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From the Talker's Pen

Hither and 'Teether' About Meat

Some of us live in constant pain, pain that is not considered pain. Some of us live in constant pain, terminal pain. I have been up since 12 am, trying to suppress the torture that 'being human' has placed on me. How do you enjoy life when the little things that ought to give you joy, turn to emotional and physical agony? All my life, I have watched people eat meat without thinking twice. I have watched people laugh after eating meat while I try to laugh along, toothpick in hand.
Am I not disabled? Having dentition that allows the swift entry of meat through my teeth but prevents the swift exit. Everybody eats suya and is happy. I eat suya, I try to be happy. One sharp and masterful insertion of toothpick to remove the 'disease causing intruder' leads to several missed attempts. Well, now I know why being a surgeon wouldnt have been the best career choice.
Another attempt to remove the stuck piece and someone reminds me that it is bad to use toothpicks. I am told to a…
Recent posts

3 AM

I woke up at 3 am. This was the best time to do it and get on with life, it was a time without souls on the walkways, just the regular night guards who were now familiar with my work pattern.
I woke up at 3 am. Got out of bed and breezed into my silk dress, no underwear. A risky thing to do, considering it improved my chances of getting raped, according to some people. I didn't care. Whoever wanted to rape would rape, with or without my underwear.
I woke up at 3 am, got to the kitchen and opened the back door. There, it laid  as usual, in a black thrash bag. I motioned towards it, hesitating for a bit. But why, this was my usual responsinility. I had to clean up over them and get rid of every evidence. Somehow, I felt guilty, a part of the larger evil in the world.
I woke up at 3 am, got the 'package' and slid out of the house. I monitored my footsteps closely to avoid noise. I monitored the air to taste for human presence though my nostrils. I monitored everything but my…

A CLASSROOM DOES NOT MAKE A TEACHER

A classroom does not make a teacher, sacrifices do. I used to think that teaching was by far one of the easiest things to do. What changed? My service year. Currently teaching in Delta state, I'm learning and unlearning new things about the lives of average teachers. Stay with me, as I document the highlights of my National Youth Service year in Agbor, Delta state.
If there are any survival tips or ideas, I would appreciate a mail detailing them. Thanks.

FOUND IN LOST

So Abdul woke me up by 6 this morning. He said,
"Musa, Musa. Let's go and play. "
I have been eagerly awaiting this moment for days. Just last week, I was a regular beggar at Mariri until I met Abdul. In my usual manner, I walked up to him and asked for some notes for breakfast. He had sized me up with his tiny eyes which were obscured by his dusty and long lashes before giving me a hundred naira note.
He walked away, then, walked back.
I remember him asking my name and age. I replied, not that I knew my exact age, for I only knew the day I left home to beg and lost my way.
We talked at length about things I cannot remember now,  and then, he put me in his car and told me to wait.
.....
"Shehu, Shehu. Let's go and play, " he told the other boy beside me.
We both got up and went outside. Abdul had brought us home on the same day and never stopped telling us about the game of luck that we were about to enjoy.
We got in his car and Abdul began driving. I am n…

IT IS US THEY HAVE FORSAKEN

"What do you think you are doing?" I ask Fulerewa as she paces about.
"Thinking, if we leave the body here, nobody will know we are responsible, " She replies.
I walk over to it and poke the eyes with a broomstick to be sure it is lifeless.
"Let's just tell Yeye we did it, she will shield us from any harm, " I say.
Omahengwa has been silent the whole time and I forget that she is in the room until she speaks.
"Let's get out of here before we are caught. There is no blood on our hands, and nobody can claim to find our fingerprints here," Omahengwa says.
" I agree, " Fulerewa says, breathlessly.
Unable to find a better solution, I drop the broomstick and say,
"O da, we leave it here but this stays between the three of us. "
We leave the room and close the door behind us, behind our secret.
The next morning I am awoken by loud noises from people crying and arguing. I make my way out of the room and see Fulerewa…

GOODBYE MY LOVER

As with most relationships I've been in ,it was rosy at the beginning. I dreamt of you every night and day and promised to give you my all. This is who I am, and although some part of you may be disappointed at the fact that I'm talking about our love life instead of writing exciting stories , I am not sorry.
I hope you come across this post of mine someday amd realise how much I loved you but how broken you left me.
That afternoon , I stood in the hot sun, waiting to serve you, my special one, but all you did was push me to my limits. I waited, waited for you. Even when I began to feel my legs give way, I was convinced I could go on. Then, reality hit me! Down I went. My legs could no longer keep up the chase in this one-sided game of love. Baby, you broke me at my very first attempt at parade. Dear NYSC, you made me realise that stars weren't a mere imaginative construct for failing consciousness. I literally saw stars in the sky.
Finally, one last attempt at saving fa…