8-11-2015

Being alive is about feeling things.
To love. Hate. Hurt. Grieve. Break. And be destroyed.
And build ourselves up to be destroyed again.
We are built to survive through pain not manage it or dull the sensation
Because then it never really goes away.
I hope one day your pain will be useful to you.
That it will give you. Strength. Courage. Comforting words to give another
Going through a similar experience.
Or it will give you a a gift.
And one day you will write words that people will find inspiring
Words written with your bleeding heart and tears
Because in your pain lies all the light you currently cannot see
And all the future life has for you.

06- 11-2015

Because this is exactly what's on my mind this morning. 

I don't feel a woman is demanding or selfish when she wants effortless amazing love where the other person treats her exactly how she wants to be treated without having to spell it out to him. 

Virginia Wolf gets me on this.

“I’ve been quite miserable. You’d call me selfish — but I feel it more and more; I feel the need to be alone with people who understand without having to try. I need that sense of effortlessness right there — I just refuse to hold back these days. I refuse to settle for some lucidity of mind in my own privacy and then no more energy left, no more vitality left to keep me going. It’s all anxiety and restlessness. And — I find it more and more hard to waste my time on people I don’t truly care about for I feel they don’t care enough either. Or they do care, in their own way, but it’s just not meaningful to me whatsoever. Does it all lie in my complete inability to receive? At any rate, I think they surely like the idea — that’s why they obviously keep coming around for tea! But at this point, I can’t have that — and there’s no point, really, for they don’t understand, ever, and in all my misery I am still pretty arrogant and demanding enough to believe that it is my right to wish to be felt rather than be understood but that doesn’t seem to happen either. So, here it is: is it possible? I ask. Is “emotion” possible without “understanding” of some sort?”

- Virginia Woolf

The Road to Recovery

Do the difficult things while they are easy and do the great things while they are small. The journey of a thousand miles begins with a step – Lao Tzu

If we want change in Nigeria - we need to start small.

Start with your boss’s friend who at the last presentation, told you you had a nice smile with his eyes fixed on your round ass in your tight skirt.

Start with your fiancé’s mother who is against your marrying her son because she thinks edo people are diabolical.

Start with your father who beat your mother last night till she was red and bruised for serving him soup that was not freshly made.

Start with your pastor who told his congregation that the church will be collecting 5 sets of offerings as his Range Rover and Mercedes Benz are not befitting for the man of God that he is. He has his eyes set on higher grounds - a new private jet because he is the mouth piece of God.

Start with the boy you met on twitter, the one that made you feel special just so he could get you drunk and feel you up.

Start with your married uncle who gives you orgasms against the same wall his wedding picture frame hangs on.

Start with the fear of going to your village, the many deaths and the wickedness that lurks in the hearts of your kinsmen. You have heard the charm to cause a stroke costs just ₦50. How can evil be so affordable?

Start with the lies you told your parents, you were never really in school, always in the cars of strange men.

Start with your swollen heart and all the baggage of hurt it carries – the names of the people you have refused to forgive.

Start with the sins you commit without flinching and the abominations that happen that do not rob you of sleep.

Not The Worst Advice

To my fellow females,

Beware of men
Beware of love more

Don't let the both of them confuse you.

Most girls have spent years wondering what went wrong
Spending nights awake and unsleeping
Trying to become a gifted person who reads minds
Just so they can understand what he was thinking
why he acted the way he did
what made him go away like that
leaving them, confused, alone. With a smaller spirit

When he touches you the first time.
Try not to be so naive or flinch noticeably
Because he is a wolf and they notice weakness
Act like you've had men roam through your skin all your life

Some might be gentle with you
Others are too blinded by their lust to care about your pain

If he is gentle
You may like it alot
It might become all you think about
Especially when he is gone
Don't freak out. You're human
Woman
A slave to your hormones and emotions

Sometimes love isn't about making already broken promises and holding hands
Sometimes he isn't the one who will break your heart
It will be you making promises you cannot keep
promising yourself to someone else, making yourself a home for another's heart
When you fail to tell him you're the wild wild west
The driest desert in which he cannot survive
An ever moving tornado
And when he is suffocating and he leaves
It wont be his fault but yours.

Other times he will be the one breaking your heart
Falling in love with someone else
Because he made himself god to classify someone as more of a woman than you are
More attractive, a better lover, a better human

On these days the vodka burning down your throat
Gulp after gulp
Might be your only form of relief
You live on these bottles till you have no more questions
Till life becomes as meaningless as your feelings

Go for more simpler men
The ones that are honest about their lust
The ones that make no promises
Their love is simple
Easier for you to understand

That kind of man
Will pin you against the wall with his hand under your shirt
And you will feel it - Love.

Unsolicited advice to young Nigerian women working 12 joyless hours

My friend and I have been lamenting on how much less of our lives we seem to own under the stress of demanding work hours. She wrote this today and for the first time we felt oddly comforted by our grief and laughed at our predicament. Here's her advice to the rest of you like us.

1) when you start to think you want a life away from the office. Count your bills, spread them on the table. Sigh a lot.

2) when you tell your father you want to be a writer and he lists the names of 9 starving writers, add your name as the 10th on the list. Recite this list before bed.

3) when your mother asks if you can feed a family on passion, eat only laughter for a week. Go back to her and reply you can’t.

4) when you come across an old classmate on Facebook living the life you want, don’t comment. Click like.

5) when the madam at the office asks how you plan to balance your long hours and a husband, tell her men know how to cook. Laugh with her when she laughs at your reply.

6) when the older man who makes crude jokes at work tells you how ungrateful you are, and how he waited 5 years for his first job, apologise. Thank him for his observation.

7) when you call your friend who still hasn’t found a job in 2 years, don’t ask about it. Don’t complain that you work too long. Talk to her about the weather, about your new tailor. Joke a lot.

8) when you boss tells you that the your generation is doomed, ask him why he stares at you when your back is turned (ask inaudibly). Fix your eyes on his family picture. Agree with him.

9) when your American friend tells you you’re wasting your life, that you should follow your dreams, don’t tell her she’s right, just reply “I understand. But this is Lagos”.

10) when you dread the weekdays, look forward to Friday, sit at a new bar and reinvent yourself. After 3 shots of vodka tell the bartender about your life on the island as a photographer. Tell the man sitting beside you after 6.

11) Spend Saturdays being your mother’s daughter. Cook 4 different soups. Picture a hungry husband at your table. This is the life you should crave. Never speak about suicide.

- Because I was asleep when the walls started caving in

Do You Remember How To Feel?

What will you remember most? Years from now? When you're 80, absent and empty.

Memories?

Regrets?

Grief?

Secrets?

Blackouts?

Sins?


Will it be your first orgasm?
That felt like sudden rain
A rush of emotions you didn't have time enough to understand
You felt yourself release. Your thick woman fluid flowed down your thighs shamelessly as you clung to him.You were against the wall, legs wrapped with desperate need around him urging him deeper inside you.
You melted away like dissolving spray
Like mist into nothing
In that moment forgetting who you are
A virtuous woman raised by Christian parents
Head of the youth revival, member of the prayer force team
But you stood there, barely standing, unabashed moaning into his sweet flesh
the whole time
His name stuck somewhere in your throat


When your dad died?
How you cried like the women on TV do
Folding at the middle like a hundred naira note
Your mother didn't cry like them though
Instead she began to shrink into nothing
barely speaking, barely eating
till her depression killed her
Her death was a strange relief to you
You didn't cry
That night you said some prayers
It had been a while since you spoke to God
You thanked him for taking your mummy away.
It was wrong for someone to suffer so much
someone who was alive against her will.

How loving the wrong person changed you?
After that came pain that kept you up at night
Emptiness that came with waking up with nothing and no one
How he taught you how to make enemies of people
Because you couldn't bring yourself to understand
How someone could be so savage
After giving all of yourself
He left, leaving you broken with a swollen heart
You become ashamed and vulnerable
Remembering every dirty thing you made yourself do for him
How you were not woman enough to keep him
She looked better than you did
She had the right face, right body, right walk, right laugh
He looked mesmerized when ever she would laugh and run her scarlet nails across his face
Most times you grieved for being alone
other times you wondered if he had found what he wanted.

14.08.2015.

What was wrong with your first marriage?

You wanted just the boy and not his baggage

Not his mother who thought Edo girls were witches

Or his sister and her fake niceness

The thought of embracing new traditions weakened you

Pay respects to the Umuada for acceptance-

Bribing your way through their hearts-

Becoming a smaller version of yourself -

Because submission and reverence 

for your husband and his entire village was their watch word

You wanted the boy but he was too weak to be a man

He knew you were different but he wouldn't stand up for you

wouldn't stand up to his mother and his people

He looked at you with coward eyes that begged you to comply

when strange women dictated the rites of the marriage

Bear a child so they know you're fertile-

Renounce your people because they were evil-

Dress like a maid because you had become a man's property-

Before they let you marry their son

So you walked out because you had waited on your father all your life

And you'd be damned if you waited on another man

You had waited so long for something different 

Searching for a fire you could not name

You could not shrink yourself for them

Your dreams were bigger than him

So you left him because he chose to hold onto it all instead and let you go