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From a – z
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Back to school
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A friend in need…
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G.L.i.B – bed: In less than 24hours
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A dish called me
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No school? No problem.
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Adventures in school run
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Drinks with friends
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Wherever I lay my hat
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Fly on the wall

From a – z

All Didi wanted was some breakfast. Bread, mildly toasted and still soft. Covered with garlic dressing and diced boiled eggs. Divided up into quaint triangles. Eaten with chilled mango juice and some peace. Fat chance! Grr, her little son announces his arrival. Hi mum, his sister is a little more audible. Is that a sandwich? Just go and play, Didi groaned inwardly. Knowing her plans would come to naught with these two around. Let’s go, her son utters suddenly. Moving away and pulling his sister along. Now they’re at the door, opening it. Only when they disappear behind it, does she release a sigh. Peace, pure peace, descends. Quiet accompanied it too. Relishing the unexpected atmosphere, she raised her sandwich to her lips. Sipped deeply from her glass. Take a bite; treasure the moment; take her time. Uninterrupted finally, her earlier plans began to take shape. Victory! Wary, though, that it could change in an instant. Xeroxing the moment of a few seconds ago. You never know with those young ‘uns. Zipping, zooming in and out at will.

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Back to school

When I began my master’s program, I was excited at the prospect. Half way through, I was cursing the fact that I walked into the uber stressful situation with my eyes open. The excitement was gone, firmly replaced by the reality of classes, lecturers, assignments, late nights, etc all combined with a full – time job and planning for my wedding. I couldn’t wait to complete the darn thing! Who would have thought, after that experience and a decade later, I wouldn’t be averse to going back to school for more studies?! While it’s still in the just-a-thought stage, it’s something worth considering deeply. What would I focus on if I go back for further studies? Interestingly I’ve dabbled in various subjects that I’d prefer not to venture into once more. There was the one year stint in music with hopes to become a maestro on the keyboard, and the very brief and exciting time in Francais classes. Three months learning Spanish was equally magnifico. But languages are a  part of me, I never stop practicing. Fashion design featured many moons ago and how could I forget that period of drama classes and my dream to become a stage director? Writing[…]

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A friend in need…

My closest friend is, and has been for the last decade, my beau. The truth of this statement dawned on me immediately after I saw it written in black and white. Marry your friend, is the advice most people get. No one said anything about that friendship evolving into best friends. Is this in anyway related to our proximity to each other? Sharing the same physical space, air and being in each other’s faces every day, all day? I doubt it. It is likely there are couples out there in the same conditions without experiencing any camaraderie or closeness. Whoever said marry your friend was dead right, unlike the person who alluding sleeping soundly to a baby’s snooze time. Either s/he didn’t think it through or was the yet to have a baby to test the claim. My beau was not only my friend before we exchanged vows; he was also one of my best cheerleaders. My reality check. My constant push to become a better me in every aspect of life. My sounding board. My listening ear. My encyclopedia. The kind of friend I obviously required at the beginning of evolving roles in life – wife, mum. And the[…]

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G.L.i.B – bed: In less than 24hours

Before launching into the reason for this post, here’s something I’d like to give recognition to – Smooth FM 98.1 Radio Station, Lagos, Nigeria. I listen to it every week day at 7.30am for its new and the analysts who dissect them. On Saturdays at 10am, I’m back there again for the hour – long book review program. It features African books and authors, promoting literature from the vast continent. To review any of the selected book could be the author, the publisher or guest(s) who are bookaholics and have read it. As a book person myself, this program is right up my alley and sets the tone for my weekend. I discovered it, by chance, some time last year, and have been a faithful fan since. Enjoying the reviews and brief glimpses into different books, increasing my knowledge of African writing and the authors responsible for its growing emergence and global recognition, while adding, weekly, to my reading list. In fact, the shift to reading more fiction this year (& more African authors too) was influenced by the program. Easy Motion Tourist by Leye Adenle, the novel I finished in less than 24 hours two days ago, had the[…]

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A dish called me

Everything I love is killing me, sang Alan Jackson many years ago. This tune came to mind as I ticked off some of my food – related guilty pleasures – pancakes, croissants, red velvet cake, apple pie, alcohol- infused ice cream, Spanish flan – while contemplating today’s prompt. If a restaurant were to name something after me, what would it be? Most definitely one of my guilty pleasures, I think instantly. See why Alan Jackson’s song popped up? They are all desserts. Insanely sweet too. And while they may not be killing me, they are certainly not good for me when not indulged in moderation. A concept truly alien to me when any of them is staring me in the face – homemade or bought from the confectioner’s. For instance, I always purchase a box of croissants – plain, cholate, chees, almond, cinnamon, etc – when I want to eat some. One or three will never do. Imagine all that dough and sweetness. Pancakes, homemade and seasoned to my own slightly sugary perfection, appear as they do in internet images – a high stack of flat, fluffy goodness. Oh help! Between these two would the restaurant find a fitting namesake[…]

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No school? No problem.

The long vacation. That’s what we called it back then. Almost three months of no school, no homework, no early rising. Pure, unadulterated fun. Now it is referred to as the Summer Holidays. In Nigeria?! Where half of the year the sun’s blazing down blisteringly and during the ‘Summer Holidays’, it’s wet, wet, wet which it right about now and has been for a while. And like some parents, I used to dread the advent of the school holidays. Long ones. Short ones. They were all the same to me – no school for the children. No more peace in the house. How do I engage these ever – active, ever- active, no – siesta little humans while ensuring I had time to work, to think, to plan, to live…? Going to school, I believe, is not only a place where they learn but also another safe area to play, meet friends, eat and indulge in peer activities. Another definition of school fees is a stipend paid to keep my children away from me while I work and sort out life’s issues…and breath too in their absence. Don’t get me wrong. I love my little recruits and want them around[…]

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Adventures in school run

Another academic year came to an end last week. I’m not sure if I should be relieved or upset. Would I miss the daily movement that is school run, as well as everything else surrounding it? While it’s not a chore I dislike, I certainly do not eagerly look forward to carrying it out either.  The morning ride fits right into my schedule of early rising and workout routine. In fact, before I started driving the children to school, the return trip was a form of exercise; a brisk 15 – 20 minute walk. Not anymore though. Shaun T. has replaced that with a more , vigorous, all – encompassing one. I suppose I’m pondering about this at this particular time because looming ahead is, at least , an eight-week hiatus from daily mornings and afternoons school runs. The long holidays are here again , and the children are understandably ecstatic. School has suddenly become a distant memory until whenever. Nevertheless, the school run routine will always constitute part of the school year. This was no different, bringing adventures and fun along.           Too many screens, not enough time With all the screens available to children[…]

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Drinks with friends

Who was going to be there again? Femi. Anthony. Timi. Ochuko. Olu. He ran the list through his mind, then sighed. Already half – dressed in his under shirt and boxers, he lowered his body onto the bed behind him. His brown pair of moccasins waiting by the edge of it. Did he want to spend the night listening to Femi yap endlessly about his various trips around the globe? Or Ochuko’s subtle and not – so subtle display of his wealth? What about Anthony and his uncontrollable drinking habit, and the lousy talk that results from it? Dare rose from the bed and continued dressing up again. As long as Olu was around, it wouldn’t be night of just drinks, demonstrative loud talk and raucous laughter. Of all his friends, time in Olu’s presence always made him better than before. Although his Mr. Know -It – All attitude could rub his friends the wrong way. But hadn’t he proved himself right time and again? For Olu’s wisdom, he was willing to endure the rest of his pals during a Friday night out. Besides, he needed the de – stressing the time would offer; it had been a hectic work week.[…]

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Wherever I lay my hat

…is not my home. Mya mentally completed the song that had been playing non – stop in her head for the last couple of days, collapsing into the armchair nearest the front door. For the past 12 days, she had lived like a fugitive and out of her not-so-handy suitcase. All on the whim of her best friend, Nena, who wanted to experience the gypsy lifestyle, no matter how short -lived. And Mya had been dragged into her fantasy. Nena was a good friend with equally good intentions but this…hobo trip was not Mya’s cup of tea. Looking around her small, stuffed and comfortable flat, she had never been so glad to see it, be in it and call it home. Piled with all her belongings. Stuffed with memorable moments. It was a definite location; an address attached to it and so was her heart – anchored deep within it.  A haven after everything every day threw at her. Especially this recent trip. Their first stop was at Ibadan for two days. Then one night each in Ekiti, Benin and Asaba. The wet weather of Warri reminded her of the year she spent at Delta State University. Portharcourt hadn’t look so different from[…]

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