Memories and a scent

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I’d give anything to go back to the 28th of December and tell you not to go on that journey. I guess waking up everyday and pretending to be happy is all you’ve left your baby sister with. Your teasing, your laughter, your scolding, your love. And all you ever asked was that i make you pancakes and try to leave my clothes that you’d scatter, in a mess for a whole day to prove that I didn’t have OCD.

On the 25th of December, you sat on my bed, we ate, you took movies and we made plans for the 31st. i didn’t even see you off because hey, we never say goodbye, and I was supposed to stop over at the house the day after but I didn’t. Now you’ve gone and left a void inside me. The universe sure deals us shockers.

I miss you.

Nothing Short of a Miracle

So last night, I was tryna study for a rumored test by 8am this morning. Was up till like 2am n suddenly, my eyes grew heavy. Turned off the lights, set my alarm for 4:30am and went to bed.

The university of Abuja is located in Gwagwalada, Abuja. (Gwags) and the place is HOT! So I don’t sleep clothed. Did I mention I live by myself? I do. And until the early hours of this morning, I’d never had cause to wish I didn’t. I slept in only underwear, windows open, curtains drawn. Feeling safe because all my neighbors were around. I’m the only girl in the compound so I always feel covered when them boys are around. My voltrons I call them. Lol!
Anyways! I fell asleep and not too long after, a sound woke me up. The sound of breaking concrete and bending metal. Robbers. I’m not sure how I got two layers of clothing on as fast as I did, but I did. They were right beside my window, breaking the wall into my neighbors flat. I heard them talking, one of them asking if they should do the houses one by one or at thesame time. Then they started threatening my neighbor. I still thought it was a joke yea, cuz some robbers carry sticks. These niggas had big ass guns! *scuse meh* but them guns were huge mehn! I stood for a while, then adrenaline rush kicked in. Lol! I tore my blackberry apart. Dumped one part inside my garri storage container, another inside my rice bag and I flung d charger, cord n other stuff In the sink, underneath a wide tray. My laptop too went somewhere there. Then I came back out, sat on my chair *like a bawse \(‾^‾)/ * and faced d window. Waiting for them to come to me. *smug*
Next couple of minutes passed in a blur. One moment the guys r walkin up n down, past my OPEN windows! Like they can’t see them. And then next thing, my neighbors start to shout and them niggas open fire. I heard my friend shouting… “I’m dead… I’m dead”. One second I was panicking (silently of course) and the next I was wheezing. My inhaler was staring at me but I couldn’t see it. That one was another personal scene I shallant share! (Yes I said shallant. Bite me) oh, he wasn’t dead. Js grazed.

In all this time, I found myself reciting psalm 91… Over and over in my head. Nothing stopped those people from entering my house. but God. He blinded them. No other explanation. They coulda pulled out my security bars just as easy or broken my wall too. But they walked past. Sigh… God protects mehn! This was a miracle. Oh yea! Did I mention that about 15minutes after they’d had their fun and left awon olopa Showed up? And them silly niggaz were now harassing the very people that were robbed. Smh. Our Nigerian police force needs major reform mehn! How can u cock ur rifle at the victim and tell him to come out or else? Crazy! Me, I sha did not step out of my house until it was bright outside.
I’m back home. I think I’d rather js shuttle cuz the thought of what coulda happened to me today ehnn… Freaking me out majorly.
So yea! Dass my testimony right there. Hallelujah somebodeh! I’m grateful to God forever and always mayne. Cuz without him, well, I for no de type this post with me brackbelly yanna!
\(‾^‾)/

The Rot.

I sat on the Sofa in my living room, staring at my distended stomach and smiling at the thought of becoming a mother in less than four months. Finally, I was getting what I’d prayed for so long.

I raised my head and looked at the picture on the wall, the picture of my sister. I’m staring at it and I’m wondering where the sweet person I grew up with had gone, wondering what had happened to her that turned her into such a wicked being. She was wanted by the police for human trafficking. I’d heard it on the news three days before and since then, all efforts to get in touch with her had been unsuccessful. Even papa had no clue as to where she was or how she’d gotten roped in all this. It broke our hearts.

There was a knock on the door, I got up and wobbled towards it smiling to myself at the thought of how I looked. I opened the door and they entered without being asked to. 3men and 2 women, all armed, like they were going to arrest a bunch of armed robbers or something. They were from the Police Force. One of the women asked me where my sister was. I answered that I did not know. She said they needed to check the house and proceeded to ransack the place, like the full grown woman they were looking for was a grain of wheat. When they were satisfied that she wasn’t hiding in any of th drinking water bottles, they asked me to follow them to the station to write a statement. I tried to resist but one of the women told me if I didn’t she would be forced to use some other means I would not like. My going with them was not negotiable. I did not have a choice.

We got to the station and I wrote my statement. I asked if that was all and one of the officers there looked at me like I was crazy, laughed and said I would be detained until my sister was either found or turned herself in,in my place. It all felt very unreal and I wasn’t sure what to say or how to react. I was allowed one call. I called papa. Stripped of my rings and wrist watch, I wasn’t shoved behind a counter. I was put into a room, like a condemned criminal. Tiny and grimy, with 14 other women in it, this was to become my home for only heaven knew how long. I could feel by babies move inside of me and I forced myself to stay calm. Panic might hurt them. I had to stay calm.

Today, I hold my babies in my arms and tears pour down my face. The wrapper I’d come into the station with is all I still have on my back, now torn in different places. My twins were born prematurely but none would get us any help. We sit in a cell for a crime we did not commit. My father, in an attempt bail me out was arrested as well and detained. We are both prisoners now. For that which another is guilty of. I’m scared, I do not understand why this is happening to me. I do not know why the people who have been selected to protect us from harm are the very ones who brutalize us so. My heart fears for my babies. They must not die. My babies must not die.

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The injustice faced by Nigerians everyday at the hands of Law enforcement officers is nauseating. This act of arresting a family member for the crime of another should be made punishable in itself! Hard to believe it has actually been going on for so long and nothing has been done. The cretins that occupy leadership positions and talk term elongation try to convince everyone with written speeches, read to the public by over fed persons, ignoring major issues and telling everyone how “fit for the job” their candidates are.

Such a shame, that supposed elders have sold their souls so cheaply. Why does stability elude us? There are questions and everyone has their resolution theories… But somehow, most forget them once power comes to rest in their palm. Heartbreaking.

The Invasion

Friday night.
The girls had gone club hopping. They’d party all weekend but I’d be home. Always the introvert.
The house was a little large, we all had individual bedrooms but always slept in whoever’s room the gist ended at night, which was hardly ever My bedroom cuz I was a little… Peevish, about messes and all and the girls cared little for my attention to such details as gum wraps, food packs and and empty juice bottles.

Had some left over pasta and got into bed. It’d been a long day at work.I drifted off not too long after. Felt like just minutes later when some strange sound woke me… Someone breathing against my ear… Incubus? My eyes were shut but I could tell that the lights were on. I thought demons were scared of light? And then it spoke. “Open your eyes. I know u’re awake”. -okay! Newsflash babe, this was no incubus- I acted like I didn’t hear it, maybe if he thought I was asleep he’d take whatever he wanted and leave… I was wrong. He opened my eyes, with the hardest smack on my cheek I’d ever been dealt… It burned through my flesh and into my gums… I tasted blood.

I opened my eyes and tried to look at my soon to be assailant, then I saw the other two, standing behind him, faces harder than any I’d ever seen. How did they get in? Why did I not hear them? What did they want? I sat up, on my bed and started to plead… “Please, I don’t have much. Just take whatever you want and go. I won’t scream I promise”. I told them where everything was with my head bowed. I remembered it was unsafe to look at the faces of unmasked robbers.
He laughed long and hard, then signaled to the two behind him. They walked up to the bed, I’m not sure now, whether they were strong, or I weighed very little, cuz I was on the floor in an instant. I knew what was happening but I’d hoped this was some kinda sick joke and the girls would come out laughing at how horrified I looked… That did not happen.

One of them walked up behind me and held my shoulders down while the other was instructed to stand and hold the gun, pointed at me. I shut my eyes cuz I ddnt wanto see but another searing slap opened em… I’d started crying by this time and begging. I think my fear excited him… He pulled all my clothing off and unbuckled his belt… His package was nothing like I’d ever seen. Big, black and ugly. I looked at his face and tried to squirm… He kicked with his boot soo hard, those hard Timberlands… I started trying to fight and he hit. From every angle he could, kicked and slapped me until I was too weak to fight.
I lay there, still. Hoping they’d think me dead. The one standing back started to ask their boss if he was sure I was alive but he was silenced. The other holding my shoulders seemed rather… Amused by it all. His hands were everywhere, touching me, spreading… Kissing… Every part of me… The bile in my throat was so thick I thought I’d choke. Disgust and revulsion caused goosebumps to sread out all over my body, and then I felt it. His thing, being pushed inside of me… The pain worse than anything I’d ever experienced. He crashed into my body over and over, and then he began to whimper, or was it wheeze? He grunted, some pig-like sound, and then rolled off me.
He smiled, told the others to pack up the things… And just like that, just as they had come, they were gone…

I got up and locked my room door, walked into the bathroom. Mind, numb. Body, in pain. Eyes, blood red and dry. Was I just raped?? Yes. I’d read about it, watched movies, heard stories, and now, I was the victim of it. Who would I tell? No one, well, no one yet. There was no question about it. I would not have the world refer to me as “Annie that was raped” no. I would have none of it. It was over. I’d be fine. Talking about it really wouldn’t change anything. A thousand thoughts filled and fought for first place in my head. I looked at the time, 4:15am… I’d go to the clinic and get checked later in the morning. I’d find a story to tell the girls about the robbery, but I’d say I was out. I refuse to be looked at with eyes of pity. No one would ever know. Not even the girls… Especially, not the girls.

DOUBLE EDGED TRUST

They’ve been there through it all, the turbulent times and the almost steady times. being a young person sure has its curse. Now they may understand to a certain extent the way you think, and therefore appoint themselves judges over everything you speak. No one knows anyone else that well. They need to know this.

A past is called a past for a reason. It is who a person was, not who they are. Worse it is when they throw rotten tomatoes at you in the market place, and sing to the world stories of the days when you lived wrong, these people, your persecutors, your confidants, your friends. The world believes them and soaks up their venom, refusing to let that dead character rest in peace. Continuously, they dig up the body, and stink up the place with the decay of the corpse.

A thing meant to hurt just one, spreads like wild fire and consumes the whole. Now when the time is passed, and wisdom has prevailed, they begin to have regrets and wishes, wondering why they hadn’t held their tongues. But too late it is, for the stink has caused many to stick their noses in the air, though some know not why they do,for years have passed and the stink should be gone.

What is it really, the reason for your cynicism and ridicule? has this person stopped you from moving on? Has the fact that they have chosen to live a good life stopped you from living yours? why do you want them to shove their opinions under the ground but expect them and everyone else to accept yours as law?

Why are you so bitter? you turn the trust they had in you into a sword, poisoned, and stab them with it! As they double over from the pain, you still are unsatisfied, so u push it farther in and twist so the pain is magnified… Why? Have you forgotten the feeling of being forgiven? the peace and the joy that comes after? why do you not extend this then? why do you choose to use what you have been entrusted with as a means to drag a person down?

do you not care, that this throws you in bad light? you should.No one says you must be a part of the new life they have chosen. They would cut you loose if you so wish. So why not cut everyone and yourself, some slack and just let them be? If you feel they aren’t worth your time or friendship then take it elsewhere, there are lonely people in the world who need companionship. No one is called to everyone. You will be rejected in some places too. Think of how you would want to always be treated and treat others as such. Don’t wait until a person is dead and you cannot show them care before you decide to do the right thing. It’d be too late then. watch what you say. words don’t die. they sink into the heart of the receiver and germinate.

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i have been wrong a lot too, and everyday i try to be better. It’s a process that’s hard and sometimes quite annoying. people say things and you have quick replies at the tip of your tongue but you choose to let it slide. sometimes, you slip and let them have a piece of your mind. the feeling of triumph lasts but a second. and its back to square one. Instead of staying focused on the person i was, walk with me into my present and work on yourself as well. An occasional correction should not  make you feel the person sees themselves as superior to you. Or self righteous, or judgmental. Not everyone means you harm. Learn to let go of bitterness. 🙂 

Day 6- 30 Interesting Facts About Qama

This is like one of those annoying assignments! I’m supposed to ask a couple of friends and put up but I’m not THAT interesting so I’ll just write 30facts about me.
Here goes!

1. Christian
2. LOVE ankara (not akara)
3. 5ft7inches tall
4. Very sensitive.
5. Last child. (5older siblings)
6. Thoroughly enjoy cooking
7. If its hot, milo. If its cold, Fanta/chapman.
8. I do not have OCD. 😐 But can’t stand clutter.
9. Scared of the dark.
10. Hydrophobic.
11. Love plantain, pastries and pasta!
12. Easily emotionally attached.
13. When I believe a person doesn’t hv my best interests at heart, I lose all feeling for them and its hard to regain no matter how dear they were.
14. I cry when I’m either very happy or very very sad.
15. Rather outspoken.
16. Professional photographer in the making.
17. The future face of event planning and interior decoration.
18. Love to read n write
19. Take myself too seriously
20. Great sense of humor (even I know this!) 😀
21. I’m attracted to guys with diamond cut diction.
22. Interested in Human Rights Protection
23. Love hard
24. Colors: brown best. sea green and blue.
25. I’d rather silver or white gold to yellow gold.
26. My forehead is rather wide. 😀
27. I’m edo/yoruba.
28. My nose tells tales of some ancestral connection to Kunta Kinte.
29. I love shoes!
30. my first word was ‘uyayyi’. turns out, it has a meaning! 😀

NO SEX HERE PLEASE.

I APOLOGIZE IN ADVANCE FOR THIS IS STRICTLY A RANT!!!!

HOW!!! WHY!!! WOULD ANYBODY TELL ME THE ONLY WAY TO SHOW LOVE IS BY HAVING SEX WITH THE GIRL HE ‘LOVES’???  (inhales… exhales…zen)

someone said to me today, after a very long conversation on how much he’s in love with me (aww??) and how i give his life all the meaning it has (we’ve run into each other twice and his suggestions on places to ‘sit and talk’ always make me wanto weep for myself. he needs to read @bulejr’s date days.mchewwww) and that only way he’ll believe i love him is if i sleep with him??? excuse me??!!!!! first of all, how did we get here?? my monosyllabic responses must have been quite lengthy … i duuno. how do u misinterprete ‘no’ and ‘no’ and ‘no’??? i was not going to even honor you with a ‘hangout’, which i’d been stating quite emphatically for weeeekkkksssssss IS YOUR BRAIN ONNA SABBATICAL??? (inhales… exhales… 🙂 )

anyways, im just amazed at the kind of lies some guys tell girls. it makes my skin crawl to think this being has actually gotten girls to bed him (cough) with this line. i’ve heard some very funny things in this my short life o! someone said to me once that if we dated and he cheated on me, it would be because i’d either cheated on him first or was thinking of cheating on him… or the one that told me he loves girls differently hence his inability to be faithful to his girlfriend who he’s “committed” to the irony! my people, does this make even the tiniest bit of sense??? wharisaldis hoolabaloo?????? or mabe im getting old, i dunno… *rubs temples*

first of all let me state with emphasis right here and right now!! I WILL NOT HAVE SEXUAL RELATIONS (anymore :|) BEFORE I MARRY. i hope this is clear. please save me (and yourself) the stress of giving you a lecture on morals by asking me or assuming dating me will get you there before marriage. IT WONT.

save the wonderful men i’ve been privileged to meet, i would have viewed the whole male specie with nothing but suspicion and disgust because of the lies i’ve heard, but i want to believe lying is not gender dependent. some women can knock your socks off too. okay. that’ll be all. thanks for stopping by. Domo Arigato!!!