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About Me

My photo

 My story may shock you, but then again your situation may be worse. Delve in and find out....
The best moments are the ones when, that affect people positively and inspire them to laugh and live. 
             But is this, the entire story?
 The Human experience is Unique and every person has something to give, you just need to see it from my perspective and I craft words, actions and events from this very human angle.

Ade's Journal Part 6

Ade's Journal Part 6
My Valentine & The Elegance Of A Clean Breakup

Ade's Journal Part 5

Ade's Journal Part 5
My Scrumptious Valentine Kiss

Ade's Journal Part 4

Ade's Journal Part 4
A Scorpion is not a Lobster

Ade's Journal Part 3

Ade's Journal Part 3
My Insane Week Before Valentine

Ade's Journal Part 2

Ade's Journal Part 2
He Had The Guts To Come Back

Popular Posts

"No"

Tuesday, 12 December 2017

Mass Weddings For Widows In Medieval Times

Mass Weddings For Widows In Medieval Times


"ADE'S JOURNAL", 87

     Hovering around the skies like a thief in this light, wondering how long before the day turns to night. I see clearly from my birds eye view, territory I lost as I merged to become you. I became your maid, your nurse, your therapist and chef and the only thank you I get is when you paint me beautiful to your friends. My family bond you broke and my close friends you chose, this leash you yank and tug around my neck. Just to control and brag to your friends and prove to yourself you can. And the little mistakes I made, lord have mercy. You sing like a hit song to crush the little smile I bim just to prove you wicked self that you can control me. The times I stood for hours, begging and pleading with you to pick a meal you want so I can cook it to perfection. As I sacrificed my own time to please you, yet you tell everyone willingly and quickly that I do not care for you. Nights of tears were plenty and nights again you taunt me, blame me for all that befalls you and scream out loud the mistakes you made by marrying me. How you should never have looked at me and how selfish I have been in all our ten years together. My sister suffers my pain because at night when you spend hours bullying me far and near and I'm all cried out from your miserable existence. She is the only person you let me talk to and all our WhatsApp conversations you printed and showed me to prove that you own me. The synchronized phone lines, the buttons you pressed and the hard way you made me depressed. Oh what a wonder that you were snatched and lifted high by this prowling creature that swooped in untamed. My ignorance and sense of security crashed with you as my boss in our uneven relationship.
  Oh lord you blessed me when you didn't let me get pregnant for this beast I've been chained to for years. My painful zombie years as a slave to you now over for your wicked ways did not go unpunished because now it happened. You stressed your heart to stop and the attack was sudden and tough. So my freedom came as you died and I swear I never want to get married in this life.
    I never planned to meet another and I thank God everyday that I'm not rich enough to remarry ever again. So I tolerate you, this new man and watch you pray for a miracle to make me your bride. I set up on a pedestal my wicked pride and declare to everyone that marriage will never be my portion ever again. He was convenient this new man, not rich and not demanding just safe for me.
But this morning he raced in happy and lifts me high up in the air.
I watched him break my heart with news that I could not comprehend.... Mass weddings For Widows In Medieval Times.
I heard him say it again without adding what my mind conjured up, the medieval bit and my heart broke again as he snapped at me and shouts again. He blamed me for my denial and my dreams of a marriage that exists only in the movies. I had a duty to serve and obey and birth or procreate. I really don't remember his words, all I remember saying was never again. Yes never again will I be bullied into becoming someone else and yes, I reject the offer to be part of this. I'm sure there is respect and compassion in some unions and those ones deserve to take my spot. The repercussions was brutal, to reject this gift given to me on a federal level with benefits and goodies to uplift me from poor to middle class. To them it was simple and to me it was happening all over again. So I use my God given right of making a choice and choose to say no. I am shunned and bullied by my entire community and told I am self centered that life was not mine alone to live. This time I am stronger and I promise them I will sell the meals they never appreciate to strangers. To people willing to pay a little and appreciate that I make a meal available. Not to an angry man that shouts at me and declares I failed or this raging bull mimicking my man and has replaced my new groom.
As I pack my belongings into an old wrapper and mount it on my head. The community realized I am serious and my stand is solid as a rock. On the road out of town and as a group, they beg me and accept that I can draft a contract with witnesses and even leave after. The ninety nine bride's was not enough for them. They needed the hundredth bride to join and round up the figures. So that the odd number is rounded up and no evil befalls my very interesting community. But this opportunity for thier brother would never come again.
So I take control and draft my expectations and this time they know I am not going to take any rubbish. He apologized and claimed he was pressurized into bullying me but had long shed my naiveness. I am one of the bride's to be and I am one of the bride's with some leverage. My union is not a perfect one but I will exist and be alive in this thing called marriage.
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Busola Elegbede
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Friday, 8 December 2017

Stolen Ostriches Eggs Bags Jail Time

Stolen Ostriches Eggs Bags Jail Time


"ADE'S JOURNAL", 86

    Reach out deep inside and underneath the tough feathers and try and feel the hard exterior of this rare gem.
  Seriously, I've never seen anything like it before in all my life. Quail eggs look like marbles and I heard they are delicious but no thank you. I am not crossing that line, after chickens that's it. But then again  I am tired of asking and trying to just earn a serious living. Maybe it's the risk involved, but you can't blame me for trying. Just look at my phone, cracked and passed on from many hands. The screen blurry and missing bits and I pray all the time it does not ring. Because if it does, then that awkward moment is here. That time that I have to reach into my pocket and pick it up. Yes I put it on silent mode, but those updated apps just know how to embarrass me. Anyway, shame has me at this junction and has me in this horrendous mess. My face has gone viral for the wrong reasons, if only I had listened to reason.
 As I feel the exterior of the large egg shells, I see it already. The new phone and laptop, the new shoes and hot meals. The ladies all beside me as I walk into the VIP section, all expenses paid by me. My shoes shine and cause a ruckus as they Google the price and faint.
These ostrich eggs will make me rich , way beyond my years. The creature pecks me and I snap out of my daydream. Have you heard an ostrich cry out and call out for help? It's like nothing I even imagined or heard and because of it, the owners nab me. And as they cuff me, the large bird kicks me back into a harsh reality. Me and my stupid accomplice are whisked away in handcuffs and paraded in front of the media. If that was all, I would have just been silent. The court sentence was harsh as I heard the overweight judge rant. Twenty five  years' imprisonment for Stolen Ostriches Eggs, the taboo is real. As I listened and collected from all the generous Bags of Jail Time I am christened with, I cannot help but want to turn back the hands of time...
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Busola Elegbede
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Tuesday, 5 December 2017

Everything Is At A Halt

Everything Is At A Halt


"ADE'S JOURNAL", 85

  The Afternoon sun blazes and rages on as the rain clouds shrink and evaporate into nothing. That's what the weather is like right now and as my feet gently stumps into the dry crusty earth, fine dust powder rise and fall all around them. And clings and tries to hide between the crevices in my toes. Like smoke it travels beneath my limbs as they shiver and rise and fall, advancing towards something. Ask me where I am going for the bitter truth is that I do not know. Only ask me where we have been and then I will proudly show and tell. What wonders I have experienced and such love I have felt. It is sudden and to my dismay I hear my heart flutter and beat irregularly and then feel my brain wobble in my light head. I do what I must, respond and fight and almost crash and fall.
But alas, I don't. Because I have learned to hold my breath in that instant and breathe in deeply and out smoothly. Again I have disappointed myself, I really thought I wanted it all to end, Yet I have just tried to continue to live.
   What does it all mean?
I spot a beautiful funnel flower white and lovely with yellow stamens hanging over as if ready to be placed over a burning flame. But I cannot just stare at it, I must own it or worse photograph it. The shade does it no justice and only in the natural light can it shine. So I pluck it from its stem with its voluptuous leaves and place it on the gray nylon. It stares at me and invites me to join in the photoshoot and as I get my shot, I cover it all up. The end of its short but useful life and the beginning of mine. This is the only time I can feel something, when the camera is between my fingers and I hear the shutter sound. Like with everything this has come to an end and as I look up, I spot my friend calling out to me....

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Busola Elegbede
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Friday, 1 December 2017

Dreams Is Where We Are A Family Again

Dreams Is Where We Are A Family Again


"ADE'S JOURNAL", 84

  Just like a shell high on hope and fuel abundant yet scarce, I move with the tides. I sway where it takes me as I just fight and flee and try hard to survive this brutal underwater world. I clap and swim and cheer and scream until I reach close enough to it and stretch and try hard to catch it. I am close to everything yet far from everyone and I want to go yet I stay and stray away from my goals.
   Do you catch my drift?
 Well maybe not in this wave that smashes and tries to pry me open and dislocate my shells from one another. Should I yield or buckle or hold it together in my pink fluffy world. The pink shrimps circle and lead and then follow me. Beautiful uncountable creatures that gives the long legged flamingos those feathers you all love. The sea tastes fresh and the frothy white sea waves rise high and crash hard until perfect sand pebbles line the shore and form an array of beautiful ripples. The grooves on my shell collect perfect sea sand dust that sway in the sea and flow with the current like fluid smoke. You should see it as the pink shrimps devour the elements within them, the nutrients hidden in them. I just want to get to my mate, even if we both lay on our sea bed with disjointed shell casing. All that would matter is that we made it together, until the very end. If only this was us....
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Busola Elegbede
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Tuesday, 28 November 2017

A Nigerian Tragedy

A Nigerian Tragedy


"ADE'S JOURNAL", 83

I slept angry at the world and mad at myself. The guts of these people, these annoying people that won't stop yapping.
Talk about unfair, I choose to wait until the wicked  sun shining outside disappears. As soon as it does, I’m on my way out of this wicked miserable world. The question is why did I go to bed angry. The real question is what is going in? And why did this happen to me? To understand my plight you need to get to the core of things....
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Busola Elegbede
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Saturday, 25 November 2017

A Wedding, Two Gifts And All Sorts

A Wedding, Two Gifts And All Sorts


"ADE'S JOURNAL", 82

 Just like a tall glass of cold sweet and sour lemonade on a hot humid afternoon, the smile on her face lights up and soothes me in this congested room. As she waves a fan made from painted peacock feathers, why anyone would paint a majestic birds colour baffles me. They painted it pale golden peach like the colours of our gele's. As I huddle and sway with the other friends of the bride. I watch as it gets dark as we advance into the room that has practically no air. Many rush to be with the bride and be seen in the camera lens that record this eventful day. But not me, I just watch her nails and the burgundy lipstick perfectly carved on her full lips. It parts and sings along as we all sway and follow her. The MC then ends the song abruptly and orders us to leave that they do not need to see us anymore. There was a rudeness in his voice that made us all gasp and echo that we are no longer needed. When did we get so rude and insensitive? The jokes were distasteful and directed at women as if they were desperate and clasping at straws in a very big ditch filled with quicksand. I have not looked at my watch this much since the early two thousand's. And the worst part is that I don't even have a watch on.
That is why I made sure the MC of my day was not just popular but respectful. I trust my family members, they would match up to the stage and collect the microphone from you. I want to leave but my friends hold me back and ask me to stay an extra hour, that is sixty whole minutes. I bring out my phone and set an alarm that has the same ring tone as my in coming calls. The sitting arrangements are interesting, those of us not on the high table are closer to the caterers. And for thirty minutes we watch as drinks and food are hoisted high up in silver trays over our heads and marched to the high table. I don't mind, I have my frozen drink and I set it on the table and sip from it. Melting quickly I drink it all up and the clock just refused to move. This heat will not kill me and I check my phone again, not sure why the alarm has not gone off. The older men and women around me can't take it anymore and stop the waiters from passing us with drinks and food. Screaming that they have been here since twelve noon and I just gasped. I'm here for an hour and I want to jump up and run. The bride joins us and smiled at me and I frown. I recognized her and did not like what I was seeing. Her chief bridesmaid was also someone I knew and I grab my bag and I'm ready to run. My friends stop me and ask me to smile. I watch my father frown and grumbled that he did not approve of this, that traditionally the bride picked the venue. I try to calm him and my mum starts to cry. She did not like who I was getting married to and I snapped at her. I wave the golden peach fan and tried to breathe in my very tight wedding dress. He picked it because the waist was sinched. And I agreed because I wanted it to look smaller, even though I never imagined wearing a course wedding dress. He tricked me into paying fully for it  and I did not like this. It was as if I was the one marrying him and he was just present. To make it even worse than it was, he was drunk by ten this morning. So he was nursing a hangover and blaming me for everything. And I did see him hug Khadijatu as if they were intimate and my heart broke. Why didn't I see it before now and why did I not listen to my gut instincts. Should I divorce him now based on my suspicions or live with this?
The alarm starts to go off and I flinch and turn my head and try to open my eyes...
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Busola Elegbede
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Wednesday, 22 November 2017

Septuplets Alone Will Do

Septuplets Alone Will Do


"ADE'S JOURNAL", 81

   Seems like I missed out on a lot, do you blame me? Before you answer, don't, I have so much to say and show you. If you could just calm down and listen to me. My creative mind takes off long before I catch up. So just try and be patient and just walk with me. I am walking on a path that is familiar to me but not right now and as I approach the room that hunts my childhood I pause. The familiar bed that my siblings and I fiddled with the loose thread and then all the fabric encased around it peels off like when I peel off without breaking the perfect layer of onion. The bed then became our personal poker dot project, we would try to make even holes in the foam of the matrass without any form of cover. My father is long across the ocean on a training course and my mum too busy in her out of control creative mind to notice. The room that used to boast of visitors has become a tomb and that word joined my vocabulary when I stumble on a horror movie with a desecrated tomb. That's how it started, the fear I mean. I have long abandoned the idea of having fun in empty abandoned rooms. The spring filled matrass that I used to jump up and try to touch the ceiling. No longer has that appeal to me, it is now that room filled with monsters lurking in the dark and hanging and swinging my feet while I sit on the bed now scares me. I do not want to be here but when I feel trapped and stagnant, I find myself in this room from my childhood memories in Benin city. Yes I know, I did get scared a lot in that city but it's because I got aware of fear. Before then a skeleton was just something imagined but then I found out that that's what is underneath our skin. When the flesh is stripped off, and blood long gone it's all that is left. Science class now has me wondering if the teacher had killed to get the skeleton in her laboratory or if it's all plastic. I reached out to touch it and she shouts at me and my suspicions grow.
Why am I here? I so want to wake up and never see this room again but the curtains form the head of a monster and I try to turn to leave and tried harder to wake up. This is ridiculous, I hear my mum laughing and know this is definitely a dream. She has not laughed like that since I was a child and the visitors help. The house gets to see sunlight again and the light floods the room and all the horror fades away. I begin to open my eyes and wake up and then I heard it.
I listened as the crickets stopped chirping and the dogs stop croaking. I sighed and it ends with a whistle and I search my current room for someone with a whistle. I breathe again and heard my breath whistle, it was strange but true. I decide to adjust and help to see if I was still whistling. It had stopped and I missed the sound.
 The pillows I lay my heavy head deflates as I tried to keep it just high enough to stay calm enough to send me to the state of mind I long for. I heard it and then shrugged it off as I hear it again and again.
The lizards grind their teeth as they munch on the carcass of curious cockroaches hunting for prey. This, been awake is better than being out of control.
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Busola Elegbede
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