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Seven days of selfies
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Emails to mum
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NaNoWriMo 2019
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What I read in November
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September & October Reads
6
Loving, Every Minute
7
His mother’s son
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Can you stop the rain?
9
I like me better when I’m with you
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Thinking about your love

Seven days of selfies

A few months ago, I ran into Moses at The Palms. By the food section in Shoprite, an unrecognisable, smallish, dark-skinned man with no hair on his scalp or face, approached me bearing a huge smile. Only someone confident of his knowledge of another could release a grin that enormous.

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Emails to mum

Author’s note: For some reason, oniovo, I couldn’t get this character out of my head. He kept running around in my mind like a real person, and l looked out for him in Lagos traffic! So I gave him a few more paragraphs, hoping to write him out of my consciousness. It worked. Not completely though. He’s still there. Lurking in a corner, smirking at me. However, this is a start. If, unlike me, you’re done with these two and their story please let me know. I’ll spare you this epilogue until I post new material . If not, I hope you enjoy reading (as much as I did writing) for the next 12 days. Emails to mum 1.She calls me Edosa, mum. The name you gave me. Sometimes negligently. Often intentionally. And it makes me mushy in her arms. I can catch the stars out of the sky for her. Stop the rain from falling once she mentions my name that way. Do you recall meeting her? We visited you last month. For a whole week. The week of my birthday. Esohe. She spent each day of it by your side, talking to you, taking selfies and reporting my antics to you. How I distracted her at the meeting where we met at first instance. Rushed her into the relationship which we both can’t seem to do without now. As I observed her with you, it produced the idea for these mails, and Adesuwa has graciously committed to reading them out to you for the next one year only. Thank you, Ade! They like Esohe – Ade & Ivie. I don’t know how I’d have reacted if they didn’t. Ade has always been protective of me; so her initial reservation, hesitation towards Esohe did not come as a surprise. Ivie, on the other hand, became friends with her immediately. Happy 60th birthday, mum! I understand it was a quiet celebration since you were mostly unaware of much of the goings-on. Nevertheless, I speak for all of us when I say we are all grateful you saw your diamond year.”more

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NaNoWriMo 2019

First thought: my worst ever. And to think I began prepping for this year’s writeathon from the second week of October. I completed a new story, sent it off and took a break from my Sunday routine to rest, recuperate and be in the zone for NaNoWriMo. By the end of October, I could be found outlining scenes for the plot I planned to focus on come November. Every day of this month would be spent either fleshing out previously outlined scenes or mapping outlines for subsequent scenes. Outline. Flesh out. Repeat. Every day in November. Until I finished the story which I began three years ago on my first NaNoWriMo run. In hindsight: it’s not all abysmal. Admittedly, the story in focus barely got my attention. I must have scribbled about 1,500 words or less about it. But 7,000+ words went to a totally different story, diary style, which had been swirling in my mind since september. Even jotted down a rough outline of it. Another 2,000 words each made up two different short stories which came out of nowhere (the inner recesses of my mind, perhaps). About 1,500 words each for three different episodes, of a series I wrote last year and planned to continue in the new year, also featured this month. In total, I wrote something in the neighbourhood of 17, 000 words, most of which weren’t about the targetted story for NaNoWriMo. Barely reaching the halfway mark of the required 50, 000 words. But feeling great with myself regardless. It’s the most I’ve ever written in a space of a month, and, notably, during, NaNoWriMo. An indication of my writing growth in the last 72 months. When I began NaNoWriMo three years ago, I struggled to fill out three pages, let alone write 1,660 words daily. I wasn’t even writing daily at the time. Another struggle I hoped to conquer as I attempted the writeathon for the first time. Looking back now, I am a far cry from the writer I used to be. My laurels include nailing the daily writing routine to a T;”more

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September & October Reads

With this, I was formally introduced to the Jack Reacher series. I wasn’t prepared to read the entire 500+ pages in one weekend, admitting that Lee Child has caught my attention in ways I didn’t expect him to. I enjoyed this book from start to finish. However, I hesitate to be drawn into the world of Jack Reacher and join millions all over reading and searching for the next book. Perhaps I might change my mind. Perhaps.

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His mother’s son

He sighed. “Jennifer, mother hen, is clearly the oldest of you lot; she’s about 36 maybe younger.” He began. “Alero is the baby of the group; I’ll put her age at 29 or 30. She can’t be more than 31. You are smack in the middle of the trio. Give or take, you’re between 33 and 35 years. But you look 27.” He continued confidently. “Anyway, I don’t care how old you are. You’re definitely not as old as I am and you’ve had a child already, so getting the next shouldn’t be a problem. I also believe in the options of science and the miracle of God. We are sorted as it is.” He concluded.

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I like me better when I’m with you

“We all have a past – whether it returns to haunt us or not. Dealing with it with the people in the present helps to keep it firmly where it belongs – in the past. “He shook his head. “And I told you not to dismiss me again, Esohe. Do you remember? After my first meeting with Folarin? I knew what I was getting into when I got involved with you. I like my cases dismissed; not me. But no, you went right ahead to not only dismiss me but also break up with me when it mattered most. Was I supposed to be in your life just for the good times? The outings? The fun? Uh, Esohe?”

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Thinking about your love

For wia I wan leave you?” Her friend sounded pissed; her voice becoming closer, stronger. “If Jeje nor go tell you, I go tell you! How you go do dat kain tin? Let dat bastard Folarin make you troway a whol’ Eddie for corner? Eh? Our Eddie!” She seethed. “You get luck say I nor dey town when you try dat nonsense! I for go fin’ Folarin, bus’ bottle for im head. Cari the remainin’ con bus’ for your own.”

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