Impacting Positively

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...