Impacting Positively

 What makes a year a year? what makes a month a month? what makes a week a week? and what makes a day a day?  Hardly is it the time frame allotted it or the seasons in the frame but the activities in it. Take for example a University academic session. It is not usually fixed to a particular number of days although there is a calendar. What is most important is that the semesters are completed and not that the time fixed must be stuck to. If for example there is a strike or a problem, the school has to suspend activities meaning the initial fixed date for the duration of the semester has to be extended. Ahaaa! Now you get my point!     So dear reader what am I trying to say? In short, I do not want you to throw away all the goals you  set for 2015! I always hear people talk about new year resolutions and how they made them the year before but could not achieve it. The main thing is to ensure that you work  diligently at what you do. Here is why it is ...

  Wetin man pikin go do Them say education na di best legacy Man pikin go read book Work work e find tire Them de ask am ‘’who is your father’’ Man pikin use him certificate begin sell akara Even akara no sell Nobody wan chop akara again Na meatpie be oga now Man pikin say okay E turn landlord for road Begin beg for food chop People cos am,Man pikin you be ote. As man pikin taya, e carry gun E do, e do, money begin enter Friend way plenty pass garri Man pikin begin get, e turn king. When olopa go catch man pikin All the friend them tear race Them say but why Why man pikin no go sell akara.

My man went to town  And came back with a new accent  He no longer likes my pastry  He prefers to drink his new tea  He brought a new dressing along too  One that makes him hotter in the sun And shiver in the cold, worse still  He brought a pale woman To keep his bed warm She was called Civilization.

Greetings dear family! It is with a big smile on my face that I write today and I know most of you already know why. Well, for those who do not know, Binogun Winifred was nominated in the category of Best Teenage Writer in the Nigerian Writers' Awards (NWA). To begin with, this nomination has exposed me (laughing) , I know most of you thought I was way older and now you have learnt the truth. It is all good though, at least this way some people who have been asking when I am getting married will stop for now.     Age is actually a thing of the mind, so disregard my numerical age and keep respecting me, after all, I think I deserve it. I'm in my joking mood today, maybe because I'm back home with my family and I can finally eat good food and drink malt at my wish or maybe not. Maybe it is because of you! You dear readers who have always been there for me through thick and thinnest thin . I just want to say thank you and acknowledge the fact that my works have been influ...

Reintroduction, I am Binogun Winnie, daughter of God and your African sister both in mind and flesh. One thing though has not changed and that is the fact that I still have the intention of feeding you good literary food. Today, I will be posting the highlights of my interview with Tinotenda Mushore, granddaughter of Andrea Jacob Mushore. He was the first black millionaire when Zimbabwe was still called Rhodesia. Enjoy!! I'm Tinotenda Alexandra Anesu Mushore, from the Shona tribe born and partly raised in Harare.My grandmother (ambuya) is one of the few women who was encouraged by her husband to be a proactive member in the society. No matter the circumstance  they found themselves, they always gave back to their community and even till now my ambuya still runs an orphanage. My granddad (sekuru) had aloof properties that he would rent to people that were not always given the opportunity to start their own buisnesses. Despite all his efforts during the agitation for independ...

Hey you! What were you expecting to see here? Another poem?, oh I'm sorry but it is time out. Today I just feel like sharing something with my WT family . I know most of you who read my poems sort of envy my writing and the like. You likely think I've got this whole strong purpose driven mood in front of me. Truth is, for a very long time I've actually been struggling with myself. I've thought of several careers such as horticulture, painting , catering ,makeup artistry and even tailoring to mention a few (yes I said A FEW, its weird but I've been into a lot of things ). Nothing has really worked for me. However, the good news is that I have finally found my dream in my "sokoto"(Yoruba word for pants/trousers) after traveling to Sokoto . So close yet so far huh?  I know some people may be disappointed with this post because they actually thought I had found my dream much earlier. Truth is, writing has only just become my dream now. All along it was a h...

 A box of dreams  A box of nightmares unleashed  Pictures of green were painted  But we came and met mud  Maybe we should have listened  Maybe I should have waited  Ploughed the barren crust of earth  But that was no option  I am here now Success or not I shall die here  But then I'm confused  Every morning I see people Everywhere  I wonder to myself  Are they like me  Waiting and wishing  Praying and persevering  For a miracle That will clad them   In riches  In fame  In recognition I hope not  I must be the only one.

Gentleman wants to marry me I say Mr tell me why He says oh I love me an independent woman Who doesn't need me to stand One that I don't have to worry about Raising her up if she falls. I say I no marry Yes I'm strong But I want a man Strong enough to lift me up And be my pillar of support So we can give our excess strenghts To those who lack them To the lame A new leg to rise again.

Most times we are  in a hurry to discard negative people. Yes, they are bad blood, but they are very useful. To me, they are my source of inspiration. If you tell me I can't do something excellently , I hear you but do not listen to you. I hear you so I can constantly reply that voice in my head, people like this make me put on my A game. I like to see people and show them what I did, often times,  ideas they never believed in. Negative people are like trash, but why burn trash? When you can bury it in your compound and use it to fertilize your plants. Trash doesn't belong in the house, negative people do not belong in your circle but they have a place in your life. They have a function, allow them serve that purpose and experience the happiness that comes from rising above societal norms and limitations.

Eyes, Legs, Ears and Mouths The Supreme gave us all That we may function That we may use them. But now you keep them locked Your mouths have become rust Unable to open Owing to years of abandonment. If you cannot use it To say the the truth To chastise the crown Then give it out. To the dumb who crave it Who will tell truth And ask for their rights And not keep quiet and suffer. Give it out, to a good course And let posterity prosper Not to be choked to death Before its birth, 'cos you can't talk!

How many more elections shall we have Before our oil is given us legit? How many more campaigns Will come and go Fueled by the sweat of tax payers? How many more sons will die wastefully Plunging mothers into temporary insanity? How many more stillborn white elephants Shall our government bear? How many more will grow fat Off the owed salaries of our parents? How many more sick children Will be given lozenges for typhoid? Before we realise That these people never loved us. Lying in wait like lions upon a goat They devour us. Living lavishly like Pharoah Off the Israelites, they milk us dry. These people never loved us, Take note, I never said they hate us They simply NEVER loved us.

Let a woman be All what she wants The bad, the bad and the bad Let a woman roam Let her fly And do not confine her To the smokey chamber. Let a woman fly away Do not map her life out Do not tap all her youthfulness Till she shrinks like a palm And begins to harbour maggots Till she fades away Let a woman be. Let life listen to her 'stupidity' Let a woman be Be everything beautiful Good and bad She will learn Let a woman be, Man.

I see all my problems disappearing Like dew on a hot morning No more where they once stood dancing. Oh see all my problems dying In flocks, away they're running You see this smile i'm wearing? You hear the song i'm singing? You see the way I'm dancing? Well my problems have gone And my happy future is born Finally arrives the dawn And my happiness is rekindled Like the dying flame of a candle. If I can triumph Don't despair Your salvation cometh soon!

This is not a love poem To a mister who my heart has This is a sad poem A dirge for posterity A satire to the greedyguts And a prayer to the heavens. This is not a love poem This is a cry for salvation A call for rebirth of morality For if we forever shrink back Like snails at the slightest touch We shall forever remain in one place. This is not a love poem It cannot be For love deserted us long ago Chased by fibbery and egotism Leaving us naked Like skinned sheeps in winter time.

Nasels class of '16 The family God made to bring me joy It's been three years of fights and play But I must say, even in fights Deep in antagonism, I found love And in beefs, found laugher. Tomisin my dear, get well soon. Sola Oloyede, get well soon too. Varon, get well soon toooo. Aremu, stop being a witch Ruquoya seems to have retired She no longer amuses us in class. Tanimoomo, a girl I admire in silence David, it's time you begin to 'Kill yourself' Nengi, I have nothing to say about you. Mr Kazeem my main man, cheers Mathais my brother, keep being real And Seun my love, keep being exceptional. I have a few lines left and many people left Demi turned Tamie, I wish I had your voice Yombo's height I wish I could steal And Adeola's black beauty too. Doris would kill me if I don't mention her So I have Bukky Bukky my political commentator How market? I can't mention everybody But I just want to say Without Nasels cl...

My favourite weather of all She so beautifully announces her arrival When you see children running Traders gathering their wares And hear the happy dances Dances of rust corrugated roofing sheets Moving up and down To the tune of the wind You know she is coming Then she sends her convoy Ahead to clear the way And that one comes seizing daylight You know she is very close When suddenly You feel it on your skin Just a little, a little more And then The heavens open their gates Rain!

Hello readers, what's up? I'm sure you people know I'm not a gossip blogger but damn! I just had to say something about this Toke's issue. Now I'm really pained because people are blaming the lady. Fine, maybe she might have been at fault, I don't know but is that what she needs right now? Name calling and blames? I normally do not take sides when it comes to controversial issues but you see this one? I'm taking sides with Toke not because she is a lady but because she was wronged!  Everybody on twitter seems to think cheating is normal for men and quite honestly, that statement goes far in showing the magnitude of complacency that has taken over some people's sense of reasoning. For those who don't know, there is something called a Marriage Vow where you pledge faithfulness to your mate. But then you know the funny part? People have turned the 'for better for worse' against Toke saying she must remain married but nobody told the husban...

Bread and butter envies this A friendship heaven couldn't miss. We just had to display our bliss Perhaps a bit of it can give the world peace. He's my special wing  man I'm the pancake, he the pan And he spins me like yarn Off my feet,to land in his arm. I think he's thinking too far His emotions I should bar Lest they spill as hot water from a jar Whatever the outcome,make or mar. Dear Friend, we're just friends And No, you're not my Prince Charming Nor I your Cinderella.

Today in the hallway I was thinking Thinking and talking aloud I was quite aware of my display One that drew comical expressions So beautifully on faces that passed But they were not my concern They scarcely could be I had seen a homeless orphan that day And talked a bit with him His name was Ibro Actually Ibrahim but he said Ibro And I loved the child Under his dirt and ragged clothes I could draw the perfect figure The figure of my dream unborn son There is nothing I could have done Than part with a few notes Which will never be enough Ah, back to the hallway These people must think Think I am mad But No I'm only pained That Ibro will starve again tonight While you and I eat He, no, they Others of his kind Will sleep under a bridge tonight While we complain of trivial issues How the bloodsucking things disturb But then again back to the hallway I git up and smile I say to myself Wherever you are Just be good,Ibro.

Hello hello dear readers, what's up? I guess I'm in a really good mood today just I just thought I'd share something funny(maybe not so funny) with you. Well the other day I was on twitter and got hold of a very funny twit fight between two ladies. Obviously one was against Bruce Jenner's sex change (I'll write about that soon) and the other was in support. Long story short! I just want to talk about how our character affects the quarrels we have and how real mature people should handle quarrels.   Well I'm a lover of quotes and proverbs so I'll start off with this quote from Andre Gide " Most quarrels amplify a misunderstanding " You see dear friend, when people quarrel they do so because they do not agree on the same thing or because they do not even understand the other person's view. So what am I saying? As the well brought up person that you are :) (no flattering here) try as much to understand where your co-quarreler is coming...

Maddest of all bulls Strongest of warriors I hail your prowess. Mother of everything stupid And child of an insane I hail your prowess again Jezebel. Who can please you? Who can please you Jezebel? Is it the fools who you never approve? Or the wise who you choke? Your path is like the red sea Unthreadable by anybody coming after you And your reasoning like Creon of Thebes You must have your way. But I know your end afterward It is damnation, shame and death Let them who can hear hear She is an empty  rot coconut And whoever follows her Of course rots too.

Five whole months have gone by and we're in June *yaay* It's funny how time goes by so fast when you're busy with a lot of things. I have noticed that just as the days have been going by very quickly so also has the number of fashion retailers on the Internet been growing. Now I know you're wondering, where is this girl headed? I'll be fast about this.  You see, dear reader, these online retail outlets make shopping easy and stress free by presenting themselves to you rather than you going out in search of them. The problem here is, you tend to spend more by buying what you do not need especially because of the way these retailers present their wares so beautifully. More troubling is the fact that this form of shopping encourages buyers to spend money they have'nt earned yet! While delivery may sometimes take a few days to weeks, consumers easily allocate their incoming allowance to buying items even before the cash has 'landed'. Buying something t...

Hello Winnietalker loyalists what's up? I'm sorry for my partial presence and literary unstableness which has resulted in a series of continuous poems and no article. The reason being that words fail me every time I try to write an article but it never does when it comes to poetry because poetry is spontaneous. I apologise to those who love Winnietalker but have been unable to form a relationship with poetry due to its sometimes difficult to understand nature. That's that, down to business.  Whenever I write, I write because something has really angered or saddened me and so today, I want to vent my anger right here. I'm not too happy about the way people talk these days, youths and elderly ones alike. I find it so sad to see that at a difficult time such as one the world is passing through when all we need are words of soothing nature and of therapeutic effect people are still being mean.  So many times we blurt out expressions before we think about them and do not ...

If I ever go missing Search me out not For I've gone digging For the happiness I have not Farther, i'm sailing Be it cold or hot You'll see me paddling With all I got Fighting, struggling Worthing not more than a Clarias rot Fighting and dying Painfully, paddling and pushing is my lot. I see my destination at last, Not too far away, Seats gloriously on the throne The beautiful city of Ignorance.

Raped by Lucifer I present my blood I call him Achilles heel Power possesor of everything fiery Yet so vunerable to destruction. Dreams, hopes, goals All I birthed in my mind With no midwife to help Everything would have been Edenly But Achilles' heel never let them be. Should a goddess fear anyone? Should a king fear anything? Then why then do I fear comrades? Or am I not a demi? Achilles speaks, he tells me everyday, I am one. Maybe I should have my feet cut Become bold and bend betrayers before me But a warrior cannot be legless I guess then, I and you shall embrace him Totally and fully for Achilles is not enemy. He is part of every poor begger and rich King The only Caution be to tame him. Yes we need imperfection In order to attain perfection.

Knock Knock I did Shut Shut the door remained Give me something to feed Deafness they feigned. Clothing I said I need To cover up my pain, But she roared like a lion For me to run or be devoured. No respect,treated like a kid I have a business which never gains So now to survive, I must eat weeds Whether or not it rains. Slowly and smoothly a stab is sown deep I do not cry , for at least, I can say bye to pain. She is a bion Thinking not, advancing and causing tremor.

Alone in the town of the dead  All I do is cry out my pain For what use is it if I am among humans? Humans who do not value morality Who despise reason  And who have killed independence.  You think I am foolish Because I have questioned tradition Or is it because you don't understand my ways? Or because I mock your kings Those who rip you off daily? You don't understand me Verily, I am alone. Tell me the truth Do you sometimes wonder if they lie to you? Do you understand them? The clerics The elders The society Do you? I can't be alone, no, I cant. Join me Let us ask questions Like the snail We may be slow in triumphing But certainly we will rise Rise after every fall Rise and walk again After they push us down.

The tears you cause today  Flow down side by side  My cheeks like a valley lead them on  Down and down, birthing a river  One that shall divide us eternally  Yesterday, I could die for you Today, you are dead though alive, You worth nothing to me now  The gates to my compound reject you.  Dont cry dont beg Not that you will For your ego is big , Risen like fine bread  So big it chokes your senses to death.

They say love is the key I say yes, to misery. They say love covers all I say yes, all sense of thinking. So what is love? Love is the bee that stings Love is the thief that robs It is like the rainbow Beautiful, but never stays long Love is the traitor that pledges allegiance Love is a lie. It's the false thunder that strikes in a drought Giving false hope  And gives the pretence of rain It is the walkway to the grave. The next time love smiles at you Tell her you know her already Too well to be fooled Too well to be deceived.

They want you flushed away Because you are the reminder of pain They never want to meet you Because like your father They claim you shall devour Yes, become the rupturer of hymens They claim you are evil So your bones must be crushed No, it shall not even form They have abandoned me Now it is just us. I have become outcasted Carrying my luggage of pain alone Lacking even my mother's love But I swear in my sweat You shall never lack My slender breasts shall feed you My long legs shall support you When I carry you on my back We shall make each other happy For all we have, is just us. If you are evil, I like evil If you are pain, I love pain You are my little god And I shall worship you. You shall become fearless You shall prosper for me For I shall suffer for you Angrily like a mother hen I will guide you my child You have every right to life But nobody thinks so Just us.

My coloured box cries with pain It tells me they have done it again Scores have been reduced to manure The mother separated from her nurtured But like a cadaver I feel no pain So why should I it feign? I am insulated Against pain Against hurt Against sadness I am used to it To having such news for breakfast It is no longer sad I feel no hurt I feel no anguish I am no longer afraid Pain insulated this heart.

Hope asked for another chance For one more last dance I said No Hope said we have built an empire So this love we must not let expire I said No. Hope is wicked and vain It yields no gain It tells the farmer rain shall come It tells the barren she shall be a mum But I have said No, to hope. I want reality So I killed that mentality The one that hopes. And took the ropes, Rode my cart away, fast Like a maiden eloping , fast fast! I turned my back, I said No.

It gets better by the day  Every drop collected, into an ocean  And when the sun shines, I make hay  So now, like Mr Soldier at attention  I advance, ready to conquer.  Hands on the trigger, ready to shoot  Standing at the shore, awaiting the wave  Diving in, not testing with a foot  Bursting forth, out of my cave  I advance, ready to conquer.  For oh! I have held back  Held back so long I died  So long that I chose the dark  For peacefully, there I cried  But now, I advance, ready to conquer  Aware of my flaws  Aware of my beauty  Aware of my scars  Aware of my strength  I advance, ready to conguer.

Seated here in the dark To the world, turned my back Feelings of resentment and sorrowing Synchronised with the blood flowing. I have been reduced to an animal Cut like meat, treated like a criminal I have been cut. Does this make me a woman? Or less a human For I died the moment I was cut And left to weep away my hurt. Even when I screamed, they smiled They say I know nothing, I am a child But now, I have been cut. If I ever live long enough To have my own, I shall be tough Shielding her from beasts Who like ants on a roach feast. I shall protect her and be firm You should too, from them I know the pain, I have been cut before.

I shall not be a conformist, not today neither tomorrow. I shall never allow myself be boxed into stereotypes prepared by the society. I shall never allow fear of rejection push me into the crowd. I shall break the rules, refuse the norms and do my thinking myself. I shall weigh my options carefully, I shall not be a conformist. I shall be different, I shall add spice to the world and I shall make the world wonder in amazement. I shall be me, not you, nor you, nor you. I shall think independently. I shall set a path for myself, I shall be me.

On days like this I wonder if the mad worry Do they have fears like I do? Do they think of tomorrow? Or they just go with the wind. I think they must be fortunate Unaware of you and I Unaware of our religious routine Of the vanity of fashion and society Free from hate Free from pain. Like a shelled snail They reside in tranquility. I envy them every time For their wisdom surpasses ours They don't beg nor work They never stress And yet they never die of hunger. So here's to all the mad people I'm getting ready, ready to join you.

Fishes Everyday and everywhere we see them Clad in rags, they walk firm Looking like those of the stone ages Prancing about, looking like savages. Unscaled Fishes Carrying about dirt and trash Appearing like a sick dog in weather too harsh Carrying about name tags Undignified, yet they brag Of how good they appear Putting on display their wares. Unscaled Fishes Even the fishermen dislike them But they catch them At least they quench hunger But are remembered not a day longer.

Sandra handed Phillip the cash and said "That's all I have". Grudgingly, he took it from her ,counted it and suddenly,frowned."This is just a hundred and fifty" he said. Sandra made for his hands, she wanted to hold them and tell him how difficult it had been for her to raise the sum but he stormed out of the house, banging the door after him.      This was the sixth time in four months Phillip had come to her for money. He had asked for money for several things ranging from settling a loan, helping a relative and now, taking care of his sick mother who was battling breast cancer. She couldn't understand why Phillip did not want her to see his mother. Of course, he had given the reason that he wanted her to recover first but Sandra sensed a lie.     Meeting his mother was the least of her problems now. Due to Phillip's constant request for money, she had run into debt and was having a hard time paying her house rent and buying stock for her s...

Who deserves life? Who deserves love? Who deserves family? They said I did But they lied. When they came for me And torched my humanity out Like the cow whose master I was Nobody put up a fight for me. But how can you? You turn your head away Away from my corpse Away from my problems And complain of your trivial issues Of how your anus itches. It ought to itch For inside of you Is dirt everywhere I want revenge For the dead husband I never had For the child who kept yelling Mama But Mama never came Mama is gone Everyone is gone But please fight for me Keep me alive And fight for tomorrow. Dedicated to victims of the January 2014 killings in Baga, Borno State, Nigeria. Even though I knew none personally, I feel I had a friend among them, and for this imagined friend I wrote this poem. Dear sister, goodbye.

He always flees When he sees what's inside. When he discovers the strengths He runs away, Like the Jew from a leper But you must love me this way. He says I am too much to handle But every night I wonder, Must a woman feign weakness? Must she hide her real self? Must she give him false glory? Must she deny her intelligence? Must she allow his stupidity rule? I am sorry, But you must love me this way. Maybe others can ,but I can't If we must be, You must love me this way Forever.

When we turned our backs on the world  And shut our ears to their word They said we were mad  For they couldn't understand us  But really, they couldn't stand us For we were willing our minds to dare Rather than continually live in fear Fear of what they said was bad  So they said we were mad

As Fati made sure everything was in order, she couldn't help but think about what her daughter was up to. She abandoned what she was doing and went to the bride's hut. She asked for everybody to leave and then she asked Amina what she was up to. Amina smiled but refused to talk. Fati, becoming nervous asked Amina again with deep pain in her eyes and this time, Amina spoke.    With sudden anger in her eyes, she told Fati she had defiled herself with Usman, her father's cattle boy the night before. To her, that was the only way to get back at her parents since everybody knew what shame a mother and father would bear for having received so much gifts for a disgraceful child from the in-laws. As Amina spoke, Fati gave way to tears. It had never before happened in her family lineage. All the girls in the family had been chaste and so, the thought of Amina's wickedness hurt her. Suddenly, she got up and stormed out of the hut.    Not sure of whether to tell her husba...

Amina felt so warm in Adamu's arms and did not want him to let go of her but she knew that he soon would. The plans had already been made, her in-laws would come the day after tomorrow to take her to her husband's house. She was not sure if what she felt was anger or disappointment. Disappointment that her father had given her in marriage in exchange for a farmland. She was angry too that Adamu had not put up a fight for her. They had been lovers since their mid-teens and he had fought quite a number of boys in the village who dared come close to his Amina.    Amina was the village beauty with the curves of a goddess and fierce eyes that only calmed down at the sight of her lover Adamu. Nobody could have imagined that she would end up the wife of a blind man who was older than her father and already had two wives but here it was, all happening so fast. Everybody was surprised and some were happy about it especially Hanatu who had always had her eyes on Adamu. Of course a few ...