The land has forbidden you,
Worthless sons and daughters of avaricious hearts.
It wails upon your returns, screams at the sight of you, threatens demolishment,
For you have soiled upon it desecration.
Oh Returnees! Your feet are like that of Elephant,
So heavy and mannerless,
Dominating and inconsiderable,
That even the little ant dismisses its petition for colossal flesh.
The land is in a great distress,
For the ungrateful now trample upon it,
Not just as mundane inhabitants,
But as horrible pompous authoritative possessors.
Its wailing and screaming grow more thunderous,
Like a kid screaming for wants.
In need, you disowned the land,
In affliction you came back to it,
As if like a confused senseless spouse,
That jingles his pattern to a state of perplexity.
What then shall we say to the aggressive brags?
To the going ups and coming down?
To the imitative mouth that condemns the land for the pleasure of where it didn’t suck in the nipples?
Or has the Olukon refused to favour you?
Has disdain crept into your heart,
That you cannot bare the pain of seeing?
The land is indeed filled with troubled questions;
Sheathed in his heart that borne and grown worries.
Subduction emanating from the covetous hollowed mouth,
In readiness to vivify a promissory,
No, Let the land grieve and curse
For lies will beget lie,
Should it not, it will forever be encamped in mockery.
@Adesokan Opeyemi.

ORENTE… Ridwan. O


I want to sleep in peace and not in pieces,
Laying my head in your wondrous thighs,
Enjoying the frolics you unfurl,
For you are Orente,
The one whom I must marry.
Yes, I want to catch some cruise with you,
Trundling around in Germany today,
Embarking on hikes in Ibadan tomorrow,
Smelling the fragrance of Paris at next season,
For you are Orente,
The one whom I must marry.
I have philandered with so many a lady,
My thread has dared and interwoven a spicule,
My heart has been caught in midst of lust and loss,
But for you Orente, this feeling is indescribable.
This feeling cannot be compared to that of Romeo,
Nor Akin to that of Juliet,
But something much deeper,
Deeper than that of Sango and Oya,
That could intoxicate the Samson in me to reveal my strength to the Delilah in you.
Orente, could my exhausted pen be constantly filled in your profound ink?
Could I be called a nincompoop for your love ‘nins’ and ‘compoops’ me?
Could my past be burnt and buried in your glowing coals?
Could you hypnotize me like the horny demon that fell in love with the water maid?
Orente, I want to stare at the Hills and Mountains with you,
Trudge upon the hardened Rocks while our hands are entwined in lover’s circle,
Mimics the whitened race at your glaring presence,
While you laugh and laugh till your sorrows and past are forgotten,
Thus, interlocked in my lascivious arms,
For you are my Orente,
The one whom I must marry.
Fear and rejection defile humanity,
So long as they continue to exist.
If these are thought beyond requests,
And taken for no lust and Idleness,
If this feeling is equivocal,
And love is made to love itself,
I shall read this to them__the joys of all unions,
Should this day breed gloominess and meet opposition,
Never will my heart be opened to love,
Never shall I have need of sights,
Never shall a day beget smile but sorrow,
For you are my Orente,
The one whom I must marry.
@Adesokan Ridwan O.

Give Yourself Time to Grow.

I was in the salon one day when a lady came in to have her hair done. She had chosen an awkward hair style and they had began plaiting the hair. But the lady seemed restless and made to always check the facial expression of the hair stylist via the mirror.
“Ah Ah!, came the expression of the hair stylist with her mouth agape, what happened to your hair, did you cut it?”, she asked in astonishment.
“No o my sister, it’s one hair I made like that. When I loosened it, I found out that place just pulled out from the scalp”, the lady explained sullenly.
“I think I’ll cut the hair let everything grow back together”, she said.
“No don’t cut it, the hair stylist advised. It will grow back, just give it time. It’s not that bad, at least it’s at the middle not at the front line”.
The lady agreed and asked the stylist to make sure the place is properly covered.
Few months later, I went to make my hair and I met the lady there. This time she had a bright countenance and wasn’t restless like before.
Shebi that place don grow back abi ?”, the hair stylist asked her.
“Yes it has and it grew faster than expected. Thank God I didn’t cut the hair o”.
Most of us are too rigid with our lives, we see every difficult situation as an end. Most people don’t even think twice before taking a decision they might regret later on.
Things might not seem the way it should be. You might have not gotten to that level you expected. You might have gotten to a cross road where you feel putting an end may be the best.
But have you considered giving yourself time. Think through on that situation and give it time. You’ve done your calculations, you know what you’re expecting and when it should be, give it time.
Give yourself time to grow.
Give yourself time to heal.
Give yourself time to be patient.
Give yourself time to love you.
Give yourself time to be better.
Give yourself time to become you not someone else.
Give yourself time to go through that phase.
Don’t be too hard on yourself. The lines will surely fall in pleasant places, but while they’re yet to fall, draw them out.
Be you. Be original. Flow with your style.
Make sure you’re growing to be You, not someone else. There should be no comparison whatsoever with anyone. The only person you should compare with is YOU.
It’s a new month, don’t feel bad at what you couldn’t achieve last month, another opportunity is here for you to GROW.
© Toochi Sunny.
Creative Writer
Personal Development Trainer
Gender Equality Advocate
UN SDG Advocate

Easter and Chinelo

‘Chizy, Ada, both of you should get ready for prayer’

I heard the voice of my mum ringing the bell for prayer

‘Oh God I still want to sleep’ my eyes shuddered tightly,hoping she would pass my room without opening my door.

Disappointment slaped, my name came running out of her mouth even before she twited the door handle

‘Chinelo chinelo, oya oya get up let’s go and pray’

Although I wanted to act deaf, but it wasn’t possible because I knew that we both know that I heard.

‘Mummy nah’ I squeezed my face and pouted my mouth. All I wanted was for he to leave me to sleep

‘Eh what?’

‘Happy Easter’ I managed to say still maintain the same facial expression

‘Same to you too’ she replied

She woke my younger ones and took them to the toilet to urinate and then to the parlour to pray.

I dragged my body out of the bed, it’s easy to say my spirit nor my body was willing, half way to the parlour, my dad’s voice reminded me that I wasn’t properly dressed for the prayer; I turned round, headed back to my room, took out my rosary and grabbed my wrapper; I had to cover up my body else he would say I’m advertising my body for enticement.

I made up my mind that I would sleep while the prayer last but luck ran out on me when my mum ordered me to pray.

‘Chinelo pray for us’  when I heard it, I thought it was a dream till it registered in my brain that I was asked to pray.

‘In Jesus name…’ the prayer begun

After praying, I staggard into my room and threw myself on the bed

‘I really need to sleep at least for five minute’ I said to myself

Just as I was about to shut my eyes, dad voiced out

‘Chinelo what are we eating this morning, who is in charge of the kitchen today?’

‘Daddy it’s Chizy’ I replied with one eye closed

I was about to shut the opened eye when my mum’s voice rang out


I pretended as if I didn’t hear hoping she won’t call again

‘Chinelo chinelo!’

‘Maaaa’ I replied almost frustrated

‘Come and sweep and mob the house, what’s the time? Don’t you know that today is Easter? Do what you are supposed to do and come down stairs let’s cook’

‘Yes ma’

‘What is it nah somebody can’t even rest for 5 minutes’ I muttered

I wasn’t feeling sleepy anymore, they had finally succeded in sucking away my sleep.

The phone pluged just next to the fan

Seem to say
*’helloo you haven’t touched me o’*

‘I slept very late at night just because of this phone’ I sighed but couldn’t resist unplugging it, before anyone could say J A C K, I already logged in to WhatsApp, then Facebook, WordPress ,then instagram.

‘ Chineloooo’ it’s mum again

…’see you this girl don’t get me angry o, so you haven’t even swept the floor talk more of bathing your younger ones, don’t dare me oo else I will take your phone and smash it on the floor…’

‘ How did she know I was pressing my phone?? Mothers ehh’

I kept quiet thinking she would lower her voice  but she never did

‘ yes ma’

My little sister, Chizy, laughed her way into my room and added more fuel to the fire with her loud voice

‘Sisterrr stop pressing your phone, go and do what mummy is saying’. I almost knocked her mouth

‘Don’t let me come and meet you there ooo’  my mum continued, guess my sister has achieved her aim.

I droped the phone and went straight to bath my younger ones.

‘Oh God the soap has finished’

Although I knew asking my mum for soap will cause another case, still I knocked on her door,
‘Who is that!’ She answered like a lion ready to bite

‘Mummy I want to take bathing soap’

Immediately she opened the door…

‘ you see you ehh, you think I’m a fool or you think can take me for granted, I bought 500 airtime for you and all you have being doing is to press your phone up and down, this is the kind of character that will make your husband chase you out of his house, ehh what kind of human being are you? Don’t you know today is easter?…..’

‘Mummy please I’m sorry’
that’s was the only way out else she would shout till the neighbours know what I did.

I quickly did all the house chores, who wants to be reprimanded for being lazy… abeg make my ear hear word small

My cousin,Ada, and I started making preparations for the Easter delicacy, soon mum joined us.

After a while in the kitchen,I felt weak and sneaked to my room,

Before I could congratulate myself for the successful sneak out, mum yelled out


‘Oh God what have I done to deserve this eh’ though I pretended no to hear my name, it came ringing out again

‘Chinelo!my friend will you come downstairs!

‘Ok ma…
‘I ‘ve done the needful why can’t they just let me rest’

In no time Chizy walked in

‘Chizy please can you carry me up cos this bed don’t want to let go of me, my body is not willing to give it up’

She stared at me hilariously and gazed back at her phone.

‘See Chizy, I continued,…if I’m going downstairs you will be going with me afterall you are the one in charge of the kitchen.’

‘Chinelo! Chizy!’

mum seem to know my mind as she called out for both of us.

As soon as we reached downstairs, my little brother’s birthday cake was already lying at the dinning.

‘Oya you people should gather here let’s pray and wish Chiribe a happy birthday’ dad instructed.

I stood behind the celebrant with both eyes closed waiting for the prayer to begin.
After the blessings and birthday wishes I took the cake to the kitchen to cut a slice for everyone.

‘Chinelo’ dad called

‘Sir’ I replied

‘come and drink this wine’

I smiled, without hesitation I went in to grab a glass

‘Are you eating cake?,’ he asked as soon as I appeared

‘Yes sir, but I can still drink it like that’  i replied knowing he would tell me to come back for the drink after eating the cake.

‘It’s an alcohol and it will taste very bitter if you are eating something, go and drink water first’ he adviced

‘No nah daddy I can drink it like that’ I smiled

‘Because of a drink you are smiling, oya take and drink’.

‘Ok sir’

I took it and gulped down the drink.

‘How is it?’ He asked

‘It’s ok’ I managed to smile even though It was terrible.

‘Do you want more?’

I could hear my stomach say

‘More kee, noo don’t try it’

But my mouth said something else

‘Yes sir I want more’ he poured a little

‘Daddy pour more’

my mouth betrayed me again

My stomach became hot, very hot.

As if it was saying.. ‘you are mad, you never see anything’.

All I wanted was to act like big girl, so I gulped the last glass, it was indeed bitter but I’m a big girl nah, I smiled mischievously.

‘Chinelo come and change the gas cylinder the old one has finished’ that’s mum again

I stared at her and Ada who stood beside her

‘Ma?’ I thought I didn’t hear what she said.

‘Are you deaf? Go and change the gas cylinder’ she frowned

‘Are you sure she isn’t drunk’ dad questioned rather sacarstically

‘No daddy haba I’m not drunk’ I replied as I draged my body outside to change the cylinder.

‘Am I the one carrying Myself or is it breeze?’  I asked myself.
My stomach rumbled and dizziness seem to spin my body.

I was about to sneak upstairs again when my dad called me

‘Are you sure you are ok? Or are you feeling dizzy?’

I laughed rhetorically

‘Dizzy ke, noo o I’m ok, I’m ok’

‘Then where are you going to, go back to the kitchen and help out’ he ordered.

‘Daddy I’m coming first,just give me few minutes I will come back when the food is ready’

He knew it was useless talking to me cos it seem I was gradually going out of my mind.

I staggered on the stairs and finally landed on my bed

‘ oh thank…’

‘ Chinelooooooo’ my mum yelled out again

‘Oh God, this people want to kill me’😢 I almost cried

My elder brother
 knocked at my door

‘Mummy is calling you, come and serve visitors’ he said mockingly.

‘Please tell her that I’m sleeping, tell her that I’m dizzy or tell her that I’m in the toilet’  I pleaded

‘ no o you must follow me downstairs’ he insisted.

I had no choice but to go down

‘Take a plate and serve the visitors’ mum instructed

‘Yes ma’  I picked the plate and staggered backwards

‘If you mistakenly push anything down eh, I will slap that drink out of your body, try me and see just try me and see’

Chaii So this Easter😢😢

Trampled Chidiogor.

I sat on the ground watching my sisters work non stop under the scorching sun. I could feel stream of sweat rolling down my body and this irritated me greatly. I swatted the bead of sweat that had gathered beneath my jaw angrily. How did we reduce to this? How did our exotic and luxurious life metamorphose into this pain stricken life? How did I, Ikediegwu fall from my mighty throne? These were questions I couldn’t find answers to; questions that haunted me at the rising of the early morning sun.
Where was our wealth? our affluence? our respect? our dignity? No one remembered that this slave boy was once a Prince. No one remembered that my father was once feared and respected all over every kingdom.
I stamped my feet to the ground as I watched my fair princesses work on the field like low born. Their once fair skin glistening with sweat and suffering. Bitterness so great filled my heart that I could taste it on my tongue.
“Ike. Please, get up and work before master comes in.” Nnenna, my sister told me.
I threw a glare at her. “Who do you call master? Someone beneath you? Someone who should never look you in the eye?”
“It’s all in the past now Ike. You have to get accustomed to reality. Stop dwelling in the past. Face what is…”
“Enough! Speak no more. Not another word!” I shouted at her.
“Okay, but please come and join us before you get whipped like yesterday. You know your wounds have not healed. “
“I don’t care. I’m not scared of being whipped. I’m scared of living my life like this forever. Unfortunately, I’m the only one with this thought for my so called sisters have adapted to this life. A life of servitude! ” I spat as I got up.
I knew my words had hurt her greatly but I refused to turn back. I had never apologised to anyone except my father. For this reason, I was always beaten with canes made of thorns by the guards. My father was the only one I feared and respected. He was my model. I looked up to him in all things. It had always marvelled me how he could control a great kingdom. My father ruled his subjects with iron hand and laid heavy burdens on them. To me, this was a sign of superiority and authority. He was a tough man and I worshipped the very ground he treaded on.
The new king I served was one of my father’s chief and I loathed him with every ounce of energy in me for he, alongside other chiefs, was the cause of my predicament. He was the cause of my father’s death. He was the reason my life was destroyed. Seeing him brought back memories which had haunted and continued to haunt me. These memories embittered me. The event of that wicked day__ when everything I held dear was taken away from me__ was ever new in my mind. It replayed every night before I went to sleep and every morning when I woke up.
It was still like a dream to me and I blamed myself for every single thing that occured that dreadful day. Though my sisters believe I did my best, I felt I could have given my all to the fight. It was better to die in battle than live this life of pain and hardship. Sometimes dying was a better option than living. Living could be much of a hell to a person.
It was unexpected. No one had planned for it except the chiefs and the people. It didn’t cross my mind that the people would plan to dethrone their king. This was a mystery I was yet to unravel. My father sacrificed so much for the development of the Odio Kingdom. It was a wonder to how fast the people were to forget this.
The palace guards who were employed to protect the palace joined forces with the chiefs to kill their king. How the chiefs were able to stir the minds of the people was a mystery I was determined to understand.
They chose to attack when my father fell ill. This made me believe this treason was long planned hence the whispering and bowing of heads each time I walked past them.
I was the crowned Prince of Odio Kingdom. My mother was the first wife and I was her first fruit and only son. I was the apple of my mother’s eyes and the shining knight of my father. I was the chief warrior and I led my army to battle. My mother had once told me I was the replica of my father for my father was once a great warrior and had defeated many kingdoms. Because of this, other neighbouring kingdoms pleaded with my father to sign a peace treaty with them. My father was a roaring lion. Little wonder the toad decided to attack while the lion ails.
That day, they barged into the palace, setting the walls on fire. I had tried to fight but what could a lone man do to a mighty crowd? My step brothers were cowards and betrayals who cajoled their mother to get married to Chief Sohed, the new king.
My family and I were reduced to the state of a slave after the coup and were made to work in the palace field. I was subjected to things I had never been exposed to. Things such as hunger, pain, hardship and thirst. We were made to work harder than other workers on the field. We were given the least food and were beaten harder than the rest. My sisters were raped before my very eyes by people we called brothers. Each time I tried to fight back, I was cornered and beaten severely. The scars on my body was innumerable for new scars were added to the record each day.
My mother who was made to serve at the palace court died three years after the treason. I guess her eyes couldn’t behold the evil, Odio Kingdom had done to their king. Sohed had ordered that my mother’s body be thrown into the evil forest. I had struggled to take the body from them but I couldn’t.
There was a limit to what a man could bear and so I had planned to escape with my sisters. I woke my sisters up very early that morning and led them away from the palace skilfully. We were able to leave the city through a secret passage my father had shown me while he was alive. I didn’t know where we would go but I knew we were leaving the land of despair and pain. We got out of the city in the night. My sisters were exhausted by then. I couldn’t blame them for they were hungry and thirsty. We had not tasted anything; not even a drop of water. I tried encouraging them to be strong but they broke down instead. I couldn’t leave without them so I carried my youngest sister at my back while Nnenna who was older and quite stronger held Nnenna, my third sister up. However, this was fruitless for the guards caught up with us.
We were bounded in chains and were taken back to the Odio where Sohed commanded that my sisters be whipped and starved. It was heartbreaking to watch my innocent sisters cry out in pain; the whip digging deep into their skin and ripping their flesh apart. Things like this tore my eyes to reasons why I needed to be focused on my task__ the task of avenging my parents and restoring our dignity.
Little did I know that Sohed had something else planned for me. He didn’t order for me to be flogged but instead ordered for me to be taken away. While the guards took me away, Nnenna tried to go with me but I promised her that I would return. Little did I know!
I was taken to a cave and there, I never saw the light of the day ever again. My eyes were gouged out and I was bounded in chains. I couldn’t comprehend why such punishment was melted out on me. I wondered if Sohed had seen my inner thought of killing him and hanging his head on a stick in front of the palace. I wondered if he had known my burning the whole city.
It was shattering that I couldn’t be there for my sisters. I wondered if they still hoped for my return.
Despite being blind, I didn’t lose hope. My resolve to avenge my family was ever fresh in my mind. However, I couldn’t defeat Sohed. I grew thin out of hunger. It dawned on me that I was dying. I decided to write my story on the wall of the caves. It was a pity I couldn’t carry out my task.


I have a Dream
a big lofty Dream;
that I’ll become a Presenter
to be a great achiever
The views of my heart will be out
from my heart will my views sprout
because I have chosen to be a presenter,
the aflutter of my land will be in green amber
I have a Dream
a big lofty Dream;
that I’ll be a Dancer
the sounds of lBA drum will I attack like a prancer
my soul will earn for the UDU rhythm;
the culture of my nation will I solve like algorithm
I have a Dream
a big lofty Dream;
that I’ll be a Writer
the ‘ashes’ of this world will be penned by a ‘lighter’
great stories will be ‘righted ‘ and written;
irrational stories that are smitten
I have a Dream
a big lofty Dream;
that I’ll arise from my sleep
and jeep my dreams with a beep
Dreamers are the saviour of the world
but “Dreams are for the old”, I was told.
Catherine Ikonne


Born a Seed

Do you know you were born with a seed. At creation, seed(s) were given to each individual. You were given such seed because you were born as a farmer with a farmland. That seed has the potential for your greatness. It is what you do with it that determines your level of greatness.

Now, you might wonder, how am I born with a seed?. Let me calm your mind. The seed(s) you’re born with are the potentials, talents, gifts and abilities embedded inside you, which God has blessed you with. Your life is the farmland.

You being able to harness, groom and grow your seeds determine how your fruits will turn out to be. The quality of the fruits is dependent on the richness of the farmland as well, so make sure your life is well enriched.

Everybody is responsible for grooming his own seed. You are saddled with the responsibility of working on your farmland and improving it. Horn your seeds into greatness. Cultivate your farmland.

You are the farmer, so whatever you allow on it is what will grow. Get rid of every appearance of weeds – negativity, excesses, bad habits, inferiority complex, low self-esteem, not-good-enough syndrome, negative opinions, doubt, unbelief, worry that will choke your seeds. Don’t delay in getting rid of them.

Prune yourself daily through the word of God, and personal development. Remember you are responsible for growing and nurturing your seeds. Fan it into flames. Grow it to the biggest size.

Go through the process and grow the best fruit as possible, you are allowed. Nobody will grow your farmland, only you, because everybody has theirs. Use every method you can use.
Be deliberate in pruning the best fruit. Use all your efforts because, “the husbandman that laboureth must be first partaker of the fruits” – 2 Timothy 2:6. You are the first to enjoy your success before others, so give it your best shot.

What you do and the extent to which you use your seed determines the reward you’ll get. Exploit it. You are not expected to take back the seeds to your creator, but only fruits. Heaven has abundant resources, so it will not be useful there. You’re meant to grow and reproduce all seeds here nothing such be left unharnessed.

Search for equipment that will help you grow your seeds. If you’re incapacitated, hire labourers (coaches, mentors) that will help bring out the best fruit. Your goal is to grow your seeds and feed the world with it.
Stretch to any capacity, you are permitted, but don’t stretch out of God’s plan.

©Toochi Sunny
Personal Development Trainer

Down Heart.

Down heart
Here comes a soul of chattered hope,
Just like a river running down to the ocean,
The brain finds it bridge
But the seals that binds it to the ground weakens each day that passes by.
The heart cries out with a loud beat embracing its owner,
But the guilt of letting go
Seals it down towards its very own past.
A mighty rain came forth and washed it down towards its exile,
Letting the spirit purify the water,
Just as the water is finding it source,
The soul heals back with a United voice
Then the purified source gives its bearer a great stand to supply purity to all who values its worth.
Azoge #ělena 💓

Feminism… What You Don’t Know.

I was in my room one sunny afternoon when my room mate,Moyo threw a sharp question to us;

 “Are you a feminist?”

Esther, the girl who sat beside me on the bunk bed answered strongly

“I’m not a feminist!”

she went further to explain “I just don’t understand why some girls will claim to be feminists. When God created man, he formed woman out of the rib of a man; Just rib o and some ladies want to claim to be equal with men” . Moyo listened rather speechlessly but she managed to ask again;

 “what do you think feminism is?”

“Is it not the equality of men and women?” She sounded so ready for a heated argument

This feminism of a thing has gotten into the head of most ladies, they believe they can do whatever they like or live a certain rude lifestyle. It’s not as if I’m against feminists but the truth is that a lot of people has misinterpreted what feminism is all about. A religious man will never be in support of feminism,he might possibly say ..the bible said this or the bible said that… especially if he does not understand what it really means.


Feminism is not all about a woman being equal to a man; it’s about a woman being able to stand up for herself. We are born in a society where a woman is trained to bear whatever a man do to her no matter how ill it is. I remember one evening while cooking in the kitchen with my mother, we were discussing about marriage issues and then, I told her with  a childish mind that if my husband beats me I would leave the house. She laughed rather rhetorically and replied

“don’t pray your husband beats you, but even if he does, you have to stay and endure it.”

‘ok what if he kills me?’

“Then die; an igbo woman is supposed to endure and enjoy her husband’s house, how many times has my mother come here to settle disagreements between your father and I?” She asked rhetorically then continued

“that is why you should always pray to God to give you a good husband”.

A lot of damages has been installed in the life of women while growing up. They were told to depend on the resources of men, The man is the only one who needs to get the money; the ladies are to wait upon their husbands order. It is not bad at all, don’t get me wrong,what I’m trying to say is..what about some cases where the man cares little about his family? I remember few years back in the east, we had this particular neighbour that often fights; what was the reason? The man leaves home every day without dropping a penny  for food but when he returns he expects to be served delicious meal but when his expectation is thwarted he ends up beating his wife. This is one of the reasons I support that women should have something handy to do in order to support the family; every relationship needs understanding.

I was disappointed to hear a friend say ‘once you are married, you loose your right as a woman’ WHAT?

Women need to be respected. Yes I repeat it again ‘they need to be respected!’ how can a little boy be told that no matter the age of a girl, men are always older than women. I was shocked when my cousin whom I’m older than with 3 years refused to do what I told him to because his parents trained to believe that he is older than any lady thus no lady has the right to send him on an errand except if she is the wife of the man he is staying with.
The moment a boy becomes taller than his elder sister he automatically becomes the man of the house whom everybody must respect.

In some traditions, when a woman gives birth to girls without a male child, she haven’t started giving birth. The man might go far at any length to even get a second wife without the slightest thought about the emotional depression this woman might be going through. Female children are like a source of wealth especially in some culture. My elder brother once told me

 “nne don’t live a useless life remember that you are the first daughter and your bride price is much”. why must it always be like that?

Whenever a lady wants to get involved in her family matters, she get shunned  because ‘These matters are for men only” they say.

In some places, female education is a taboo because women are meant to get married, bear children,take care of the family and die. Women are the most vulnerable people in the society; at a very early stage of their lives, most of them have been  passing through one difficult situation to another most especially sexual harassment and gender inequality.

Go to the churches and count the women then count the men.

‘Why is it that women are more in churches than the men”  I asked my intelligent paternal cousin

‘it is because women have more demon in them than the men, that is why at every slightest prayer or touch they fall to the ground, they are the source of evil…” he went further to tell me the story about  the garden of Eden where it was the woman(Eve) who first ate the forbidden apple. Is that all there is to it?

Women are treated disdainfully by people who are born of a woman.

If a married man pass through some challenges people will say the wife is the cause.

If he dies untimely, the woman is the witch that killed her husband.

If she is delayed in child birth, people will say she was a prostitute at her younger age therefore she destroyed her womb with abortions.

It is often one thing or the other that women takes the blame for. A woman who cannot prepare delicious meals with #50 is not a wife material WHY? Why are women subjected to so much ridicule

I’m not disputing the fact that some ladies abuse and misinterpret the notion of feminism. Most of them thinks it’s when they talk back at their husband, refuse him of his marital responsibility or being less submissive to their husbands; let’s not forget that the bible specifically instructed that women should be submissive to their husbands.

Most ladies believe that  being  a feminist is only  when they are rich.












Then they can proudly say that they are feminists.

#Light up the fireworks.


Few days ago,a particular comic song was everywhere on the social media:

Valentine is coming,
where’s your boyfriend,
 you are sitting at home LONELY.

I remember the first day I heard it, I was like ‘LOL’

 Val’s vibes has been everywhere, girlfriends were already getting expensive gifts from their man before the D-DAY, honestly it was a WOW!

Personally, I ‘ve never considered Valentine’s day as a big deal maybe because of my extreme seclusion to the world. But this time, I felt some kind of enthusiasm towards it; maybe because of the lovely words I read from Krietivenation’s Instagram page or something else I’m yet to know.

Was it really a great day for me? Lol, no one knows..

So, how did you celebrate your Val’s day? I’m just going to write down different ways some people spent their day,you can pick the category you fell in.

Some people woke up on a bed filled with roses,had tea on the bed and some kisses.

Some people didn’t even know that today was Valentine’s day till they got to their place of work.

Most teachers  and students  would have probably been concern with classroom works; moving from one class to another TIRED and HUNGRY hoping the lecture will be cancelled but DISAPPOINTED.

Today might just be someone’s matriculation day. There would have been plenty of food and drinks..orishirishi.. and specifically  those celebrants who might have never been valentinized,  today might just be their best Val’s  day ever.

Some people slept, ate, pressed their phones  and slept again, they continued this way till night fall.

Some were stocked in traffic,trekking and cursing the government for banning motorcycle.

Some visited the less privilege, orphanage homes and showed love to them, and even showed love to the beggars on the street.

Some people where slyed or disappointed  by their lovers who promised to make today special for them.

Some listened to music all day while nursing their heart break.

Some people celebrated their birthdays today, wedding anniversary or remembrance.

Some people had lots of fun and received beautiful gifts.

Some people are just about to have their own share of Valentine’s special moment.

Some people fell ill.

Some had accidents.

Some people died today.

I sat down in that bus feeling so sophisticated but that soulful voice of Celine Dion took me to another world when she said
“let’s talk about love”.

How was your Valentine’s day?