August 14, 2013

It Rains When You Dance

So this one is for Mr Kiah. 

For you my darling, a thousand times over...

When I walk into the room, she is still writing. Sheets of paper lie forsaken all around her chair. The waste basket is brimming with even more scrunched up balls of paper. I wonder about the trees they came from. If there ever was a house deserving to be haunted by the ghosts of trees, it is this one. 

My wife is a writer. 
She prefers to be a writer the old fashioned way. 
This translates into weekend shopping lists with requests for pens, pencils and of course, more dead trees.

I can tell things are going better. The unruly curls that had previously formed a halo around her head are now tucked behind her ears. She isn't nibbling on pencils and pens like she was when I checked in a couple of hours ago. Her head is cocked to one side and her lips are moving silently. She does that sometimes; reading aloud to herself to see if the words fit.

Behind her, the sun is out and the rain clouds have moved house to some other part of the world. I can hear the sounds of children coming out of houses that can no longer contain their excitement. It is the first rain of the year. There will be little ponds on the road to explore and splash in.

She taught me to dance in the rain, to move in sync with the rhythm of the earth, to open my mouth and drink from heaven, to break the rules, to be more than the world expects of me.

It will break her heart to know it rained while she stayed in this room and put more trees to death.

"Has it stopped raining?" She says to me. There is a half smile on her face. She has caught me longing for another dance.

"You knew it was raining?" I ask her in return.

"I always know when it is raining."

She sighs and stands to stretch her tired body.

"Come, come, let's dance." She beckons to me with hands stained with blue ink.

"It isn't raining." I say matter of factly.

"Do you  dance when it rains or does it rain when you dance?" She asks winking at me.

I glance outside the window and it is darker than it was a little while ago.

I hear the screams of the children as they seek shelter inside the houses they had been set free from only a few minutes back.

I walk to my wife and hold her in my arms and we dance to the rhythm of the rain.

"Is it a good story?" I whisper.

"Who knows?" She answers.

I breathe in deeply and am overwhelmed by the scent of all that is right with the world- of trees, of paper, of ink, of rain, of someone who is as in love with me as I am with her...

We dance and it rains.

Song of the Day: Elton  John - Can You Feel the Love tonight

August 7, 2013

Liam's Lilies

Dear Blog world, you have no right to judge me for my absence  You all haven't done diddly squat yourselves so pluck the plank form your own eye and other stories...

Hello everyone! Clears the might cobwebs in this space. Happy happy August. My birthday came and went-it was such fun. I can never get enough of NYC in the summer. 

This story; i began an hour ago so forgive me for the many mistakes it will have. 

I do not support cheating or being unfaithful. There is no such thing as eating different soups. If you want to continue to eat different soups, please don't go before God and commit to someone. I am just saying. May God give us grace.

As much as I dont support being unfaithful, I also know that we have all been unfaithful to God; like an adulterous partner, seeking peace in the arms of gods and idols that profit nothing. Yet He takes us back again and again. So before you give up on that marriage, go to God and ask Him what He would have you do. The tabloids, celebrities, pastors, WSJ; they do not have the answers. Only God does.

Ok that's my 5 minute sermon. Enjoy the story darlings..

BTW, i want a destination wedding; where are all the money bags on blogger? Come and contribute to my dream... I will write you stories for the rest of your life (hopefully you are like 70/80 and you don't have much longer-am just saying):)

The day she decided to leave was the day he sent home roses.They were a bright red and fit right in with her kitchen decor. They were beautiful and smelled really nice.

But she was a lilies' girl and he knew that. He had always known that. He had not sent her flowers of any kind in a while. And now he sent roses.

She had not even looked at the note that had come with the flowers. She had just started packing her things and Liams'.

There was no where for her to go. Her family would never take her; her father's political ambition could not afford the disgrace of a separation or divorce. She had alienated all of her friends since she had Liam. Motherhood was tough on friendships, especially when your friends were single and spent their nights at the bars while you stayed up late with a teething child. There was no one to run to, no where for her to go.


The best friend she had walked out of her house a few months back because she brought news of her husband's philandering.

Lola who had always been her rock, her safety, the one who always stood up for her when she was a shy girl in boarding school and easy prey to mean seniors, the one who kept her company when her influential parents flew all around the world and left her all by herself with just the help for company, the one who was always there no matter what....


Maybe Lola could forgive her and take her and Liam in while she made up her mind on what next. LOla loved Liam as if he were hers so Kunbi knew that her son would not be a problem.  Lola would console her, empathize with her and maybe even kick Charles' ass if Kunbi asked her to. She would also probably remind her of how she had warned her not to get married to Charles in the first place because she had a bad feeling about it. Lola and her feelings. 

They had not spoken since that day when Lola told her about Charles' affair. Maybe it was because it came out from the mouth of someone so dear to her. Maybe it was because Kunbi could not stand the fact that the shame and secret that she thought was so well hidden was known to others.  Maybe it was the way Lola told it. With a finality. As if there was no changing it.

"Charles is in love with another woman. It is really serious." 

There had been tears in her friend's eyes as she said those words. It was almost like Kunbi's pain was hers.  

Many times since then, Kunbi had started to call her friend but pride would set in. Pride and something else she had no name for. To let Lola back into her life would mean letting truth in, a truth that she was not ready for. 

She picked up her phone and started to dial the familiar number. Truth was here to stay.

"You are all packed, I see."

She had not heard him drive in so his voice startled her and she dropped the phone. There were tears in his eyes and in that moment he looked so much like the 2 year old that slept on innocently in the next room. 

"I am sorry." He said, the tears choking him from saying any more.

She waited for him to say the florist had mixed up his order with someone else's. She waited for him to tell her the perfume she smelled on him many times meant nothing. She waited for him to make it alright again.

He lifted his left hand to his mouth as if trying to see if he could bring the words out that way. He was wearing the ring she had put on it 3 years ago. She wondered if he took it off when he held the woman. She wondered if it shone in the dark when they made love. She wondered if it made any difference.

"Please don't leave me, Kunbi. Please don't take away my son. Please Kunbi. Please... I swear to you the roses were to end it. It is over. I promise you Kunbi, it is over!"

She said nothing. He continued to cry. They stayed that way for what seemed like forever.

Liam should be waking soon. He would want his sipping cup. He had taken to that thing like he had never taken to her breast. She remembered the many months she had spent trying to get him to breastfeed. How could a child survive without breast milk? How could he turn his head away from the nourishment his mother offered him and seek something else? How could he be so stubborn even as a baby? How could he deprive her of the opportunity to nurture him with the only thing that was only her could give him?

Her mother-in-law had laughed when she complained.

"Let the child be. Breastfeeding is just one of the many ways you are a mother to him. Spend your energy in the other ways that life will afford you both."

It was growing dark outside. She didn't want Liam waking up in the dark. She needed to be the light in his darkness. She needed to be his mother in other ways.

"Did you throw the roses out?" She finally said to the man.

"Yes, yes. I did" He stuttered and Kunbi could see hope returning to his face. She smiled to think of the innocent boy that had stuttered his way through the crowd to ask her to dance back in college.

She needed to be his girl as much as she needed to be Liam's mother. 

And so she opened her arms and let him run into them. She let him cry and soak her blouse. She let him seek absolution between her breasts. When he took her nipple in his mouth, she closed her eyes and let her spirit nurture their love back to health. When he reached his release and called her name over and over again, she cradled him in her arms and sang him to sleep. 

Liam would sleep through the night too; father and son leaving her to contemplate why the note on the roses in the bin said "For Lola. Goodbye."

Lola always loved roses. 

Song of the day: Seal - Kiss from a Rose