Adeboro

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Tag father

Cooking Lies and Jollof

My sweat pores overworked today, dear Lord! I was in so much trouble; it was almost hilarious. So, I had been lying to my dad about my grade in school because my dad is a very strict disciplinarian and I just grew up believing that in order to live a flogging-free life, I have to lie. After my first year in the university, I just knew I could not make

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UnSeparating: Dad

I chose my dad first. Easily. He’s almost always full of rage but he’s largely reasonable. I went to his house. It was obvious that a woman lived there. Daniel and I know that he has a woman who comes over occasionally; he only just never lets us meet her or vice versa.  He told me to wait for him in his make-shift study. I smiled. Dad always referred us

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Oh Shoot!

*This piece was inspired by and is dedicated to my only recent friend; the deaf and mute assistant tour-guide I met today at Olumo Rock, Abeokuta, Ogun state, who could handle a camera more than most talkatives can.  I couldn’t even have asked you for your name. Thanks for your help today! **** I was born on the 23rd April 1993. I read the diary in which my dad documented

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Don’t Think!

People think too much and although it irritates me, it also excites me to think that they have left just me (and a few others) to supply obvious answers to questions.  The obvious answers to questions are always obvious because they are true. But that’s very rebuttable… As I have been forced to concede.  Anyway, for instance, I went for a job interview and at the group interview stage, a

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The Way I See

Father why do we all scamper; When you come home tired from work? Could it be that you carry all year’s work on your back ?  Or that we were superimposed upon you as your children and you’d rather not see us? *** Mother, why do scream at us so loud; Like someone with an inbuilt amplifier? Could it be that you don’t think our tiny ears can accommodate your

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Ojuoluwatelemi

Ojuoluwatelemi, This is daddy. And this is a little awkward. I don’t know where to start so I’ll start from describing where I am and why I’m here. It’s a small room with just one window. It’s stuffy but that’s the least of my worries. There’s a really hungry looking policeman standing by the door. He is scratching his crotch too frequently and shaking his head. I think he must

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Witho*t U

Prompt: March 4 Twenty-five There are 26 letters in the English language, and we need every single one of them. Want proof? Choose a letter and write a blog post without using it. (Feeling really brave? Make it a vowel!)   Dear Mom, Happy Mothers’ Day. When I closed my eyes and picked the letter I picked from the box, I realized how hard a task this might be for

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Karma Chameleon

Prompt: Feb 8  Karma Chameleon Reincarnation: Do you believe in it? If the concept of reincarnation postulates that dead persons return in their spirit or soul-ish form to dwell in other men’s bodies, then I do not believe in reincarnation. When people die, they die. The body returns to dust, but the spirit, which is the real person cannot posses another body… because I mean, God makes every human being

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My Husband is 45!

She walked to the make-shift stage in the room in her lovely lovely leaf green dress and gently hit her glass with a small spoon. ‘I want to give a speech for and to my husband’ she said, smiling her radiant smile. The room went hush save from the whisperings from some of the guest. Other guests just cast furtive glances and looked rather uncomfortable. She proceeded nevertheless. ‘Good evening

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I Want To Tell You…

I want to tell you of how I’m hanging by an almost-invisible string of happiness; How I walk on eggshells around myself, afraid that my thin smile might just break into uncontrollably bawling. I want to tell you how I feel when I look at all my friends laughing like they have no worries in the world; How I feel when I see her, most especially, having the most perfect

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