Flash Fiction: Sweet Intervention

Pink or purple, he could not decide which to settle for. His eyes met the bottle of perfume you treasured, not the same one but its type, the one you only dabbed on Sundays. Not sure if he should switch to buying that, he rolled his fingers into a fist and shook them like they held dice within. By the time he unfurled the ball of his fist, he had somehow gravitated towards the sales attendant, the one with glittering skin, not as evenly toned liked yours but she smelled as good.

“I was thinking of buying her a good perfume, one with a luring smell like yours,” he said, pointing to the row where bottles in varying amusing shapes sat like mini-gods. Her eyes rolled half-clockwise and her smile dipped towards the left corner of her lips. He adjusted his gaze. “Actually, I was even thinking of getting her lingerie,” he said. She looked at him and allowed the curve of her lips stretch into a crescent before she said “Colour, size?”

It was then he realised he had been thinking in colours without shapes. He remembered the first day you sat beside him in the chapel wearing that blue silk gown, the one that drooped a bit at the front. He could still feel you brushing his arms as you made to pick your jotting pad from the floor before he offered to help. But he knew. He felt more than what he saw. These things are measured in cups but he could not even think of an alphabet. The attendant tapped on the table. He looked up and then down, beyond her necklace. He didn’t know for sure how she would react but he would do anything for you, even risk a slap and just as he made to speak, you tapped him from behind.


2014 in review

The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2014 annual report for this blog.

Here's an excerpt:

A San Francisco cable car holds 60 people. This blog was viewed about 940 times in 2014. If it were a cable car, it would take about 16 trips to carry that many people.

Click here to see the complete report.

A President and His Many Popes


Pres. Jonathan, credits: Bellanaija.com

This is not about the President’s recent visit to Israel with notable leaders of the Christian faith in Nigeria or the special sessions tagged a day with Jesus for Nigeria in Israel. We have been having many days with Jesus in Nigeria and rightly so, hence no need placing too much emphasis on another held in Israel with taxpayers’ funds. Never mind that one of the respected clergymen on the President’s entourage recently, derisively, asked Reuters why he should pay tax to Nigeria. Majority of Nigerian taxpayers quite frankly hold the belief that the prayers offered in Israel for Nigeria’s blessings just as the many that are continually being offered in Nigeria will in no time see to the end of corruption, build roads and hospitals, create jobs and generate electricity. Afterall, the fervent prayer of the righteous man makes much power available, dynamic in its working.
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Uncle Folly: Do You Know Who I Am?


Queue at a Fuel Station; credits: punchng.com

Uncle Folly was one of the bus drivers at my primary school. There was also Uncle Doyin and later Sir Jido. I am not sure which of the Yoruba names ‘Folly’ must have been a short form of. It could have been from ‘Folorunsho’, ‘Afolabi’ or something like that. One afternoon at a filling station, Uncle Folly brought the school bus up behind a Datsun saloon car but with some space in between and it was that space that a just-arriving driver of a Peugeot 504 tried to maneuver into. Uncle Folly went to have a word with him but it seemed one word would not be enough. Uncle Folly shouted in the man’s face “Se o mo bi mo se je sha?” which translates “Do you know who I am?” The other man replied: “Firigbon o silekun o, eni to ni kokoro dani ni” loosely translated a key opens the door not physical size. He did a bit of punching the air and Uncle Folly folded his arms. He pulled off his shirt and turned his back to show Uncle Folly series of scars. Uncle Folly smiled then dipped his right hand in his pocket to bring out a ring.
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On Ebola: We Have Been Lucky


Dr. Onyebuchi, Nigeria's Health Minister. Credits: newsnigeria.com

When the current wave of ebola epidemic began to claim lives by the hour in Guinea, Sierra Leone and Liberia around March 2014, a handful of proactive Nigerians alerted the Federal Government and sought to know what measures were being put in place to ready the nation for any occurrence. In response, the government on April 2nd, 2014 through its Minister of Information informed Nigerians that there was no cause to worry, that Nigeria had put everything necessary in place to ensure that the virus does not get into Nigeria and that, should by a stroke of highly improbable magic, a minuscule of the virus disease stray into anywhere in Nigeria, we had in stock an endless supply of vaccines to make the virus regret its mistaken entry. Continue reading



APC Stalwarts. Credit: Dada...

The All Progressives Congress recently announced that it will be holding its presidential primaries in October 2014, adopting what it termed a modified direct primary. The nomination method adopted will see presidential aspirants within the party being voted for at a convention of party delegates elected from all states of the federation. The decision of the party aligns with the provisions of section 87 of the Electoral Act 2010 which is the extant law governing the conduct of elections and related matters in Nigeria. While we await further announcements as to the specific date of the party’s convention as well as the expression of interests by all the presidential aspirants within the fold, a bit of history on the nomination of presidential candidates by Nigeria’s biggest political parties over the years is considered expedient.

The 1993 presidential elections widely adjudged as the most transparent elections in Nigeria yet, may be the best starting point for the brief recourse.
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What If I Don’t Miss You


Credit: Jagbir Singh Randhawa

I once got into a conversation with a friend about what it really means to miss someone else. It’s common to casually tell friends and family we have not seen in a while that we miss them, sometimes as a perfunctory response to their own declaration. We get busy with chasing our dreams and making ends meet that we rarely feel any vacuum created by people’s absence but when eventually meet and we say we miss them, what do we really miss: their voice, touch, mannerisms, actions or what exactly? Continue reading