His temple. His temple was her body. She'd touch herself each night till she made herself cum.

Sunday, 15 December 2013

Don't mock a pain you have not endured

Many times we hate ourselves for being alone. We blame ourselves for the many times we opened ourselves up to people who didn't understand enough to stay. Sometimes we give up and give in to defeat and silence, strengthening our pain and our shame. We live inside the corners of ourselves for the fear of being discovered for what we are. Broken. Hurt. Damaged.

A lesson I learnt; "Don't mock a pain you have not endured". Halima gave in midnight showers. Something about the way the water reassured her that she was not alone even when she still had to face her lonely cold bed. She'd curl up and cry her eyes out for the people she trusted enough to see the real her. The people she wanted to stay. The ones who didn't. She gave into songs with lyrics that cut her deeper than knives. Songs that made her remember who she was. Lonely. She belonged too deeply to herself to belong to anyone now.

Nobody could want to be with her like she did. Or understand her like she did. Yet they wondered why she didn't blossom like the other flowers, why she didn't blush foolishly like the other girls. Like Mariam who blushed and laughed in her high pitched voice to everyman's joke. Who made them feel like the men they were. They flocked around her like bees. She never knew a lonely bed. Halima believed in love enough to try to be honest. She told each man of her burden. Of how her father crept in her room every night after she turned thirteen. How her mother was to lost to want to notice. How she bore scars that wouldn't heal. No one wanted a damaged girl. Some laughed waving her tale off. All of them ran.

Tonight she's fading away to memories. She's fading away to her own darkness. Somehow she wanted the comfort her own death would give her. She slit her wrists and  laughed at her own pain in the same mocking way they all did till the red filled her bath tub

Monday, 2 December 2013

"Do you love her?"

“Do you love her?” the woman asked eying me suspiciously.
I thought of Georgina and why I got so attracted to her in the first place.
“She’s like a sister to me, really smart with a good heart” I told Mrs Adeniyi, looking her right in her eyes.
Georgina was smart above everything, smart and good. She was one of the few I found a certain peace in.
Georgina was also big boobs, nice ass, and a good kisser too. Georgina was always wet. Always wet when my finger or my tongue found her down there. Georgina got me turned on above what I thought was possible. Abandoning our friends, sneaking to dark corners, just because we couldn’t wait to get out hands on each other.
I loved Georgina high, she was always horny when high. I watched her count the Christmas lights dreamily through heavy eyes. Right then I wanted to claim her for myself. Devour her mouth with mine, kiss her breasts and suck at her nipples, part her legs and lick her wetness off, stroking her clit just to get her wetter. Hear her moan the way she does and hold on to me desperately not to fall in the gutter.
Georgina and I liked to pass the day with each other. She made me see the positive parts of life that gave me strength enough to hope. Sometimes I worried I felt something more for her, but I never dared to ask myself the question till the woman blurted it out demanding an answer..
“Women don’t drink, smoke or kiss each other on the mouth”, she was saying. I tried hard to act like I was paying attention. A memory of Georgina’s lips on mine flashed in my mind. Soft, inviting, giving. “You will not keep a man with this attitude. Women are reserved, domestic, religious…” She eying me again, “Can you cook, clean, take care of your husband?”. I hated to cook. I was one of the few that found the issue of desperately impressing your husband to keep him from cheating repulsive. “My pussy is good enough to keep any man”, I’d say. Whoever my husband would be he should learn to make sacrifices too.
  The woman was still talking. Maybe I loved Georgina, maybe I just cared so much about her. This wasn’t the first time I loved a girl. I remembered what it felt like. The confusion, all that hurt and heartbreak. I didn’t want to go back to that. Georgina was different. This was different.