...Omonoba...
Our people say:
"You see a bird with no hands but only a beak and it can build the nest that you cannot build." - Kenyan Elder.
..........................................................................................................................................
"I'll bear in mind the words of strangers may lead me astray from everything I knew was true." - Freshlyground - Fire is Low [ Paraphrased ]
One's spirit, soul and body are all weak. Three blind mice trying to help each other. One day, One will cruise downhill...away. I hope One finds the tip of the earth and blends in with the waterfalls. One belongs nowhere. One can cope anywhere. One day, One will cruise away...downhill.
But before One leaves, no one can swear that One destroyed all, or any, that they built. If they point to the sky, they cannot point to the ground. If they point to the ground, they cannot point to the sky. None can lick their fingers, no one can swear. If another curses One, it will be a causeless cause. That will not stand.
Will the water never dry? The grass is green where One waters it. By the time One waters and tends and re-waters the grass, One cannot see lush, green fields. One sees the work they have done to keep the grass green. But it is better than to want to lounge on another's green grass. Uninvited.
One should tell One's children: 'Children, before you listen to anyone, find out why they are qualified to teach you about life.' Then, One should go ahead to teach them about life. If they ask, 'what qualifies One to teach them about life', say: 'One carried you for nine months. This stomach, you kicked it. These breasts, you sucked them. These hands, they will slap you the next time you ask that stupid question.' One should proceed to teach them about life.
It is easier to play hide and seek behind One's walls. Another should spend their entire life trying to break through. If the walls come down step by step, it is easier to re-stack the steps up as needed. If there are no walls, it takes [impossible] to build them when needed.
Having walls and loving selflessly are NOT mutually exclusive.
Having walls and loving foolishly are mutually exclusive.
One must remember to be critical. But, One cannot always question why the night is for sleep and why the eggs are for morning.
Make sure you are not taking another's best greens.
One has a soul rhythm blasting, in the evenings, and softly playing, in the mornings. But there are clothes and clothes and then the glaring public and political correctness to try to burst through. Though One still dances at the red stop lights and cat-bounces through the pedestrian walk.
If you find me, I failed at the things that did not plead with my heart. And the others, I told them as stories or songs. When you find the boxes, brown cheddar boxes, you will not be able to swear that they were not mine. I don't know if I lived, but I went to Victory and found God-kind and I went to the house and the kinship sang songs. If I could take one thing to heaven, I would take a song but the ones in heaven are richer and a thick chord. So, I will leave the songs and the stories for my children.
When they ask me: 'where are you from?' I say, 'I am Yoruba and Bini and I come from Port Harcourt'. They say it is not short enough and I should choose one. So, I say quickly, Yoruba-Bini-Storyteller from Port Harcourt'. Still too long. So, I say, Port Harcourt's Yoruba Bini. Too much. Then, I say, PH Yoruba Bini. Then, they sigh, hiss and tell me that I cannot be all. So, I say: "Ok. but I swear, do not spread my ashes outside of Port Harcourt City."
One day, I will cruise away and it will be a downhill carnival.
NakedSha.
I was naked before they could accuse me of not being X-enough.
Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts
Saturday, April 14, 2012
Friday, January 13, 2012
Allah is Not Obliged...
...Omonoba...
Our people say:
Yoruba: Oore tí a ṣe fádìẹ ò gbé; bó pẹ́ títí a ṣomi tooro síni lẹ́nu.
Eng: The favor one does a chicken is not for nought; in due course it will make stew to delight one's mouth. - Yoruba Proverb.
........................................................................................
This is how this books starts. When I bought it at Farafina, Lagos, I started reading in once I got home. As soon as I read the first line, I thought, Oh no! Let's put this aside and have it as dessert. Great decision because after very tough and more in-depth books, the lightness of this story (even despite the war and wild-west context) was soothing. Birahima is hilarious. Such a good book. If Ahmadou Kourouma were alive, I would love to listen to stories at his feet.
Birahima is a child-soldier. So, his storytelling is very much like that of a child but his environment shows up in the words he uses A LOT. Faforo, walahe, gnamokode, nigger, fuck, shit, bitch, etc.
Biko, because of literature, read this book!
NakedSha.
Our people say:
Yoruba: Oore tí a ṣe fádìẹ ò gbé; bó pẹ́ títí a ṣomi tooro síni lẹ́nu.
Eng: The favor one does a chicken is not for nought; in due course it will make stew to delight one's mouth. - Yoruba Proverb.
........................................................................................
This is how this books starts. When I bought it at Farafina, Lagos, I started reading in once I got home. As soon as I read the first line, I thought, Oh no! Let's put this aside and have it as dessert. Great decision because after very tough and more in-depth books, the lightness of this story (even despite the war and wild-west context) was soothing. Birahima is hilarious. Such a good book. If Ahmadou Kourouma were alive, I would love to listen to stories at his feet.
Page 1.
Birahima uses his dictionaries (which were gifted to him) to dig out big words and then explains to the reader what the words mean as if he grew up understanding these words. What's funny is half the time, he abandons the actual definition and just explains it the way he knows best.
Page 126
Haha, Birahima sha. I'll stay with this character for a long time just like I did with Uwem Akpan's characters.
Page 163
The book is saturated with innocent comments like the ones below. Well, innocence or sarcasm depending on how you see the world.
Page 176
Page 203
Biko, because of literature, read this book!
NakedSha.
Sunday, November 20, 2011
Albino Character: You Still Defend The Man
...Omonoba...
Our people say:
The lazy person replies, 'yes', to all propositions - Yoruba proverb.
...........................................................................................................................
I will not attend the funeral of a savage.
Do not speak of him as such.
The dead man?
Do not speak of my dead husband as such.
You still defend the man. The depth of 'Seyi's wisdom was as oil used to fry dodo.
Call your father Papa not 'Seyi.
While 'Seyi was sick, I heard his heart, blurry but distinct enough, asking for one more day to pour blessings on the sheep in his pasture. This Sunday, the pews will be filled with thirsty deer, panting for water. Their well has run dry and the digger taught no one else how to feed sheep. Sheep - waiting for the stick to point North. Then, going North. Sheep - waiting for the road to lead to water. Then, realizing thirst. Sheep wander away when the shepherd is lost in sight. I hope these ones spread away like birds in the winter. His death was no punishment - relief for his bitter heart - but he fought the fate that came to pluck him out of his sickly misery. For once, this man lost a fight but he carried pride with him until death. His eyes were open enough to see me but blind enough not to know who I was. He thought I was you. He spoke with strength unusual for a dying man. Why do you forgive this man? Or, do you tell me less than there is to know? Until his final breath, he cursed you and...
My husband will never curse me.
...and your 'bastard' daughter, me.
My husband will never curse you.
The congregation will not believe my tale, would they? They believe almighty 'Seyi always blessed and never cursed. Imagine the gasp, the horror, when I tell them that he asked you to kill your baby. He asked you to dissolve me all because my skin is pale like taffeta and my nose is red. He never acknowledged that I was his child.
You are my child, Motun. You are our child.
Yes I know. I have the gait of a limping chicken, just like him. My smile mirrors yours. I know I am your child. What I don't know is why he never looked me in the eyes and why he called me 'the fair share of curse every sinner deserved'.
Who told you these things, Motun?
Ma, the wall between my room and yours is thin.
He didn't mean to say them. He never understood why you were lighter than the rest of us.
Albinism is not curse, ma. It is what it is.
I know.
Do you really? I never heard you say so. He thought he was talking to you on his dying bed when he said that you were stubborn to not confess your affair with a strange man. He was so sure, ma, he called upon God and said that I was a mockery of your secrecy. So the world could share your shame. I'll tell them all one day that their shepherd was a killer of sheep.
They won't believe you, there's no need for that. He led a whole congregation, allow his memory be of peace.
Do you curse me too, silently?
I will never curse you.
Perhaps in a language I do not understand like the tongues they speak in the congregation?
I will never curse you.
But am I a bastard?
No, Papa is your father. He was a father to you and the entire congregation.
His final words were simple but I do not know what they mean?
I'm sure he loved us. He just did not understand.
For someone who led a whole flock, he knew very little. He spoke of three others. He said that he would pray for you when he reached Home. I was surprised that he would even care to pray - the man suffered, ma. He did painfully. He said that if I had been 'quenched', it would have fulfilled the last piece of sacrifice. I do not know what sacrifice he spoke of. He said I was tough unlike the others and refusing to remove me was unreasonable because the stubbornness came the fourth time around. He said that he would pray that the souls of the other three children rested with him.
He was dying. It is normal for his words to be meaningless.
There were three others before me?
*Silence*
.................................................................................................................................
NakedOne!
Our people say:
The lazy person replies, 'yes', to all propositions - Yoruba proverb.
...........................................................................................................................
I will not attend the funeral of a savage.
Do not speak of him as such.
The dead man?
Do not speak of my dead husband as such.
You still defend the man. The depth of 'Seyi's wisdom was as oil used to fry dodo.
Call your father Papa not 'Seyi.
While 'Seyi was sick, I heard his heart, blurry but distinct enough, asking for one more day to pour blessings on the sheep in his pasture. This Sunday, the pews will be filled with thirsty deer, panting for water. Their well has run dry and the digger taught no one else how to feed sheep. Sheep - waiting for the stick to point North. Then, going North. Sheep - waiting for the road to lead to water. Then, realizing thirst. Sheep wander away when the shepherd is lost in sight. I hope these ones spread away like birds in the winter. His death was no punishment - relief for his bitter heart - but he fought the fate that came to pluck him out of his sickly misery. For once, this man lost a fight but he carried pride with him until death. His eyes were open enough to see me but blind enough not to know who I was. He thought I was you. He spoke with strength unusual for a dying man. Why do you forgive this man? Or, do you tell me less than there is to know? Until his final breath, he cursed you and...
My husband will never curse me.
...and your 'bastard' daughter, me.
My husband will never curse you.
The congregation will not believe my tale, would they? They believe almighty 'Seyi always blessed and never cursed. Imagine the gasp, the horror, when I tell them that he asked you to kill your baby. He asked you to dissolve me all because my skin is pale like taffeta and my nose is red. He never acknowledged that I was his child.
You are my child, Motun. You are our child.
Yes I know. I have the gait of a limping chicken, just like him. My smile mirrors yours. I know I am your child. What I don't know is why he never looked me in the eyes and why he called me 'the fair share of curse every sinner deserved'.
Who told you these things, Motun?
Ma, the wall between my room and yours is thin.
He didn't mean to say them. He never understood why you were lighter than the rest of us.
Albinism is not curse, ma. It is what it is.
I know.
Do you really? I never heard you say so. He thought he was talking to you on his dying bed when he said that you were stubborn to not confess your affair with a strange man. He was so sure, ma, he called upon God and said that I was a mockery of your secrecy. So the world could share your shame. I'll tell them all one day that their shepherd was a killer of sheep.
They won't believe you, there's no need for that. He led a whole congregation, allow his memory be of peace.
Do you curse me too, silently?
I will never curse you.
Perhaps in a language I do not understand like the tongues they speak in the congregation?
I will never curse you.
But am I a bastard?
No, Papa is your father. He was a father to you and the entire congregation.
His final words were simple but I do not know what they mean?
I'm sure he loved us. He just did not understand.
For someone who led a whole flock, he knew very little. He spoke of three others. He said that he would pray for you when he reached Home. I was surprised that he would even care to pray - the man suffered, ma. He did painfully. He said that if I had been 'quenched', it would have fulfilled the last piece of sacrifice. I do not know what sacrifice he spoke of. He said I was tough unlike the others and refusing to remove me was unreasonable because the stubbornness came the fourth time around. He said that he would pray that the souls of the other three children rested with him.
He was dying. It is normal for his words to be meaningless.
There were three others before me?
*Silence*
.................................................................................................................................
NakedOne!
Saturday, October 22, 2011
First Love
...Omonoba...
Our people say:
Yoruba: A kì í pè é lẹ́rù ká pè é lọ́ṣọ̀ọ́.
English: One does not call it a burden and also call it an adornment. - Yoruba proverb.
_____________________________________________________________________________
To the new man, Sultry:
I'm older now, I know. My skin is rotting and my hair is thinning. But your stunning boast has also worn. Don't ask for any more of my tedious love. I have your ring and your graceless name and I can take nothing more from you. I should have made you swear before Sango or Amadioha or even my father's grave that you would have and hold. You, my husband, have not done much for me. Your words are still and bland like stale bread and they do not refresh me. Your nakedness does not awe me. Have you ever noticed how my hair curls or the flaws on my chin? Do you even know the name of my God?
Allow me travel to the far South where they speak another language. Let me dwell briefly with my first lover, perhaps he will teach me again how to love you. So that when I cook, the food will be tasty and when I pray, it will be for you. I will not dive into the well, all I want is for splashes of refreshment. I know my wish is selfish.
It is only in doing me no right that you have done me wrong.
Your love is sultry, unlike my first.
Yours,
NakedSha
Our people say:
Yoruba: A kì í pè é lẹ́rù ká pè é lọ́ṣọ̀ọ́.
English: One does not call it a burden and also call it an adornment. - Yoruba proverb.
_____________________________________________________________________________
[It's not a poem; something between poetry and prose] cc AduraOjo
I'm older now, I know. My skin is rotting and my hair is thinning. But your stunning boast has also worn. Don't ask for any more of my tedious love. I have your ring and your graceless name and I can take nothing more from you. I should have made you swear before Sango or Amadioha or even my father's grave that you would have and hold. You, my husband, have not done much for me. Your words are still and bland like stale bread and they do not refresh me. Your nakedness does not awe me. Have you ever noticed how my hair curls or the flaws on my chin? Do you even know the name of my God?
Allow me travel to the far South where they speak another language. Let me dwell briefly with my first lover, perhaps he will teach me again how to love you. So that when I cook, the food will be tasty and when I pray, it will be for you. I will not dive into the well, all I want is for splashes of refreshment. I know my wish is selfish.
Home is closer to the market man, Aboki,
His oranges are sweet and juicy and never old.
I have learned to recite your stiff sentences,
Like Grace or the Pledge .
The first gave me not very much,
But his heart and prayers and endless love.
He took from me as little too,
My heart and prayers and endless love.
Your love is sultry, unlike my first.
Yours,
NakedSha
Friday, August 12, 2011
My Face on the Cover Page of Knowing Words.
...Omonoba...
Our people say:
Yoruba: A kì í fi ẹ̀tẹ̀ sílẹ̀ pa làpálàpá.
English: One does not ignore leprosy to treat a rash - Yoruba proverb.
.................................................................................................................................................
This semester, this picture is featured on the cover page of one of the (CU Boulder) Program for Writing and Rhetoric freshman level textbooks - Knowing Words.
This is so thrilling.
The entire cover looks so pretty.
It's beautiful. I was credited on the first page of the book and it's interesting to see my full name in print, even though the only business I have with the book is the front cover.
#IntoMyLetterBoxACopyOfThisBookGoes.
On another note, I have quite some to write about Nigeria and my trip which ended two days ago. I need a couple days to finish up my other engagements for friends' blogs and BBP will have my attention.
God bless,
NakedSha...
Our people say:
Yoruba: A kì í fi ẹ̀tẹ̀ sílẹ̀ pa làpálàpá.
English: One does not ignore leprosy to treat a rash - Yoruba proverb.
.................................................................................................................................................
This semester, this picture is featured on the cover page of one of the (CU Boulder) Program for Writing and Rhetoric freshman level textbooks - Knowing Words.
This is so thrilling.
The entire cover looks so pretty.
It's beautiful. I was credited on the first page of the book and it's interesting to see my full name in print, even though the only business I have with the book is the front cover.
#IntoMyLetterBoxACopyOfThisBookGoes.
So thankful :)
On another note, I have quite some to write about Nigeria and my trip which ended two days ago. I need a couple days to finish up my other engagements for friends' blogs and BBP will have my attention.
God bless,
NakedSha...
Thursday, May 5, 2011
Inside my head {3}
...Omonoba...
our people say:
Yoruba: Ibi tí òjò-ó ti ńpa igún bọ̀-ọ́ jìnnà; ta ní rán igún níṣẹ́?
English: The vulture has endured the drenching rain from a great distance, but who sent the vulture on an errand? - Yoruba proverb.
...................................................................................................................................................
* Pet peeve -> 'O' is a letter and '0' is a number. Phone numbers start as Zero-eight-zero-five... NOT O-eight-O-five... aaarrgghhhh
* Everyone wants to be deep and profound these days. I'd much prefer to hear simple words - forget the deep quotes. They are stale.
* Let my heart be close to my God more than my lips are close to my God.
* My shades-of-grey spectrum is widening. The black-and-white spectrum is thinning out.
* When God gave me my family he was saying...'err, here are your unconditional lovers. If you find others along the way, great! If not, this should be just fine. '
* To my earthly father: I'd weave you a special aso out of my tears, choruses, poetry and thank-yous if I could. Then, you could wear it on Sunday and the world would help me sing your praises. Mine would never be enough.
* Chocolate and strawberries taste great.
* When I die, check my letter box for my Testament. In summary, DO NOT bury me - cremate my skin and bones. Don't keep my ashes, you don't need it. Give my organs to whoever needs them most and share the little I owned among my family - given and chosen.
* Was McCandless stupid and arrogant? Think before you answer this. Frankly, I'm still thinking.
* E ba mi ki ra fun baba ati mama at'egbon at'awon aburo mi.
Oda aro.
NakedSha.
our people say:
Yoruba: Ibi tí òjò-ó ti ńpa igún bọ̀-ọ́ jìnnà; ta ní rán igún níṣẹ́?
English: The vulture has endured the drenching rain from a great distance, but who sent the vulture on an errand? - Yoruba proverb.
...................................................................................................................................................
* Pet peeve -> 'O' is a letter and '0' is a number. Phone numbers start as Zero-eight-zero-five... NOT O-eight-O-five... aaarrgghhhh
* Everyone wants to be deep and profound these days. I'd much prefer to hear simple words - forget the deep quotes. They are stale.
* Let my heart be close to my God more than my lips are close to my God.
* My shades-of-grey spectrum is widening. The black-and-white spectrum is thinning out.
* When God gave me my family he was saying...'err, here are your unconditional lovers. If you find others along the way, great! If not, this should be just fine. '
* To my earthly father: I'd weave you a special aso out of my tears, choruses, poetry and thank-yous if I could. Then, you could wear it on Sunday and the world would help me sing your praises. Mine would never be enough.
* Chocolate and strawberries taste great.
* When I die, check my letter box for my Testament. In summary, DO NOT bury me - cremate my skin and bones. Don't keep my ashes, you don't need it. Give my organs to whoever needs them most and share the little I owned among my family - given and chosen.
* Was McCandless stupid and arrogant? Think before you answer this. Frankly, I'm still thinking.
* E ba mi ki ra fun baba ati mama at'egbon at'awon aburo mi.
Oda aro.
NakedSha.
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
...that I am mainly artistic.
...Omonoba...
Myne Whitman shared this link on her blog and I quickly did the test. Here's what the Typealyzer thinks of the personality of the writer of this blog. This is definitely only one aspect, since a personality test can only capture one part so much.
Based on my writing, do you share the same view?
...............................................................................................
Myne Whitman shared this link on her blog and I quickly did the test. Here's what the Typealyzer thinks of the personality of the writer of this blog. This is definitely only one aspect, since a personality test can only capture one part so much.
Based on my writing, do you share the same view?
...............................................................................................
The analysis indicates that the author of http://burntbottompot.blogspot.com/ is of the type:
ISFP - The Artists
The gentle and compassionate type. They are especially attuned their inner values and what other people need. They are not friends of many words and tend to take the worries of the world on their shoulders. They tend to follow the path of least resistance and have to look out not to be taken advantage of.
They often prefer working quietly, behind the scene as a part of a team. They tend to value their friends and family above what they do for a living.
They often prefer working quietly, behind the scene as a part of a team. They tend to value their friends and family above what they do for a living.
Analysis
This graph displays dominant parts during the writing
...................................................................................................................................................
God bless you:
NakedSha.
Friday, March 4, 2011
Inside my head {2}
...Omonoba...
Our people say:
Yoruba: B’ópé títí, akólòlò yó pe "baba"
Eng: A stammerer would eventually say "father" - Yoruba proverb.
...........................................................................................................................................
* I have Jesus.
* Did the gods turn Enugu soil red out of anger or is Enugu soil lateritic?
* His eyes are on the sparrow, I know he watches me.
* I read somewhere that most Africans are overweight. I read elsewhere that most Africans are starving. They - of the They Institute - cannot even make up their minds.
* Them: "Your English is very good, Oh my God. Wow, you speak good English for a non-native"
Me: "You too".
* Two people who always have something to laugh about will make it through many things.
* Awon arugbo so pe, olodo lon korin. 'Won so pe olodo lon se film. Few times, the old man sitting beneath the iroko tree sees nothing but it's bark.
* We may be shocked by the people we see or don't see in heaven. May we be there to be shocked, dear Lord.
* I want suya and bole/fish/pepper (Rivers State style) and zobo and Cabin BIS-keet and Rivers native soup and eko tutu and my mother's edikaikong soup and my father's groundnut soup. All I have is my stew.
* Hanging from my mother's wrapper, used to be the solution to all the problems in the world.
* Do not go into heaven uninvited. Live this great life, then attend your grand reception.
* I think 'mineral' sounds much better than 'pop' or 'soda'.
* I still find it hard to give or take with my left hand.
* Nigerian men have the worst and most entertaining pick up lines. 'Oh baby gyal, your boobs are showing. Let me help you hide them'. Olodo.
NakedSha.
{Just as I am}.
Our people say:
Yoruba: B’ópé títí, akólòlò yó pe "baba"
Eng: A stammerer would eventually say "father" - Yoruba proverb.
...........................................................................................................................................
* I have Jesus.
* Did the gods turn Enugu soil red out of anger or is Enugu soil lateritic?
* His eyes are on the sparrow, I know he watches me.
* I read somewhere that most Africans are overweight. I read elsewhere that most Africans are starving. They - of the They Institute - cannot even make up their minds.
* Them: "Your English is very good, Oh my God. Wow, you speak good English for a non-native"
Me: "You too".
* Two people who always have something to laugh about will make it through many things.
* Awon arugbo so pe, olodo lon korin. 'Won so pe olodo lon se film. Few times, the old man sitting beneath the iroko tree sees nothing but it's bark.
* We may be shocked by the people we see or don't see in heaven. May we be there to be shocked, dear Lord.
* I want suya and bole/fish/pepper (Rivers State style) and zobo and Cabin BIS-keet and Rivers native soup and eko tutu and my mother's edikaikong soup and my father's groundnut soup. All I have is my stew.
* Hanging from my mother's wrapper, used to be the solution to all the problems in the world.
* Do not go into heaven uninvited. Live this great life, then attend your grand reception.
* I think 'mineral' sounds much better than 'pop' or 'soda'.
* I still find it hard to give or take with my left hand.
* Nigerian men have the worst and most entertaining pick up lines. 'Oh baby gyal, your boobs are showing. Let me help you hide them'. Olodo.
NakedSha.
{Just as I am}.
Friday, January 28, 2011
The African's Religion May be His Curse...
...Omonoba...
Our people say:
Eng: The man who jumps from the ground onto an ant-hill is still on the ground. - Ijaw proverb.
........................................................................................................................................
I thought I would do surveys periodically - say, every Tuesday, or so - for us to discuss issues that pertain directly to us. Honestly, I am glad to bring this 'forum' on here because we need to talk then act. Especially act. Thank you for participating.
I asked the question, 'What Role Does Religion Play in African Countries?'. By religion, I was referring to those outside of the African Traditional Religions and I think every one of us caught up on that.
57.9% of respondents said Many religious Africans are hypocrites.
57.9% of respondents said Africans need to act more than they pray.
15.8% of respondents said If the leaders were more religious, countries will fare better.
10.5% of respondents said A prayerful country is a successful country.
5.3% of respondents said Religion has nothing to do with development in Africa.
[Note, respondents were allowed to choose more than one option to best describe their opinions]
Have the Church and Sunni/Shia failed us?
Nigeria -let's take her as a case study - is a very prayerful country as a whole. Our people know how to bring down rain and raise the dead. Yet, we have been unable to solve our very basic problems of corruption and division. Perhaps, the fact that we have refused to give up the desire to be right over another plays a big role in our chaotic state of nation. So, what have Nigeria's two biggest religions done for it? When our former president, Umar Musa Yar'Adua was critically ill [we all knew he was in critical condition, but that is story for another day], he sneaked pastors and imams into Aso Rock to pray for him on two occasions. Of course, no African Traditionalist was invited - such religions have been relegated to the background. So, despite the imam(s)' and pastor(s)' prayers (and those of millions of Nigerians), the man died. I must note though that the religious leaders were brought in at the last minute when ALL ELSE (silly lies, strange ambulance visits, hidden medical trips, etc) had failed. So, granted, the prayers could not bring Yar'Adua back to office but it seems like they have solved many things else...including cancer. I have even heard that the prayers of the 'righteous' solved Nigeria's problem of Abacha. Did it?
Despite all of this, the African's religion may be his curse. A blessing and a curse.
I have heard Christians and Muslims alike say, 'when I get into power, I will also chop oh'. So, these days, I do not expect that just because a man or a woman claims to be a born-again, Bible-reading, Church-going, Rosary-counting, Head-covering, Mary Amaka Dress-wearing, Pork-forbidding, Qu'ran-believing religious, they will successfully withstand the wind of corruption. This wind, of this I am at least sure, is strong.
This is not to ignore the men and women who have stood true to the religions of their fathers and fore fathers and have had the decency to admit human-ness. I, for one, do not think many of us understand the religions we profess. If we did, we may have been able to tame our current state of nation.
But, the religions of our colonists have brainwashed us enough that we do not even know for sure what they teach. Perhaps, if a man took time to open the Bible for himself or a woman took time to read the Qu'ran for herself and we all took time to actually pray to a God who is ever-listening, then many of our religious leaders will not be able to swindle us.
Our leaders (both political and religious) know our weakness and boy, have they used it against us!
And to the African Traditional Religious, I learn from you that the world is ever alive. If I cannot be trusted with a piece of land or a herd of cattle - to tend to it and be caretaker of it -, then woe betide me if a 'mansion planted on streets of gold' be given to me.
Blessings,
NakedSha...
Our people say:
Eng: The man who jumps from the ground onto an ant-hill is still on the ground. - Ijaw proverb.
........................................................................................................................................
I thought I would do surveys periodically - say, every Tuesday, or so - for us to discuss issues that pertain directly to us. Honestly, I am glad to bring this 'forum' on here because we need to talk then act. Especially act. Thank you for participating.
I asked the question, 'What Role Does Religion Play in African Countries?'. By religion, I was referring to those outside of the African Traditional Religions and I think every one of us caught up on that.
57.9% of respondents said Many religious Africans are hypocrites.
57.9% of respondents said Africans need to act more than they pray.
15.8% of respondents said If the leaders were more religious, countries will fare better.
10.5% of respondents said A prayerful country is a successful country.
5.3% of respondents said Religion has nothing to do with development in Africa.
[Note, respondents were allowed to choose more than one option to best describe their opinions]
Have the Church and Sunni/Shia failed us?
Nigeria -let's take her as a case study - is a very prayerful country as a whole. Our people know how to bring down rain and raise the dead. Yet, we have been unable to solve our very basic problems of corruption and division. Perhaps, the fact that we have refused to give up the desire to be right over another plays a big role in our chaotic state of nation. So, what have Nigeria's two biggest religions done for it? When our former president, Umar Musa Yar'Adua was critically ill [we all knew he was in critical condition, but that is story for another day], he sneaked pastors and imams into Aso Rock to pray for him on two occasions. Of course, no African Traditionalist was invited - such religions have been relegated to the background. So, despite the imam(s)' and pastor(s)' prayers (and those of millions of Nigerians), the man died. I must note though that the religious leaders were brought in at the last minute when ALL ELSE (silly lies, strange ambulance visits, hidden medical trips, etc) had failed. So, granted, the prayers could not bring Yar'Adua back to office but it seems like they have solved many things else...including cancer. I have even heard that the prayers of the 'righteous' solved Nigeria's problem of Abacha. Did it?
Despite all of this, the African's religion may be his curse. A blessing and a curse.
I have heard Christians and Muslims alike say, 'when I get into power, I will also chop oh'. So, these days, I do not expect that just because a man or a woman claims to be a born-again, Bible-reading, Church-going, Rosary-counting, Head-covering, Mary Amaka Dress-wearing, Pork-forbidding, Qu'ran-believing religious, they will successfully withstand the wind of corruption. This wind, of this I am at least sure, is strong.
This is not to ignore the men and women who have stood true to the religions of their fathers and fore fathers and have had the decency to admit human-ness. I, for one, do not think many of us understand the religions we profess. If we did, we may have been able to tame our current state of nation.
But, the religions of our colonists have brainwashed us enough that we do not even know for sure what they teach. Perhaps, if a man took time to open the Bible for himself or a woman took time to read the Qu'ran for herself and we all took time to actually pray to a God who is ever-listening, then many of our religious leaders will not be able to swindle us.
Our leaders (both political and religious) know our weakness and boy, have they used it against us!
And to the African Traditional Religious, I learn from you that the world is ever alive. If I cannot be trusted with a piece of land or a herd of cattle - to tend to it and be caretaker of it -, then woe betide me if a 'mansion planted on streets of gold' be given to me.
Blessings,
NakedSha...
Monday, January 3, 2011
Inside my head {1}
...Omonoba...
Our people say:
"Arugbo Ojo, Iwo laseda, lameda, laweda o. Iwo loni ogo, loni ola...Arugbo Ojo."
......................................................................................................................................
* The stories that I want to tell but cannot arrange, torment me. Is there another language but speech and written words? Should I dance out my stories as they are in my head? This dance will be scattered.
* I have not learned how to ache properly. "Brittle" and I share a trait.
* Many things will die with me like my quest to read the charms of the juju man.
* You can get into my head because I think simple. But men and women like to think too deep. So, they read my thoughts and pass them as thoughts of sheep.
* I would like the red mud mixture that the indigenous women of the Himba ethnic group of Opuwo, Namibia use on their skin.
* My greatest inspiration remains the plain, white wall. I have found countless stories staring at it.
* I am like Kirikou.
* Arugbo Ojo, Iwo laseda, lameda, laweda o. Iwo loni ogo, loni ola...Arugbo Ojo.
* If I pass before I bear a child, wear white. If I pass after I bear a child, wear Polka Dot.
NakedSha.
Our people say:
"Arugbo Ojo, Iwo laseda, lameda, laweda o. Iwo loni ogo, loni ola...Arugbo Ojo."
......................................................................................................................................
* The stories that I want to tell but cannot arrange, torment me. Is there another language but speech and written words? Should I dance out my stories as they are in my head? This dance will be scattered.
* I have not learned how to ache properly. "Brittle" and I share a trait.
* Many things will die with me like my quest to read the charms of the juju man.
* You can get into my head because I think simple. But men and women like to think too deep. So, they read my thoughts and pass them as thoughts of sheep.
* I would like the red mud mixture that the indigenous women of the Himba ethnic group of Opuwo, Namibia use on their skin.
* My greatest inspiration remains the plain, white wall. I have found countless stories staring at it.
* I am like Kirikou.
* Arugbo Ojo, Iwo laseda, lameda, laweda o. Iwo loni ogo, loni ola...Arugbo Ojo.
* If I pass before I bear a child, wear white. If I pass after I bear a child, wear Polka Dot.
NOW READING:
{* How I want to be more and more like Jesus. That is faith, not religion.}
NakedSha.
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
My fascination with the Juju man / Books of 2010
...Omonoba...
Our people say:
Esan (Ishan): Ẹwa’ẹn Aah rẹ gbi udia nọ timan bhi ikpẹkẹn.
Eng: Killing a tsetse fly that perches on one’s scrotum demands wisdom. - Esan Proverb
...............................................................................................................................
[I am fascinated by the juju man. His confidence (in his god) is on another level. He turns everything into a toy. He takes food for the gods and them eats them. The man, and his priests, cannot whisper. They must shout. Perhaps the god of the juju man is half deaf. A long time ago, being from Ogbomos(h)o and Benin City, could I have become a juju priestess?
But I have never seen a juju woman.
I am writing a story about a juju man; I have had to find out a lot about him. But each juju man differs from the next one. If I dare enough, I will write about a juju woman.]
On another note:
[What books do we have lined up to read in 2011? I've presented my list [of Nigerian books] below. There are just five books listed and definitely, I will read more than that but I usually pick as I go. I will also be reading non-Nigerian literature, of course. Please share yours so that we can all be aware of books that are out / good. I'm so excited for the new year, 2010 was a fantastic literary year.]
1. Feddie Girl - Nona David
2. You Must Set Forth at Dawn - Prof. Wole Soyinka
3. The Icarus Girl -Helen Oyeyemi
4. The Blacksmith's Daughter - Ngozi Achebe
5. Abyssinian Boy - Onyeka Nwelue
To see the books I read in 2010, check here.
Have a Blessed Rest-of-the-year, 2010,
NakedSha.
Our people say:
Esan (Ishan): Ẹwa’ẹn Aah rẹ gbi udia nọ timan bhi ikpẹkẹn.
Eng: Killing a tsetse fly that perches on one’s scrotum demands wisdom. - Esan Proverb
...............................................................................................................................
[I am fascinated by the juju man. His confidence (in his god) is on another level. He turns everything into a toy. He takes food for the gods and them eats them. The man, and his priests, cannot whisper. They must shout. Perhaps the god of the juju man is half deaf. A long time ago, being from Ogbomos(h)o and Benin City, could I have become a juju priestess?
But I have never seen a juju woman.
I am writing a story about a juju man; I have had to find out a lot about him. But each juju man differs from the next one. If I dare enough, I will write about a juju woman.]
On another note:
[What books do we have lined up to read in 2011? I've presented my list [of Nigerian books] below. There are just five books listed and definitely, I will read more than that but I usually pick as I go. I will also be reading non-Nigerian literature, of course. Please share yours so that we can all be aware of books that are out / good. I'm so excited for the new year, 2010 was a fantastic literary year.]
1. Feddie Girl - Nona David
2. You Must Set Forth at Dawn - Prof. Wole Soyinka
3. The Icarus Girl -Helen Oyeyemi
4. The Blacksmith's Daughter - Ngozi Achebe
5. Abyssinian Boy - Onyeka Nwelue
To see the books I read in 2010, check here.
Have a Blessed Rest-of-the-year, 2010,
NakedSha.
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
The Tenth of December - The fifth one
...Omonoba...
Our People Say:
Esan: Ufẹmhẹn si obhokhan kha na, Aah ki yọ owualẹn kkani ọhle ni ọle.
Eng: When the arrow from a child’s bow travels far, an adult is suspected to be responsible. - Ishan Proverb.
........................................................................................................................
5 years later, I am strong.
My angels - all 60 of you - I love you.
I think of you always. Three days ago, I was telling a friend about what happened and I broke down in tears...what would you have been doing now? What would we have been talking about?
Chinonye Egbosimba, we spoke with your mum recently. She laughed with us. My sister never forgets to mention that you were her childhood best friend.
Sandra Gbemudu,
Stephanie Nwoko,
The Illabors,
The Awaji's.
All of you.
This past Sunday was your fifth memorial service, in LJC. My father went for memorial mass and to visit my little brother. My brother and I sang the 2007 memorial song together; we always sing that song.
'Our Story' is the book which was launched in your honor, this past Sunday. I have not read the book, when my little brother comes back from Kairo's retreat, he will give me the book. My father bought a copy too.
But I love you and I miss you. I do not know if I am bitter about the circumstances surrounding your death but when December comes around, I know that if I make it through the 10th, I will be stronger.
Kechi Okwuchi, resilience does little justice in defining you.
After the tenth of December, if I make it through, I will be a year stronger.
And I will make it through this fifth time.
NakedSha.
Our People Say:
Esan: Ufẹmhẹn si obhokhan kha na, Aah ki yọ owualẹn kkani ọhle ni ọle.
Eng: When the arrow from a child’s bow travels far, an adult is suspected to be responsible. - Ishan Proverb.
........................................................................................................................
5 years later, I am strong.
My angels - all 60 of you - I love you.
I think of you always. Three days ago, I was telling a friend about what happened and I broke down in tears...what would you have been doing now? What would we have been talking about?
Chinonye Egbosimba, we spoke with your mum recently. She laughed with us. My sister never forgets to mention that you were her childhood best friend.
Sandra Gbemudu,
Stephanie Nwoko,
The Illabors,
The Awaji's.
All of you.
This past Sunday was your fifth memorial service, in LJC. My father went for memorial mass and to visit my little brother. My brother and I sang the 2007 memorial song together; we always sing that song.
'Our Story' is the book which was launched in your honor, this past Sunday. I have not read the book, when my little brother comes back from Kairo's retreat, he will give me the book. My father bought a copy too.
But I love you and I miss you. I do not know if I am bitter about the circumstances surrounding your death but when December comes around, I know that if I make it through the 10th, I will be stronger.
Kechi Okwuchi, resilience does little justice in defining you.
After the tenth of December, if I make it through, I will be a year stronger.
And I will make it through this fifth time.
NakedSha.
Friday, December 3, 2010
A gazillion shades of blurry, gray pencil streaks.
...Omonoba...
Our people say:
Esan: Aah ii tọni egbe bi eji egbe rẹ tọnọ.
English: Do not scratch your skin just the way it itches you. - Esan (Ishan) proverb.
..........................................................................................................................................
I initially strayed from the original topic. 'my fascination with the juju man'... COMING SOON! Let this serve as a prelude.Daalu.
It is safe to say that there are few things I stand for, since a couple of principles usually cover many other things and are enough to live a beautiful life. Few things, also, in this life are black and white - I can count them before I run out of fingers. The rest of life is painted in a gazillion shades of gray. So, the few principles for which I stand are broad scopes like my belief in most things not being strictly black or white, my belief that I must live my life today with hope for tomorrow and reasons for yesterday (they must not be good, there just have to be answers), my belief in (my) God, etc. When I am faced with paintings of gray, blurry, inconsistent pencil streaks, I will be able to act accordingly, based on the principles of broader scope. So, this part of my living, for the most part, is clear and straight-to-the-point in my books.
Within my head, however, is an array of cleverly interwoven threads of oxymoron.
Perhaps as an entity, I embody oxymoron. After all, taking the country from which I stem, there lie so many contradictions that seem to exist side by side and without much interference with the other side. Nigerians are ingenious in the art of resilience. So, in my head is a field where I grow maize and plantains and fish and cattle and imported dainty flowers. I am the farmer who must attend to these since I should not be taking in more than I am willing and able to cultivate well.
But when my cattle start to drink up all the water and there is insufficient for maize to thrive, what do I do?
Sometimes, I have to choose, other times I have to remember that perhaps one is more resilient than the other and could stand a little more abandon that the other. In fact, that is the only way to survive through paradox. And paradox is not new to me, it is like my middle name.
Sooner than later, I learned that I do not need to defend my actions up till the point where everyone has made logical sense of it. As a matter of fact, I am the only one who even remotely believes in such a possibility since the rest of the world is made up of people with varying beliefs / approaches and some will just not make logical reasoning of mine just like I will never make logical reasoning of theirs. So, since I need to convince only myself, how do I assure upbringing that experience and exposure have now secured a place in my living and so have interaction and faith?
Recently, I have listened more and observed even more than I have talked and have seen that there are many situations of gray shades where I would need to allow seemingly contradictory stances live side by side. Co-live and co-thrive, not just co-exist. And my life has become better. But upbringing and experience and exposure and interaction as well as faith, have learned to argue intelligently without resulting in war. I am still learning which ones are more resilient than the others and may suffer greater abandon. For the times when they all match - like parts of a puzzle - I am extremely thankful.
NakedSha.
Our people say:
Esan: Aah ii tọni egbe bi eji egbe rẹ tọnọ.
English: Do not scratch your skin just the way it itches you. - Esan (Ishan) proverb.
..........................................................................................................................................
I initially strayed from the original topic. 'my fascination with the juju man'... COMING SOON! Let this serve as a prelude.Daalu.
(One morning in the mountains, just looking.
It is easy to take for granted the mysteries around us)
Within my head, however, is an array of cleverly interwoven threads of oxymoron.
Perhaps as an entity, I embody oxymoron. After all, taking the country from which I stem, there lie so many contradictions that seem to exist side by side and without much interference with the other side. Nigerians are ingenious in the art of resilience. So, in my head is a field where I grow maize and plantains and fish and cattle and imported dainty flowers. I am the farmer who must attend to these since I should not be taking in more than I am willing and able to cultivate well.
But when my cattle start to drink up all the water and there is insufficient for maize to thrive, what do I do?
Sometimes, I have to choose, other times I have to remember that perhaps one is more resilient than the other and could stand a little more abandon that the other. In fact, that is the only way to survive through paradox. And paradox is not new to me, it is like my middle name.
Sooner than later, I learned that I do not need to defend my actions up till the point where everyone has made logical sense of it. As a matter of fact, I am the only one who even remotely believes in such a possibility since the rest of the world is made up of people with varying beliefs / approaches and some will just not make logical reasoning of mine just like I will never make logical reasoning of theirs. So, since I need to convince only myself, how do I assure upbringing that experience and exposure have now secured a place in my living and so have interaction and faith?
Recently, I have listened more and observed even more than I have talked and have seen that there are many situations of gray shades where I would need to allow seemingly contradictory stances live side by side. Co-live and co-thrive, not just co-exist. And my life has become better. But upbringing and experience and exposure and interaction as well as faith, have learned to argue intelligently without resulting in war. I am still learning which ones are more resilient than the others and may suffer greater abandon. For the times when they all match - like parts of a puzzle - I am extremely thankful.
NakedSha.
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
What Igbos are and Yorubas aren't.
...Omonoba...
Our people say:
Yoruba: Òtítọ́ ní ńtú ẹrù ìkà palẹ̀.
Eng: It is truth that unpacks the load of the wicked for all to see. - Yoruba proverb
.........................................................................................................................................
Happy belated to two very special bloggers - Myne Whitman and Neefemi. I pray for the best for you; may God bless you always.
.........................................................................................................................................
After I had grown up in pure love and peace, I moved to an environment that was very different because of the unnecessary animosity left, right and center. So, when I saw this video, I was hurt. (Thank you, SSD for sharing). It is not the first of such and will not be the last. Sha, I posted it on Facebook and then mentioned that I would blog about it so here we go:
I am still trying to make out whether I am just totally blind towards the need for animosity based solely on tribe - in that case thank God for blindness - or I have just learned well what my mother taught me. I am partly of the Bini kingdom and partly of the Yoruba kingdom (and kindly squeeze in River State somewhere there, since I grew up in that state which I love) and so I have witnessed first hand silly people saying silly things about my heritage. You know, many people have made up in their minds that I am 'diluted' in some way and when I think about these people, I think about pure, undiluted ignorance. And it hurts me that our generation is still very much battling with tribal identities; 'you are Yoruba and therefore filthy, you are Igbo and therefore money-hungry and stingy, you are Hausa and therefore wife-hungry,' etc. Maybe much more subtly than in ages past, but I'm not here to argue whether we are still facing these issues because that's a finished math equation.
Then, I saw this video, three days ago and I was speechless for a while. I wish the interviewer had asked them the following question: 'what do you not like about your own tribe?'. It would not have made their responses any less annoying but I would have liked to hear them. I hardly understand the point of the video. I would like to made a rough guess that those three people are of course supposed to represent their individual tribes and another rough guess that majority of their perceptions are from Nollywood movies, talk-talk and / or what society has helped to teach them. I think this because I heard the same stale stereotypes repeatedly and I was at least hoping to hear something different whether negative or postitive. If you have had friends from a different tribe, that should be enough to dispel shallow conclusions. And it sucks big time because all that I have ever been taught is to love a person for who they are and not flat out judge them before getting to know them just because they are from a certain tribe. I do not even slightly hope to change the whole world because I know not everyone is thinking along the same lines as me but I do hope to let people know that it hurts me. It hurts me when I am called 'diluted' indirectly and otherwise and this has made me much stronger than I would have ever been. If I may, let me write to those who care to read that there is a tendency to think one's tribe is the best. (Forgive me I just laughed at this one. Story for another day) But if you were asked the question. 'what do you dislike about your tribe?', would you have something to say? If yes, would you simply dote on what you feel is expected of you; what the stereotype is?
Think about it.
My friends and I make jokes all the time but ejo, let us separate comedy from reality. In case you get the chance to do such an interview, please be sure that your topic/issue is relevant to the targeted audience. I have slightly broken this wall in order to share because it's terribly ignorant; this video and many prevailing perceptions.
Sadly, if we took a camera around, many responses will be like those in the video.
I rest my case in peace.
Our people say:
Yoruba: Òtítọ́ ní ńtú ẹrù ìkà palẹ̀.
Eng: It is truth that unpacks the load of the wicked for all to see. - Yoruba proverb
.........................................................................................................................................
Happy belated to two very special bloggers - Myne Whitman and Neefemi. I pray for the best for you; may God bless you always.
.........................................................................................................................................
After I had grown up in pure love and peace, I moved to an environment that was very different because of the unnecessary animosity left, right and center. So, when I saw this video, I was hurt. (Thank you, SSD for sharing). It is not the first of such and will not be the last. Sha, I posted it on Facebook and then mentioned that I would blog about it so here we go:
I am still trying to make out whether I am just totally blind towards the need for animosity based solely on tribe - in that case thank God for blindness - or I have just learned well what my mother taught me. I am partly of the Bini kingdom and partly of the Yoruba kingdom (and kindly squeeze in River State somewhere there, since I grew up in that state which I love) and so I have witnessed first hand silly people saying silly things about my heritage. You know, many people have made up in their minds that I am 'diluted' in some way and when I think about these people, I think about pure, undiluted ignorance. And it hurts me that our generation is still very much battling with tribal identities; 'you are Yoruba and therefore filthy, you are Igbo and therefore money-hungry and stingy, you are Hausa and therefore wife-hungry,' etc. Maybe much more subtly than in ages past, but I'm not here to argue whether we are still facing these issues because that's a finished math equation.
Then, I saw this video, three days ago and I was speechless for a while. I wish the interviewer had asked them the following question: 'what do you not like about your own tribe?'. It would not have made their responses any less annoying but I would have liked to hear them. I hardly understand the point of the video. I would like to made a rough guess that those three people are of course supposed to represent their individual tribes and another rough guess that majority of their perceptions are from Nollywood movies, talk-talk and / or what society has helped to teach them. I think this because I heard the same stale stereotypes repeatedly and I was at least hoping to hear something different whether negative or postitive. If you have had friends from a different tribe, that should be enough to dispel shallow conclusions. And it sucks big time because all that I have ever been taught is to love a person for who they are and not flat out judge them before getting to know them just because they are from a certain tribe. I do not even slightly hope to change the whole world because I know not everyone is thinking along the same lines as me but I do hope to let people know that it hurts me. It hurts me when I am called 'diluted' indirectly and otherwise and this has made me much stronger than I would have ever been. If I may, let me write to those who care to read that there is a tendency to think one's tribe is the best. (Forgive me I just laughed at this one. Story for another day) But if you were asked the question. 'what do you dislike about your tribe?', would you have something to say? If yes, would you simply dote on what you feel is expected of you; what the stereotype is?
Think about it.
My friends and I make jokes all the time but ejo, let us separate comedy from reality. In case you get the chance to do such an interview, please be sure that your topic/issue is relevant to the targeted audience. I have slightly broken this wall in order to share because it's terribly ignorant; this video and many prevailing perceptions.
Sadly, if we took a camera around, many responses will be like those in the video.
I rest my case in peace.
Thursday, September 9, 2010
They say I look like her...
...Omonoba...
Our People Say:
Yoruba: Ọmọ ẹni kì í gbọnsẹ̀ ká fi eèsún nù ú nídìí.
English: One does not, after one's child defecates, wipe the child's anus with the abrasive elephant grass. Yoruba Proverb.
....................................................................................................................
Our People Say:
Yoruba: Ọmọ ẹni kì í gbọnsẹ̀ ká fi eèsún nù ú nídìí.
English: One does not, after one's child defecates, wipe the child's anus with the abrasive elephant grass. Yoruba Proverb.
....................................................................................................................
Abasifreke: That foolish woman. She is the cause of father’s paralysis and she is not alive to be his sufferer. If she were alive, at least we wouldn’t have so much responsibility of taking care of father in this state. We are but…
Abasiekeme: How dare you speak of the dead as such, this girl? How dare you speak of our mother as foolish? As you speak, her body shrugs and turns in the grave. If you sleep in peace tonight and the dreams you dream are sweet, then her spirit must be asleep.
Abasifreke: I do not wish to disrespect her but everyone in this town speaks of her as having been a very wicked and hardened woman…
Abasiekeme: Who and who are everyone?
Abasifreke: Everyone
Abasiekeme: You are indeed very and foolish. Everyone? Or father’s family and mother’s enemies? How could you take these as reliable sources irrespective of how many times I have tried to convince you that our mother was a very good woman. Yes, you were very young - a day old - when she died. She died as a result of complications from your birth and you do not even praise her at least in your heart. You are a child, but oh no, you have seen your period for a year now.
Abasifreke: I might have been young but I am old enough now to see father’s paralysis.
Abasiekeme: I don’t justify her mistakes, but they were few.
Abasifreke: Sister ‘Ekeme, you speak as if you can convince everyone that papa’s paralysis was due to something else.
Abasiekeme: You speak of ‘everyone’ again. Shut up this child! Mother’s anger led her to throw the pot of water at father. How many times do you want me to tell you this? The water wasn’t hot, she acted irrationally but it was temperamental.
Abasifreke: And the pot; those ones we use to cook for a lot of people - those steel pots? And of course, the pot found its way to his knee and broke its cap. Sister, do you know how many versions of this story there are out there?
Abasiekeme: I have pleaded with you severally to close your ears to those stories. The ones which matter are those of father and I. If father has asked that his wife’s over-reaction be forgiven and her soul be let to rest in peace, what exactly fuels your persistence?
Abasifreke: They say I look her her. The pictures say so too.
Abasiekeme: And so? She was beautiful and that, you are.
Abasifreke: Hmm, and her traits, did I take them?
"Abasifreke...Abasifreke..."
Abasiekeme: Papa is calling you. Go and see what he needs you for.
Friday, August 27, 2010
I am a happy soul
...Omonoba...
Our People Say:
Eng: As you worship plantain, remember to worship banana as well. - Ghanaian Proverb.
...............................................................................................................................
I am a happy soul.
I found love...
...within myself. This one was easy and it took much less time than it took to learn how to tie shoelaces.
I found love, again...
...in the midst of the simplest names - Passion, Bethlehem, Heaven. The complicated ones - Chikaodinaka, Amenawon, Aituariagbon. That a man and a woman or their child's uncle's mother-in-law saw a future and called the child that future.
I found love, again...
...in my salvation.
I found love, again...
...when the ground screamed in loneliness and tore it's chapped skin. And the sky heard it and sent down wet kisses.
I found love, again...
...in between the pages of books. That someone sat down and wrote down their story or one that they wished belonged to them or one that they wished they never had. And myself, my very own first lover, chose to be a part of this gift.
I found love again...
...within every stanza of a good song or a good poem. A good poem soaked my eyes and a good song warmed my heart - or froze it. And the black and white keys or the brown strings that played this good song.
I found love again...
...not very much in their vows at the altar but after a warm night dinner to her grown daughter; 'find a man like your father' or to his son; 'find a woman like your mother'.
I found love again...
...in my mother's cooking and my father's 'cooking'.
I found love again...
...in pieces of ankara and how the patterns always made sense.
I found love again...
...after my wardrobe went empty and no one knew where things went. But the next day at church, my sister had familiar clothes on her back.
I found love again...
...at least, before I turned forty.
I found love again...
...in bleeding. The worst I could do to it was divert its flow.
I found love again...
...in answers to my questions.
I found love again...
...in memories.
Compared to the depth and potential of love and life, nothing I write will ever be good enough. I'm glad that I found love but thankfully, LOVE FOUND ME FIRST. vv
Have a blessed weekend,
NakedSha.
Our People Say:
Eng: As you worship plantain, remember to worship banana as well. - Ghanaian Proverb.
...............................................................................................................................
I am a happy soul.
I found love...
...within myself. This one was easy and it took much less time than it took to learn how to tie shoelaces.
I found love, again...
...in the midst of the simplest names - Passion, Bethlehem, Heaven. The complicated ones - Chikaodinaka, Amenawon, Aituariagbon. That a man and a woman or their child's uncle's mother-in-law saw a future and called the child that future.
I found love, again...
...in my salvation.
I found love, again...
...when the ground screamed in loneliness and tore it's chapped skin. And the sky heard it and sent down wet kisses.
I found love, again...
...in between the pages of books. That someone sat down and wrote down their story or one that they wished belonged to them or one that they wished they never had. And myself, my very own first lover, chose to be a part of this gift.
I found love again...
...within every stanza of a good song or a good poem. A good poem soaked my eyes and a good song warmed my heart - or froze it. And the black and white keys or the brown strings that played this good song.
I found love again...
...not very much in their vows at the altar but after a warm night dinner to her grown daughter; 'find a man like your father' or to his son; 'find a woman like your mother'.
I found love again...
...in my mother's cooking and my father's 'cooking'.
I found love again...
...in pieces of ankara and how the patterns always made sense.
I found love again...
...after my wardrobe went empty and no one knew where things went. But the next day at church, my sister had familiar clothes on her back.
I found love again...
...at least, before I turned forty.
I found love again...
...in bleeding. The worst I could do to it was divert its flow.
I found love again...
...in answers to my questions.
I found love again...
...in memories.
'BORN AGAIN' T-Shirt.
This is one of the reasons I wear t-shirts - to share a message or something I love.
Have a blessed weekend,
NakedSha.
Monday, August 9, 2010
Since the bride price...
...Omonoba...
Our people say:
Yoruba: Eni tí ó bá máa bímo á yò fólómo.
Eng: Whoever would have children of her own must rejoice with those who already have - Yoruba Proverb.
...............................................................................................................................
My beautiful readers,
I have been busy working towards the new blog. The url and name shouldn't change but I am expanding it and making it into what I hoped it would one day become. 5 months and 81 followers later, I am thrilled and ready to take the next step in my plan book.
...............................................................................................................................
Since the bride price and first night,
Everything has changed
His eyes do not glitter as before
The feel of his skin is like any other
I haven't done something wrong,
Abi?
This silence is like my childlessness
And he never speaks about it
Abi,
One man's love will last forever?
Has my skin fallen
Or has my cooking failed?
I pray for a child, for other reasons
One to love me unconditionally
Abi,
A child will always love their ma?
This anger is eating me up
And my barrenness is my curse
But if my husband comes home early
I will ask him if my breasts have fallen.
Our people say:
Yoruba: Eni tí ó bá máa bímo á yò fólómo.
Eng: Whoever would have children of her own must rejoice with those who already have - Yoruba Proverb.
...............................................................................................................................
My beautiful readers,
I have been busy working towards the new blog. The url and name shouldn't change but I am expanding it and making it into what I hoped it would one day become. 5 months and 81 followers later, I am thrilled and ready to take the next step in my plan book.
...............................................................................................................................
Since the bride price and first night,
Everything has changed
His eyes do not glitter as before
The feel of his skin is like any other
I haven't done something wrong,
Abi?
This silence is like my childlessness
And he never speaks about it
Abi,
One man's love will last forever?
Has my skin fallen
Or has my cooking failed?
I pray for a child, for other reasons
One to love me unconditionally
Abi,
A child will always love their ma?
This anger is eating me up
And my barrenness is my curse
But if my husband comes home early
I will ask him if my breasts have fallen.
Saturday, July 24, 2010
What my albino character taught me:
...Omonoba...
Our people say:
Yoruba: Èèmejì letí olójà ńgbórò.
Eng: The ears of the king hear everything twice. - Yoruba Proverb.
......................................................................................................................
Bless,
Our people say:
Yoruba: Èèmejì letí olójà ńgbórò.
Eng: The ears of the king hear everything twice. - Yoruba Proverb.
......................................................................................................................
PH City (7months ago)
.......................................................................................................................................
By the way: I feel very strongly the need to travel 'round Nigeria more. Now, I realize how much there is to see and do. When they ask me for my best country, it is not difficult to give an answer. 'I have drank many waters, eaten many foods, worn many clothes but have had only one home'...NakedSha.
By the way: I feel very strongly the need to travel 'round Nigeria more. Now, I realize how much there is to see and do. When they ask me for my best country, it is not difficult to give an answer. 'I have drank many waters, eaten many foods, worn many clothes but have had only one home'...NakedSha.
.......................................................................................................................................
I am still writing about an albino. My friend, E-Smiles is giving me awesome moral support from Lagos and with him, I hope to cover a good portion of my research soon. Do you remember when we wrote stories as children and often, we would write about what we were not or what our little minds could best imagine? I remember. I wrote about pixies and elves (thanks to Enid Blyton) and midnight mountain adventures with long torches and a family dog (thanks to the Ladybird series). What happened to that culture? Now, it is almost the norm to write about what we are, who are are. Unfortunately, we soon run out of our own stories unless we reach out to tell those of others. Besides, telling my own story incites restraint. I am constantly thinking about what should be told and how much of it should not be shared. So now, I am writing about an albino and learning much more than I ever expected. In telling the stories of others, I learn from them. To my character, the sun is both an enemy and something that is secretly longed for because the sun seems to be darkening everyone else but bleaching him.
And I know now that I am just like the albino. Today, I long for age but deep down within me, I fear that age will bring wisdom that will swell and then burst like the party balloon. Until I become frail and useless.
Bless,
NakedSha.
Monday, July 19, 2010
If I sent you a letter, would you...?
...Omonoba...
Our people say:
Yoruba: Ení bá sùn là ńjí, a kì í jí apiroro.
Eng: One wakes only those that sleep; one does not wake those pretending to sleep. - Yoruba proverb.
...........................................................................................................................
Pictures out of my letterbox:
Our people say:
Yoruba: Ení bá sùn là ńjí, a kì í jí apiroro.
Eng: One wakes only those that sleep; one does not wake those pretending to sleep. - Yoruba proverb.
...........................................................................................................................
Pictures out of my letterbox:
^Bad handwriting day.
^One of the letters I received from my Secondary School Junior friends.
^
All these letters are years apart. I still write letters. I'm advocating for the useful old traditions that we once had like letter-writing. Remember to be careful with what you write because 'once written, forever there.'
Find a loved one and send them a letter. AND KEEP THEIRS
Hang in there, you just may receive a letter from me!!!
NakedSha...
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Once in a while, I bleed...
...Omonoba...
Our people say:
Yoruba: Onísùúrù ní ńse oko omo Aláhúsá.
Eng: Only the patient person will win the daughter of the Hausa man. - Yoruba Proverb.
.........................................................................................................................................
It's a lot of work to find oneself all over again. It's very interesting and rewarding but it's not always easy. It's HARD. One of those things that eventually, one can say is truly WORTH THE WHILE.
.........................................................................................................................
Jaycee, FYI: I have fallen in love with Coelho...big time.
.......................................................................................................................
I grew up exposed to so many different cultures understanding that I am bi-cultural and permit me to claim the Rivers state heritage also since I grew up there and will forever have nostalgic churns in my stomach and flooded eyes with the mention of The Old Place. Moving later on away from this bliss - this perfection of love and joy and togetherness - I was already biased against wherever it was that I would be moving to. I partly blame my dislike for the new place therefore, on this warped state of my mind. But, I wish it proved me wrong and at least fought to correct my impression. Almost everything was different from what I recognized as normal and yet the new place is within Nigeria. Suddenly, it was an issue that I had grown up in The Old Place and not somewhere else. Growing up in a different environment from what everyone else was used to the meant that I was spoiled and too easy-going and accepting of others. All of a sudden, it was thrown in my face that I was not just the normal Yoruba girl - I had Edo blood and therefore, I must be diluted. I, along with the ones that I love, fought to try to explain carefully that it was beautiful to be immersed in other cultures and learn from them but that was a futile move. Then, I chose instead to watch how things were done and why they were done as such in the new place. It was quite difficult to determine but with time, it was clear. Now, I'm terribly flooded with awful memories of wickedness. It is wickedness because this new place sought bitterly to rid me of the simplicity that I had known and the love that will help to move the world forward - the kind that even Christ would approve of. In all honesty, if I could, I would get rid of every single moment in the new place and grow up until this point in The Old Place because (TOP) reminds me of stripped beauty and love. Last Christmas, when I made my annual trip back home, I went through (TOP) and dare I say that I would not be doing this again. Landing in (TOP) had me crying uncontrollably because I was almost forced out of there and definitely not to a better place. Sleeping in its hotel bed over-night was much better though because we - the city and I - seemed to be communicating and catching up on old times and I heard it almost audibly reach out its comforting arms to me. The next morning, I moved on to the new place. Now, I think I may return home to serve (NYSC) since those of us who go to school outside Nigeria have a choice of where we may serve. People have sworn that I would choose Abuja or Calabar or The New Place...and betray (TOP)? Never! It was almost as if I was turning mad with all my nostalgic outbreaks regarding this city where I grew and lived and learned and failed and succeeded and schooled and then left by everything but choice, until one of the ones that I love recently confessed that he felt the same way too. So, the militants had control over it for a while and it does not necessarily have the most cinema houses or shopping malls but I understand the language of the earth of the Garden City and it understands mine. So, tomorrow, when I want to write a memoir of my life, I would make sure that honor is given to whom honor is due. Maybe if I was removed to a better place or at the very worst, the same place but with a different experience, I would have a different story to tell. But every time I speak of my childhood, I speak of love and peace and my eyes cry. The new place - the one that I have tried so hard to love - does not feel the same.
...........................................................................................................................
And The Old Place (and all the people who were in it with me) taught me to see far beyond tribe and culture and see a person for who he / she is. The new place fought hard to make me myopic.
From bleeding NakedSha,
Bless...
Our people say:
Yoruba: Onísùúrù ní ńse oko omo Aláhúsá.
Eng: Only the patient person will win the daughter of the Hausa man. - Yoruba Proverb.
.........................................................................................................................................
It's a lot of work to find oneself all over again. It's very interesting and rewarding but it's not always easy. It's HARD. One of those things that eventually, one can say is truly WORTH THE WHILE.
.........................................................................................................................
Jaycee, FYI: I have fallen in love with Coelho...big time.
.......................................................................................................................
I grew up exposed to so many different cultures understanding that I am bi-cultural and permit me to claim the Rivers state heritage also since I grew up there and will forever have nostalgic churns in my stomach and flooded eyes with the mention of The Old Place. Moving later on away from this bliss - this perfection of love and joy and togetherness - I was already biased against wherever it was that I would be moving to. I partly blame my dislike for the new place therefore, on this warped state of my mind. But, I wish it proved me wrong and at least fought to correct my impression. Almost everything was different from what I recognized as normal and yet the new place is within Nigeria. Suddenly, it was an issue that I had grown up in The Old Place and not somewhere else. Growing up in a different environment from what everyone else was used to the meant that I was spoiled and too easy-going and accepting of others. All of a sudden, it was thrown in my face that I was not just the normal Yoruba girl - I had Edo blood and therefore, I must be diluted. I, along with the ones that I love, fought to try to explain carefully that it was beautiful to be immersed in other cultures and learn from them but that was a futile move. Then, I chose instead to watch how things were done and why they were done as such in the new place. It was quite difficult to determine but with time, it was clear. Now, I'm terribly flooded with awful memories of wickedness. It is wickedness because this new place sought bitterly to rid me of the simplicity that I had known and the love that will help to move the world forward - the kind that even Christ would approve of. In all honesty, if I could, I would get rid of every single moment in the new place and grow up until this point in The Old Place because (TOP) reminds me of stripped beauty and love. Last Christmas, when I made my annual trip back home, I went through (TOP) and dare I say that I would not be doing this again. Landing in (TOP) had me crying uncontrollably because I was almost forced out of there and definitely not to a better place. Sleeping in its hotel bed over-night was much better though because we - the city and I - seemed to be communicating and catching up on old times and I heard it almost audibly reach out its comforting arms to me. The next morning, I moved on to the new place. Now, I think I may return home to serve (NYSC) since those of us who go to school outside Nigeria have a choice of where we may serve. People have sworn that I would choose Abuja or Calabar or The New Place...and betray (TOP)? Never! It was almost as if I was turning mad with all my nostalgic outbreaks regarding this city where I grew and lived and learned and failed and succeeded and schooled and then left by everything but choice, until one of the ones that I love recently confessed that he felt the same way too. So, the militants had control over it for a while and it does not necessarily have the most cinema houses or shopping malls but I understand the language of the earth of the Garden City and it understands mine. So, tomorrow, when I want to write a memoir of my life, I would make sure that honor is given to whom honor is due. Maybe if I was removed to a better place or at the very worst, the same place but with a different experience, I would have a different story to tell. But every time I speak of my childhood, I speak of love and peace and my eyes cry. The new place - the one that I have tried so hard to love - does not feel the same.
...........................................................................................................................
And The Old Place (and all the people who were in it with me) taught me to see far beyond tribe and culture and see a person for who he / she is. The new place fought hard to make me myopic.
From bleeding NakedSha,
Bless...
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