"ADE'S JOURNAL", 20

   Knock on my head again and you will see what I will do to you. Crawl up my many hair springing up and standing at attention  and I will crush those your spiny little limbs. Stay where you are, very far from where I want to be. But don't stop for me or think of me, because I have no room for you. My friend stuck in a black hole the world calls friendship zone. Just stop your superstitious belief that I will magically be yours and no. Don't buy into the bullshit that I am somehow now, brainwashed into thinking you are now appealing. There is no way on earth I will ever give you a chance. You are only the simple honey bee in my way and this African hornet is hungry. And the only thing I want to taste is the delicious goodies dripping from freshly honed wax. Not yours, not ever. Only the one from the hexagonal home of a survivor, one that survives our hives massacre. If any of you does, and as I taste the freshness of the nectar flavor in the honey... My wingspan increases as I dance the victory dance to the beat. Like I expected, no one survived.

"ADE'S JOURNAL", 19

     The root of all things reveals much more than its blossoms or its fruits. To see the flat dark brown twin casing, hiding within its protruding hollow roots and petals from its Beautiful flowers littered around it. A botanist whispered in my ears about dwarfs, a name close to the hybrid car and van... The Sienna and bragged about the tree also native to Florida. I had no clue what she was talking about, so I asked and listened closely. She did say dwarf and kind of point and then I raised my eyebrows. Its a Dwarf Poinciana tree, Caesalpinia pulcherrima. The botanical name, I was sure I would not remember. But the dwarf poinciana tree, stays fresh on my mind and will be the picture that adds colour to my dreams.
 Reminds me of my colourful childhood and fun filled adventures in Kaduna. Not too far from my favorite tree is the gully that haunts my dreams. A place I wanted to slide down as a child and just go on my adventure for life. This limestone plagued gully erosion maze, lies not too far from my childhood home in the military base I grew up in. The same one where an owl found its way into our water tank and delayed my bath for the first time since I could hold a memory. That was during the day, it took forever for plumbers to clean and clear the tank. I didn't complain, I had three siblings keeping me busy. We count all the stair cases in the house and each revolution of the fans. Imagined we were flying from the top of the stairs, down to an angry sea. Pretended to be chefs, as I trained my sous chefs on what and how to prepare meals. Even though, in the real world the meal was just bread and butter with sliced boiled eggs. We try to spin like Olympic ice skaters and as the world's horizon, swayed and tilts like sludge trapped in a small glass globe. We all collapse on the floor as it swayed some more and then goes back to its original horizontal plane. Not showering early morning during the holidays, I wish more owls would choose our water tankers as their final resting place. I seriously doubt it though, because I heard my mum telling them to get a new water tank. This time it would have a lid which will be screwed down, unlike the former one that was shut like a gift box lid.
And now, finally i had a bath. Not joyfully, but with a lot of grumbling and complaining. I truly believed that as first born, I should get to choose to do a lot of stuff first. Instead my mum and dad made me have a bath first and be punished first. Oh well, that was just my morning. Just after dinner time, I had captured and relocated ten antlions and as giant bugs slammed into our florescent lights at night. I quickly grab them and place them in mesh containers that used to contain candy. My sister did not mind the antlions but winged insects freaked her out. So my bug adventure were always with our neighbors. Boys that tried to catch up with my love for nature and my curiosity about worms and ants  I loved my time as a child, I was fearless and free and borderless and like a comic book blurring images, to show flash backs. My dream fades and I wake up...

"ADE'S JOURNAL", 18

    The dust coughs and jumps off a cracked earth, just as whirlwinds dance and hop in spiral springs of cold winds with uneven shades hues of shades of minute pebbles. The rush of sandy solid cold winds slice into my warm moist serrated body, annoyed and gingered me to do more. Much more to stay warm and crawl quickly out of the reach of predators and stray prey. All now place me in the line of falling debree and harm and on a dangerous path. If only this storm would come in tomorrow and let me go into my cocoon state. If only I was already in my cocoon state, a tired bird swarms down and almost pecks at my delicate exterior. I shoot at it with my porcupine like poisonous armor. Irritated, it uses its wings to try to pry off the dangerous poisonous darts I defend myself with. Instead it slams into a strange forest wall and is picked up by giants. I suddenly loose the need to run, instead I crawl to the corner of any usually smooth looking branch and start to build. And as I encase myself in this spider web like soft cocoon, it hardens and collects dust and sand. In an instant, I was camouflaged and concealed and hidden from predator and prey. I am once again free to live to fight another day....

"ADE'S JOURNAL", 16

  A steak looking sunset reflects over the bland murky horizon, at the bottom is a dusty road infested with pot holes filed uneven aged asphalt, tarred and grinded by time and a brand new ambulance. Inside is a coffin of a young man in his prime, cut short by failed kidneys. His brother is in tears and his work colleagues sing songs of old. As they escort his corpse to its final resting place, behind them is an entourage of six work vehicles showing support to his family and respect for the life he lived.
In an instant, a pothole about two feet deep swallowed the right tire and forced the ambulance into a side rail. The impact crush all the sides and fuel spilled and burst into flames. In two minutes a large flame is all that could be seen as people braced burns and pried open the burning ambulance. Charred remains burned around the burning coffin as three are rescued and unconscious. The entourage becomes emergency vehicles as they now race to save three lives. Others stand and watch the ambulance collapse into charred remains and ash flies about. Where are the four men singing? Where is the only brother of the deceased and where is the coffin? All that is left is a mangled frame, a skeleton like ribcage that once was an ambulance. If it was an advanced country, someone will be held accountable. If there was justice, the bad road is grounds for a lawsuit. If and if there could be a way, they would still be alive. In Nigeria, how many burn victims survive? The traumatic scene of those young boys, assigned by work to follow a fellow colleagues corspe to its resting place.
Oh lord, why is death such a scary time in this part of the world? Why can't we bury the dead in peace? May their souls all rest in peace and may the remaining three be a living testimony to us all and survive this ordeal.
How can we be better and value human lives more? Oh lord protect us all.
A crowd gathered as I watched hard and  long at a bleak horizon....

"ADE'S JOURNAL", 15

    It's not real because it's the nightmare I heard about as an eight year old restless little girl, jumping up and down on cement and wooden floors. I was an endless explorer, searching for the next adventure to keep my adrenal glands pumping. My dad would shriek and warn that the septic tank or s we all used to call it back then, the 'suck away' was fragile. I mean the surface, it was not made for jumping on. But the sound it made was Precious.
So I ignore all his wise warnings and just hopped and thumped on it. My mum was harsh and practice and screamed that six years worth of poop was going to kill me instantly with no one bothering to rescue me. That warning did the trick, I hated doing the number 2 and could not even imagine my feet in it, talk more of my entire body. And to top it all up, I have my party so all sort of my friends and their friends had used our toilet. And big mouthed James was here, so I knew the entire school would mock me forever. So I jumped off the cracked surface and watched about six cockroaches run after me. We sprint and run for our lives, I remember my teacher saying they spread leprosy. My birthday was fun and the backyard was now out of bounds.
 Why on earth am I back at this crazy moment in my life? Why did I not remember me swinging my skinny arms upside down on a large tree. As I tried to ignore the the angry soldier ants, biting me and trying to get me out of thier way.
One massive bite sent me falling down the low branch of the tree I was showing off to my friends from. And as I anticipate the impact and wounds from my fall, I also love as my classmates cheer and scream with excitement at the bold fearless child I am.

"ADE'S JOURNAL", 14

   Inside a dug funnel dry sandy pebbles hole, I peep and shift as I move backwards and lift soil from the home I am trying to make. Yes, I must see it in my mind as I hold on to a dream, leading me into an endless bliss. The bright sun shining is a reflection of how I feel and as the earth trembles, I hope that a prey is nearby. So I lift tge soil and make my unsuspecting home bigger. My body is out of the hole, too sure the that anything that curiosity drags to my dibble foundation would be a delicious treat. Such lies I tell myself, for as I lie and wait, buried deep beneath the sand. I breathe slowly and my oval body barely moves and my awkward limbs stay hidden. I have mimicked that which will feed me, my skin blends well into the sand. A delicious succulent, rich meal crawls onto my foundation and starts to fall into my abyss. The more it struggles the further down it comes and straight into my anxious jaws. The rich succulent nutrients sip into my throat as I swallow and feed on the stray insect. Oh it pays to be good at what you do and to hone your skills and watch it feed you.
Way back, I was ashamed of Wherever you may want go, I told myself, that I would like to be somewhere else. I don't mind the scorching heat or my hungry throat, closing and clamping down hard, filling me and just feeding my hunger me. All I want is to be quench my thirst and fill my belly. And this one insect will not do, so here we go again....