21 February 2011
14 February 2011
What More?
I always said I would know where to find love. In spite all that has happened, I always thought by now, I would be stronger. My world was changed, but once before I unwillingly let go...
They say without love the flowers would have no colors. Without love the sun would be without warmth. I told myself , the saying is true. On this special occasion Valentine Day, I felt rather dried up, like a lumber in dry season. Though I received couple of lovely messages over the night that was enough to make one happy. Yes it did make me happy, but not excited! Deep down I was shattered, broken, bitter. I am a damaged woman. The little peace I was able to muster over the time, slowly ebb away, because it has been tainted with fear, betrayal, grief severally. Though couple of times, I tried to revive it. But what happens to crop that is not nurtured? It withers, before the harvest time. I wonder if I would ever know true happiness as I had many times let people find it in me. True happiness; true love, I wonder if the candle that burns on watch for it to come would still be in its pewter holder by the time it finds me, or burned out. I could not even bring myself to much tears as usual, meaning I am so spent up!
Life. Very mystique! While I was growing up I saw Aunties prayed, cried for a life partner. And as a stupid child that I was at the time who had no vague clue about the life she is growing up in, I told myself, that was bullshit! All you need do is pursue your career, continue being beautiful and all the men in the world will follow and stay faithful to you. But now I know better. I know bitter. I learned in a terrible hard ways. Even though I have always looked not with my eyes, but searched with my soul. The harmless soul that is now weary. At this point in my life, I have seen it all! I want no more. Because what MORE or than grief?
I'm gonna carry my cross, look for that friend that lies still inside of me, breath her in, breath her out and breath her in again and travel the rest of the journey with her. Shut out my heart that speaks incessantly in favor of others. No more final attempt.
"Hold on, hold on. Do give him a chance. You never could tell, he just might be the man you have been waiting for."
No more back and forth argument in my mind. I was done long time ago, lost! I was rescued somewhat, but my knife still landed on the face.
In spite all this misfortune, I kept giving my heart, trust and love in totality. Rather than find peace, I was done in. My first name is Done... my middle name, Give up... and my surname is what is More...
11 February 2011
Mm
The woman drew back, surprised by the child's rage. The child stood up speechless momentarily as the full meaning of all the woman had been saying dawned on her. Those vein traits in her mother were the same in her elder sister.
"You would not be the first to be abandoned by a mother. She was also neglected by her own mother," the woman continued. "You've been raving since you arrived yesterday, I'm afraid it has to stop. I can't take it any longer! What did you expect me to do? Cuddle you for taking your damn father to your mother's White husband' house.? I can't believe you wanted to ruin her happiness!"
That was not true! In what language hasn't she tried to tell this woman who she knew not before this past two days. What does this woman thought her father was, by the way? And how dare she reduced her to dirt. Who the heck was her younger sister that she framed this sort of degrading lies around her and her father?
Cecil stared intently down into the woman's eyes. "You mean to say that it doesn't matter that your sister abandoned a three month old baby that is almost thirty years of age now, and have to be going about saying diminishing things about us?"
"Maybe," woman snapped. "Of course not. I -" she broke off knowing she had really messed up.
Cecil's mouth fell opened, and her steely honey gaze melted into the ugly, bleached, woman's face. They stood still for several minutes, actions dancing round in their heads.
Something unexpected passed between them, something that caused everything else to slip away in a gloom several minutes. One could call it unresolvable hatred. Cecil wanted desperately to reach out and strangled the woman. And yet she didn't dare. It frightened her as much as it attracted her...
Cecil saw her life as an unplanned and disorganized one, but others rarely saw it that way. All they saw was a spoiled , comfortable, brat who had all the love in the world and a perfect life. But somehow it is their illusion that has somewhat given her life its purpose and focus. It was only her career that she could count on, and it had never let her down. Even though it had left her alone a good deal of time, she had never let anything interfere with it. And never will. With all the past tragic memories of a mother she had only briefly set her eyes on, on a few occasion; now here, she stood locked in steaming gaze with the elder sister.
Everything didn't quite connect. Was this the woman who had told the whole of the mother's family, that she had been the one avoiding her, that if only she could just pay her a visit, she would give her the world? Cecil frowned trying to put the pieces of this puzzle together just then, the woman dropped yet another bombshell.
"Please, stop saying Jesus Christ of Nazareth in my house. This is not His dwelling."
This was the woman that claimed over the weekend that she was at the Redeem Camp Ground for the Holy Ghost Service.
Shattered, Cecil moved from the spot she was standing, walked some pace, then sat down shaking. After several minutes, she picked up her big handbag and started shoving her things inside. The woman really had burned her up.
Mm. The sound she made was an expression of deep grief, regret, unanswered questions in her injured heart. For a very long time some of her mother’s siblings had been troubling her to go onto this wicked woman who was in possession of her mother’s property. But was that how it all began? No. The grandmother happened to have the six of them for different five husbands. Her own mother and the elder sister had a very wealthy father, who did not send any of his girl child to school no matter how bright or brilliant the child was. Today, is not the day of story narration.
With heart heavy as rock, Cecil got on a public bus back home. Despite the bustling around her, her tears poured unheeded. As she made her way back home, she tried to collect her thoughts together, gathered her wits, and tried to ask herself why she had to be the one to come through such … she couldn’t find the right word.
"Why did her father choose such a woman, from such a family to be her mother? She questioned quietly.
She remained seated in a daze for the remainder of her journey back home.
Now in her home, with the door shut behind her, shoes flying about with the handbag, slumped in the bed, she wept bitterly until there was no water yielding to her grief.
If only we really could choose our own family, Cecil would start her life afresh with a new birth...
Red Heart
I would help people out of their binds. I would throw in an extra effort to make sure that the naked is clothed. That wasn't just a promise she made herself for the future when she finally reached the haven of her dreams. Like some would say that today would determine what tomorrow shall look like, she has started helping people out in need, today. She could give her eyes. She noticed her generosity was to a fault, her friends complained always.
On the other end, the phone was ringing but no one would answer it.
"Hello?"
The call was eventually answered.
"Uncle it's I, Anne."
But the Uncle kept saying hello as though he could not hear her. The line clicked and went dead. Sighing with frustration, Anne dropped her cell phone. She breathed a huge sigh drawing a sharp breath over and over again, and sat down heavily on her bed.
It was not the first favor she had asked the Uncle to oblige her without positive result, but she prayed it would be the last. But it wasn't really that, that bothered her. Rather, what could be behind all her ill lucks.
"Exactly how much do we have to sacrifice before there is an open door of breakthrough to the Promise Land?
Shouldn't the numbers count? The days we would spend on earth before we are suddenly cut off?"
She shouted at the ceiling, a rebel to God her Creator. There was absolutely no point being in her sort of calling, unless one is going to be perfectly serious and totally committed.
"It's the price you are meant to pay, darling" A voice whispered in her head. She has tried to tell herself that, many times, but she did not really know anymore.
The contest, the chance she had been waiting for almost all her life, to be able to take a stand. It was almost closing. Everything has failed. She could not save her dreams, after all the sleepiness nights, emptied tummy of sowing into the future, while her peers were busy with boyfriends, clubbing! The playing days was almost over for her, yet she could not recollect any social life that she would say she had, had. Nor could she break out of her confinement just now, as much as wished. Hot tears sprang to her eyes, and in vain she tried to order them back.
"How dare life treated her like this?" she manged to say between her tears. She was broken absolutely, but she was not dettered. Never...
They say there is never night in God's Land of Mercy. Now, Anne believed in the saying. The hand of clock on her bedroom wall ticked away slowly, to her, it was all over. But to the God who formed her and could see each tear that traced down her cheek, ways began to open. The people she could never thought could assist her, stood up for her help. Amazingly, one of them trusted her with his foreign account to do whatever, she wanted to do.
Mm. Dara say after all, weather or not we believe in Him, He remains faithful to us. If only we could stay without being worried when there is no answer to her requests yet, without fear, rebelling to God in our test and trials. How marvelous is our Savior's love for us.
Dara
17 December 2010
Twisted
What love do you love
From which heart do you want it
A heart as cold as snow
Tell me, and I will tell you what love you want
And why it is so...
It makes the face of heave
shine when it suites it
And clouded the days with gloom
When it curses
I have watch it break hearts and mend it
Changing the fabrics of generation for life.
I want to tell about love
But all in my eyes swam is blur
Can't elucidate it's mystery
Tell me what love you love maybe
I could tell you it twisted and reversibly ways
Of toying with our hearts...
Dara
From which heart do you want it
A heart as cold as snow
Tell me, and I will tell you what love you want
And why it is so...
It makes the face of heave
shine when it suites it
And clouded the days with gloom
When it curses
I have watch it break hearts and mend it
Changing the fabrics of generation for life.
I want to tell about love
But all in my eyes swam is blur
Can't elucidate it's mystery
Tell me what love you love maybe
I could tell you it twisted and reversibly ways
Of toying with our hearts...
Dara
16 November 2010
Nuptial Bliss, Some Heart Pour and Wishes....
Though some of us argue there is no true love any longer because of tears stronger than salt that has burned out our sanity and the virtue of our eyes, I have discovered that almost everything ever written about love to be true. Quite despicably though, love could be a trick; for some, they start out as friends and the next thing, they are saying yes I do. For another set, it is love at first sight and from a precarious meeting big thing begins. For another, once hate has its foot in the way of the affair, the love lost could never be regained. For another set, they are lonely and in love with men and women that would never love them; back no matter how pleasing they seem. This other group has searched the corners of this earth for true love, their hearts are captured then they are in love. But their final encounters are consumed by deception. They are the kind of men and women obsessed with the opportunities marriage could give them access to. And for others it is love at the beginning , conflicts, love, dramas, love and they are walking down the aisle to be together till death do them apart. Personally, the disciplined, morally upright “ME,” have not experienced anything remotely close to reaping the fruit of the labor in love. I suppose I have suffered in love more than anyone really should. I am constantly amazed by how events changes our lives; by how two people would start a love affair, come to an agreement to get married . And then seriously, they are standing at the front of the priest or at the registry exchanging vows.
Back in time Shakespeare said love was blind and it is something people have come to believe to be true. But I say that we just choose not to see when it is right before our eyes. And my girlfriend Lily Johnson answered that, I Dara, is the Queen of the Blindside.
True, right? Hmm…. The transient nature of time has done nothing to heal the wounds in my life that has shown no sign of healing. Each man I’ve met, in one way or another has contributed to my fall more than my rise. I suppose whom we start out this love affair with from the world go of our lives seriously counts because aura is a big deal. How could I? How could I have ever needed a man who never wanted me for so long for myself? But how could anyone want someone they know nothing about or get to know someone who is not of interest to them? And what you don’t know doesn’t bug you, right? What you don’t have, you never miss because it was never there in the first place. Yinka… my yester years sheltered dream that I never woke up from… and my broken heart. And the relationship that was meant to be fell apart before I could even rescue it. I wish I have the ability to control time, and that I have the opportunity to redeem my past and re-choose my destiny. Curious what I would first do if I were given such chance? I would cut off the root (Yinka) that withers the evergreens and replant my crops. Unfortunately!
Despite the brutal encounters in my life, I do tell myself something that when, God Almighty wills it our heart desires are granted.
With the irreversible powers of the Alpha and Omega, Bosun’s wishes came to pass on 28th and 30th Oct, 2010. The tag of singleness was removed from her as Dapo repented of men’s animal and greedy desire to keep chains of women and gave his love to her without reservation. Bosun, may your marriage be fruitful, you have found the kind of companionship that money could not provide. You preferred his empty pockets, to the affluence of other men. I pray your joy will not be crippled.
Lately, we spend little time together. I don’t see much of you anymore these days because you have been busy building your joy of love and performing your role of wife, sister-in-law and motherhood. You are one of the virtuous females I have seen in my time. You would never die building. Your joys would grow stronger.
I was the instrument that destiny used to lead Bosun to Dapo, but she made her own life complete.
And for this longing heart, I do hope, pray that someday real soon, I reap the joy that comes after the tears of oppression that I’ve sown in the old times up till this present age which took a toll on my maidenhood and perished the peace in the free passage way of love.
Our way to the registry
Didn't she look so beautiful?Yes she pass thousands of maidens in beauty as dove passed
raven in beauty.
Here my boyfriend says that my arms are muscular, what do you say?
The group pics.
15 November 2010
Camera Front ...
I wiped at my tears, turning away from the early morning sun, away from the window. These days I walk carefully with my shoulders erect to disguise my increasing demons and fear. My tall strong frame still gives me the look of a model with an athletic body, and the pugnacious gleam in my eyes gives me the look of a fighter. I picked up a clean sheet and a pen, returning across my bedroom and dropping lifelessly into the bed. My thoughts on how far I have come in my career, still with no positive happenings yet. I began scrawling on the paper.
Camera front and behind the scenes is where I have been destined to be. Even though I had tried severally to ward off this vision and mission, and take up another vocation. Nevertheless, the knife keeps landing on the same face. Every other vocation that has delighted me so far and that I could do well at had one thing or another to do with the still and moving pictures.
No record label would sign you on just by spending your last and doing your best to put the songs that took you years to hone on a CD. And the marketer or promoter would never stop demanding of you the money you don’t have to get you into the market. The money that if you had had, you wouldn’t be approaching them, you would just do your thing! Would you believe it if I tell you that, personally I had experienced the bizarre aspect of their so called musical and acting talent hunts? More than three times I have qualified for TV reality musical shows and that’s all that ever happened. All my money and efforts, all gone down the drain because of some sons of gutters, that could think of nowhere else to siphon money but from an upcoming artistes like me.
No writer sells scripts or ideas just by picking up the telephone and putting a call though to an Editor, pitching the Studio Execs, Producers, or putting in a large chunk of dollars to market his/her material. Extreme efforts are required. That’s my opinion summed up after all my falls without a single rise. I always thought one step in between would take me further to where my glorious destiny would manifest but I am rather moving backward than I could ever imagined. It happened I am destined to become part of a very tough industry and has quite challenging callings. Matter of fact, I am carrying a load that is too heavy for me.
I have changed my mind about a lot of things since that day in Mr. Sanmi’s presence at the advertising firm when he grabbed one of my boobs in the changing room after leaving the casting set without warning, and I erupted in rage slapping the hell out of his chiming, shrunken and obnoxious face. The ‘me’ inside of me, had been right. Like battles to be conquered, success for the descent won’t be won in a long time by incessantly being disciplined and being outraged at immorality.
Right now I have lost count of the many television shows I have appeared in, and none of it has brought my star any closer to manifestation. The rave only lasted for a longer while before it subsided. This is yet another TV show and no calls except for the stare, cat calls, and the greetings from total strangers that I got on the streets.
“I am searching for an open door…I need an angel…I’m calling an angel…send me an angel… Jesus is the answer for the world today above Him there is no other…because your cloud is dark now, you think there won’t be sun shine…well the word of God is true and everything he says He would do it for you...” all of these are Christian faith words.
What am I even saying? I’m sure I am losing my mind!
Didn’t a singer say that, sometimes it’s hard to face the truth so we run? Well in my own case he is absolutely wrong! In my little 28 years journey, I have prayed all the prayers anyone of my age wouldn’t even know existed. And though without answers, I have never for once let the traces of discouragement overcome me.
Although I have run out of requests, and I am constantly down on my knees crying, I would never lose my faith. And maybe, just maybe there might be a turning point when I least expected.
Interview with Sola Kosoko on, LTV.
My Fault???
The worst part of this story was not the beating but the fact that none of this was my fault. There was a rivulet of blood from my nostril. I was dying, and he knew he should stop, but he couldn’t. My body sagged, and sounds from me were those of a woman soon to leave her life behind. I tried to tell myself that I was still at the wedding reception, but the hard punching landing on every part of my fragile body kept bringing back my senses and consciousness back to reality; my trip to the car to park to pack in the gifts for the bride. I saw him coming. My head turned and smiled back at him as he approached in his usual graceful way. We’ve been good friends all these years despite what happened. Even when we argued and I run my quick tongue, he never for once, raise his hand up against me. I couldn’t have thought that a day would come when he would want me dead.
“I brought you into my circle of friends!” Henry lashed out defensive of his anger.
“If it weren’t for you there wouldn’t be Moore in this circle and Patrick falling in love with her.”
His glittering blood shot eyes continued to bore into me. If he wasn’t pining, me down with his strong arm, I would run. I could scream also but nobody would hear me. Everybody right now all seemed to be carried away gleeful of joy for the newly wed. Besides, the house was a mile long.
“Look at the way she’s made them worked. Why didn’t you do that for us? Why did you not make us happen?”
“But that is not the real reason you are doing this, is it?”
Henry, in mid-rant, was thrown by the question. “Of course it is! He insisted.
‘You are a liar.’
‘I’m not!’
‘You are just jealous I moved on a long time and my life would never be bad as yours. Your life is distorted Henry – you are shackled. ‘
I couldn’t but run my tongue with the strength remaining to me.
“Marriage has mocked you. You are bounded for life to a woman you despised, you catholic fool! Darkness isn’t ever going to depart from you!”
A stinging slap across my face flew blood out of my mouth. I told myself that If I survive this awful situation, my lingering memory would be of a monstrous ex. Pounding into me.
At twenty-nine Henry Zacharias began to do well at the oil company where he worked. It was years since he had been praying for promotion. Eventually he was promoted from junior accountant to chief accountant. And with the promotion came chains of women.
At 36 with her delicate features and baby face maintained by plastic surgery Loren could still pass as the same age with a twenty year old woman. And she ruthlessly maintained the lie when she met Henry on an online dating forum. Meeting Loren was like sunshine after a dark cloud. A sophisticated, rich lady, what a dream come true! He invited her over and Loren plans worked out as she had set out to ensnare him. He was so charmed that he fell for every lie which swept him along though a whirlwind courtship to the altar and in the passage of months, good changed to evil. He discovered all her lies, but too late.
“How is that my fault? You were saying yes I do to me before you even got to know me.” Loren yelled sarcastically in Henry’s face.
“Our faith or your father’s money would not stop me from divorcing you.”
“And I would certainly stop at nothing, until my father disinherit; you of all that his money has enabled you to established. Or have you forgotten that you lost your job the week we got married? It is not your money that has been doing the magic, you dumb ass!” She sneered. “You are mine Henry, for life!” She pushed him out of the way marching out of their master bedroom.
As everything has its own beginning, my meeting with Henry did. And this was how it all began.
Lachach was one of the hottest clubs in Lagos. Situated inside Maryland, it was co-owned by two friends.
Kemi Dollar, my friend of seven years was the chief of hooker organizer. She enjoyed it, but pretended indifference. Life was fun for her. Every Fridays was party for her and her peers. Lachach was perfect business place for the morally decadents hiding under the cover of clothes. On Friday and Saturday nights, the semi call girls, the proper call girls, the prostitutes, the semi good girls took their lives in their hands and drove or chattered a cab down to Lachach to get laid and be paid.
In Kemi’s car, we cruised into the club one late Friday. The only reason I came along was because it was my Friend’s birthday and this was where she had decided to celebrate it.
To my annoyance when we got to the dancing floor all the men there was trying to hit on me. None of them could have a dance without their hands slightly going down on the butt in spite of the fact that I made it very clear I was not one of them. And plus the air sticky with their cigarettes smoke, staying out of their faces seemed to be the only way to avoid their irritating come-ons.
‘Hi,’ I replied a guy who greeted me as I moved quickly to sit down and be alone.
‘Tough trip, isn’t it?’ Henry was standing before me. He introduced himself as he took a seat. This was how we met. This was how our love affair began. He wouldn’t let go as though I was going to be his last. Despite my uptight scruples that always surfaced where ever I went and my one way nature to keep to just one man when I am in a relationship, Henry didn’t treat me less than all those decoded call girls. And overtime we went our separate ways, especially when the promotion set in.
Heavy eye lids though, but this wasn’t about nudging into sleep. I looked around, everything looked blurred. Fingers relaxing. My head tilting slowly. Then I was motionless.
“Dead?” A voice in my head questioned.
I was slipping away into void, am I going to die, oh, God, don’t let me die. A little beyond I could hear the banging of iron. It was bell, it began to toll. The melancholy resonance seeped through my slaked body leaving me floating above the car in the air, watching my pathetic ex wept helplessly. I was dead. That’s what it means when you leave your body. He was shouting my name right now.
“Wake up Rachel, please don’t do this to me.” He was shedding tears profusely .” I love you.” He sank down on the ground crying the more and violently shaking.
Some angels dressed in snow white garments, pulled me up. I was in their midst in a court yard of some sort that was as white as them. It was not a court yard I discovered, but a white painted room. There was a bright fluorescent. Blinking, I adjusted my eyes to the light. I was in a hospital in mainland surrounded by friends and my boyfriend Greg. I had been in a coma. I was badly bruised and cut, but no internal injuries sustained, said the Doctor.
Greg moved softly to my bedside and leaned over for a whispers, “Kim, are you seriously alive?”
Still very weak, unable to make out words yet, I grabbed his hand.
“My God!” he swung around “She is alive!”
Everyone went on rambling about what they would do to Henry. How they would make sure he rotten in jail.
The rest of you may God save you from deranged, weak minded ex that might want to take out their mistakes on you!
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