This is Why I read

...Omonoba...
Our People Say:
Eng: If the singer is a fool, the listener is also a fool.- Ijaw Proverb.
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I did a post sometime ago titled This is Why I Write. But writing is not the only thing I do. I cannot get enough of good books. Every writer is a reader and every good writer is an even better reader.

When I read a book, I am privileged to create my own imagery and enter into the world of the characters. I form a relationship with them- the characters-and we communicate. It is as if I am a part of their story and I become equipped to re-tell it. When I watch a movie, I am subjected to the point of view of the director. Good movies are awesome but good books are even better! Go Books!!! 
- NakedSha.


This is why I read.

This Light is Not Beautiful

...Omonoba...

Our people say:

"Ògà-ǹ-gà lomo-ò mi ńjé, e má pe omo-ò mi ní Ògò-ǹ-gò mó!" Èwo lorúko rere níbè?
"My child's name is Ògàǹgà; don't you call my child Ògòǹgò any more!" Which of the two is a good name?

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I have been writing a particular piece and I have finished.I cannot describe how much I am attached to the characters in this piece and I constantly read through to modify and live with them. It is very rewarding to feel compelled by one's own writing. Very rewarding. Plus, simplicity is key.  Here's an excerpt. 

She, the woman who has welcomed me graciously and is now skimming through the small refrigerator, says that her name is Laura not aunty Laura. She has pale skin too but hers is very unlike mine. It matches her eyelashes and her hair and her eyes. In short, hers is beautiful. It is as if the sun chose to brighten Laura’s skin but bleach mine; and kiss the skins of the rest of the country.  Laura is aberrant. She speaks kindly like a friend would and not as if she pities me. She expresses concern that I have worn a shirt and tie and locked my fingers cautiously as if I were being interviewed.

‘It’s a chat, you have your legs crossed’ she says amidst giggles. So, I uncross them.

‘I find you very interesting. Tell me more about yourself.’

Her aura is fast spreading. She does not act as if I am a victim, she only wants to talk. She is different. But then, she is not from around here.

And another:

The Boys' Quarters and the main house are separated by a large sandy space defined by green Ixora bushes. Then, there is a big almond tree at the corner of the BQ. I pick a short broom from behind the front door and slap the head to tighten the bunch. The ground is moist and leaves have fallen from the almond tree. I pick a few ripe almond fruits from the ground and place them gently on the foot mat in front of the front door. I do not need to pluck froots today since the rain has helped me. By the time the landlord’s children come in a day or two to pluck froots, there will be a new batch ready for plucking. As I sweep, aunty Flo-uncle Chijioke’s wife- comes outside with a steel bucket. She is wearing a long transparent night dress with frills on the neck and the sleeves. I see that she is wearing pale blue panties; the kind that stop just under the butt cheeks. I also see that she is not wearing a brassiere but I do not see much because there is hardly anything up there to be seen. I greet her.

Alright, my Knorr buddies. Thank you so much and have a blessed Romans-1-16-sort'a day.

Nollywood madness by IphyIgboGurl

...Omonoba...
Our people say:
Igbo: Anaghi eje akwa onye kwulu udo
Eng: No one attends the funeral of a suicide - Igbo Proverb.
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I have an (asawana) sister. IphyIgboGurl and her acting skills...

I loooooove her to atoms.

And, please visit her blog here.

P.S: For those who didn't get her response last time, we are not blood. We are ALMOST blood.. :)

LEtter bOX

...Omonoba...
Our people say:
Edo: Te a ghe okhuo eto vbu ere uden-
Eng: You look at a woman's hair before asking her for pomade - Edo Proverb
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NEW EXCERPT COMING SOON! Watch this space.

This morning, I participated in the Blogtalk radio with Verastic, MyneWhitman and Sting. The topic of discussion was "Women changing, keeping or hyphenating their last names after marriage." Interesting discussion, if you ask me. I spoke on a very light-hearted note though, about village bad-belle women...{:)}but all the same, kudos to Verastic and everyone who participated for a job well-done.

I appreciate things that are strikingly different and simple. People, life cannot get any better than this - the kitchen is such a beautiful place; everything makes me smile.

I have a box of letters, it is an actually vintage wooden box with a twist hook and a curved roof. It's one of the things I would grab if I had a fire. Anyway, in secondary school, I kept most of my letters, notes and silly messages. I do not throw such things away. In fact, I have had to reduce the number of times I open that box because those letters are wearing out. Sadly, I have not written that many letters in recent times. But, I will write as much as I can and encourage others to write to me so that I could keep them. Letters are priceless, they are different from text messages and e-mails. Besides, I do not like to text...I want to write.

So, here's a picture of my letter box. If you could, please revive the art of writing letters for yourself. Pass a silly note to a friend or family and encourage them to keep it and do the same to you.

{Old picture of the box. Beside my old Bible}

P.S: Be careful about what you write. Once something is on paper, even after you die, it will live on. Do not write down anything that you do not need anyone else to know. NEVER. Written words are powerful so, I thought I would throw in that caution. Also, write to people whom you love. When they feel otherwise or down, they will have your letter to read.

Oh, I loooooove letters. If I moved back home, I would trade my phone for an effective postal service.

Bless,
NakedSha.

Like oil used to fry eggs!

...Omonoba...
Our people say:
Yoruba: Kànìké tìtorí oókan kùngbe.
Eng: Kànìké set fire to the forest on account of a single cowry shell. - Yoruba Proverb.
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There is not a day when I am not writing or thinking about what I would like to write. Touching the ever real issue of inter-tribal marriage(s), I have decided to share an excerpt from an on-going work of mine. Here is a rant from a Yoruba woman whose daughter has decided to bring home an Igbo man...Ha, I have stories to tell sha!

When my daughter told me that she was getting married to an Igbo man, I scolded her for making jokes with weighty issues such as inter-tribal marriage and when she persisted, I told her that I would not believe her until I saw them in my compound. As if she dared my sarcasm and the anger laced intricately into it, she did ask him, Obioma and his relatives to bring palm wine to my house asking for her hand in marriage. But where was it heard of before that the Yoruba men were insufficient or the eyes of a well-trained Yoruba girl would see an Igbo man and behold beauty within him? Or assuming she did behold beauty within him to perhaps admire the creation of God, would her eyes deceive her unto admiration and then love? Love ko, love ni? Anyway, after I spat beside my husband’s grave in disbelief and disgust, I was almost sure that his body turned in agreement with me. I tried to be polite to the Igbo suitors though I must confess that pushing my daughter, Laide through my tight pelvis during labour and mourning my husband after his sudden death were much easier for me to do.

“Did Laide say that she will marry your son?”, I asked the oldest of the men.

“Yes ma. Our son beheld a beautiful flower in your garden and informed us that he would like to pluck it.” 

“You have not answered my question. Did my daughter say to you that she would like to marry your son?” 

As I spoke, I fought the cuticles beneath my fingernails like they were the ones I had anger for. I glanced at the boy, Obioma. I saw him looking at my daughter from across the living room, the side where the Igbo suitors sat. He was smiling, almost blushing and they were exchanging facial expressions as if to mock me that I didn't understand their secret language.

“Yes, your daughter and our son have both consented to marriage and that is why we have come here with palm wine to ask for your daughter’s hand in marriage. We thought we would meet some men from the family here today.” 

I laughed within myself even though my wrinkles were finely spread out across my face in the most deceitful grin.

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Conflicts based solely on culture differences forever remain SHALLOW to me. Shallow, like oil used to fry eggs!

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Please go ahead and nominate your favourite bloggers for the Category B of the NigerianBlogAwards...Bless, my beautiful people.

For the 'N' in Ebony!

...Omonoba...
Our People Say:
Eng: "Later, later" prevented the toad from growing a tail. - Igbo Proverb.
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Today is my darling sister's birthday. Sisters are the perfect gifts from God...IphyIgboGurl. Happy Birthday, darling. I love you, sugar potato. I continually pray for you. God be with you and all that you do.

An embodiment of beauty, love, strength, spirit and music. The 'N' in Ebony lives on.

I love you, honey Ofe-Nsala.

Sometimes you'll laugh, Sometimes you'll cry

Life never tells you, the whens or whys

When you've got friends, to wish you well

There comes a point where, you will exhale...

 - Exhale by Whitney Houston.

Yes, that's the post for today. Go ahead and read her blog and wish my sister a happy birthday.

The Universal Language...

...Omonoba...
Our people say:
Eng: Even sugar itself may spoil a good dish.- Hausa Proverb.
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Last night, we spent the time making predictions. Four of my friends and my brother made predictions. I did not because it is interesting enough to watch everyone do this. After each round, we would clean our board and I am in charge of awarding the person(s) whose predictions turn out to be at least 95% true.
So, here we go:

ROUND I of the World Cup 

What's yours?

If you are not watching the World Cup, I hope you are doing something like writing exams, studying, giving birth or praying. Nothing else is excusable, my darlings.

IN THE SPIRIT OF THE BEAUTIFUL GAME, FOOTBALL. 

 'Give me freedom, give me fire, give me reason, GIVE ME FOOTBALL!'

My husband

...Omonoba...
Our people say:
Yoruba: Iná ńjó ògiri ò sá, ó wá ńgbá geere geere sómi.
Eng: Fire burns and the wall does not run from it; now it moves threateningly towards water. - Yoruba Proverb.
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I am thoroughly excited. I feel like a completely woven basket. I feel like I have now put my patterns in place and my aesthetic is wowing. I am living each day gracefully and with faith, while waiting for my sky to get torn apart!
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Today's post:
{From an embittered woman whose mind is made up}

Maybe I am the only one to admit that next time, I will not marry my husband. Infact, I will curse him the first time I meet him. I am frail and too weak to keep fighting. The only one worse than me is one who has sold her soul to the devil. That man is constantly lying and even the children have begun to doubt my owns stories. I have stopped crying before the in-laws because everyone tells me that I am the liar. 'Stop lying, Andah is not like this.' 'What has Andah done to you? Why do you hate him so much?' But I cannot blame them. He sends half of them to school and builds houses for the other half. Seven or eight times now, I have been to the hospital because he laid his hands on me. When the doctor asked, I told him I had a bad fall or an accident or a kitchen pot fell on my head. Clearly, the doctor does not believe me but he seems not to want to dabble in my affairs. And Andah never apologized for beating me. He always told me that he had to correct me or else, I would go astray. If only Andah would gently tell me that he wants to bring home another wife or confess that Comfort has three children for him, I could consider forgiving him. But he is a pathetic liar. You need to see Andah in church, he fits in like a green snake in green grass. But even the cunning snake cannot beat my husband to it. His hymns are the loudest and he knows all the words. 'If we love one another...' But I swore that before I allow the idiot replace me, I will do what needs to be done. Or what are my hands for? So, I could not take it anymore, when before his family and my father, Andah used his belt to flog me for cooking egusi soup again. "...and go back to your father, let him train you", he added. My father, who speaks very little English, did not really understand. So, after everyone left, I boiled water in my biggest pot and gave Andah a good bath, Now, I am sitting here in this cell and I can hear all the in-laws cursing me from outside. I have begged the police men to keep me here because if they let me go home, I may set something on fire. Or someone. If Andah dies and makes it to heaven, let him explain to God why he is standing there. Because he knows best.

{Things people go through; deep sigh*}................................................................


Living gracefully while waiting for my sky to get torn apart.


Bless,
NakedSha

From under the tree: Tolu Akanni's Story.

...Omonoba...
Our people say:
Yoruba: Ó pé títí ni “A-benu-bí-enu-òbo”; ká sá so pé, “Ìwọ Lámonrín, òbo ni ó.”
Eng: It is mere circumlocution to say “A person has a mouth like a monkey's”; one should rather say, “You, so-and-so, you are a monkey.” - Yoruba Proverb.
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Hello beautiful people,

It is exciting to see the results of the NigerianBlogAwards 2010, category A. Congratulations to all the winners. I am thrilled for you and you all deserve this.

I came in contact with Tolu Akanni, who I think is very phenomenal. He is a fellow blogger, a student of class '10, an entrepreneur and now, a writer. Tolu has written a book called A-Z Life Lessons which would be launched officially at the TerraKulture, Lagos, on the 9th of July, 2010. If you are in Lagos, you definitely should be there. I felt obliged to share this persona with you all. Since Tolu has received / is receiving a lot of attention on blog(s)ville regarding the author side of him, I decided to showcase the other interesting parts of him. Here goes:

Could you give us a brief biography about yourself and an insight into your latest project, A-Z Life lesson? 

I was born and raised in Lagos Nigeria. I had a very interesting childhood growing up with a very good relationship with my two brothers who are 9 and 7 years older than me. This accelerated my maturity as a growing child and I was always a step ahead. I am a product of influence and I am able to command the level of things I command today because of God and the people He has surrounded me with who have given me the opportunity to express myself. This book took me 365days, but the interesting thing is that I never started out to write a book. The book is purely a compilation of a selection I made from my 365-day old archive of written thoughts. I found it publication-worthy, my friends liked the idea, and with the right encouragement from friends I resolved to show it to the world. A-Z LIFE LESSONS is just the beginning. 

What has the blogging experience been like and what has the general reaction been towards this book?

I started blogging in July 2009.The blogging community has been very supportive. The likes of Harry, Myne Whitman and Muyiwa have been pushing the right buttons on my behalf, also comments on the book excerpts I put up online have been fantastic.  The book was dedicated to God on my 21st birthday. The demo copy was made available for viewing to guests that were present at the birthday gig and there was no one that didn't like it, in fact they all loved it. Most people that have heard about the book in my school can't wait to buy their copies. My Lagos friends are equally anticipating my July 9 Lagos launch. Mr Fela Durotoye of Visible Impact has endorsed the book and Mr Leke Alder of Alder Consultancy has also commended my efforts in writing a book that lovely; to me that's a great start.  

Electrical Engineering and Motivational Writing?

Writing started off for me as something I fell back to at moments of boredom then my passion to add value to lives set in. I wrote my first article, "A-Z OF SCHOOL: 26things that made primary & secondary school worthwhile in our days" in March 2009 during my internship. That particular article was featured in the 1st edition of Mitre Magazine, published July 2009. I love to think, I love to create, I enjoy strategy, I'm all about improving values and that is what my branding, events and business consultancy outfit, El Fiz Concept is all about; that is where my passion lies for now. But it might interest you to know my passion for creativity is very relevant to my degree, so in the long run these 5years walk in earning this degree would not be in vain considering the fact that I have esoteric long term plans to establish myself in that industry. Writing is not a full-time career for me; it is something I resolve to after my regular career day- it's just an overflow of my thoughts. 

Favorite book(s) / author(s)?

Think big by Dr Ben Carson

Think like a billionaire by Donald Trump

Life as I see it by Leke Alder

Parable of dollars by Rev Sam Adeyemi

Food or Fruits?

Fooooooooooood, then fruits.

Zobo or Kunu or Palwine?

Kunu.

A book that you currently are reading?

What's your excuse by John P. Foppe.

One thing that you would like to tell upcoming writers that no one told you

You might start out writing for yourself, but soon you will wake up to realise that your stuff should not be limited to the pages of your personal journal, you will soon wake up with a burning desire to have the world read your piece but don't rush. Slowly but surely you will get there, just seek to add value.

If you were a type of food, what would you be and why.

Chicken and chips, because I'm the kind of guy you will always want to hang out with.

If you had a million dollars, what would you spend it on?

The 10% that makes the remainder relevant would go to God, 50% on my business, and for the remaining 40% I would spend big on my parents and I would treat myself to a great deal of vain pleasures - fancy cars, clothes, houses, vacations.

How would you explain childbirth to a four year old?

It is the point in time when mummy will go to the hospital with her big belly and she will come back home with a small belly and a baby in her hands.

I thought his story had to be told. Thank you for reading!

My Black is beautiful. Ocha is...?

...Omonoba...
Our people say:
Igbo: Ewu mmadu abuo nwere na-ehi ura nezi.
Eng: A goat owned by two people sleeps outside. - Igbo proverb.

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I am writing about an albino. But I am not fully equipped to write about one. My skin is dark like the midnight sky and my eyes are big and bold. My lashes are black, like rich expensive chocolate, and they curl as withered raffia. I have no albino friend or family and I see ocha's ever so rarely. So, if I have to imagine an ocha, I think opposite. Sun-bleached skin, red pores, squinted eyes and invisible lashes; lashes that match the skin and sink into it's transparency. So, if I am dudu, then ocha must be everything that I am not. My black is beautiful. Therefore ocha is...?

It ought to be simple for me to tell stories, simpler than anything else. I like to talk about mangoes and raffia and palmwine and the iroko tree. And it's beautiful to talk about these because they are what I know. But I have talked about them too many times and the children under the baobab tree have began to tire. They ask me if this is all I know? 'No', I tell them. 'This is what we are'. But I have lied and have become a traitor. I have done the same thing as call Sango's name in an Obatala shrine. I have helped those foreigners with big cameras and single stories, emphasize those single stories.
So, I asked to meet with an ocha, an albino. I asked a friend and then many more friends if they knew albinos. They said no. Not as in, 'I'am sorry, unfortunately I do not have an albino friend'. 'No', as in 'do you really expect me to have an albino friend?' I shall never ask those friends for different stories again. It was like asking for Nsala soup in a Yoruba man's house or cold pepper-soup or a lazy Igbo man. So, I want to tell an ocha's story and I want to be the pen, the ocha, the writer. Or else, I will paint the story with pity and one-sidedness. I do not want to tell the story from this blind point of mine. I want to tell it as though they were a different kind of beauty and not the opposite, the way palm-wine is not better than kunu and zobo is not better than fura.

What I haven't answered yet

...Omonoba...

Our people say:

Yoruba: Kò sí èrè nínú-u “Gba owó kà.”
Eng: There is no profit in “Take this money and count it 'for me.'"- Yoruba Proverb.

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Hello my beautiful people! Today's post is an audio version. I originally posted the video here but the silly thing wouldn't play. So, here's the link. I have put it on YouTube!

This Video has been removed. I apologize.


I'm sorry about this, just kindly click on the link and listen to it! :)

If you still haven't voted, please go ahead and vote NakedSha for Best Daily Read and Most Unique Voice here. And vote for other categories too.

Alright, so I hope everyone is having a blissful week!.

NakedSha, still telling all the stories...