SECRETS, LOVE AND TRUST

From time to time, I always remember the story Simi told me a couple of years ago. How could I forget? Simi was someone with one of the most intriguing stories I've heard. Her story sounded like something you'd only stumble on, in movies or some sort of fiction, only a mischievous writer could come up with. How open should you be with a prospective spouse?

She was an orphan, who had been forced into early motherhood, as she had to take responsibility for her three younger siblings. She was just in her first year in the University, and thanks to her level of exposure and information; she had resorted to a “by any means necessary” way of life. She juggled two businesses by day and joined up with fellow hookers by night. She kept her night life a secret and not even Lizzy, her best friend knew what she was up to at night. She graduated with a 2.1 and sponsored her siblings through school.

“She did what she had to do”.

She had met Roland soon after securing a job with ABC multinational Oil and Gas Company and he was her supervisor. She was the hardest worker in the room, so he’d rather work with her, than any other person on the team. Feelings crept in and they started going out. Over time, Simi had familiarized herself over various phone calls, with Roland’s parents. Three and half years later, he proposed.

They had talked about their past – Roland told her how he battled with masturbation and kleptomania during his teenage years. She had also told him about the death of her parents and how she managed to raise three kids all by herself. Also, how she used to be sexually attracted to both genders, into her early twenties. They both knew all that there was to know… except a minute detail. She didn’t tell Roland about her past “Night Life”.

Every time she came close to spilling it, her courage would fail her. “Some parts of the past are better left hidden away.” she’ll tell herself and shrug off the urge to tell him. Roland now owned his own oil and gas company, but Simi still worked with ABC Oil and Gas Company. The future was looking good for the intending couple. Roland’s parents were both based in the States, after his Mum threatened to come back if his Dad didn’t come join her.

Simi was to finally meet her prospective in-laws for the first time. They had travelled down. Roland drove her to their abode in Magodo. The house looked magnificent and everything had a touch of class… but there was a problem. A huge problem, in fact. Right there on the wall, staring at her was an image of someone that took her right back to her night life – Her sugar daddy back in the days. He had met her at Allen Avenue and he played a significant role in her life.

Ten months of a lot of s3x, a lot of money, and a lot of lies. Oh, and it didn’t go without three abortions too. The part of her past she believed was dead and buried, was all up, right in her face. Roland’s parents would make their way down the stairs any minute now, and the ground had better swallowed her up, than shamelessly sit down in front of “Papa D”.

"When opening up to a partner, is it right to leave some parts of your past out?"

"If you find out a filthy past about your partner, would you feel betrayed?"

"Would you rather lie and keep a loved one, or say the truth and lose them?"


"Can trust, when broken, ever be rebuilt like new?"


Secrets, Love and Trust.



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MARY AND THE CURSED CROSS


“Hail Mary, full of grace, the lord is with thee; blessed art thou amongst women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death. Amen!”

I stood up, dragged out the little box from under my bed, and jacked it open. The revolver lay still in there, reflecting the little moonlight that penetrated into the room. I checked the little black pouch containing the bullets, and they were intact – Perfect! I dislodged the chamber and seeded the bullets into it, spinning it shut, just as soon as I was done.

This ends now!

I exited the room to the realization that everywhere was pitch-black. I hadn’t noticed how dark it was, as I had scrambled my way up earlier, locking my room shut as soon as I jumped up the stairs. I began descending the stairs, one slow step after the other. I had a torch in one hand, and a revolver in another. My heart beat so fast, it scared me. I could literally feel blood flow through my veins.

“Baam!” something fell from the ceiling.

The loud thud made me miss a step, and I came sliding down the stairs on my back. I winced in pain as a broken piece of wood sliced through the left side of my lower back. I was now bleeding on my right leg, my right temple and my back, but that was the least of my worries. I scrambled for my torch, and immediately pointed it towards the direction of what fell from the ceiling.

“Sarah! Oh my God!” I shrieked at the sight of what was staring at me. Her eyes looked blank and reflective. Half of her neck was viciously ripped off; her left hand was missing. Even though she was covered in a pool of blood, I could see that she was eviscerated. I couldn’t tell if it was just me, or her intestines looked like they were still moving.

Something moved quickly across the ceiling.

“MARY?!!” I yelled as I tried to follow the movement with the light from my torch. I couldn’t catch up. I knew whatever that was, crawling on the ceiling, wasn’t Mary. Abigail had found the golden, ancient looking cross this morning on the farm. It looked like it had been there for decades. She had suddenly developed an abnormal affection towards it all morning.

By mid-day, she had begun behaving strangely, cuddling the cross and talking to it. By evening, Sarah and Mary tried separating their mum from her discovery, only to realize how pale she looked, and her eyeballs were totally black. Something had taken over Abigail. She attacked our daughters, and it took their courage, and stab of wood to the head for her to let go of Mary’s throat.

One way or the other, Mary had touched the cross, and was cursed too. She had hit me on the head with a goblet as I tried to wrestle Sarah from her grasp, and scratched my right leg, as I bolted for the revolver in my room. I’ll be calling the Priest tomorrow morning, but I’ve got to survive this night first. Whatever it ta…

…Mary jumped out of nowhere!

She grabbed my throat, shouting wildly as she continuously tried to gnaw at my face. Her face was covered with blood, her jaw was missing, and her tongue was so long, it flapped against the back of my neck. Both my torch and revolver had fallen. Air stuck in my throat, and my lungs began to expand. I fought her off, with every ounce of strength in me.

She was inhumanely strong.

I was feeling faint already. In one instant, as I was backing up against the wall, I stepped on Sarah’s blood, slipped, and fell. She almost took a big bite of my face, but I quickly turned away. There it was! Reflecting sympathetically, the last ray of hope I had of making it out of my house alive. I grabbed the revolver, and just as I did, Mary bit my left ear off. I screamed.

I pointed the muzzle in between the black holes that used to be her eyes.

 “Forgive me Mary!” I whispered as I pulled back the hammer, and squeezed the trigger.

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THE FIGHTER

I smile now as I remember back in 2012, the younger Jaybee in his twenties, labelled the ambitious kid by everyone who knew him then. He always wondered why people referred to him as "T-Money" but apparently, kid was all about the money. If it was not making money, it wasn't making sense. So kid always looked out for ways by which more money could be made. He was always up all night, trying to get lucky...

...I gotta digress quickly.

Let me ask you quick question - Ever heard a song, and your immediate reaction was "Mhen, this song is crap!"... Only to catch yourself singing the same song much later? Or have you ever listened to a song that made you feel energetic or gloomy? Also, have you ever listened to a song in another language, without a single idea of what the singer was saying, but you totally connected with it?

MUSIC!

Ever wondered why MUSIC is said to be the food of the SOUL? It is simply because music has the ability to transcend your physicality, connecting with seamless fluidity with your spirituality. Music can be a weapon, an antidote, a means of provoking the spiritual, a means of preserving history, a cultural pointer, a distraction, an indicator, and so much more. Music has more to it than meets the eye (and ears. Lol!)

Health researches put the revenues from "Digital Drugs" at about half of what typical "drugs" rake in. DD's are simply binaural beats that alter the brain's wave patterns, inducing an altered state of consciousness. Using DD results in a high. Practically the same effect as using any typical "drug". Ever seen people die with headphones on, blood, unexplainably oozing out of their noses and mouths? That's DD abuse.

Sorry for the graphic illustration.

The point here is - If you've ever heard the saying "Guard your heart with all diligence, for out of it flows the issues of life" (it's a biblical verse - Proverbs 4:23) then, don't you for once think that the kind of music you expose yourself to, is an exemption. If an American president can say the cause of increased gangterism and public violence towards LGBT, was a rapper's music, then don't think he's totally delusional.

We may have little or no control over what we hear, but we've got to be more intentional about what we listen to; especially these days when music is implemented as a drill to bore more holes into the already severely perforated morality. There is more to music than meets the eye (and ears). Have you ever been singing a song in your mind, only for someone else to sing it out loud? 

Let's watch what goes in, as they form the ingredients to produce what comes out.

You thought I forgot I started with a story. Right? Back to the story. So, young Jaybee had invested in some seemingly sure deals that had nosedived and crashed. He felt so bad, it was eating him up deep inside. With no one physically available to talk to, Jaybee was strolling on the edge of depression. Suddenly, he stumbled on a song that came to the rescue.

Excerpts of the Lyrics:

"...Until the referee rings the bell
Until both your eyes start to swell
Until the crowd goes home
What we gonna do y'all?

Give 'em hell, turn their heads
Gonna live life till we're dead.
Give me scars, give me pain
Then just say to me, say to me, say to me
There goes a fighter, there goes a fighter
Here comes a fighter
That's what they'll say to me, say to me
Say to me, this one's a fighter"

My fav genre of music is rap and back in 2012, Gym Class Heroes' THE FIGHTER served a higher purpose than just entertainment. Till today, it's more than just a song to me. That song was my "bounce back" song.

Be intentional about your music.

Cheers!

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MY SURPRISE LAGOS WEDDING

It was a lovely Monday morning. The African sun had strolled out early and had begun her catwalk on her cloudy runway in all her elegance. It was my first day at work, and I was determined to make a superb first impression. I was dressed up in my whitish white shirt and slim fit blue trouser. I checked myself out in the mirror, and I was looking like fresh bread, straight outta the oven.

I smiled, gave myself a peck, grabbed my keys and my laptop bag, and whispered "Leggo!" as I stepped onto the street of Lagos, straight to the bus park. Oh the keys? I meant the keys to my simple self contain apartment in the heart of Ojuelegba. I took a quick glance at my watch - 6:50am. Nice! I felt a bit uneasy, being only the second person in the 14-Seater bus that wouldn't move an inch until it was full.

Little did I know that I was heading to my own surprise wedding.

"CMS! CMS!! Two hundred. CMS!!!" The bus conductor screamed at the top of his voice. "Oga enter. One bus just commot now" I sighed and climbed into the bus. Not long after, passengers started coming in, in ones and twos. "Enter with your change o. Five hundred, One thousand, ma wole o (Don't enter). Na Monday morning be this o." The bus conductor gave his quick instructions and continued yelling "CMS! CMS!!"

The last two passengers made their way into the bus - A guy, and a lady. The guy was well built; like a bouncer and the moment he stepped into the bus, it went down a bit, acknowledging his weight. The lady looked like a half cast; her red gown was nicely cut and her natural hair was dark and well packed. "All these team naturalistas" I thought to myself. The driver made his way into his seat, kissed the positive and negative wires under the steering wheel together and the bus coughed to life.

As we journeyed from Ojuelegba to CMS, the baby on the back of the woman sitting right in front of me began playfully trying to drag my phone. On a normal day, I would play with his cheeks or make funny faces but not today. Today, he only constituted a distraction from my focus - "Lady-in-Red", seated at the far end, two seats away. So baby, please free me and let me strategically stare without getting caught.

We had just passed Costain, and were now on Carter Bridge, when the bus conductor, who was typically hanging from the door of the bus, leaned in. He looked angry but like most others, it probably was his face's default setting. "Yes, your money from the front" he motioned, meaning it was time to collect the bus fares. On impulse, I wanted to pay for "Lady-in-red" but thanks to my strict feeding budget, I couldn't.

That would mean no lunch meal. Probably just enough to buy snacks and a bottle of coke and I don't like what I hate - Hunger. So I rebuked the thought and brought out my N500 note. The conductor took the cash and continued his grumbling about warning everyone in the bus about not having change. Everyone ignored him. The two women in the front kept chorusing "Conductor; change o!"

An hour later, We got to the last stop at CMS and everyone alighted from the bus. The conductor sorted everyone's change, still grumbling "Shebi I don tell una say make una enter with Change!". Lo and behold, a couple of seconds later, I was standing next to "Lady-in-Red", both our hands stretched expectantly towards the bus conductor.

The conductor took a quick glance at both our faces, I couldn't tell if it was just me, or he actually had a mischievous smile on his face but before either of us could say Jack, he squeezed a One Thousand Naira note into Lady-in-Red's hand and shouted "Give this bros three hundred naira. I don join una together."

We looked at each, then looked up at him, as he was still hanging from the door of the bus, and it was as if he was admiring us both. He hit the top of the bus twice, and shouted "Oya! Go on!"... Just as the bus made to zoom off, I kid you not, this guy, with a wide grin on his face waved at us and shouted "Happy Married Life o!".

We looked at each other, probably wondering how long this new surprise marriage would last. I'll leave the rest to your imagination but just so you know that it was a really hungry first day at work.

Hehehe.

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THE 4TH IDIOT


“Life is too short to….”

Since the emergence of that phrase in the early years of the millennium, it has been one of the most adopted phrases, used to provide reasons to do… or not to do something. A quick instance – When people ask me why I don’t really watch Indian movies, my response is “life is too short to watch a movie for 5 hours (I exaggerate. I know. Bite me). Indians are so skilled in strategically embedding music videos in movies.

Am I the only one who skips it past the singing and dancing part?

Just sitting to write now, I remember one Indian movie that got me hooked from start to finish. I couldn’t even skip the singing and dancing parts. It was just too good to be skipped. It wasn’t any shorter than usual (2hrs 51mins) but it was a perfect blend of the right ingredients needed to make a badass movie, and one of the few movies to earn a hundred percent on Rotten Tomatoes. But I’m not writing a movie review.

You see, most times, a lot of us journey through life, unconsciously using pressure as the compass, forgetting that life itself is one big “pressure” park. Just like we’ll select whether we’re using the Carousel, the Swing, the Bumper Car, or the Roller Coaster, we should also select the pressure we’re paying attention to, at different points in our lives. A couple of things go right, more go wrong, when pressure is applied.

That’s why sometimes I look around and realize a lot of us might just be the 4th idiot from the movie “3 Idiots”. A lot of people walk around, transferring aggression like Viru “Virus” Sahastrabudhhe, others like Raju Rastogi, totally dependent on spirituality to waddle through life’s pressures; others like Farhan “Fahrenheit”, forming “mans not hot” but burning and choking up deep inside.

Oh! Not also forgetting those of us like Chatur “Silencer” who’s reaction to pressure is simply “The End Justifies The Means”. Then of course, the “Rancho”, pressured into living other people’s lives. One thing that makes no sense is when people do what they hate just so they can be paid enough to afford the things they love. Which is the reason some people only smile at month ends. I’m serious.

A lot of “4th idiot” sports personalities, suiting up to the bank daily. “4th idiot” farmers, sitting in a cubicle, wearing headsets and robotically reciting “Thank you for calling XYZ telecoms. How may I help you today?”. “4th idiot” job seekers, searching for employment for 4 years, when their businesses should be celebrating its 4th anniversary. A lot of us are just living lives according to societal, cultural, financial, and emotional pressures around us.

Our words may be false, our actions may be deceptive, but pressure is a revealer. Give two people the same task. One who’s just there for the money you promised to pay at the end and another who’s not only skilled, but also passionate about that thing and see the contrast in their results. It’s time to stop being the “4th idiot” and exchange the “Pressure Compass” we’ve carried all these while for the “Passion Compass”.

“Follow your passion, for on that path lies the Joy of living a fulfilled life” 


Cheers!



PS: To fully understand this article, you might need to first watch the Indian movie “3 Idiots”.



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YOUR BIGGEST MOTIVATION

Wow! Is it really just 40-plus days to the end of the year already? Where’d all the days go? How many of the things we wrote out to accomplish before the end of the year, have we actually accomplished? How many of those things are already looking like they aren’t going to happen this year anymore? Why is it that sometimes, we dive into a challenge before our rational mind, famed for over-calculation can paralyse us?

Other times, we hesitate, calculate, plan, analyse and strategize. But guess what? I’ve noticed that we tend to see results on the first instance, while on the second instance, not quite. The question is “Why do we swing between these two scenarios from time to time?” Probably we weren’t spurred or motivated enough? Or we were sincerely motivated but just got cold feet?

Imagine how motivated you’ll be, if when you wake up in the morning, it’s to Eric Thomas’s audio, you then finish up a book by Zig Ziglar, and start another by Les Brown. On your way to work, you’re able to squeeze in a few YouTube minutes of Tony Robbins. Your head would figuratively be on fire, and you may even start plotting how to take over the world. I’m serious. Sure you know the power of motivation.

In all these, one thing I’ve noticed is that until your biggest motivation gives you that pep talk, every other motivational speech, be it from Jim Rohn, Nick Vujicic, Dr. Wayne Dyer, or anyone at that, wouldn’t amount to anything. Trust me, nothing would change. We can be so motivated, yet not motivated enough to take action. There a lot of people walking around who are “all motivation, no action”.

The voice of your biggest motivation is like a seal of approval, without which nothing can be done. So who/what is your biggest motivation? Don’t be quick to answer, before you start mentioning Success, Money, Family, and so on. All these is a means to achieving one purpose and that’s the FEELING of JOY attached to the achievement of any the means. We all are beings of emotion. Hence, your biggest motivation is YOU.

If the entire motivational speakers in the world were to come together and spend a day inspiring and motivating you, as long as you’ve not given yourself that “Mental Ginger” (in local parlance) trust me, every time you set foot on the ledge of action, you will not jump. No one else sees that picture you see when you close your eyes. Just you. No one else can give you that most important final push. Just you.

When the chips are down, you are left to either rejoice over opportunities you allowed yourself take, or regret the opportunities you allow yourself miss. No one else feels the full weight of the emotion; Just You. So every day you wake up, never forget to give yourself that pep talk. Give yourself valid reasons why you need to accomplish that feat. In other words, find your “WHY”. The most effective motivational speech ever is the one that comes from inside.

You Are Your Biggest Motivation.


Cheers!



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WHEN SHEPHERDS EAT THE FLOCK

The word “Religion” is mostly used interchangeably with “Faith” or “Belief”, and just so you know, there are approximately 4,200 different kinds of religion in the world. Regardless of the message conveyed, or how awkward the practice of any of those religions may seem, every religion claims to be a means to achieving a unified purpose, and that’s connecting humanity with spirituality.

For the record, the moment you catch me mention any religion in this article, you can stop reading. I’m not here to paint any religion black or white. I just want to iron out a pertinent issue which my (little) exposure has made me realize cuts across every religion. It is just more pronounced in some religions than others. For every “authentic” religious doctrine, there is a counterfeit.

Every religion has their practices and how things should be done. These teachings are taught to everyone of that particular faith, by those who, from generation to generation have dedicated their time and lives to the acquisition of knowledge, and the understanding of the intricacies of the religion. These ones are highly regarded and oftentimes, given leadership positions, hence, one of the most delicate aspects of a human’s life – “BELIEFS” is entrusted into the hands of the “Shepherds”, expected to lead their “Flock” aright.

While some shepherds genuinely care for the spiritual health and progress of their flock, some are just rearing them like livestock, strategically feasting on the simplicity that they have planted amidst those who only wanted to be led aright. I’ve said it before and won’t stop saying it – “We will be stupendously stupid to sit down and suspend our brains, anytime religion is called into question”. There are hungry shepherds everywhere.

A particular religion requires you spend at least 1 hour of the 24 on meditation and deeper spiritual communication. A Shepherd then tells you they’ve seen how busy you are, and if you can pay a certain amount of money, they’ll meditate on your behalf. Another requires you fast and pray, and a shepherd tells you it’ll cost you this much, to do that on your behalf. Seriously? It has come to contractual activities now?

You don’t even want to know how gullible a lot of people have become, thanks to religion (and brain suspension). Husbands giving out their wives to “Holy Shagging”, Parents allowing their children become slaves to spiritual heads, people living day-to-day life exactly according to how they are told to, “Divine Orgies”, people running into insurmountable debts on divine instructions, “Killing for God”, “Holy Suicides”…

I could go on and on, but the fact remains that even though there’s more to spirituality than meets the eye, the application of commonsense and engagement of discretion has never and would never be a sin. Any religion that preaches otherwise is crap. Yes! Quote me anywhere. As a spiritual shepherd, if what gives you joy is to continually feed on your flock; then enjoy. One day the feast will come to an end, and it’ll be the turn of termites to feed on you.

The question I keep asking is “Who’s to blame for spiritual gullibility? The Shepherd or The Flock?”


Cheers!



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WHEN WILL YOU MARRY?

The statement hardly ever sounds like “When will you marry” though… Where I’m from, It sounds more like “Oga when you go marry na?” and trust me, that’s putting it mildly behind those that’ll slap it in your face and blurt out “Aunty go and marry!” *Ghen ghen*. I don’t know about your continent, but in an African home, you don’t need to be a detective to pick up these signs, especially when everyone starts expecting you either to be married by now, or to have a prospective spouse.

But no, you’re there forming strategic planner and keen observer, when you should already be discussing with an event planner and wedding IV designer. Remember you said 2017 is the year. News Flash – After today, we have just 7 Saturdays to go. While you’re still doing “Skiyaa!”, all your mates have gone “Skidiki Pa Pa!” and their wedding ceremonies have gone “Kuku Skruuu Boom!” If you don’t know, now you know. When will you marry? What are you scared of?

I’m just on my way back from a wedding ceremony and this particular wedding is a special one. Let me tell you why. The bride is like a big aunty to me, and trust me when I say the bride isn’t a young lady (I’ll just call her “Aunty”). Aunty’s immediate older brother is married with two grown kids. My big bro, who I went with to the ceremony is married with three kids, and he’s very much younger than Aunty.

In an African home, cases like Aunty’s gets spiritual at some point, as some people would begin to wonder if you’ve been married in the spirit realm and your spirit husband wouldn’t allow men track your GPS in the physical realm. Ladies would relate when I say the pressure can be real sometimes. Civilization has done all it can, but the result has simply been – Ladies are no longer shipped off like cargoes to their betrothed, and are no longer becoming number six, nine, or twelve in the wives’ roaster.

If you’ve read to this point, let me ask you a question – “How soon can you get on a train whose rails lead to eternity?” or simply put “What exactly is the point, rushing with someone into an agreement that lasts a life time?” A wise man once gave a reply to the question “When is the right time to get married?” and he said “When that inner voice vindicates the thought in your head, and the timing tallies with that of your prospective spouse”.

Marriage is not in any way a certification of wholeness. It’s not the pathway to the fulfillment of your destiny, and neither does it in any way guarantee your ‘happily ever after’. If anyone tells you otherwise, stay away from them. You don’t need that kind of pressure. The most popular blogger in Nigeria is a single lady, and every time she achieves a feat, the next question a lot of people raise is “When will you marry?” The heck?! Seriously?!

You mean she has suddenly lost her right to achievements and fulfillment in life just because she’s single? Marriage is an extremely sacred institution, and those pressuring others into it, are part of those responsible for how dilapidated the institution is today. So my dear single brethren, the next time someone asks you “When will you marry?” Just smile and say “When it’s time, you’ll know”. 

End of story.

Cheers!



PS: If for any reason, you’ve decided to remain single, you have every right to your decision. In fact, I hold you in very high esteem. Accept my dab offering.




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STOP BEING HOMOPHOBIC?!

If there’s one thing I can be sure of, it’s that by the end of my Writing Challenge, I’ll have shared some personal info with the world, with which you can boldly say you know me a little bit more than just from afar.

Recent conversations have been centered on a businessman in the beauty and cosmetics industry in Nigeria, since news broke that he has been arrested for coming out of the closet and declaring his sexual orientation. While some are saying the reason for his arrest isn’t related to his sexuality, others are saying the cops were already itching to have him arrested. But that’s not even my problem or concern.

I’m so annoyed because I simply just took a thirty minutes break from work and went to my Twitter timeline to see what’s going on and the news of this bleaching cream merchant littered the whole place. In fact, it was trending. I quickly took off to Instagram and guess what? This same news was all over. Basically, the timeline has suddenly become risky for one go through in peace. Since everyone is dropping their OPINION, here’s mine.

I remember my first encounter with homosexuality – It was my second year in secondary school. I wasn’t sure what spirit had moved round the hostel but boys were on a humping spree. We were about fifteen boys. Two boys started humping each other, another boy joined, then another, and another. I just stood there bemused, trying to wrap my tender brain around what my eyes were feeding it.

It was such a disgusting sight that day. The strong irritation for what I beheld came to me naturally, just as breathing or blinking. It was stomach wrenching, even for “Young Jaybee”.

If you’re a Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender (LGBT), in my opinion, I strongly believe that you're on the pinnacle of confusion, and there's something is wrong somewhere in your head. No offence intended. I’m basically saying you’ve subconsciously undergone some conditioning (maybe an experience) and what you’re exhibiting is the result of a mind that’s been tampered with. There’s always the “You” before the “Gay You” your brain may just have blotted most of those parts out. Sad!

“That’s how I was born” is a statement that toys with my “Patience” button. That’s freaking not how you were born. Snap out of your emotional low self-esteem. And for those saying it’s none of their business what two adults (of the same gender) do in their privacy, just know that the road of morality and sanity of the coming generation, has too many deadly potholes already. Just don’t say anything likewise against Bestiality, Mechanophilia, and the likes. Hypocrites!

Nobody taught me to be homophobic. I witnessed homosexuality way before I knew it even had fancy names and my natural response to it was a volcanic eruption of negative emotions… and if Mother Nature herself can tell me that something is wrong, then who the heck are you? Give yourself in to therapy and mind conditioning. There are real success stories. Stop imprisoning yourself in your mind. Fix up your life.

The earth's force field itself is designed like one giant magnet. Take away the earth’s magnetic field, and the whole planet could be gone in a matter of hours. The day you see a magnet attract it’s like pole, shoot me!

My name is Elijah and I’m proudly homophobic.



Cheers!




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GONE ARE THE DAYS!

“Wake Up Jaybee!”

“But why?... I’m enjoying this trip”

“You’ll soon have to get back to work and you need to quickly compose today’s content”

I don’t like it when the tiny voice in my head guilt-trips me into doing things, especially at times like this when I’m touring “Good Old Town”. So, rather than start thinking of the right thing to write, let me let you in. From here on, you are inside my head for the next couple of minutes. Welcome to Good Old Town. I come here once in a while, so everything is in shape.

If you’re allergic to nostalgia, be warned. Good Old Town is all shades of it. This is strictly for those who grew up in Nigeria. Find your own Nostalgia if you didn’t. Sorry. While you mo… Careful!... That picture is from a time during breakfast, and that’s me dunking my bread inside my teacup. Oh here I am, rushing home from school to meet the start of TV stations’ transmission by 5pm. You remember that song “Our Sweetest Station NTA 2, NTA 2 Channel 5!”

Remember those dope series – Tiny Toon Adventures, The Lion King, Taz-Mania, Rug-Rats, and so on. That’s me watching… what movie was it again? Wasn’t it Terminator, Mrs Doubtfire, Home Alone, Apollo 13, Jurrasic Park, Coming to America, Rocky, or Equalizer 2000… can’t quite remember. Oh, and that’s me cutting paper currencies to spend during “Daddy and Mommy”. I was always the child. Never got to play “Daddy” *side eye*

Well, I preferred it to “Hide and Seek”, “Police and Thief”, “Stay/freeze”, “Obey My Command”, “Who’s in the Garden”, “Form a Big Circle” and “Where did I see” (My bro was always asking where he saw what only him can see). That’s me stretching my hand and singing for a bird to poo on my fingernails, to make them white and fine. I was flying kites in this picture and I played truancy just so I could play with this Red Toy Car. Gone are the days.

The nostalgia of recitations may be too much for you, but at least you remember “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star”, “I see the moon; the moon sees me”, “Wherever you go”, “Biro Master”, and… Wait! Hope you also believed that India beat Nigeria 99-1 in a football match where the ball transformed to various kinds of animals. Santa Claus creeped me the heck out. I still don’t like him or his gifts. I’ll rather watch Chukky, Mount Zion Horror Movies, or Willow.

Big Boy starter pack – 1 Head warmer/Bandana/Durag, 1 Fila face cap, 1 Fubu oversized T-Shirt, 1 baggy Jean or Combat, 1 “Timbolo” (go figure), 1 walkman (with extra audio cassettes). Alternatively, you can manage a Palito radio. But before we became big boys, playing the “200 in 1 brick games” with the overhead light, there was just the “10-10”, “Tinko tinko”, “After Round 1”, and “Who Mess?!”.

That’s me rolling a tyre (I was an expert driver), before there was Table Soccer, Fall the Maize cobs, and Rubber Band Olympics. Oh how I enjoyed Tales by Moonlight. Remember Sprint and Banana chewing gums, Baba Dudu, Short Cake and Coconut biscuits, the choco cubes, Video Cassette rewinders, Kitto and Trekkers sandals and Goody Goody. Christmas period was a time for new shoes and clothes, but looking back now, you can’t but exclaim “Gone are the days!”




Mature Minds Talk.
30DaysWritingChallenge, Library
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TO MY WOMAN CRUSH WEDNESDAY

Dear Woman Crush Wednesday,

This an open letter to you, my crush. I don’t know how this Woman Crush Wednesday trend started, but I couldn’t think of a better day to let the world know about you, other than today. I’ve secretly crushed on you but it’s time to come out of my hiding. It’s time to remove the blindfold from the eyes of the world and let it see what I’ve seen in you for a really long time. It’s time to let the world see you for who you really are.

You are that lady… No, I mean that beauty from a broken home, living the consequences of actions you took no part in. Trying to understand why there’s so much hate where love is supposed to abound. The frustration outweighs the confusion; I know. You are that beauty who got sexually abused by that animal wearing a man’s skin. I understand it’s lived with you ever since. I’ll gladly carry the weight on my shoulders if I could.  I can imagine the hurt the memory brings.

You are that beauty suffering a terminal disease, a cross you weren’t asked if you’d like to bear. It hurts me to see you in pain when the monster rears its ugly head but the least I can do is spread roses on your bed. You are that beauty who’s been left to raise that child all alone, your only crime being that you loved and trusted that coward with everything, even your soul. You are that beauty battling PMS, and no one seems to understand exactly how you feel.

You’re that beauty who had your innocence defiled and have been told not to say a word. I can imagine the emotional damage. You are that beauty, who had to drop out of college, for issues beyond you. You are that beauty labelled anti-social just because the world neither understands you, nor knows what’s going on in your head. You are that beauty shuttling between raising four kids and keeping two jobs.

You are that beauty who continually deprives herself, just so you can support your family. That beauty in an abusive relationship who still holds on to the deep meaning of true love. You are that beauty with an eating disorder, a hormonal imbalance, being body shamed by ignorant folks. You are that beauty who continuously hustles, chasing your dreams, pushing through life’s obstacles without waiting for any knight in shining armor.

You are my Woman Crush Wednesday. You should know that you are beautiful just the way you are. Even if the world keeps throwing pain, anger, depression, low self-esteem, abuse, and the likes at you, I want you to know that it’s just the refining process. Rise my love! Just like a Phoenix from the Ashes, rise! Your scars don’t define you. They are stamps to your beauty.

Dust your robe and straighten your crown my Queen. The whole world is your subject. You are resplendent. You are a masterpiece. You are a star. You are unique. You are limitless. You don’t have to change a thing. You’re wonderfully and perfectly made. To every lady… No, I mean beauty all over the world, remember – Your experience don’t define you.


So walk with your majestic aura of royalty. My sweet Woman Crush Wednesday.

Lots of Love,

Jaybee.




Mature Minds Talk
30DaysWritingChallenge, Library
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GHOST THROUGH THE BLOCK

It’s the seventh day of my Write Time Challenge. I’ve been out all day and I just came back in, about an hour or so ago. I promised spontaneity during this 30 Days “Write Time Challenge” and I’m not going to eat my words. For reiteration sake, everything you read within the period of my “Write Time Challenge” was written not just on that same day, but less than two hours before you read it. Someone saw me talk about spontaneity and told me to not play on people’s intelligence. Funny. I won’t, just as I won’t want people to play on my integrity.

I digress.

So I’m sitting here, staring at my screen, thinking of what to write and I just seem unable to pick any of the various topics in my head screaming “Pick Me! Pick Me!”… I’ve written long enough to smell Writer’s Block from a mile away. I immediately updated my WhatsApp status to say I might just be walking on the thin rope of Writer’s Block. So, goodbye guys, I don’t have anything to talk about today. Hopefully, I’ll be back tomorrow with good news.

Oh! But before you go, if you’re a writer, let me dedicate this to you and just quickly give you 10 tips to overcome the much dreaded Writer’s Block. It’s frustrating; I know. But once you master it, you’ll simply just ghost through the block.

1. Don’t Panic – The fastest way many writers shoot themselves in the foot is to panic at the appearance of the “Block”. Calm down and smile. It’s like a moving cloud. It’ll soon be gone.

2. Listen to Music – You might not know the effect of music on your brain but listening to music can really help ghost you through the block. I deploy this technique quite well.

3. Play Games – Yup! It could be board games, puzzles, arcades, or even video games. You’ll be taking a break while still keeping your brain stimulated. I either play chess, scrabble or adventure video games. I’m actually about to play.

4. Read – Sometimes, your brain doesn’t feel like pouring out. It’ll prefer taking in. Reading is a widely used technique in overcoming Writer’s Block. Read a book, a blog post, newspaper column, whatever! Just read.

5. Engage in a Conversation – Engage people in conversations. Call up a friend or text them. Texting works for me personally, ‘cos I’m writing but my brain isn’t recognizing it as that (yet).

6. Jot Ideas – If you’re working on a script, a book, or so, then jot ideas. Don’t try to expand on them. Just jot. Let your mind roam free but capture your thoughts while it wanders. You just might surprise yourself.

7. Wait for your Zone – I personally write better in the morning than any other time of the day. Study your own time and wait for your zone. You’ll get a better flow then, than any other time.

8. Sleep – Your brain might just be rest deprived. It might not even be a block. If you check and you haven’t slept well in a couple of days, get your butt up and shut your eyes.

9. Utilize Distractions – Check what’s happening on the timeline, watch TV for a bit, play with your pet, just distract yourself a bit. (Disclaimer: Many people recommend avoiding distractions, but the opposite works for me.)

10. Write – This is the silver bullet. The grenade and EMP. If you’ve tried all you can and you’re still feeling stuck, WRITE! Just freestyle. That’s what I did up there and at this point, you’ve just read 600 words. How’s that for Writer’s Block.

Hope this helps.


Cheers!




Mature Minds Talk
30DaysWritingChallenge, Library
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