A Diary of Shibi O'nike

"He is a compendium" daddy said. I went home. What is that? The next comes, another day happens. "enigma of happening possibilities such imperfect being, ambigiously ambitious". "I have seen his constant his variables to dynamism little, more scenes.  ever incomplete, he steals and compete in last adventure he dips". I have not met him, I don't know the man whose essay contained the last phase on his diary.

 Stalking ropes from the past every day by goes rush with slow starts dejecting singular undertones return of huge jitters and the poignant smile from the future Diverse ruritanian dreams strict on ensued dilemma two bigger heads of ploy Only occupied spaces fit close options near many nope! unmade choices Pokemonabouting harvest and about every seat asit stiles to steeps ascending gradient valleys 

I began my gratitude tale from the start, skipped two days to let in the soak of the weekend where I had so much images of my younger days stream through my dreams in the passing week. Naming one character over the other sort of seemed the latter bore less significance. So I say the names mentioned here are men whose footprints in my life cried louder (at this point) for statement, the rest are no less neither does non disclosure reduce their legacy. Moving on... LESSON VII 28 Men That Formed Me : Mama Bobo : The first house sat somewhere at the St Patrick's axis, big in my baby eyes, was unpainted, adjacent Ibelefun road, guarded by cany flowers face to face CAC. Efficient was a dynasty, where I was bled into a line of gods in invention. The woman who rocked me for the better half of the day, she fed us yam, rice, moi-moi, & never buns. Of all she made us eat, the best diet was our robust grooming on a government approved academic staple, laced with extra curricula branches in...

Imagine a world where every one behaved the same way🤔 Think of a world with all behaviour like yours. Does better define or worse capture that image? We see in, essay of and  react to others, reflections of contents of the layers of our beliefs.  We want to change our lives for the better, yardsticked on  a fine vision, of a potent trajectory. Say things take a different turn, we still find people take detours, some stick that reliving stereotypic inspiring stories is and remains the only recipe.  We should learn  that experiences that formed beliefs are never same neither will adopting a known model fare better than gained experiences.☹️ We all want to see a better shop, safer hospitals, cleaner drainages, attend standard schools, have good pay, and live in secure estates. Yet aggregates of our effort in effecting these doesn't tally with the longing. We are quick to point the opposite direction, spot faults, & our best in trading blame stock. The game is ...

 I feel like having sex now ❗Warning not for persons under the age of 18years.❗  "I mean we could do it in the bathroom if you do wish." Four days into my new job that blue Saturday in October 2017, travel was the in thingy in my job, malaria robbed  the guy next desk so I fell in. Every other thing tapering down except my one-eyed snake nodding in alleluia. To Frank, I was not like the rest, "That settles it, you will take my seat at the conference alongside my wife." His presence delayed strange felicitations from people whom only three days ago locked me in my cubicle after close of work. That was in 2012, after I broke ties with Victoria, and her ill wand over my life. I was in love with Gift, a half Nigerian half Kri from our Calabar branch. I love the smell of rain, the twitch of my toes in wet soles and longing for bed. They remind me of Asaba, 12hours on Nnebisi road and a lifetime roll in the sheets.  I wish I had ridden her.  "to me I am way upper tha...

My mum teaches English at Vocal Stars School. My father always carries a big case, he loves wearing safari. For as long as I can recall, I guess I was five years old or thereabout. We were always home alone with her, I and Eledi, my immediate younger brother. She was from my mother’s village. The last time I looked for the church bulletin in the old factory calendar file where he kept it, she was carrying aunty Charity at infant. Subtle and dotting in hours when our parents were home. Aunty Ihedi followed us on a new year eve back from the village. Mum wanted a credible house help and not just anyone… She placed an eagle eye on us as mum gave her. Never did Ebenga, my closest friend next doorstep his flat clay feet on our red carpet nor could I go out to play mortal combat at Sanel's. As soon as she came in, our front door was at all times shut. "Our eyes were locked on screenplays of Nollywood. I can't forget 'Top Secret'. Saint Obi is my favorite ac...