Impacting Positively

She had few words for humans  Fewer, for men A little more, for women Hair, lipstick and physique , She would compliment her fellows And so, her sexuality, men critiqued "she loves me not, damned harlot" "She loves men not, damned lesbian" On an on, they cussed, a lot. I liked men, too much for one lifetime But I never fancied a man Too stupid to accept a NO And debate the bedding of my bed, by his clan

Terrible things seldom happen when you are most prepared for them. Ever since I moved in to my new apartment, I have slept with one eye open (some Fetty Wap level). I do not believe in having a gun to protect myself so I decide to get the number of a police man who lives in the neighbourhood. Now, this is not a regular policeman. He does not have the trademark pot belly and even irons his uniform! Back to the main point. Growing up, do you remember how NEPA never took the light on days your clothes were ironed or on days you didn't have any appointment but they never brought it when you needed to press clothes? Or how you could spend all day at home and not purge but the moment you dress up to go out your stomach gives you a nice prank at the busstop ? Or how the zip to your dress never gets spoilt on days when you wear a singlet or shimmy   as underwear except the day you decide to wear a low back padded dress without bra. Okay ,okay. That is what is happening right now. I have

Enjoyment is a necessary part of life, enjoy as much as you can. Food, is a necessary part of life, eat as much as you can. However, be wise. In all that you do, remember Caution, she will help you a lot. If you know me, you know how excessive I can be about things. I remember this one time when I bought a soap that promised to give flawless skin in one week. So, I thought, why wait a week if I can get it in two days? All I have to do is use the soap a lot. My first bath lasted about an hour because I figured that the more I washed, the more my glowing skin would come out. Okay, first bath did not do the trick. I tried again. I started bathing three to four times a day. What can an unemployed child do with her time? Bathe! Long story short, soap got finished and I still had my jagajaga skin . That's when I decided to stick with my inexpensive Ose Dudu (black soap). Enough about soap and back to my excessive attitude. You know how they say that too much of everything kills? Well,

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

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

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.  

You do not. You love yourself And teach her the same You do not love bitterness You cure it. You do not love a bitter woman You love yourself And allow her ripen Not her breasts. Her. How do you love a bitter woman? You cannot, She destroys. 

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

"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

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 f

Dear readers, welcome, to Agbowó. Founded by a small group of people who are connected by a common fountain of knowledge, University of Ibadan, Agbowó is here to thrill your literary buds. For months, they have worked assiduously to create a platform that celebrates and curates the most important and beautiful works of literary and visual art by Africans in Africa and the diaspora. The product of those months of work is Agbowó, an electronic journal of new African literary and visual art. The journal will publish the best of contemporary African short fiction, non-fiction, poetry, photography and other forms of visual art. They are often asked about what the project name, Agbowo, means to them. While it could symbolize a team (composed majorly of University of Ibadan alumni) moving out of curating university publications to the opposite street (Agbowó) symbolizing a larger set, they are more inclined towards Oredola Ibrahim's definition; Collectors of things of value. Today

I never had a thing for men with pot-bellies. When I met my husband, he was a perfect regular guy who worked out three times a week. However, with the children and more responsibility, he needed to work more hours, his gym hours had to go. Now, all I see when I come back from work, is a disfigured sac of a man lying on the bed, waiting for me. What sensible man would lose shape after marriage? This is the thing that men do, that pushes their wives to look outside. Therefore, I wonder why people were surprised when it was revealed that I was having extramarital affairs. Men need to understand, that we women are moved by what we see. We were created to be polygamous by nature and there is nothing anybody can do to change that. I was a perfect size 10,after two kids. I was beautiful, successful and appealing. This is what I tried to explain to my husband. I didn't go about looking for a man to cheat, the men came. These are the things that men must understand, when they have a beaut

How do you break a man? You take a little of his love And give it to another. How do you break a woman? You leave her alone When she asks you to. And when she leaves, You do not run after her. You... 

30/11/2016 Guys, I graduated last year November from University of Ibadan, at least, that's what's on my National Youth Service Corps (NYSC) dashboard. If you do the math, it's been eight months. Eight months of what though? It's been eight months of various freelance jobs because in Nigeria, most firms do not hire without an NYSC certificate. So, I've been waiting patiently, to be called to 'serve' my nation. Eight months of ridiculousness, eight months of telling my friends who live overseas that I trust the Nigerian system and I am ready to wait for it. Eight months of watching my mother feed and clothe me when in the real case, it should be the other way. Who says that NYSC takes up just a year of a person's life? You lie. Take several seats!  If we had sense in this country (I really cannot find another word to use now), NYSC would be better than it is. I'm sure my frustration is just starting because I obviously havnt experienced the rigor

Laughter: oh, they came around yesterday. They complained about the wages we give them. They said, #19,800 is too small for them. Fibbery: Aaaaah, goats! They deserve nothing more! Those lousy dogs! Have they ever seen that much money in their lives? Thieves! And children of thieves! Laughter: aaah. Easy, easy my friend. Some of them are not dogs you know, I have met some exceptional ones. Fibbery: Dogs, yes, they can never be. Even my dog feeds better than them! They are fools. If they rise up again, we shall give them an increase, but hey, we shall owe them five months' wages. Laughter: And if they complain again? Fibbery: We tell them that we are broke! Aren't we broke? Imagine, I could not fulfill my December wish of purchasing a 10th jet. We are broke, the nation is broke! Laughter: aaah. I see. (Curtain falls, although it never did rise at the start). 

"Hit me, curse me, bring it all on, but leave my mother out of it." Most likely, the first thoughts on your mind when someone references your mother in an argument. For many, the words "Ìyálàyá ẹ" is an invocation of the wrath of mother, the greatest 'god' in a child's life. Ìyá is much more than the Yoruba translation of the word "mother" which may at first use, refer to a biological relationship. Ìyá is a child's first friend and protector. Before a child becomes aware of a supernatural being responsible for his or her existence, the child knows his mother first. The one who feeds, protects, entertains and showers love unending. Ìyálàyá ẹ ! Is more than an insult to a child. It is an insult to the sacredness of life itself, it is an insult to the soil of the earth, whose fertility is linked to that of a mother. For many average Yoruba people,  Ìyálàyá ẹ goes deeper and hurts more than other insults, even those which reference the fat

There are certain people you really should not look in the eye. If you are Nigerian, you're probably thinking of older people, especially your parents. If you're not Nigerian, well, you may picture quite a wide range of people. For one, a liar. People often believe that liars or dishonest people find it difficult to maintain eye contact during conversations. Thus, when a person tries to avoid the gaze of another, it's very likely that the person is a crook! But here I am, at Oshodi Bus Park, Waiting for the vehicle to move quick. I am completely in my right, paid my fare, occupying just the right passenger space and not playing a song from any unusually loud 'chinko'  phone. Then, somebody moves me into the wrong. "Aunty, buy bread. Sweet sweet bread. Aunty, buy bread na, " a seller insists. First things first, I stiffen my neck. I ensure that it does not turn in any direction. You see, there's a kind of commitment you make to these people, when y

I always wondered what it would feel like for heaven to come down on earth. Would there be food, would angels roam the streets? Would there be nonstop electricity? Would I see God? Several questions! Until that day, when it happened. Like every other day, I was ready for the day's activities. I took my bowl full of the day's sales and went in search of iceblock. Honestly, with the way the day started, I would never have imagined that I would feel God's presence that day. I had to go to about six shops in search of iceblock to cool my drinks. They were all sold-out! Finally, I got two pieces at the price of #200 each. I was pissed already. Selling a packet of Coca-Cola came with a profit of 320 which meant that I had to sell 3 packs or more to make good profit. As I carried my bowls and cooler to the expressway, I remembered the food I bought in school earlier that day. I had bought it on credit because Aunty had made me go to school without breakfast and money. On regular

#Saynotodomesticviolence Hi, I am Binogun Winifred Omagbenenuyi and I join millions of people all over the world in saying no to domestic violence. I believe that no human should be subject to such inhumane conditions. I believe that at best violence is only beneficial as a form of self defense or security,  in the hands of those who have being trained to protect the lives and properties of citizens. Thanks. GLORIFICATION OF FEMALE ABUSERS For years, people have come out to speak against domestic violence in society. Conferences have been held, organizations have been set up and activists have risen up. However, society has decided to sit on the fence in more ways than one. When we talk of domestic violence, the stereotype is of a woman in an abusive relationship. Why? Do people not believe that a man can be abused? Or they assume that a man only allows himself to be abused? I recognize that women are often the subjects of abuse more than men according to statistics and news. Howe

Don't offer what you do not have. I'm talking money, time, love, care and anything else. Why? Because you disappoint when you fail. This post is actually calling out those who offer a listening ear and a caring shoulder to people suffering from depression or those who may be struggling with suicidal thoughts. Okay, I get it. Nobody should attempt suicide, it's not a good thing, but it happens. Now, when it happens, you do not have to pretend to be an angel, it is bad. My post is in response to a display picture put up by my friend Aremu Abisola , please find it below. Now, let's get down to business. Suicide is no joke and as such, it should not be something used to humour people. If you suspect that a person has suicidal thoughts and you know that you really do not care, please stay away. Most people only reach out to people during such times because they want gist. They just want to know what could be making you feel so bad, and once a person speaks about it, tha

"I've never seen you wearing neck pieces." I get that a lot from people who are caring enough to notice my everyday fashion. Sometimes, I get, "Why don't you wear earrings?" of course I wear earrings, just not everyday. Winifred is not a regular girl child. She can have her hair in 7 different hairstyles in one week but she doesn't apply the same variety to her use of jewelry, when she uses any at all. She uses tiny children earrings because, they're more beautiful than the bigger ones, to her. She never learned to wear neck jewelry because LIFE WAS ALREADY DOING ENOUGH IN TRYING TO KILL HER. Occasionally, she got gold necklaces and foreign chokers as gifts but they always remained better suited for her wardrobe. She would look at them on most mornings and smile, she was a proud owner of fantastic neck pieces. She could never wear them, LIFE WAS ALREADY CHOKING HER.

They came for my friend yesterday. Torches and knives in their hands, dragging him away. The rest of us didn't know where they were taking him to, but we knew we would never see him again. He kicked and fought with all of his strength, he didn't want to go. This was modern day slavery, or worse, genocide. We do not know these people, and why they have brought us here but we know that they do not love us. It all began one morning, when we were betrayed by our father and brought here. I call him father because, he is the one I had always known as our protector. He would feed us, shelter us, and when one of us was sick, he would take us to the doctor. The morning it began, we were all eating peacefully when father came with canes and flogged us out into the open. Then a stern looking man came down from a vehicle, looked us in the eyes and gave an affirming nod to father. He gave him some cash and we were tied, beaten and forced into a lorry with the stern looking man drivin

Yes, are you thinking of the exact same thing? Yes? No? For most people, the toilet is the most conducive place to make 60% of the day's decisions but for me, it is the bathroom. Actually, not 60% of my decisions are made in the bathroom but one insignificant yet significant decision. Everyday, I struggle with a terrible dilemma in my bathroom. The moment I walk in, take my towel off and hang it, I begin to consider my entire existence and my thoughts shift from life to death. Sometimes, I consider if it will be better to hang myself since my towel seems to dance beautifully from its hanging position while I wallow in misery. I ask myself questions like, "will anybody notice I didn't show up for work, if they don't see me at the office today?" and "will anyone go into panic and wonder if something happened to me, like, did I die?" In between these questions, I think of taking the bold step and ending it all at once but fear pushes me back, like every

There is something so sad about the word 'memory'. It depicts all that was and maybe, is no more. I do not know why everytime I hear that word, it dances towards my ears like a sad woman in search of her lost lover on the dance floor. Whenever I think of the word, all that I can remember is his warm embrace and ever happy mood. Sometimes, I get sad and blame myself for his death. They say that sometimes, the only way to show you love someone is to let them go. I felt that I needed to let him go so that he could be with Betty. We were best of buddies but there was a limit to what I could do for him, he really needed his own kind of woman. Till date, I still have not forgiven myself. I remember that very day, when I opened the gates of my house and let my dog Terry run out to the stray dog which the community had named Betty, to have some fun. I watched as he ran to the love of his life and almost as he reached her, he went up in the air. Hit by the sanitation truck, Terr

There are quite a number of things that you regret doing after you have done them. By this time last year, I prayed for my life to be just as it is right now, it was one of the few new year resolutions that I actually kept. Right now, I do not know what prompted such rash and stupid decisions. Right now, I am out of sanitary materials. Right now, I am glued to my bathroom floor, wondering when this pain will go away. Wondering when, these body fluids will stop their procession from my below, stop mocking me for my terrible and youthful choices. True love was all I ever asked for, and I thought I got it. All the nights I spent with Ade were miserably fun. He would take me to the sweetest spots in town and I would eat desserts and ice-cream to my satisfaction. He really did leave a lot of memories with me before travelling. He left this calamity in my stomach which I am now being forced to expel all alone. He never returned my calls even when I told him that I felt the drugs the physi

They say that when sadness approaches,  She sends a wind of confusion ahead of her.  They say that when sadness approaches,  She scatters the dust before her.  Sadness approached, But we did not know We were lulled instead.