₦airaland Forum

spacefreak:
I like the beginning, not sure what to expect yet. I am getting really lazy to write these days, I need help.

If you have an idea for a story, try fleshing it out. I couldn't open the link you sent

“The statement is strange coming from one who detested mother but sometimes I can’t help but think it might not be for our own good. Sister Gadina, I don’t know if I like this Danladi…”
“Ssh…don’t say it out loud, lest mother’s enemies hear and rejoice. You certainly do not think everyone here wishes us well. And what is this I hear about Danladi you think I loved Zaki at first? He was disgusting to me and I felt nothing but disdain for him especially as he was much older than I had envisaged in my daydreams and with me thinking that I was always going to be a first wife but I have come to understand and feel something for him and even being the first or fourth wife is nothing as long as you get what you want most of the times.”
“I have heard tales such as yours and have also heard of others who never felt anything for their husbands so it’s not as open and shut as you say it is and besides I’d mind if I was the third or fourth wife.”
“Oh, so you want to wax philosophical on me?”
“No sister, just as we assume that women feel a rush of motherly warmth when they first hold their babies, we do know that it’s not true for all women. I don’t want to manage anyone or be managed. I feel far removed from all of this; I have done everything mother has ever wanted, why can’t I have this one decision to myself.”
“Because…”
“Hauwa, where are you?” Mother’s voice rang out from across the room interrupting Sister Gadina and even though the veranda was kind of dark, I winced and so did my sister.
“Put on a smile now, for your sister perhaps?”
“What if I go in with a big frown instead?” I asked mischievously leaving my sister to shake her head at me.
Smiling woodenly, I stepped into the room and walked towards mother, all eyes were on me.
“Hauwa, where have you been hiding? This is your party and you are not even here to host it, hiding away like a little child.” Mother scolded me smiling as if to remove the sting in her words and stretching her hands to pull me firmly into her gathering. Did she have to say that in the midst of everyone?
“Barka da yamma,” I murmured in general to the group.
“Is that how to say good evening to our esteemed guests and our in-laws?” Mother asked with a tinge of exasperation in her voice.
“She means well,” father interjected, perhaps to show that he was still the man of the house but he had disappointed me too much for me to care.
“How are you?” One ugly looking man in the group asked me.
“Very fine sir, thank you.”
“She seems quite timid though, nervous of Danladi already?” An elderly woman in the group asked. Everyone laughed as she continued, “don’t worry about him though, it’s his sister you should worry about, a bit like your mother which is a good thing, ladies of nowadays need a strong guiding hand.”
Oh, the joy of exchanging one prison for another, glamourous indeed!
“Quite true...” Someone replied as my mind drifted off. Yesterday’s event flitted across my mind.

Nmeri17:
loooool...the inspiration ireghe nkanga nkanga. must have been forst hand

Abeg oh, na for where I wan see am first hand, for this small Uyo? It was the man that had half of his limbs torn from him at Awka Bridge posted on this Nairaland that did it for me

Nmeri17:
looks like u just witnessed an accident scene

Didn't witness any...nsuto akam ke abong ano? Blame Nairaland

The dawn comes lying to us all
It whispers untrue promises
Promises of hope and fairness
Promises of longevity and laughter
Promises of deceit.
For how can we explain the Hiluxes that come
With back open ready to carry those
That would come back no more

The day is bright and fair
But not so fair to the spilled blood
For where do we lay our blames?
At the feet of the careless drivers,
Or at the crushed ones with scattered body parts;
Foolish enough to believe in the day’s promise
Or do we shake our fists at the skies;
That whispers hope of a better tomorrow?

Another bloodied body for the Hilux
Filled with dead dreams and promises
Filled with mouths that sought to protest at the unfairness
Another one flung into the Hilux
Another horror to gaze at with gazes averted
Another graphic undignified picture for the media
Another tired drive to the mortuary
For tomorrow, they’ll yet be another one for the Hilux


Dedicated to those who have lost their lives on the road either as passengers or bystanders. May their souls rest in peace

Nmeri17:
I ponder, if I spake to thee saying "thou art the wench after mine own heart" wouldst thou be dismayed, or filled with gladness, or will thou cast such tiding by the wayside as one casteth old bread away??

Taken, dear friend; taken.

Nmeri17:
hmmmm...ride me my lord

yu now doing poems?? wow. very soon you'll switch to hymns or prose

I am not now doing poems. I have always dabbled in it for as long as I can remember even though it isn't my calling

A Blip of Imperfection
Today - 8.20 pm
The room was filled with happy laughter. Glasses clinked as mini toasts were carried out. The waiters moved round the room almost invisibly with their trays. The young single women stayed in small groups taking sly glances at the single men. The men laughed at silly jokes and pretended not to notice the women, at least for that moment. Where did they all come from? I didn’t know almost all of them and yet here they were gathered for me.
The couples stuck together, the old ones looked round at the gathering and nodded their heads at the splendid arrangement. Of course, everything was perfect; it had been planned by the great perfectionist – my mother.
There she was, holding a glass, one hand slightly holding my father captive and yet still surveying the room for any imperfection. It was a grand evening one of her wishes as regards her last daughter was coming true. Of course, she always gotten what she was wanted.
I had studied what she wanted, become what she wanted and was going to marry who she wanted. I was indeed the perfect child, an exemplary daughter. The type of child all parents wanted, the one most girls hated and all men wanted. This was my engagement night. I was to be properly introduced to my fiancé this night. We had met once; two years back when a party was thrown after I had been awarded a doctorate, it was a fast introduction and we were left alone for two minutes before someone came and dragged me away.
I only knew his name and what he did but he must have been mightily impressed because the marriage proposal came immediately after that and mother came in beaming and told me how I had done her and the family proud and that she was going to throw me the best party ever. No, she didn’t even ask if I wanted to get married or what my feelings were; she never did that.
“Look at you! I have been looking all over for you, is this where you have been hiding?” My sister asked, holding a glass and stepping out on the veranda. She looked lovely in a sari gown and the veil she had over her head, made her more sophisticated. She looked happy.
“Why, is the party not to your taste dear madam?” I asked playfully, I loved my sister to bits. She was the closest I had to a friend – well, she was my only sister - but even she had been taken from me, married to an Alhaji as his fourth wife especially as she didn’t do all mother wanted academically.
“Funny, does mother know how cheeky you have become?” She asked tugging at my cheek playfully, coming to lean over the railings.
“Mother doesn’t know anything about me with the way she carries on.”
“Now, come on! Mother doesn’t do these things on purpose. It’s all for our own good. Take a look at me, I never thought I’d support mother on anything but things have happened that have made me understand why she does what she does, it’s all in our best interest.”

Nmeri17:


behold good health has been bestowed upon me. the light of mine Lord also shineth along my path at a time like this, thy friend is in search of a fair handmaiden

My heart gladdens at the news of thine health

Dear friend, why searchest thou thee for a handmaiden, when fairest maidens abide all over the countryside? Perhaps, my friend seeks for the hand of a particular wench? Speak up dear friend, that we might take thine matter to our dear lord

boolet:
Nice piece! Massages her master's ego as she tactfully pleads for leniency. The slave has everything to lose and with a rhetorical question says it's uncertain the master could lose.

Boolet, my elusive poetic friend. This poem got lost in the NL tsunami.

Someone once had an interesting view about this poem, that the master was the slave and the slave, the master/mistress. You are right about the ego massage

Nmeri17:

Guy, why you dey open teeth as if na only you dey use toothpaste?

How art thee?

spacefreak:
My pm dey act like mad man most times maybe na because say my account don old dey wear pampers. Try follow back make I try the matter.

E be like say you no receive my reply true true...

That I Might Forget

Sweat streaks across my brow
My heart beating faster than your thought
Ride me my lord,
Ride me that I might forget

Forget how easily I might slip
Into endlessness and despair
Harder my lord,
Harder, that I might forget

Forget the path that I chose not
Or how lowly I have sunk.
Easy my lord,
Easy, so we both don't crash

For I musn't forget my place
A slave doing the bidding of her master
Crossing lines that we shouldn't
Damning me to eternal despair
And you to what?

spacefreak:
but you understand me na. I go like make we talk but no be for here. Bad belle people dey everywhere.

Oya send PM. We no want make bad belle people even know the colour of the pant

Guy, this ya washing pant proverb no be here oh I laugh sotey I no fit type

spacefreak:
if I tell you wetin adee think so eh you fit no believam. I no fit dey outside dey wash pant. People eye dey everywhere