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Prompt: What’s in a name?
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Prompt: A happy story in three words
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G.L.i.B-bed: A thousand splendid suns
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In my own company
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August in review: Knackered
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Sibling speak
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I pledge to Nigeria my country, I think
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A prick in the bubble of fun
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G.L.i.B – bed: Fine Boys
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G.L.i.B-bed: A week with Chuma Nwokolo Jnr

A prick in the bubble of fun

Forgive me if my posts are far and few in between this month. And when they do appear are either focused on children – who happen to be front, back and centre of my vision right now – or the book I have just barely managed to finish. These days two things occupy my time – children and their needs. And more of both. So, bear with me a while; the holidays would be over soon and trust me, my whoop of delight will resound louder than anyone else’s. Now to the thrust of this post. Gone were the bubbly, happy – go – lucky trio who marched purposefully into the hospital few hours earlier. A solemn trio aptly describes the children who emerge from the clinic’s swinging doors, numbed by pain, shocked silent at the turn of events the fourth child among them was In the middle of endless holiday fun, one of them (my niece) broke out in bright red, itchy rash. On her arms. Her legs. Spread on her back. Sprinkled across her chest and belly. Her smooth, light – coloured skin was suddenly riddled with them as though they expressed some sort of rage. Measles? Chicken[…]

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G.L.i.B – bed: Fine Boys

  The night I finished Eghosa Imasuen’s Fine Boys, I dreamt of the University of Benin, some familiar haunts of mine in Benin City, and friends whom I hung out with in my teenage years. It goes to show the depth of effect the book had on me. Even I didn’t realize it until after the dream. With the Warri- Benin axis as its central locations, Fine Boys can be likened to a coming – of – age story about its protagonist, Ewaen, and his band of friends. From his home life in Warri to his school living once admitted into the University. Nigerian universities are a jungle to live in while learning. Appalling but true. Fine Boys depicted the country’s higher institutions, using the University of Benin as a typical example, in all their unhealthy, and unpalatable glory. It also relieved the red sand city of Benin and my Alma Mata every time Ewaen went back to school. Ekosodin. Osasogie. I lived and made memories in these places. Medical Hostel, main café – a stone throw from each other. Hall one, Hall two and the car park separating both were once comforting, welcoming sights at a point in my[…]

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G.L.i.B-bed: A week with Chuma Nwokolo Jnr

There’s no art to find the mind’s construction in the face. Ironically, I hadn’t set my eyes on Chuma Nwokolo Jnr when I happened upon some scribblings of his on Facebook last year. Using photos taken from different activities (panel discussions, informal gatherings, etc) of the recently concluded Ake LitFest, he generated seemingly appropriate dialogue for each. Dialogue which resulted in hilarious, uncivilized, out-of-control guffaws. More than enough to google the creator and find out about him. Nothing prepares you for the unassuming, gentle-looking, friendly visage which confronts you in all his images. It is certainly not what you’d expect from one who has honed the comedic writing style to seamless perfection. His face gives nothing away; you never see it coming. The first book I read, Diary of a Dead Nigerian, is a short one. A short read. But one I’m certainly not wistful about. Divided into three parts – one for each protagonist – it is an amusing tale of three men, a father and his two sons. Chuma Nwokolo beautifully captures the events preceding their deaths and encompassing their lives as well. The choice of words, their actions and streams of consciousness set each character apart and[…]

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