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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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Friday, 30 June 2017

Is It Me


"ADE'S JOURNAL", 40

     Spying on pale pink and peach, sweet flavors of peace. Lining the edge of a beautiful tree, with the backdrop of a vast sky blue sky. Climbing and clawing at a past, long gone with vast leaps of missing time, crunched and dumped into a well. The deep one that rumors swam and told of a mammy water trapped at tge bottom. By the sudden trappings of a river trapped, by modern structures, vast. Cut off from a family she dreamed of, locked out from a dream in her grasps. How cruel the future is, swaying her perfect hips and puckered lips. Oh, how much I would change, with a whisper from this cruel future. Smelling sweet with chemical lies. That screamed as I heard my echoes bounce back at me. With my skinny frame as a child, leaning down into the abandoned well on Ekenwa road. Reaching down to a silver surface, reflecting a cool sun. Like crystals bouncing off glass, they entice and pull me down. Deep into a pretty world as all my friends laugh at my imagination. Almost, I begin to doubt myself and loose hope. And then I see her perfect fin, her Beautiful dark skin glows and her babyish smile invites me.
Come down to us, she said. And I look back at my tiny friends, the boy I loved to swing high and jump out of swings from. And the girl I like to play ten-ten with. Well, all the kids love to play ten-ten with me. My energy s unmatched and my joy unquenchable. And don't let me start with my defiance, with me respectfully disobeying grown ups. Rumors of defiant kids falling in the well and been lost in the water world for life. Scared others, but for me, it was always my lost world. And this recurring dream had to happen. Even though I'd miss my siblings. Not daddy so much, he's on course all the time. Mummy is worse, my restlessness drives her crazy and she really can't deal with my almost permanent adrenaline rush. No I don't blame anyone them, but I want so much more. I want to swim with the gods of old, goddesses of the rivers, lakes, lagoons and seas. I want to skate on icy raindrops in Lagos state and run on molten volcanoes in Gongola state. I'm closer now, almost touching her side fins. She blows me a kiss and should i have said no knowing she would have let go. Sweet life, we'll go further. Wont miss the world as we bow out and swim the world together. But I feel grown ups pull at my feet and fragment back to this boring world on land. I struggle and Fight to hold onto her fins and she whispers a quiet sssshhh. We will meet again little princess, just let go. I sniff and cry and then let go. But only when i am sure, we will meet again.
 Thinking about that late morning and the high fever they claim I had. I know it's all a distant memory...
One that only a dream can bridge the gap between my silver finned friends....
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Wednesday, 28 June 2017

The Earthworm Grew And Extended It's Reach


"ADE'S JOURNAL", 39

     Screeching sliding Blues, left behind by hues and then made her brand new. The Queen is not yet made, the princess is far away. With her mind long gone astray, her dreams now she can touch . As she sighs at a reflection of herself in the shallow murky waters. Left behind by an angry rain, Drowning away the sorrows of a lost colony. She tried to be grateful that she survived the harsh winds, the turgid waters and the mudslide. Ten segments of crystal abdomen covered in mud thrusts until I am safe. A smile crept up her face, as she realized the competition was easier now. A little ashamed of her selfish thoughts, she sunk deeper into her shy self. Life is cruel and a minute silence for her fallen comrades made her sigh. As broken people surrounded her and looked up to her guilt ridden face. No time for remorse or glory, this hive has no choice but to get up and rebuild itself, one termite at a time. The smell of wood that has grown, lived and died, oozed past the layers of soil not far from here. The soil had sipped into it and the decay had started. A castle of hopes and dreams they have started to build. Clay, swear and blood mingle and with dead soldiers, workers and care takers.
I can taste new life already, all the young babies I birth, lifted high, as they are carried into the massive nursery. Each baby, bathe in my rich DNA. The new generation, not from a pampered weakened race. But from a strong female, a fighter with remorse, a soldier that rose from the ranks and became Queen. This Swaying indigo, above my head, shields me from the direct sunlight. It’s a fellow comrade, spotting a direct sun Ray, burning and heading my way. She dived just in time to save me and her ash is scattered by others diving and shielding me with swaying indigo’s. The sun rays divert their attention from us and seek other colonies to destroy. I raise my head up high as the taste of victory returned. The smell of charged indigo flower petals calm my nerves and in turn, the troubled hive heaves a sigh of relief.
I feel their pain cause i love them, those that have laid down their lives for me. I will birth for my hive, millions of eggs that will become nymphs and become one of the millions of my people. My talk is expensive and others buy into it. Abandoning their tiny hundred thousand strong hive to build mine.
Rhino’s surround me and prepare for battle, as tertiary and secondary queens kick ad bite. I bite back and fight back. My alliance with my new nestmates is forged and formed as blood spews and travels. The air is saturated with toxic dangerous spray and sticky moist liquid that land and form chewing gum like trap. Some ants are attracted by our blood and start to pick up and carnibalize on our injured and dead. I refuse to watch and ignore this horror. So I whistle and scream and order everyone to stop and face our mutual enemies. We fight and retreat as our soldiers destroy them our workers build our best. I start to emit the chemical to end the weaker men’s fertility and boost the strongest. One hour later my best is built on the foundation of a thousand nest. It started out as a Sweet blunder and now I am Queen to People who want me to rule. I have stepped up to the challenges before me and the world is mine to behold.

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Saturday, 24 June 2017

Blue Brewed Blew Bloom


"ADE'S JOURNAL", 38

  Beside a Spirogyra lake, grew a flower hedge. The yellow blossoms thrived and the thick green leaves clustered together. It was a rich garden that looked good. But beneath the branches, was an army of giant snails, breeding and feeding on the young shots below. The carcasses of dead leaves, TD a different story. And in-between the branches, weeds grew....
Blue Brewed Blew Bloom expanded and choked the stronger trees. The soil was under pressure and the rains drowned the trees. But the Gardner, ignored the signs. The harmful smell of weed repellant, he could do without. The snails that thrives, climbed out to the surface when mature and made his wife happy with its succulent tastes. This was no garden of Eden, it was a garden of doom. Soon to be an array of leafless branches with dried snap twigs. And the empty shells of snails that never made it to maturity, line the roots of death. A reminder of life ignored, untamed, unmaimed, shinning like silk on a damask curtain. A support cushion for a blooming weed, bright blue with yellow anthers on sticky filaments. Attracting Everything to it, s that the life of the destroyer continues as it searches for its next plant colony to destroy. Enticing it's protectors with gifts of giant snails to ensure its survival in this cruel, cruel world. A true beauty and a beast....
    

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Tuesday, 20 June 2017

Kneel Down, Hands Up And Face The Wall


"ADE'S JOURNAL', 37

    If Only I Could Win, then my life would be like a sword penetrating deep
within me. Through pain and tears, it hurts, revealing all that they said i'd never be.
 This year, because I did not earn like they did. If only i could breath, i'll sing from the bottom of my passions little heart. Never to succumb, like a bird that hit rock bottom
after falling free. Oh, if only i could win
i'll show them that my river is worth more than my liver. How I disappoint and turned to rot by the drugs pumped into me to help me heal.
  I fight jump on my two hind heels and I'm grateful I have enough fuel to sustain me as I fight. I'm fighting for my right to exist, to live and survive. The world watched and just did nothing. It's a fight that would get nowhere. She will be bruised and battered and learn her place. But I refuse to quit and leap and peck at my attacker. Even if I don't win, I would leave my mark.
My claws scratch like claws from a lioness, slicing and wounding this being that would not let me be.
  The chicken was defiant and refused to bow out of a defeated battle. No shaking, I chuckled as I surprise onlookers. This small voluptuous hen pecked and pulled at his oversized comb. It was bleeding and attracting an audience of busybody flies.
This was never my plan for where I call home. Obviously, there's something wrong. I begin to tire and suddenly, I don't feel strong. I feel as if My legs will give way. But I can't just stop, I must fight to the end.
I cry out and for the first time in a long time. It sounds like I'm not alone,
I hear myself grunting. Shadows of many me, cheer me on and tell me to stand up straight. The flood of defeat is gone and i grab short stout feathers all around the puffed up lazy cocks throat. My life has begun to expand as I feel her hearty and alive. He is bowing down, under my bloody beak. Crowing and crying to be released. Impressed by my bravery and spark. Sure that now, my success in everything I do would never leave me.
As he leaves, the predator spies a innocent chicks, watching to see who he can brainwash. I tell all who can hear to listen. But I know that each lesson has to be self taught. Each fake love has to be self weeded out. Each dream crusher, disguised as friends, has to be fought and chased out. The repeat offender pretends not to see me, as he crossed over into another compound. Searching for innocent chickens to deceive. Underneath his long feathers hides his mini bucket of sweet ketchup and foil paper to place his victims on......
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Saturday, 17 June 2017

Ransom Paid And The Lies They Sell


"ADE'S JOURNAL", 36

      The Vast Lagoon leads to an open Atlantic Ocean, with the occasional shipping containers bringing luxury goods into the state called Lagos. The evil marketer sees the vast emptiness and raised the greedy bastards hopes of false promises. Profit is the name of the game, driven by his commission on the lives that will be drowned in the sea or boiled in the desert. A million Dollars was HS price for the lives he snatched from their school, that is Four hundred million naira to be exact. And an average of fourty million Naira per person to build a falsehood of making it to the land of milk and honey. He tells them that they will not be caught but the school is a tuition free school. Only boarding house students pay, from the torture of Biko Haram in the North and the wicked inflictions from kidnappers in the South. Where and when will the children of the most populous nation in Africa ever know peace?
 The poor parents raised a million Naira, from selling homes the only legacy they could leave their children, the only way they could free their babies. From the monsters that plague the Lagos waters, as the rest of the world watched.
Ransom Paid And The Lies They Sell, has been exposed. The children are not back home and the world still watched on. Are they alive, are we safe? What was the essence of registering phones, when they can't be traced. Their boss was caught with high tech phones each worth twenty three million Naira, how can we catch them before it is to late. Children snatched from schools, travellers shot at, for trying to make a living or going back home to family. It's a disgusting future that needs to change, Family values need to return with moral values upheld. This culture of respecting money has eroded our humanity, but even animals have their rules of engagement unless they are rabid infested and then must be put down. One way or another and as soon as possible. The genesis of it all is a power supply that does not work, for if it does we can track, film and see the faces of these rabid beasts....
   The journey back home was quiet because I didn't want to go back home. The village life was how as a child I imagined been empowered and rich I would be as a grown up. Organic food and spring water all day everyday.
'We will live it, just give us five years'
'We can sell it all and move'
'And our babies health and our security?'
    Paradise is beautiful, but who protects it?
It was a legitimate question and I thought about it. The illegal armed herds men, roaming with AK 47's, the hidden Eden uncovered and tried to be coveted by jealous illegal aliens. Nigeria was more complicated than it looked, especially for remote places with sweet welcoming people.
'Yo can't tell me that they can't protect themselves'
'They can but with how much force? I want to be sure a battalion of police and military can protect us'
'Me too'
 And I rest my head and fall into a deep slumber.

 Home at last, I put on my phone, you will be surprised by how little I missed my phone.

  As we drive into our compound, I see a tired looking Celine stagger towards her car. Henrik parks the car and I run to catch her.
'What's wrong?'
 She pulls the back of the gown to show me what was wrong. It was stained with blood, Celine was bleeding.
'Why didn't you call a cab'
'I did, I got tired of waiting'
 Henrik helped her into the car and then we drove straight to the hospital.

  God please protect Celine and her baby, I prayed as I kept glancing back to see if she was still awake. Celine looked exhausted and was still bleeding, I called my doctor and he assured me they were waiting for us.

 Lord have mercy eh, which kind wahala be this?







**Season 2, Episode 36**
*"ADE'S JOURNAL", 36, COPYRIGHT 2017*
**BUSOLA ELEGBEDE COPYRIGHT 2017**
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Wednesday, 14 June 2017

For A Peck


"ADE'S JOURNAL" 35

       At noon decaying pungent smell of life clustered around. The winds spread out our screams, Soldier ants fed on our long limbs and fins, lost by reptiles crawling on wings. We birth here and died here, on a dry dusty road to fame. Longing to adorn jewelry rivaling Queens and Kings of old.
For our paths have never crossed with frozen ice thawing and flowing down a molten lake lost in laughter, beneath a young ìrókò shoot. With my heart whispering to my knees to stand erect as I  crawl out of mud and larva. Caked on the plastered smile frozen on my hairy face.
 I know why the wind blows and like a drunken webbed winged mouth lizard, shoving and viberate g as the sand particles give way and bury me from the heat. I just freeze and cry as my weakling heart stops staring hard at those Hyena Teeth. Watching them as chaos bites and brings with it flesh eating bacteria.
The pain stays it never goes as my bones stay intact. You rub me out and Try to fish me out as I bruise your skin, Until it just peels out. You can't win by fighting, know this.... You'll be struck by lightning. Relax i say and just squint. It'll be like you just blinked. I'm out again, I'm on my way. Far away from the jaws that munch and crush me. ForWherever the wind blows Is where I call home.
  At dusk delaying bland aroma of death floated below. The tear drops drowned our laughter, And the termites feasted on our sorrows. We loved here and lost here, For our life was forever gone but never again. We danced in the morning time, beneath frozen lake surfaces. With thundering tools, swimming underneath the Earth's molten core.
  At dawn patrolling sweet whiffs of gain sinking above.The rage soothed our faces swallowed our tears,. And the bees knitted our honey hives.We fought here and won here, For our love was forever here to stay. Bath us with bliss and soil in our growing new world. Dancing your way to block a lazy moon, Scorching curious eyes that dare to dare Make marvel at your beautiful metals Surrounding a dark spherical blissful abyss. Your daughter spreads your words From Nigeria with lots of love.
Standing tall drunk on Love's Feeling the life pierce my feet as it Grants a meal to you stranger. Cannot believe you would estrange her. Swaying in a carriage
Choked up by marriage. To a new world Forced upon me Shackled by memories
Of pain and anguish. Now faded and stampeded By my new found abode. .
 The joys of this world are not complicated, they are subtle and bring a natural smile o your face. I never imagined I was stressed out by all the demands from living in the city called Lagos. Until I gave it a well deserved break.
 Remember I told you Henrik was acting like a jealous lover. He didn't want to share my time with anyone else and I did not think it was a reasonable request.
But for peace sake, I let him have his way and listen. You know the worst part, he didn't say much. So I started to sound like a nagging wife struggling to get information from my husband who's lips were sealed.
  Exhausted, I decided to take a nap and then I felt it.
It was as if I was on one of those dangerous American roller coaster ride and thrown off. Henrik squeezed my thighs and holds me in place, because I was about to run for my life.
 Guess where I was? On our Nigerian road route to Abuja. The pot hole almost broke the shaft of our SUV and my darling husband apologized.
'Where are we going?'
'To Ogun State'
'It looks like an Abuja route...'
'Five it time, you will recognize the road'
   I look left and right and see the famous road safety blue building. He was right and I relaxed a bit. The drive was a long one and I reminded him to move his feet in circles to keep the blood flowing. I do not want any risk if pulmonary embolism or deep vein thrombosis.
  The route got very remote and scary but my husband was calm.
'Where are we going?'
'To remember'
'Remember what?'
'You will see'
   The air was fresh and calm and we drove past a natural spring. My head was out of the window admiring and watching a young man fetch water from it.
'Is this where the Oto's stay?'
'So you listen to me', Henrik was surprised.
'I remember you said it's where your dad met your mum after two year's'
'Her friend recommended it and it's nature and it's best'
 I smiled at the dark skinned beauty walking up towards us.
'You look like your father's, she announced and I almost asked which creme keeps her skin so even and glowing.
'And this is Ade....'
 I step out as Henrik opens the door for me.
'Good afternoon Ma'am
 She greets me with a hug and I can smell sweet pineapples.
'Fresh from my backyard, I too had hightened taste and smell when I was pregnant'
 I hug my baby bump and giggled, I already love her.
'Yemi, go and prepare fresh goat for our guests'
 A strong athletic man appeared and leads the way.
'My last born, soon to be married to a lady that wants to live beside us'
 The daughter in-law appeared.
'Do you blame me, all the sounds of generator sets and fumes, has almost killed me. I need at least three years away'
 I stared at her and wanted to ask about work.
'We are growing fresh organic fruits and vegetables to supply the top bankers that she used to count money for'
'How did you meet?'
'I went to her bank to make payments for the certificate of occupancy for this land'
'And he brought fruits that tasted like my childhood.... I had to see his paradise'
'Not paradise, just far from technology and advancement. A country or should I say village home'
'It's Beautiful', I add admiring their simplicity and closeness to nature.
'You should have come sooner...'
 The dark skinned Beautiful grandmother announced, as Henrik prostrates and greets her.
'I know'
'Come, let's go and meet my husband'
 As I watch them all so happy and content, I look at my smart phone.
'No, just give us today'
 I laugh and surrender my phone's and relaxed in the cane chair. It felt so comfortable and nice, I smiled at Henrik and squeezed his hands.
'Thirsty?'
 I nod my head as her husband offers me some spring water. It tastes like a dream and as I shut my eyes I almost laugh.
 My audience was laughing.
'Everyone has the same reaction'
'It's the absence of chemicals, it's like a distance memory and actually delicious'
'Wait until you taste the goat meat', Henrik announced.
 They had tales of children leaving and coming back and I just smiled so much that my cheeks ached.
 Alone at night I hug my best friend and say the words I never thought I would ever say.
'I don't want to go back home'
'It's a temporary feeling...'
'Only because I have job commitments'
'It's a great reminder of what is precious'
'You will always be precious to me'
 We hug and I feel at home in his arms, it's the best gift ever.



  It's good to be calm, that stern face might just have a warm surprise waiting for you.
  This is by far the best time I've shared with my Bobo.... Make time out to build Beautiful memories with everyone you love, today, now and now ...






**Season 2, Episode 35**
*"ADE'S JOURNAL", 35, COPYRIGHT 2017*
**BUSOLA ELEGBEDE, COPYRIGHT 2017**
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Saturday, 10 June 2017

And The Bees Knitted Our Honey Hives


"ADE'S JOURNAL", 34

     Standing tall and drunk on loves fake lure, until I Cannot forget how your kind eyed feel. How easily I keep falling for your lies. Making me watch you turn to flies.
Today I’ve drifted far away from you and I am a better person because of it.
Tomorrow I’m gifted, Now I have found you
Lost in my own face. Sometimes I am Embraced by you and cloaked up by grace. Knowing with you there is no longer anymore race.
Realizing that is this our fake Life would be over soon, if we don't do something now.
Never will it be that isn’t
Flowers mimic her cobwebs
Even though you can’t tell her
 Pawpaw’s crawl up her neck
As he waited patiently for a peck
Seagulls marked her present
As rigors barked up his spine
She smiled like twin peak
He whined and missed me
Strutting gracefully like ostriches
Plucking hungrily across ridges
Ripe apples sweet and yellow
life attitudes weep and jump
Remembering soft winds from her lungs
While shuffling on streets with prongs
Transported high above
Attracted down below
Until we’ve circled the globe
Gentle ample winds and glow
How badly do you want what you want
Success is a Journey and this means there's no final bus stop, just a series of Land marks we celebrate when we reach these treasured spots.
So celebrate your little victories but remember it's only just begun
  I’ll say it again, Be Positive, It’s Possible. 
It sounds so simple and straight forward right?
Well the good news is that it is.
After years of trying many things and stumbling, 
this simple phrase has lifted me off the ground 
and helped me to focus on my real goal 
which is to genuinely succeed. 
I’m sure like me you expect things to be 
complicated but the truth is that it isn’t. 
So let’s start with where you are.
Your Achievements so far......
Your core Values now...........
What you are passionate about...
How much you earn
How much more you want to earn
How badly do you want to change you life
Do you want to change it.... Now, Tomorrow or Later
What you do now determines where you will be in the future
Your past decisions brought you here, do you believe that
So make a decision now
Get a clean fresh book (not just a piece of paper)
Write down what you want to change n your life
Write down the changes
Write down what you need to do to accomplish the change
Write down the strategy and path you will take to get there
Write down how long it will take you
Sub divide the steps into: Days, Weeks, Months and Year/ Years
Write todays date on the top right hand corner of your note book
Take action now
Have your: Daily, Weekly, Monthly and Year/ Yearly Goals
Cross check your achievements on a Weekly Basis
Change what isnt working
Improve on what kind of works
Repeat what works
And remember to 
Stop at the end of the Week and Think
New Ideas will come but they only work when you TAKE ACTION
I love you all. The latest Queen of the hive buzzes and tells all who care to listen.
See you at the Top of our Fields....

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Wednesday, 7 June 2017

The Murder Of Ignorance Goes Unnoticed


"ADE'S JOURNAL", 33

   The hive thrives because it believes in hope, the Queen is fertile because she feeds her hosts. The land is bleeding because it is lost in hope, yet a few stray away. Never afraid of the stories of large bees invading vulnerable youngsters. Soon I too will be Queen and rule my kingdom.
 For now let's leave my fantasy world alone and just come back down to planet Earth. I have heard many stories about people trying to cross into Europe. In fact, any time I hear people brag about been abroad, I wonder. But that's just naive me wondering, I don't know anyone dumb enough to risk their lives like that. I only know smart, enlightened people thank God for that.
I am lucky that I am not one of them, floating on a raft to nowhere or stranded in a truck in a desert. My enlightened uncle is here telling us stories about his unfortunate friends. Mugus that could not do their due diligence. As I sit and wrap moi moi leaves over bean cakes. This time, it has fish and crayfish courtesy my rich uncle. I imagine and really try to imagine why he was been so nice to my mum. His tales drowned those thoughts as I laughed at the girl that refused to marry him. He told us that she tried to swim to the shores of Spain from Morroco. By some miracle, she made it across. She only lived there for two days and then she was deported back home.
   If only I had waited to taste for one last time my mother's sweet moi moi. Or stood my ground when I suspected foul play.
My uncle cut his hilarious stories short, he had a travel permit for me and an opportunity of a lifetime. He too was going with me, so I would be safe.
My gut feeling said no and I cried and begged my parents to let me stay. But the cash was ready and the debts too many. The loan sharks had heard that my rich uncle was around, so came to collect.
  My uncle looked at me and gave me the money. The choice was mine, watch them beat my father up again or pay up. The men where large and their muscles thick, there were rumors of them feasting on debtors and many of the debtors getting missing didn't help matters. I give my mother the money, she is old enough to decide and she gives my father who in turn pays up.
The thugs leave quietly and my mother hugs my father but the old bruises still hurt. I did not even have time to bask in the Beautiful brief show of affection my parents granted me.
      We leave now.
  Deceived by money starved merchants, lazy twats that feast on naive men and women. The gathering of the starving innocents, fueled with lies by buoyant human traffickers. Selling lies about jobs available in other African war torn countries. Telling lies about Europe been just a mile of the shores of Morroco and Gambia. The uneducated fools don't even know where Gambia is on the map, the educated illiterate tells himself he has an advantage and would find his way when he gets there. The trucks leave the north east with women and children promised work. The trailers leave the east with young men searching for glory and in the south large containers filled with frustrated youths head for a greener pasture.
  The money has exchanged hands and the human traffickers look even richer, some have borrowed money to pay and others sold their souls for a chance to escape.
My uncle found it all funny and made me swear not to tell my parents we were traveling illegally. Don't worry, when we make cool Euros all these will be a distant dream.
 The desert is not kind and most die of thirst on the perilous journey. Others are well equipped and prepared, but the driver in the middle of no where has stopped. Guns spew out bullets and knives slice the necks of those that survive. It is like a bad dream as I stare at the jerking body of my father's brother. The young girls with me are wailing and are dragged and we sold to sex traffickers. Not the type that want sexual pleasures. The worse kind, the ones that treat donkey's better than humans. The type that slice and kill their victims for sport. I watch as my older neighbour is raped bound and ripped apart by metal chains. These are not human beings, these are demons masquerading as men. It is indeed a cruel world to be female, I think as the tears from my eyes dry up. I am shoved into a room with little boys crying and mutilated. The demons did not discriminate, as long as the people where illegal immigrants they were fair game. From the tiny window in the silo we were hidden, I dared to peep as the other children begged me not to. They point at a smelling decaying child in a corner, a boy missing his eye sockets. I burst out crying and cover my mouth. He was almost dead, yet they still toyed with him.
 Is there no way to let our families know that we are been manhandled. That we are dying here? Maybe they sell us so we are no longer a financial burden to them. One girl whispered, I don't think that is it. They borrow money to get us a better life and instead sell us to the grim reaper. Merchants of death. I would rather die than let those pigs touch me again, so I peep and see a woman. She is veiled up and pretty and serves the men food and tea. They look happy and normal, until they kick her and pour the hot tea on her face. Crying she picks up the kettle and leaves and a girl serves them and they smile.
Too old, a girl tells me, once you get too old, you die. I think of home and the wild vegetables we eat, the frogs that we roast during the raining season and the garri we eat when we harvest cassava. These are the good days but on bad days we drink water until our bellies are full and sleep off the hunger pangs. Those days are better than these, here I have no human rights and I am dehydrated. The eyeless boy has stopped moving now, he is dead. Swelling and swelling and soon he would burst. None of us cry, we expect to die and count him lucky. This hive I am in, has no Queen, no rule of law, no family unit. We are injured baby zebras, stuck in a hole with rabid hyenas. No one will find us and no one would care, this greener pasture grows green with our carcuses. When will this nightmare end?
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Saturday, 3 June 2017

When his ears popped i stopped screaming


"ADE'S JOURNAL", 32

Where his lies stopped Mine began and When his ears popped then, i stopped screaming. When his nectar got sour yes, i knew i had to be sweet. And When my smiles stopped that is precisely when mine began. This year ran as if someone was chasing it and all my dreams scatter like balloons in the wind. Already more than forty eight posts and counting. The goal ISA hundred and four per year.
What a Despair, what unholy pressure I place on my green green self.
I've managed to make alien, the forest I call my own. These trees, now an uncountable flight of stairs up my ladder of success.
I've climbed and I will get there, truth be told I'm exhausted and hungry.
The Disdain I feel I can no longer hide.
My simple portion is no longer enough, how I miss the harem of men I once enjoyed. Delicious young men I devoured as the pleasures of the world flew by. Just look at that young man eyeing me, he does not know the portion of pain awaiting him.
This plane wants to take off and flee, instead I flatter and spread my wings. 
I own my flattery as i accept his lustful gaze, life must go on. He has heard the tales of my escapades and approaches with caution.
And I have starved myself of my very nature , Knowing my flight
has just taken off.
I've made it to the tree where I begin Decoding Miracles. With the carcuses of my men Nurturing this tree I climb on.
I long for it, I wait for it as life creeps past us. And as I dream of a better life with no casualties. I pray for it and wailed for it.
This Life that is a miracle for those of us who grasp it. I frown with rage as I grab the cage. His warm embrace wakes up lustful desires and my flesh is weak.
Life is unfair for I who has abstained and refused to bloom with it. Is now caught in this tragedy I call my life.
We move like zombies as if we are stuck in a sensual movie. I can taste the urge climbing into my jaws as he prepares to give me the next generation of liars. I'm tired of Decoding Miracles, Tired of the spectacles.
Forever i am here to stay he said, moved by desire.
We played in nothing, beneath an angry raging sky, spewing out rain over and over again. My jaws unhinged and my claws dug deep and drove him mad with desire.
And then I sunk my teeth into his scalp and chewed. He was too busy enjoying the sins of the flesh to know that this female praying mantis was feasting on his flesh. I have finished half of his head and he is still performing his duties. As the children rush to become part of me, he dies. And that which I have delayed, the inevitable is done. Oh what a beautiful life we all lead as despair spews out from my praying eyes....
 
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Busola Elegbede
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