"ADE'S JOURNAL", 36

  Cloudy With A Touch Of Sunshine is how I feel right now and I am not mincing words. As in, it is time to just do it. But as I lift my glass and pour the near frozen drink into my glass, I taste it. It is bitter and quickly spreads all around my bland tongue. How did this happen?
I am not sure, but as I crush on the hollow ice cube that raced towards my throat I crush it with white raging teeth and ease the bike taste in my mouth. Why, is still the question on my mind. I try to trap the slice of lemon that isn't making my drink taste better but worse. Eventually I do and it's so stiff and unappealing that it flies off and out of my fingertips. Now I get it, it isn't lemon but a tiny formed unripe line and to make matters worse, the waiter had sliced into the seed. This was the most beautiful looking bike tasting drink I've had in my life. How on earth could something this beautiful be so distasteful. Lucky me, I didn't order any food. My friends did and watching them eat made me smile, I taste the horrid drink Again and stop and taste the chicken that shocked me and tastes good. I decide to just stop drinking and my entire being thanked me for it. The lemon sauce did not come on time and when it did, I said the chef deserved to be chopped. It was runny and didn't look good, what is going on? This was supposed to be a five star restaurant, I watch as the waiter accepted his flaws and did not apologize. He did, sort of but I was not interested. What mattered was that I was spending quality time with my two quality friends.

"ADE'S JOURNAL", 35

  Night comes swiftly as the sun lingers more than briefly. Teardrops soaked in salt, swayed by syrupy nectar fountains, trapped in the flutes of flowers, desperate to be pollinated. Just asthe winds carry the sweet aroma, it drags along and lures beasts that defy all reason.
 As in, the earth is not round but spherical and you miss the target by an inch which others missed by a mile. The bumblebee is heavy, yet it moves and flies with wings lighter than a feather. And the much fluttered wings buzz so loud that ears are blocked and protected from an assault from such a mighty force.

"ADE'S JOURNAL", 34

     A lazy Wednesday starts with feeling like I just slept for an hour that is obviously not enough, at all at all. In fact, I need to catch at least two more hours of sleep and as I tuck my cold feet beneath my Ankara cover cloth. The weather intensifies into a horrid humid mess with the sun is absent, the clash and cluster of a confusing rainy season weather amplifies my laid back feeling. But much as I tried, sleep just eludes me. I know I was stuck in traffic yesterday and had spread myself thin enough and that after work, I paid four family members courtesy visits all in one day. And no where else but in traffic laden, overpopulated and choked streets with countless renovations going on. I mean, I watched the beautiful park built by former governor Fashola squashed and turned into a bus park by the current administration.
Too much to do and too little time, such is life. The buzz about June 12 made me a little afraid there would be protesters, political rallies and movement. If you don't know what I am talking about, I am talking about the first time Nigeria was going to become a democratically run country. All crushed by death and many protests and delays. We are here now and history has reared up its head like a king cobra and risen up to remind us youths of the fight and struggle Nigerians endured to get here.
My yesterday was filled with watching the local stations walk us through the 1993 journey, wounds and struggles. With our current president apologizing to MAKO Abiola's family, I am in awe and shocked at the same time. And my mentor Professor Wole Soyinka was taken aback by the gesture. It really is a new dawn and I just hope we could all collectively hold our government accountable And Make our systems run successfully. I mean, this no power supply situation is breaking my bank.
  I feel something land on my ear and wave my Ankara to chase the insect away, I think I am sleeping off. Then I hear it, that annoying whiny sound the male mosquitoes make to attract a male. They want to feast and procreate over my blood, no freaking way. I jump up and attempt to slap them both in my flat palm and fail. I just get an insecticide and spray the room, in all my rage and step out.
Goodness gracious, can't I just not hear or see that buzzing annoying blood sucker.
I seriously miss traveling, I don't miss mosquitoes or all the noise and stress of generator sets and fumes from traffic.
I am obviously, Hopelessly In Lo e With Greener Pastures....

"ADE'S JOURNAL", 33

   Why Stand By Me In The Morning, because our warm embrace is real. Why laugh with me in the evening, because all I say is true. And why cry with me in the evening, because I pour my heart to you. Also why lay with me at night, because our day is done our thinking forgone and we need our energy for tomorrow.
  It was magical and felt real as he lowered his lips to mine and my heart raced a mile. I can still feel his soft cold sweaty palms on my quivering flesh.
In that moment I felt my pelvic dance and my body lean towards him. I know I am lonely but I do not feel alone. And in that instant, my head took charge and moved my hands to block what would have been the perfect kiss. This was not meant to be, I will not become one of those women that end up with their late husband's best friend. I also understand it all now, as a child I heard of this and thought it a betrayal. My auntie we'd her late husband's best friend and in that instant. Questions about her infidelity during my uncle's life time plagued my mind. Although my uncle's reassured my aunt's that nothing happened. It was logical to think in that way and be suspicious. Everyone has suspected me and have concluded that I must have given him my body. But how could I? Mine was Henrik's, my heart was in his and his in mine. But the sting of death quenches this longing and now my dreams are hunted by another. This our one moment of almost kissing plays in my dreams and my wakeful thoughts. Perhaps I am not busy enough, after all I should have my runway collection ready by now. I have cut and hand stitched pedalled and used industrial machine to sew my collection. My show should have a collection, by August I should have a collection. By August eight my collection should be made and as I hand stitched roses, I smile.
And then frown, his rough cheeks that brushed my smooth skin made me want him. God help this mortal body fight this desires of the flesh. My phone vibrates and his name pops up, this handsome beast that means to tame me. I vehemently refuse to pick and know he will come to my office this dark morning. So, I rise up. Unafraid of any and everything at the same time.
 I need a treat, hot chocolate drink drenched in milk to wake me up this cold morning in the city called Lagos.

"ADE'S JOURNAL", 32

   Fresh aroma of the baby corn fills the air as the ants Gather to feast and clear all it had to offer. I stop and stares the Ants Gather At The Corn Husk,  should I stop it or just watch it? I stand and stare instead what used to be my favorite delight, almost envying the ants that could eat the raw tasty delight. Corn used to be my best snack, boiled or roasted it just made my day. I remember in junior secondary school one, I even munched on a fresh baby corn and yet did not suffer any consequences. My first food poisoning saga was with boiled corn. Just like today, the freshness of the corn drew me to the seller and as she hands me the hot delight in an old cut out newspaper. I munched on it and killed my hunger, it was delicious and fresh. One hour later, I feel full and a need to throw up, but instead feel like my oesophagus was clogged or compressed. I go to the television station to chat with my favorite uncle and decide to leave early. I obviously need to used the toilet, not now but soon. And as I walk down the hall I gag and hold my mouth and start to throw up until I am weak. There are people holding me as my fever peaks and then I hear my uncle's voice. He is upset I cannot recognize him and I take a deep breath and open my eyes. I have been splashed with cold water and given medicine. I did not even know when I was carted back into my uncle's office. Calm and relaxed, I smiled. He was furious I did not mention I was not feeling fine and asked what I had eaten. When I say boiled corn on the street, he screamed. They had just done a report on a family of eight that died from eating boiled corn sold on the road side and only one the youngest survived.
I didn't know one could get food poisoning from hot food and learned it was all about how the food was handled.
Now you understand my envy and respect for ants and as I stand and photograph these amazing creatures... My friends all cluster and admire my shot, the corn looks delicious....

"ADE'S JOURNAL", 31

   The silvering glitter from the curved top hexagonal scales, caught the reflection of the crescent moon and as it sounded it lands back in. When The Fish Flip And Turn, it lands hard and make the dark surface of the lagoon form inconsistent ripples. It's saying a lot and hoping a lot and most of all a heavy dose of maybe.
Maybe it will land on the same spot or travel with the chaotic sea waves. Whatever happens it is time and this time, u shall wait and see it through. No obstacles or prey shall head my way and no goal shall be left unattained. This time, I too shall swim against the heavy currents and finally overcome....

"ADE'S JOURNAL", 30

   Live and direct from Lagos city, the clouds spill and pour and cough unapologetically. Too much to do and too little time, makes the eager crowd race and rush to meet their deadline. The time to resume work, especially before the boss come in. To the bus that gets you across the Third Mainland Bridge, just before seven. Any time after that and we are definitely late, they grumble. As the determined worker bees talk about  the unnecessary traffic they face on their way to make a living.
  I just missed this crowd and I desperately want to see how fashion forward, Lagosians have gone.
Of course they didn't disappoint and as I step out of the cramped mini bus, the feast of fabrics begin.
I see that six pieces skirts are still in and the peplum reigns supreme and I can clearly see that gowns have replaced the jeans wearing culture and flared three quarters sleeves are preferred. My eyes digest and munch on men that love the Ankara shirts made to look like short sleeve versions of office shirts. And of course, midi gowns and maxis reign supreme. It was interesting to see raw sewn crudely made clothes and perfectly tailored bespoke outfits, brush and pass one another. It was beautiful to see many different fabrics tested and so many fails and guess what, so much more achieve lovely finishing and that perfect outfit.
  I was truly on the best street fashion runway and as I walked from CMS to Idumota Lagos, I stroll on the freshly tarred road and take in how past and current trends are transmitted into Beautiful outfits for all shapes and sizes. My beautiful mind caught a new kind of fire and as minute raindrops blown by the intense Lagoon breeze, splashed my flushed face. I paused, got out my design pad and pencil down the words raindrops, wind and vultures.
I almost bump into a harsh scavenging bird pecking with head buried deep in a nylon, as if it was a caucus. As it fed, I could see the black feathers of its massive bulk hiding beneath the yellow nylon and just like that..... The skirt took shape in my head like a dream on a whimsical runway....