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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

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Tuesday, 28 March 2017

A Termites Tale Of The Coin That Time Stole


"ADE'S JOURNAL" 13

   The heavy burden on its tiny translucent back, seemed to weigh down on the tiny creature. Anyone watching could not help but want to help as The piece of the Beautiful a Maple Leaf, carved and sliced by its tiny jaws. This piece is from a woven branch, the kind artists love to illustrate and carve. The maple leaf was going to feed the lot or shield the larvae. The certainty of it all was unclear, but the stench from the rotten wood would definitely feed the hungry bunch. Mine was A Termites Tale Of The Coin That Time Stole, but it never ends right? I'm on this threadmill of unending cycle. Go and fetch wood, slice young shoots and bring in carcasses of juicy meals that will lead the way for the next generation. I'm not the fastest or the strongest, but I see it. The loophole in this Ferris wheel of deciet, I am stuck and the friends I move with are too. I want to climb up the ladder of success but I am stuck like glue to this rot. I trust only two people and we have been planning this heist for years. Like clockwork, we would scramble the security footage with a higher technology. Use a laminated wooden ladder to move this Thier precious coin made of gold. Who would miss it? Why should it go to waste? We have our plans ready, down to smelting it to gold chains and shipping it out with the container short of one hundred pounds of gold. This tiny worker termite has thought of everything. I'm tracking the nine hundred and ninety nine point nine pure gold, pass off as normal jewelry. It's crossed to Amsterdam and has long left Germany. I'm glad part of it has been shipped to Saudi, America and Africa. Soon, it will all be untraceable. But just in case, I will bite hard into the records of the inventory and start a fire. This way, I can't be traced to any of it. Too bad the guard didn't think that far ahead and it's a good thing that we never met. His five hundred thousand Euros will be confiscated and his family blacklisted. To dine with the devil is hard, but to bask in the reward is heavenly.... I hear something, someone... I am not been sincere, to dine with the devil is hard. Im afraid of any mistakes I have made and I'm suspicious of everyone. Is this how I'm going to live the rest of my life? This worker bee is scared, are you?

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Saturday, 25 March 2017

Failing To Pass For Seven Years


"ADE'S JOURNAL", 12


     A fraction of a grain of sand, yet we bond together. My spinny web like limbs are sensitive to your touch and your words, that sting and scream at me. Ordinarily, I should just stop and shrivel and die. But the familiar look of my friends and siblings, the same words they whispered to me... Has me brainwashed and believing I can do it. This tiny ant that has taken it upon herself to carry this large gecko. I bite into it's thick dry skin and nothing happens. It's not my first attempt and it won't be my last. I can see the dent that isn't there, I can see my impact even though I've not yet achieved it. The large human eyes Watching me glows with moisture. I know it is tempted to tell it's giant limbs to crush me. But we are both curious and Its been a while but I believe its time to smile. It's Like I'm swimming across the Nile andno longer thinking of my decline. Or I'm down the path of meanwhile and climbing up the hill until, I'm back to me. That tiny me that believes everything is possible. Smiling like I've got it right
 and remembering that its only for a while. For soon, I'll be saying again that Its been a while. I actually taste the gecko and help and celebrate, my family of ants are close by, cheering me and now, they are with me. By my side, celebrating and biting into this massive task I have achieved. This jamb that has jambed me because, I've been Failing To Pass For Seven Years. Now, together, we carry the pieces of our victory and race home. And I have done the impossible, graduated as the best student in my university and I am pregnant after another seven years of trying. All of my mind, body and soul is victorious but I won't stop there, I know I will have to empower myself and others. I know my husband and I will have to raise this child I am carrying to be strong. The world will set you up to be distracted, to fail, to feel guilty that you are different. That unlike your peers, you didn't pass the first time you tried. But I am here to tell you that everyone has their pace and mine took a little longer to Achieve. Just look at me now, on top of the world. The moral of this my story is that you must see a positive way to achieve your goals. And also surround yourself with people who whisper and remind you that you can succeed.

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Wednesday, 22 March 2017

Swaying Phantom's Sweep Dismay


"ADE'S JOURNAL", 11

  The frothing water looks beautiful, as the yatch slices deep on the surface of a beautiful sea. The Atlantic Ocean meets an untamed Lagoon as life thrives and seizes at the same time. I Stretch and pull at straws, as quicksands tiny pebbled claws and cut at me and pull me down at dawn. It won't be long now, everything will go dark and then finally, I'm done. What went wrong, was I naive to have dreamed so big? To want to live my life my way? I guess I was a little silly too. A young graduate that dreamed that I would get a high paying job in months. That did not happen and my poor parents tried to help me. But I was too far gone in dreaming and wishing and then the mental abuse started. Time is quickly ticking away, you have wasted time and failed. Who says that? Who sees your hard work and cuts down at your roots? Who sees you trying and says give up. None of them admitted to billing me into this depression, the fault is mine they all say. And add that I don't have any emotional intelligence. Na wa ooo, I don't conc myself with their lives and yet, somehow they find me, find time to find me. Then pick on me, compare me to my siblings, my dad at my age and call me selfish. I barely make the rent, the horrid place I live in that the landlord hoards water. He has a borehole yet the pump spoils every two weeks. So I buy water. This morning, after brushing my teeth I noticed dancing red short worms in the water. I am speechless and dress up for the day. The freezer is smelling, the power supply was absent so all the food I bought to save money has spoilt. Ten thousand Naira, gone down the drain. If I stay and clean it up, I would be late for work. Besides the landlord does not want my bin full. I do feel like I'm in a prison, yet everyone tells me to be grateful. My girlfriend's number is switched off. She won't talk to me anymore and blames me for wasting her years and not marrying her. How can I? The last time I collected my mingy salary was two months ago. I heard she has transferred out of my work place and has a new boyfriend.  Barely one week after our breakup, she even unfriended me on Facebook. My boss is calling me and I sigh heavily. There's supposed to be a meeting this morning before work. We used to be friends until his boss compared me to him and suggests I was on a fast track. That was the end, he would not stop verbally bullying me. It was between getting to work before work for my boss or getting water for my house for the week. My choice did not make things any better. I got an email and see the subject. A query for my absence, the old me would have panicked. But this new me, knows that queries can be answered and defended. It's such a full day and the driver who is my friend, knocks on my gate. He was going to kill himself for not having a job and I offered him fifteen from my salary to drive me to work everyday and escape the wrath of his hardworking wife. He was dedicated but other reason, my boss hates me. That he could not afford a driver and I had one. But I was him, I was that frustrated guy that tried to commit suicide. So I had to try to save him and it's the only thing I have done in six years that made me happy. My boss is calling me and my work  friend just liked a picture of my ex and her new boyfriend. He just proposed and she accepted. I sigh again, feeling this sinking feeling. My pastor called me, he tried to encourage me and I just brush his positive words aside as my driver drives me over Third Mainland Bridge. I'm pressed and I beg him to stop, very unlike me. I don't ever deface and perform indecent acts like this, but my rapid heart beat and swooning head makes me open the car door. My driver slams the brakes and then parks properly. I stare at the Lagoon and think of how lucky the water is. Wild, evaporated, salty and fresh it just keeps existing. I am tired and look over the edge and climb. I hear my driver scream and the tears of my mother. It's the past years she would shed for me, I won't disturb anyone anymore. My boss will write an ode to me, my landlord would say I was a good tenant and my family would put me on that pedestal that they never did. I won't be here though, I will finally be at peace. Only I'm not.....
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Saturday, 18 March 2017

Si se Ku, Karoshi, Over Worked To Death


"ADE'S JOURNAL", 10

    Worker Bee, Workers stream, slowly and focused on completing the task ahead. No time to play, no time again, as death draws near. To live for now, is to buzz and shuffle, until all my goals are complete. As life demands rises and the cost of living keeps climbing. How on earth am I ever to escape this rat race? It's a mighty leap from bee to rat, right? I'm a mess, I'm tired and I've been robbed and sexually harrased. The fool was walking and tapped my back side. What kind of stupid mistake is that? He claimed he was just swinging his arms and I was in the way. Shaking and screaming, I want to stab him. I want to open his empty skull and prove it is empty. One woman encourages me to hit him and the other to just walk away. I do the later and regret it immediately. I'm tired and I need to catch a train and I suspect that I am been followed. I'm not paranoid, it's just that my ex has threatened me. He cleaned out my safe, after cohabiting with me for three years. It's piling up and stacking up and soon I will not hold back. I know I am talking to myself but who cares? I'm frustrated and I need to hit someone. But I was well brought up and have a good moral compass. I can't help but be grateful to God. So I get on a train, at least I'll get to work early. Only, the train won't move. I can see them watching me. These people of the world, I feel naked and vulnerable and I begin to crack. If I don't do something now, I will forever be lost. So I speak the word of God, call the names of all who have stolen from me. Stolen money, my grades, my job and my jewelry. I tell God to fight for me and see someone recording me. Or am I just paranoid again? I accuse him and he turned away from me. But he's one of them and I don't trust anyone. I'm hard working, maybe a lot too much but I can't stop. I can't stop talking, praying, accusing and whispering. But I see three men and two women approach me. They talk to me and ask me to follow them. I check their credentials and see that one of the women is a mental health nurse. They tell me I am shouting and escort me out. If I didn't see this video recording of my breakdown, I would have denied it happened. It's my video in WhatsApp, circulating all around.  I'm on my hospital bed, on compulsory rest. Compulsory reflecting into my life, I need this break..
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Wednesday, 15 March 2017

The Wall Gecko Myth


"ADE'S JOURNAL", 9

   Scrunching and squeezing my serrated body like it was glued together. At first, I tried to bed and twist and instead, I looked like I was going to shatter and break. Luckily, I was built with quiet gaps that emerge and expose hidden spaces. Indeed, I was fortunate to be so blessed and free
 But freedom is an illusion and as hunger drives me towards my next meal. It drive another to dig and peck and find me. Unlike the skinny worms all around, this millipede is plump and ripe and the predator abandons it's spiny ripe like meal and pecks at me. The exoskeleton, I have bragged about, crumbled and my juicy interior is exposed. And as I stretch, a step forward, I watched with my side eye this being salivate and try to gulp me up and eat quickly. I move my million limbs, but I'm now upside down. These strange, skinny creatures that ribs showed from starvation amongst abundance. Got distracted by  a large  cockroach. Running away from a predator that didn't see it at first. It's iodine color, attracts the chicken and my attacker me.  And the roach died, leaving behind a massive gap in the earth. Like a swarm of bees, they dug up and dug out and a historical prey feeding on the predator, changed all the rules of engagement. As I live to fight this life, another freaking day.....
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Saturday, 11 March 2017

Frank Called And The Vampire Died


"ADE'S JOURNAL", 8

       Sticky and moist, I stretch and try to latch onto something. My folks are like me too, just slice and they will reproduce. Just like an earthworm in a rich moist loamy soil. Only, my world isn't all moist and rich. It is dry and absent of moisture or anything that encourages growth. Let me explain my predicament, I was born into a home filled with love, my mother hawked fufu and sent us all to school. Yes, all eight of us, the man that put her in the family way, nine times, has gone with the wind. Yes, nine times, my twin sister died. Maybe it's the reason I've felt empty and lost, all these years. Oh and I just found out I had a twin, my mother hid it from me. She thought I would want to join my dead twin and wanted to protect me. What did the poor naive woman know? I'm sad and alone, not like you think, I've got and put my girlfriend and my side chick in the family way. The first had a set of twins and that's when, my mother exposed my past and the secret. My baby's mama, is now in Lagos, married to a young engineer. The second baby mama, is even worse, she did a scan to prove that, she too had twins growing in her belly. The news was not good, they are quadruplets. So, I am two children, shy, of the number of children my father has. So, will I watch another man raise them? Or am I going to step up and be a man? There's only one thing I can do. The creeks call me and the man they call Vampire approached me. He liked that I had kids already, but he had good news for me. He is an educated fool, with an endless dream that did not materialize. But, unlike me, he would never let any woman walk away. I watched him brag about the day his life changed. It was the day he murdered his baby Mama, her sister and all four children. I cringed, in the cramped up canoe, we were in. How did I get here? My innocent face, got me here I am told. And five hundred thousand Naira, cash. I knew, it was going to be a dirty deal, but I did not want to end up a story on National television. You know the news headline I'm talking about. The one, where a mother has multiple birth and the father, runs away. If you must know, that was my father's story. Seven children, then twins, was all the excuses he needed to abandon us all. That was then, right now I am moved and forced into this mess. The statement that got me here, is a very cruel one. My side chick, actually said it to my face, that she would cry for help, if I didn't step up. She would call, all the media and remind them that my father too could not cater for his children. The curse of the father, seemed to be following me. I had to break this horrible circle of poverty. Back to my boat ride, I was enjoying tales from our boat rider. I bent to pick up, what looked like a dried up octopus. And then I felt it and heard a strange gargling sound. The vampire was laughing and licked the knife he just used to kill the not so innocent boat rider. I could not hide my shock and then he kicked the dying man into the lagoon. Declaring that he was a loud mouth that would have exposed, him the vampire. Now I was scared, I wanted to jump into the water and swim away. But I can't swim and I watched the other passengers sharpen knives and clean guns. Nervously, I asked for mine and they laughed. I thought about the one hundred thousand Naira, I sent to the mother of my twins. And the two hundred thousand, I gave my quadruplets mama and my poor mother, that almost died when I gave her one hundred thousand, and the shop, I bought with the last hundred thousand. Yes, I rented the wooden shop frame out for one fifty thousand, I was on my way to becoming a good entrepreneur. Only now, I'm going to be a dead one. I heard them laugh and joke about how they were going to sacrifice me to the water goddess, a beautiful man to appease her and keep the vampire alive. We reach a mangrove creek, with branches shaped like a large mamiwater, a curvy mermaid. The bones and rotten corpses around it, made me cringe and try to escape. They watched me dive into the water and struggle to stay afloat. My lungs fill up with water and then the bandit's rescue and bound me, I hear rumbling sounds and accept that I will soon meet my maker. Then, I look up and see, speed boats all around me. There are police men in them, shooting at us. The awkward shaped mangrove tree, collects a lot of gun fire and crash lands on the Vampire. He crashed and received multiple bullets. The police climb the Creek and arrests the two survivors and cart away, the Vampires corpse. They watch me and bundle me along as a victim. And I promised as we rode away, to work hard, provide for my family and never ever, try to get rich quick. I could see my life changing already as I was given a second chance....

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Tuesday, 7 March 2017

Prostitutes And Pimp's Negotiate Admist Troubled Takwa Bay Waters


"ADE'S JOURNAL", 7

   Inside a dug hole, I peep with eyes on two sticks. They are armorless and exposed and the salty waters, scratch and sink into each slice, sharp sand and sharp salt. They hurt my eyes, but I must see as I hold on to a dream, leading me into an endless abyss. The darkness is a reflection of how I feel and as the earth trembles, I hope that a prey is nearby. So I lift my body out of the hole, too sure the shell around my body will protect me. Such lies I tell myself, for as I lift myself with awkward limbs, I am knocked hard on my head, this sea crab is in trouble. I have been tricked and realize that I am the prey. The predator had mimicked, that which I savor. A delicious succulent, rich meal and now I am in a trap.
Way back, I was ashamed of Wherever you may want go, I told myself, that I would like to be there. I don't mind the scorching heat or my dry throat, closing and clamping down hard, dehydrating me and just stressing me. All I want is to be cloaked in gold. How naive, I was. But the truth is so far off now and I have been used too many times to believe my own lies. I'm not in the mood to be stopped or talked to, I just want to rest my aching feet and tired calves. But life is never fair, all people want, is to be served and obeyed, like I'm a primitive Robot with no artificial intelligence in my blueprint. I'm living, no sorry, existing and I can't stand my life right now. And these busybodies won't let me be. They have the guts to ask my, why I look old, why I used up so much water, why I wear a bra under my swim suit. The number one problem, is that they won't mind their business. Number two is that I need to be faster and more into it, than I appear. I mean into people, I seem not to be able to care for them or any being. Liars, them all, but what about me and my thoughts and utterances.
Do you know, what I said to a seven year old girl?
I asked, 'sexy', a child, how she was doing and said she was fine, as in Beautiful. The exact words my pump said to me as a child. The lies, he told, that entrapped me forever. This Takwa Bay is my funeral and my resurrection. The child's mother corrects me and reminds me, how inappropriate I sound. I actually sound like I was auditioning her to join my shameful profession. I am ashamed that I have to negotiate my going rate with this amoeba looking white man, this formless black man, with hair on his neck and stomach. I am ashamed that, I have to ask my pimp, if we should accept his tacky offer. Why I use the word 'we', is pathetic. There is nothing my pimp, does but to keep the other greedy sea urchins, from trying to defile me. Which I can do myself, normally. But this Takwa Bay is different, the ratio of men to women is about thirty to one. How do you win? You don't for now, instead, you buy a cheap cigarette from the aboki and joke about, what we would do, when we outnumber men.
 So, even though, the child has gone with her mother, I hopelessly try to catch the mother's friend. Hoping she swings both way, I tell her that I can help her take her selfies. She feigns a smile and rejects my offer. And when her friend returned, they move away quickly, afraid I will infect the seven year old with my pathetic path. Finally, I light the cigarette and wave my fake nails about and crack derogatory joke. I over hear the friend, grumble about our defiance, about how we negotiate openly, while families, walk on by. And hear her try to catch the name and name our desperation, our debuchery.
 Finally, on my last puff before the customer takes me away, into the waters to test the transaction, I hear the words she picked. Prostitutes And Pimp's Negotiate Admist Troubled Takwa Bay Waters, and I agree and ray someone reads this and ends my nightmare.
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Saturday, 4 March 2017

A Voodoo Priest, Fifty Thousand Euro's And A Prison of The Mind


"ADE'S JOURNAL", 6

     A single seed can yield a large crop and fill the farmland with hopes of a great harvest. Unless, it's eaten by rats, dug out by Grasscutters or devoured by soldier ants, rummaging to feed it's young. That's how it all seems, right now. When pawns, go out there, blind and brainwashed, anything can happen. And when the chaos of, no power supply, no means of furthering ones education, plagues her mind. Then she is susceptible to any and everything. The knight, disguised as a queen, comes like a thief in the night. Only, she is brandishing, topnotch, Italian leather shoes and bags. Her neck is heavy from the gold, worth a million Naira. And the lavish party she throws, feeds the hungry children. The spotlight is on her and the decorations in the hall is majestic. There are tales of victory abroad, the place, you get your money's worth in dollars. There are handouts, second hand shoes and clothing, all accepted with a grateful heart, a naive mind. Yes, she bites hard at the bait, dangling in front of her and the hook, curved and sharp, has sunk in deep, it's too late now to wriggle out of this mess. It has eaten into her brain and she is caught in a trap. The lies, sounds like the truth, right now. No education needed, nothing, all she has to do, is, say yes. The question was posed, night and day, the belief in a higher power will make this work. The devil will try to steal your victory, try to get you deported. The only way, to stay on the sides of the angels, is to do as you are told. So, in broad daylight, we are smuggled, like contraband goods, we cross deserts and rough waters. And as she arrives, the meals are fit for royalty. Prim and proper women and men, groom and tame Thier locks and wax their private corners. Only wild animals go ungroomed, the Queen announced.
  I tried to talk to the girls pampering me and heard her cry quietly, silently. She twitched and walked awkwardly, like there were thorn's between her legs. I asked her about it, and the Queen, cut her off and said she was loose and lazy. The young girl broke down and cried. She was carried away, crying and sobbing, begging us to speak out and fight the snake's lies. A tingling sensation creeped up the back of my neck. That thought, that said this offer was too good to be true. The lie the Queen sold, was that, we would be housemaids. Now, I was not so sure. Then all the dynamics changed, they entered with a large turkey. It was bejeweled and pruned, just like us. Bulky men in white, guard the door, then bring out daggers. Another warning, sipped into my gullible mind. Could we, be spare parts for these Europeans? No, the laws would protect us, I tell myself. Screams fill the room and then the men slice their own chest and start to chant. Their rituals, made us hubble and cuddle up together, both young girls and boys. The priest enters, he smelled bad, like stale blood. He grabs the adorned large turkey and Yanks off its head. The blood spilled and I started to cry. This is not the European dream, I was sold. Then the priest, opened the pouch around his body, its shape looked familiar but I refuse to think in that line of thought. Her eyes were still open and the tears still flowed. We screamed and pushed each other and I cried for my naive gullible mother that put me in this mess. For now, we were told how much we owed and shown the price for whistle blowing. A Voodoo Priest, Fifty Thousand Euro's And A Prison of The Mind.
Two thousand men later, in, under six months and I am that girl. I have accepted that death is better than this hell. I watch the fresh young Nigerian girls, twenty and two boys smile and compare jewelry. A naive girl, I dutifully, stretch her virgin hair, asks me as I try to unlock her tight curls. Why are you crying quietly? I am tired of lying and waiting and the wound between my legs burn like acid. I scream and tell them to run, I show them my neckline, where they will behead me. And tell them that the thing that looks like a turkey, is actually a well feed chicken. I begged them to end this circle and I am about to show them my unrecoverable private... When I am knocked hard in the head. Their fear is real and as the bodyguards appear, I pray to God Almighty to forgive me for been desperate and greedy. For wanting to outshine the educated, back home in Nigeria and for wanting to be the richest amongst my friends. I cannot speak, my head hurts and this time, they do not kill the chicken. Instead I am forced to the ground and the priest, who is actually a butcher by profession, swings his large Arabia dagger. The doors are broken and gun shots ring out, as armed Austrian special human trafficking police squads, race in. I still do not move my head, from the cold floor. You are fine, you are free, you will be alright, they say and echoes all around the room. I shut my eyes and open them. To my surprise, they are right, but how do I break this desperate circle of denial and lies, sold to the poor and desperate?
 
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