Returning Home II
The quick steps behind her frightened her. It seemed the person was trying to catch up. Fatima wondered what she would do if she was in any sort of danger. She was heavily pregnant, much too so to take to her heels or fight back…
Monday Motivation: Yes!
To kick start this week, I thought to share what I’d like to call a ‘kitchen inspiration’. It is basically, a gleam of light that shone on my mind while I was cooking. I think optimism is like a kitchen knife- today it is a…
Tuesday Thoughts: Success Stories
Before the first draft of every inspiring success story ever made it to ink, it was first written with sweat and tears. One of my favorite quotes as a teenager was, “Success is 1% inspiration and 99% perspiration.” My days at the University of Ibadan…
THE BEST WRITING ADVICE I GAVE (I)
Sometime last year, one of my very good Facebook friends entrusted me with his manuscript. He said he wanted to enter it for a contest and would be glad if could do some editing. He ended by saying he would like me to make some…
RETURNING HOME I
Fatima is muttering prayers as she walks down the narrow path which leads home. She cannot stop peering through her shoulder. Everywhere is silent. The kind of silence which injects fear. When all a person hears is the chirping of crickets singing lullabies for street…
Nearly Half a Decade With Poetry & Here is What’s Next!
People often ask when I tied the knot with poetry. In response, I would raise two or three fingers. But this year I am having to raise four fingers. And I can hardly believe I stayed with it so long. Many times in this year,…
My Favourite Pastime
A place, where I would eagerly volunteer is a rich library or book store, with lots of books on literature and just about any subject. There are two things about that place which I have grown to love. First, the silence. Second, books and the…
WHAT IT MEANS TO BE A WRITER IN MY COUNTRY
I come from a country where a writer is a sorry blabber until s/he gains international recognition. Every budding writer is waiting for the dove from the west to descend at the baptism of a huge award and declare: “This is a writer in whom…
LETTERS TO MY SON I
Dear son, I have told you before that loving a woman is like roasting a yam tuber. You have to stay near, without minding the heat of the fireplace. You have the smoke which escorts the nearly unbearable heat to contend with. If you are…
WHY YOUR WRITER FRIEND IS WEIRD
Creatives are like walking (living) petrol tankers. The difference is that no one writes on our foreheads, “Highly inflammable. Highly explosive. No smoking”. When a creative person passes by fire (tough times) and there are visible sparks, everyone thinks “isn’t he such a wonderful firework?”…
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