Abide with me

It is the last day in February.

I wanted so much to happen this month and it didn't.

And then I saw my friend today. He is my classmate; young and sweet. Classmate and friend and yet we barely ever see these days. So imagine the shock on my face when he told me he broken up with the girl he was going to marry.

Only a few weeks back we talked about wedding traditions and how they differed from place to place. Only last month, his eyes couldn't stop shining, his lips couldn't stop turning up in a  smile; when I teased him about her.

He says he is alright but I could see the pain and disappointment in his eyes. I wanted to hold him for much longer than I did. I wanted to tell him everything is going to be okay.

But who am I to make promises that I cannot keep? 

So much I wanted to happen this month. So much that was hoped for, prayed for...I woke up this morning thinking '24 hours more; surely this is enough?'

The day is almost over and all I am reminded of is the hymn 'Abide with me'. 
I am gonna hum it and be thankful for all that He has done. I am gonna close my sleep deprived eyes and tell myself that everything is going to be okay. Maybe when it is morning, I will believe again.

Song of the day: Abide With Me

Many Ways to Love You

Poetry isn't my strong suit. Even though I am in love with a poet and love his poetry and that of so many others. 

This is me trying to be amazing like the man in my life. If I have failed, I am glad that there are so many other ways to love him...


There are so many ways to love you.

By kissing your eyelids while you snore softly
By holding your hand when your world's turned upside down
By tracing the stubbornness that lines your jaw 
By cooking meals that you never eat and end up in the trash
By listening to the beat of your heart when you have forgotten the words to our love song
By saying goodbye even though my heart is breaking and it is the last thing I want to do 
By knowing that it is what you need, right now, more than you need me

There are so many ways to love you
It turns out that the best way is the hardest.

Song of the day: The Script- Six Degrees of Separation

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

The girl who ran down the stairs

I never ever take one step at a time; I take two, I race up and down steps. Life is too short to waste time taking those stairs ever so slowly and carefully...one day though I will have to learn...I look forward to it :)

I miss the girl who used to run down the stairs.

She is in there somewhere. Sometimes I catch a glimpse of her when the woman smiles at me. It is in the woman's eyes when they crinkle with laughter. I can feel it in her hands when she holds me during our ritual Sunday evening slow dance. 

I wonder what it will take to bring her back. I wonder if my heart will again beat faster at the sound of her running; pounding in anticipation of the joy that will enfold it once she bounds down that last step and into my arms.

The woman walks slowly and there is nothing in her gait to remind me of the girl who used to run down the stairs. When she climbs the stairs now, it is with a precise carefulness that scares me. Any minute now, I am afraid she will fall. Worse still, I fear that I will not be there to catch her.

It is sometime in the night when she wakes me from my dreams, dreams that are filled with the girl who used to run down the stairs. In my dreams, she is breathless, beautiful, perfect and unencumbered by anything. 

The woman I awaken to couldn't be more different.

'What is it?' I ask even though I already know.
'It is time.' She says as she glances at me from where she stands, holding her soaked nightgown.

The fire is back in her eyes and I know it is my turn to run down those stairs.

It takes 17 hours of labor to get my girl back. When it is over, I am reminded of the cycle of life. I now have, not one, but two girls running down my stairs to look forward to.

Song of the day: Miguel Adorn

A Cure for Trembling

I woke up last night to find my hands shaking.

I tried to still them by holding them in each other but the tremors continued no matter what I did.

I found Mark's hoodie in the living room closet where I kept the hand warmers. It gave me an idea so I put it on, found my running shoes and pushed open the front door.

I stood on the stairs leading out of my town house for a few moments. It was 2 am and nothing moved. It was summer yet the chill in the air made me want to run back inside the house for warmth. But I have never turned away from anything in my life, and so I put on my cap and started to run.

I had no idea where I was going so I let my heart and feet work it out. Soon sweat ran down my back and my knees began to hurt from all the pounding on tarred roads. I stopped to catch my breath and when I raised my head I was standing in front of his house.

I waited until my heart stopped racing and my breathing returned to normal. I had given him his keys back but I hoped he was still the same man I showed the door out of my life a few months ago.

The key in the rose bush showed that he still was and I let myself breathe. I cleaned the dirt off my hands and the memories of all the times we had gotten down and dirty to plant his beloved seeds flashed before my eyes.

I let myself in. The house was the same. It felt like I had stepped back in time. The only thing that had changed was the pot of Aloe Vera that sat on his coffee table. It used to sit on my coffee table until four months ago when I had thrown it at the man I loved. It was the same pot, patched up with some kind of material whose source I didn't want to fathom. It made me smile. And hope. That maybe he could patch up my broken heart too.

I climbed the stairs but I took my shoes off first so he wouldn't hear. He always slept with a light on and I silently blessed his dear heart for it. I would probably have fallen over Linda if he didn't.

'Hi, you old lady.' I whispered to the dog. She gave me a look that I read to be 'don't mess this up' and so I giggled, patted her 11 year old head, took off the hoodie, got into bed and waited for dawn.

My hands stopped trembling somewhere between when I got into bed and when I woke up to find him staring at me, tears in his eyes.

Song of the day: Ed Sheeran - Wake up

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'

The Walk

Today, we are taking a break from Solape. I wrote this on the bus, on my way to school one cold day. I have the best siblings in the world. They have known me longer than most people (aside my parents). I am so glad I get to walk through life, hand in hand with them.

‘Ikenna!’

‘Mama!’

‘Wait o, wait so Ugonne can walk with you to school, o nwam.’

‘Mama, I am not walking with her oh. I want to walk with my friends. She can walk by herself or with other children in nursery. After all, you are always saying she is a big girl now and I should treat her like one.’

‘Shut that your mouth before my hand finds it. Oho, you are now too big to walk her to school but if it is to help her finish her food , it will not be beyond you. If you know that it was another woman that carried you in her womb for 9 months, biko don’t wait for your sister you hear, and then come back and meet me in this house. Ewu!’

I grumbled and mumbled but my mother paid me no mind as she continued getting my little sister ready for school. Ugonne stuck out her tongue at me and it was all I could do not to give her a knock. It was her first day at school and away from the vigilant eye of my mother. She couldn’t stay still with all the excitement that was running through her 4 year old body.

‘I am not walking her home sha. I have Interhouse Sports practice after school o.’

‘You just do what I sent you. I will send Osugo’s niece to come and get her when school closes. Now make sure you hold onto her hand and look left and right before crossing any road. Are you hearing me, you this child?’

I stamped my foot in frustration. Not only did I have to walk the child to school, I also had to bear the ignominy of holding onto her hand. I was going to be the laughing stock of the whole middle school. It was part of the unspoken rules; it was so not cool to be seen with tots from the nursery school, sibling or no sibling.

But I also knew which battles to pick and I chose the one of facing my classmates rather than that of my mother.

I held onto Ugonne’s hand as she skipped happily beside me, not a care in the world. It was all I could do not to smack her and tell her to shut up as she asked question after question about what school was like. The jay birds were singing their morning music all around us. The liles along the road were abloom and their perfume filled our noses. I paid the world no mind. All  I could focus on was not getting caught red-handed, walking a baby to school. I could already hear the names and titles the episode would produce.

‘Mummy’s boy’

‘Mummy’s little helper’

‘Nanny Ike’

The fates however decided I had suffered enough for one morning and we didn't come across any of my class mates on our way.

I let go of Ugonne’s hand the moment we were safely across the last road.

‘Ike! Ike! Don’t leave me.’ I heard my sister call out but I was walking away as fast as my legs could carry me. We were too near the school gates for our good luck to continue.

I will never know what made me look back. Over the years, I have contemplated the phrase ‘blood is thicker than water’. It is the only way I can explain why I looked back. That and some sudden worry that took ahold of my soul. Maybe she would try and go back home and get run down by  a car. Maybe she would collapse with fright. Something happened just before I entered those school gates and I am thankful. 

The sight that greeted me as I looked behind me broke my heart forever. She had not moved from the spot where I let go of her tiny hand. Her eyes were filled with unshed tears as she looked around her at the strange surroundings, trying to understand how to navigate the lonely world she had been thrust into. Mama had brought me to school on my own first day and waited till I was safely cocooned in my classroom. I remembered seeing her wipe away tiny tears with the edge of her wrapper as my teacher's hand replaced where hers had been. Yet here I was, in my selfishness, refusing to do same for her child.

My broken heart broke even further and filled with pride as she took the first step forward, a determined look on her face.

‘Hey, Aje butter, you better hurry into school before the principal decides you are a late comer and you have to cut grass.’ I heard my friend, Osaze say.

I turned around to find him behind me. He immediately caught sight of Ugonne and began to chuckle.

‘Ahhh, they made you walk that small rat to school abi?’ He teased.

Here was my chance to walk away from it all with my reputation uncorrupted. I could have lied and said my mother walked us both to school and had just left. There were so many ways I could have refuted Osaze's observation but I did not. 

‘She is not a small rat. She is my sister.’ I said as I walked back the way I had come, my hand outstretched.

  

Mama never said anything to me about it so I knew Ugonne had never told on me. But my mother must have sensed that something had changed because she never asked me to walk Ugonne to school again. Time passed and my sister forgave me. Time passed and my primary school reputation was restored. Time passed and we grew - me into the protective older brother, she into the little lady who bucked against the reins of my protectiveness.

She called me two months ago.

'Yo lil sis, this one that you have called me today. Rain will fall oh.'

She giggled and I forgot London's gloomy weather.

'Stop teasing, Ike. I want to ask you a favor.'
'Anything for you, baby girl.'
'Oh when will you stop teasing me so much. I am a grown woman now you know.'
'And soon to be married and someone else's treasure. Don't remind me. I hope that fiancé of yours is treating you nicely, if not eh, I have other suitable candidates.'
'Hmmm Ike, knowing your choice of friends, I will pass. Now let me ask my favor so you can get back to work.'

'Alright then, am listening.'

'The doctor say Papa shouldn't strain himself after the stroke and I and Mama thought maybe it would be easier for him if you walked me down the aisle instead ...'

*******************************************************************************************************************

The strains of wedding music fill the church and she is tugging at my suit sleeve so we can get a move on. Under the white veil, I know is the impish smile she has never outgrown. The child I walked reluctantly to school is somewhere in this full grown woman who is in such a hurry to take this walk.

I close my hand over hers and she stops fidgeting. The bridal train is waiting for us to get a move on but I want a moment with my sister. I squeeze her hand tighter and she squeezes right back. I lift her veil and she breaks my heart for the second time.

'Stop peeping, Ike.’ She scolds.

So brave, this one, so much more than that cowardly nine year old boy. I make good use of my second chance and hold my head up high as I take my sister’s hand and walk her down the aisle.

Song of the day: Maroon 5- One More Night

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