Diary Entries: For Love

There are days that I wake up so full of love; and then there are days I look everywhere for proof... This diary entry hits a little bit too close to home. 

When was the last time you told that amazing person in your life how much you really love them...Pick up that phone already! 

Maybe I am in love with Segun after all.

These days, I am more confused than any human being is allowed to be. 

I told him just this morning that I would rather he slept at his apartment for the next few days. He had looked at me for a few moments before picking a few of his things, kissing my forehead and walking out without saying a single word.

Last night, he had come home so excited, a wrapped box in tow. In it were two return tickets to Lagos. I had thrown a fit big enough to end the world. He said nothing through it all and slept on the couch. This morning, I found him in the kitchen humming while he calmly made me breakfast.

It is Saturday and normally, we would have spent it sitting together on the window ledge of my apartment, feeding the birds. I went shopping to drown my misery instead. I am back home now. The sun has found its way home too and with the darkness that it left behind, is a overwhelming loneliness that threatens to suffocate me.

Everywhere I look, I am reminded of the man who loves me like no man in my life has ever loved me. His jar of shaving cream stands on my bathroom sink. The blue 'I love NYC' t-shirt he bought me on our trip to Times Square eyes me angrily from the bedside chair. On the dining table are two plates of eggs and pancakes, cold, unwanted, pathetic; just like me.

They say you never know how much you love something till you lose it. 

Maybe I love this man after all.

The tickets are on the coffee table. The departure date is only a week away. I will dig out my favorite suitcase in a few minutes and start to pack. Right now though, I need to let a certain young man how much I love him and how willing I am to follow him to the ends of the earth.

Song of the day: Goapele - For Love

Diary Entries: Songs of Childhood

I apologize folks...I just haven't figured out what to do with Solape...what kind of ending she needs and so on. I have been too lazy to try. But if you guys encourage me in the comment box ....   :)

Blogger is so boring. Where are all my fave people gone? I miss Bros T most of all :(
Anyways, have a great week people. God bless you in ways you haven't even imagined.


I can't sleep.

I am reminded of how my mother loves to quote the Bible and tell me how there is no rest for the wicked. Segun is snoring softly beside me; he is definitely not wicked. 

I miss my mother. She has been gone exactly two weeks today.

She came home from grocery shopping the other day to find Marcus yelling curses at me. I have never been so thankful to hear my mother's voice. From the other side of the door where i hid like a coward, I thanked heaven for bringing her home before I could open the door for Marcus.

'You stupid uselses boy with no home training.Ti won ba bi e da, you break the door and see. Ma je wo Ilorin fun e. My daughter does not have time for useless boys like you. In case you don't know, where we come from in Nigeria, she is a princess. She has royal blood in her and she is not meant for commoners like you...'

I could see it in my mind's eye and imagining my mother, all of 5ft 2' , standing up to Marcus who had once played college basketball, was all I needed. All my fear disappeared and I ran to open the door. 

Lets just say, Marcus will stay away from every and anything Nigerian for a while.

Segun is, well, he is Segun.

He keeps dropping hints about moving back to Lagos and settling down. Elsa tells me I would be a fool not to go with him. Elsa needs to start minding her own business. It is no wonder my hair always looks like a serial killer went through it every time she is done cutting. If she paid more attention to my hair than to what goes on in my bed, this would not be the case. I have no clue why I keep going back to her shop. 

I am not in love with Segun. I know this now. And it is alright. 

I want to spend the rest of my life with him...in New York that is. All these talk about Lagos is driving a wedge between us. This is how I know I am not in love with him. If I were, I would follow him half way around the world, abi?

Maami's memorial is in a few weeks. I want to go so bad. I want to breathe in the dusty humid air of Lagos nights. I want to sit under our mango tree and imagine Maami singing in God's choir. I want to hear the songs of my childhood... 'Ki le o le she, Olorun mi.' 

I dreamed of my father. It is why I am wide awake while the rest of the world slumbers on. 

'What should I wear Baba?'
'Anything you want, Solape. Just hurry up so we can get out f here before Maami gets back and tries to stop us from going.'

And so I had worn my favorite red gap shorts and the t-shirt my mother had gotten for me from her last trip to Dubai. It read ' Daddy's Best Girl'.
'I am ready, Baba.' I announced to my father as I closed the door of my bedroom.
'Where are your bags?' My father asked smiling.
'Why do we need bags, Baba?'
'I thought I told you we were going to spend a couple of days at the resort with your stepmother and brothers. In fact I am sure you won't want to leave once we are there. Now go and bring your things and bring your passport too. We will need some identification for you.'

The drive was long and tiring but my father bought me as many Fan Yoghurts as I demanded. It wasn't until I saw the signs for Ikeja that I knew something was wrong. 

'You are taking me to the airport, aren't you Baba?' I had asked the man in a voice smaller than my skinny body.

My father ignored me but I had all the answer I needed in the knuckles that gripped the steering wheel tightly.

I started to cry.
'Shut up. Just stop your useless crying. You are not my child and if your mother thinks that by forcing someone else's bastard child down my throat she will ever get anything from me or my family, then she has another think coming. Because of you, my wife is threatening to leave me. Because of you, she wants to take away my sons, my heirs, the only rights I have to kingship. Because of you and your cursed mother!'

His eyes were red and flecks of his saliva were flying everywhere. Veins lined his face and I could barely make out the eyes that everyone else were exactly like mine.

In my dream, my father dissolved and a monster took his place. I opened my mouth to scream but nothing came out; and so I watched quietly, mouth wide open in a silent scream as he made to swallow me.

What really happened was not too far from the truth.

I would wake up in a hospital four days later, to find my mother at my bedside and Maami on her knees, crying softly, hands raised to heaven singing...

'Ki le o le she, Olorun mi, Ki le o le she...'

Songs of my lost childhood...

Song of the day: Owl City - Fireflies

Diary Entries: Ghosts

Happy February people.

Sorry for the hiatus but I have had other stories that have refused to stay unwritten. I hope you enjoy this installment of Solape's life. It is getting rather boring though without yall's input.


One of these days I am going to end up in jail. For murder!

The victim will be either my stupidly stupid boss or my equally brainless landlord.

I need a new job.
I need a new place.
I need a new life. 

Full stop!

My favorite U2 song is 'Walk On'. I need to take Bono's advice and somehow get rid of all of the crap that I can't seem to leave behind.

Segun...I still don't know how I got lucky. We finally did the dirty. And it was so good that we did it 4 more times that night. Now we are like rabbits that just discovered Viagra.
Today, I called him from the office to vent about my boss. Next thing I know he was at the parking lot of my office and we were making it rain in his tinted glass car.

Yikes...I am wet even talking about it.

Mom is still around so our escapades are limited to his bedroom, his dining room, his study, his bathroom, his car... I am sure you get the idea.

Maami's memorial is in two months time. My father emailed me again. It has been too long since I was in Nigeria. I am afraid that if I go, I will never leave.
Too many memories of Maami lurk in the shadows, all of them, ready to take a hold of me and never let go.

The darkest shadow of all, the man I called father.

I fear that to go home will mean to forgive him for the ruins that was my early teenage years.

And then there is Segun.

He tells me how much he longs to go home. When we have sex, he puts his hand on my womb and names our unconceived children. He dreams aloud about their childhood. Dreams that  are set in Lagos with patches of holidays all around the world. He puts his head on my belly and bids his unborn children show up quickly so he can show them the Lagos he grew up in. 

Mom says if I go to Nigeria, I would get a better job and and command a better salary. She also says the money I spend on rent here would see me live in Victoria Island with the elite. She tells me I can start my life again in Lagos.

She loved her flowers by the way and cried when I handed them over. She cries too much.

So many odds are against me wherever I am.

Lagos, New York, Mars... The ghosts of my past need no visas. They find me too easily. 
Mom went for groceries. The doorbell is ringing. I am curled up in the corner of my kitchen, willing myself not to open up for Marcus.

Song of the day: A Yoruba Praise Song that has these words 'Oba to fi imole sha sho bora'

Diary Entries: Mom

I apologize...then again, this tardiness is al on you guys. If you gave me more ideas of what to do with this tale, I would be early. Lol...

Ok be nice people and provide me with some inspiration for Solape. Do it for Solape. Y'all know how much you love her.... :)


Mum showed up at my door 4 days ago. The woman thinks this is Africa where you can just show up unannounced.  Lucky for her, it was one of those days when I was too tired to look up directions to the nearest hotel.

She is here for two weeks. It feels like forever to me. She says she is here on business and I snigger. She is here on business alright; MY business!

She and Segun are as tight as thieves already. She never fails to remind me that she is directly responsible for my good fortune in finding this "jewel of man". 

Segun says to always take the half full glass approach so here goes - The woman cooks so I get to eat great food without giving away a substantial part of my monthly income to Brooklyn's chefs. She cleans so I get to come home to a comfortingly neat apartment as against all the clutter that constitutes my life. Most of all, her endless chatter wearies me and leaves me with no strength to dream sad dreams.

You can't help but love Segun and his relentless optimism. Any man who still wants to hang out with my mother after 4 days of her non stop chatter deserves to be raptured with the saints. A mansion in heaven would also be fitting. 

I haven't told him about having sex with Marcus. I tell myself that what matters is that I never do it again. It is one of the few reasons I am glad Mom is around. She helps keep ghouls (Marcus) at bay.

We all had dinner together last night and between my mother and Segun, I felt human for the first time in a long time. After Segun dropped us off, Mom and I had some wine and talked. She said Segun is in love with me. I asked how she knew.

'I just know. No man looks at a woman that way without being in love.' My mother answered

'Oh come on Mom! You are just seeing stuff because you want to.' I told her as I refilled my wine glass.

'And you aren't seeing anything because you don't want to.'

She was right so I just drank some more wine.

'I saw your father in Abuja the other day. He asked after you. He says the family is organizing a 10 year memorial for Maami and they would love to have you there. Something about you being her favorite grandchild.'

I said nothing. There was no need to and soon enough the silence drove my mother to bed. 

I want to tell her that I know all about Maami's memorial. I want to tell her about the emails that I never reply. I want to tell her about the gifts that come in the mail every Christmas and are signed "Love Dad". I want to tell her how the folks at Goodwill look at me crazy whenever I hand over the brand new wristwatches, gadgets, perfumes every other Christmas. I want to ask her how forgiveness can come to her so easily.

I have an appointment with Elsa tomorrow so she can repair the butchery she performed on my hair last week. I will ask her what kind of flowers say thank you best. 

I will ask her what kind of flowers say 'I love you, Mom' best.

Song of the day: Ed Sheeran- Fall

Diary Entries: Maami

And Solape is back...this chapter in the series is pure Kiah. Y'all know how I do...Guaranteed to wring tears from your stony hearts.

Ok, if you don't want to read more sad stuff next episode, kindly use the bloody comment box! 

Thank you! :)

Last night I dreamed of Maami.

It is always the same dream.

We were sitting in our favorite place, under the mango tree. Maami was singing one of those yoruba songs that always left me feeling sad and happy at the same time. I put my hands in her curly white hair, closed my eyes and let the smell of the shea butter she used as hair cream, fill my nostrils. Of all her grandchildren, I was the only one allowed such privileges.

'Ki le o le she, olorun mi, ki le o le she?'

'When will you teach me a new song Maami?' I asked her in the dream.
'As soon as you learn all the ones I have been teaching you. You with your americana accent.' She replied and we both laughed.

We were still laughing when my father strode into the compound. I knelt before him in the way that Maami had told me good children greeted older people.

Maami called him 'Bamidele' in greeting as he walked towards us and so he had to be my father even though when I looked up at him, it was Marcus's face that stared back at me.

'Go to your room.' Maami said to me, touching my right foot softly as she gauged her son's mood.
I went. 

'What is she still doing here, Maami? I thought you assured me she would be gone by this week? Why is that bastard still here, eh Maami?'

'Bamidele! Leave the child alone. It is bad enough you treat her like a leper and reject her so harshly. She might not be your child but she is my grandchild. You might not see any good in her but everytime I look into her eyes, I see the man you could have been.' 

'I am old Bamidele and have no quarrel with no man. Leave her alone Bamidele, leave...'

My bedclothes were soaked in sweat when I finally woke up. I called in sick to work and I haven't returned any of Segun's calls.

It is only a dream I keep telling myself, it is only a dream, a dream that is also a memory.

My heart bleeds for the little girl, standing in the hallway of her grandmother's house, listening to her father's rejection.

But lightning doesn't strike twice and she is safe from him and his hurt now.

Marcus came over last night and we had sex.

He left immediately after and I stood in the hallway of my apartment building for the longest time, listening to the rejection that echoed in his hasty goodbye.

Maybe lightning does strike twice afterall.

Song of the day: Ed Sheeran- Give me love

Diary Entries: Segun

Hello darlings... 

Our favorite little lady has been busy and she has you all to thank for your many suggestions. Keep the ideas coming and help Solape tell her story, one diary entry at a time. Please find below the second installment in her story. 

If you have any complaints, blame yourselves  This story is only as good as you make it. :)

For those of you i haven't wished Happy New Year, HAPPY NEW YEAR and God bless you!


My mother has finally lost all her marbles. Before this, I used to suspect that she was a couple short. Now, I am convinced that they have all rolled away, to some deep dark hole where only Smigol from Lords of the Ring will ever find them.

She won't stop calling. She won't stop sending me bbms. She won't stop with the text messaging either. She basically stalked me all day at work today, calling the office phone like a hundred times. 

I don't blame her though; me and my big mouth. If I hadn't admitted to her that maybe Segun was a tad different from all the other clowns she has sent my way, none of these would be happening.

My phone is ringing. 

Give me a break Mom!!!

She is already talking wedding colours and grandchildren. For heaven's sakes Ma, I only met the man 3 weeks ago. Jesus, Mary and Joseph!!! This woman eh!

There, my battery light is blinking. If I were smarter, I would switch off the phone completely but Segun said he would call at 6. 

Segun...

Where do I start from? There is a ridiculous smile on my face right now and I want to slap myself. I am too old for this teenage Twilight bull crap. 

Yet... 

Thinking about him feels so good. I think about him and everything else immediately feels good; even the crappy haircut Elsa gave me today.

Segun...

3 weeks, 2 days and a couple of hours ago, I put on my Goodwill shirt, prepared my diatribe againist the rich and headed on a date with a stranger.

I walked into the restaurant where we had agreed to meet and he was already waiting. That was the first sign of trouble. Who gets to a date more than 30 minutes early? 

He went on to hand me the most beautiful flowers I have ever seen. It is the middle of winter and the man finds me the rarest flowers. Esla would love him. 

Marcus used to buy me flowers when we first started out.

Sigh... Marcus...

Segun... He couldn't seem to take his eyes off my face for even one second so my Goodwill shirt was a failure. I caught him looking at my behind as I walked to the ladies though.

Which reminds me; we haven't had sex!

Moving on...

We talked politics, Nigeria, books, music, business, careers. Somehow I forgot my rehearsed diatribe about the world's 1 percent. Somehow I forgot to be obnoxious. Somehow I enjoyed every moment. 

He walked me home and lingered too long by the door. I could tell he wanted to kiss me but was nervous. I liked that. I am too accustomed to men who take what they want from me without bothering to find out what I want.

I have seen him every day since. I told him about the 11 dollars from Starbucks on our first date and he drove me there the very next morning. The lady that gave me too much change had tears in her eyes and said 'God bless you' like a thousand times. Maami would have approved.

We haven't had sex.

It bothers me but only a little. Oh what the heck! It bothers me A LOT! I keep worrying about it. Maybe he doesn't find me sexually attractive. It would only serve me right after that Goodwill shirt episode. Sigh...

Marcus hasn't called since Christmas.

Segun calls his grandmother 'Maami' too. I envy the stories he has of her. Unlike mine, he can refresh his memories with only a phone call, while i have lost my Maami forever. He shares them with me now and again but I change the topic. I don't need any more reminders of my 'Maami'. I have all that I need in my dreams

I can feel Spring in my bones. Esla mentioned seeing green in her garden this morning. 

It is about time some warmth showed up in my life.

Song of the day: M.I - Teaser

Happy New Year, Diary Entries and other stories...

*Clears Cobwebs*

Well hello there! Its been a minute! I went and upped to Lagos and couldn't access my blog. I promise that I missed you guys the same way you missed me. I can't wait to read up on everyone's blogposts.

Have I said 'Happy New Year' yet?

Happy New Year! 

This year has already begun to unravel for me and it has been a great start. I am so pumped about the rest of the year. God will do amazing things in all our lives-we just need to trust.

I wrote a lot while at home and was even going to do some kind of collaboration with some other writer until, ahem, they started giving me B.S. 

If I told you once, I told you a thousand times, Nigeria, Lagos inspires me to no end. I am never at a loss of stories to tell when I am in that place. Even here, the best stories I write are those that are my dreams of home. 

I miss home already. 

Below is the first chapter from Diary Entries, a series I am writing about a girl. About a girl...sigh

Please comment and let me know what you think it is about, maybe you can even tell me what it should be about and i can move stuff around. This is an experiment i am not willing to let go of so help me out people...use the comment box and help me tell this story .

Happy New Year again!!!

The lady at Starbucks gave me too much change. I didn't realize until I had gotten on the bus. 

Still, I should have gone back. It is what Maami would have expected. She always said the world would be a better place if everyone was a little more honest. This was right after she would tell me and my cousins how she expected us to make the world better. Such pressure that woman doled out on little kids. Lol...

But Maami was a long time ago. 

I went to work and told myself that it did not matter. Starbucks made too much money anyways to keel over because of a lousy 11 dollars. Besides, it was there own fault if they couldn't train their staff in simple maths.

Spring is almost here and I am glad. I am so tired the grayness of winter. I am a summer child though so it is that season that I eagerly await. Maybe this year the La Isla bikini I splurged on two winters ago will be finally okay to wear. Which reminds me, I better get back on that diet.

Summer always makes me think of Maami and those eternal summers of my childhood. I miss her so much but this is the story of my life; I get by without the people I really need and surround myself with people that I don't.

Marcus hasn't called since Christmas. 

Speaking of men, I have a date with some clown whose parents my mother is trying to win favors with. 


"Mum, you said the same thing about the two last guys you tried hooking me up with.''And I was right. You are just too set in your ways to give good Nigerian boys a chance. You keep dating all those good for nothing  boys with rasta hair and oversized clothes."

''Marcus isn't good for nothing, Mom. He is just having a rough patch. And it is dreadlocks not rasta. You know what, whatever Mom, you are just prejudiced against black american boys."

''Wo, let me be prejudiced. I still think you would really like this one. He is smart and very respectful oh. His parents are also very influential in government and this might lead to a couple of contracts.''

"Is it too late for you to have more daughters? I swear this carrot and donkey thing you do with me must be bad for business."


My mother had laughed that her throaty laughter that everyone says I inherited. It made me think of better times when she was happier, when we were all happier. It made me think of how warm Maami's house always was; how it had little to do with the humidity of Lagos and everything to do with the love she never seemed to run out of. 


Anyway, I let my mother have her way and give some boy called Segun my number. He called yesterday to fix a date for tonight. He must be lonely as hell to want to get this on so soon. If only he knows what he is getting himself into.


I will be wearing one of the shirts I got from Goodwill for occasions like this. It has the right amount of holes to irritate the hell outta any silver spooned kid. I will also be sure to go into one of my practiced speeches about the 1% and how they are to blame for the problems of the world. I will bring that snotty rich kid to his knees and run him outta town. Kid won't know what hit him.


One would think after all these time, my mother would know better: you can lead a horse to the river, but you can't make her drink nada.


I am off to get dressed. It is a going to be a long night for some unsuspecting young man.


I miss Maami... and warmth. Tomorrow, I will return the 11 dollars.


Song of the day: Tuface- Rainbow