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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

Friday, 27 April 2018

Whispers Of Words


"ADE'S JOURNAL", 22

  Whispers Of Words and thoughts I long to share, please pass and hug me dear. The impact of shock and my despair, merely make me know that I am yet to comprehend.
It's a poetic verse I know, more like an ode to you my dear. This month was filled with fear and scares of things I won't even dare. The stupid game of truth and dare, made me relive my sin and quake in fear. But I own my mistakes and raise my head my dear, because this life we hide when people know we are scared. I will say my truth my dear, I miss you breathing close to me here. I wouldn't try to replace your sweetened air, only get close to others so I can be heard. I'm crying because I hear, that soon I won't miss you my dear. But I know it's all lies and I will be honest right here. My best friend faded only decades ago and guess what? I still miss her, like it was a moment ago.
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Busola Elegbede
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Packed In Little Packages


"ADE'S JOURNAL", 21

  Packed in little packages are the thoughts I have of you today. Slow and steady I tell you does not always win the race. It's a long hard marathon, this Journey I have embarked upon. And as I wish you all the best, I ask you to pucker up and prepare and then just be ready. Because this is a long hard road and as you travel, you must be willing to roll down and tumble. Get bruised and be ridiculed, but do not falter and do not listen to them. You have your eyes on your goals and be stronger and rise again. Only those that endure make it to the finish line and don't just tell the story of how dreams almost became reality. This time my dear you will love it and taste it and enjoy all of it. Ssshhh, you are almost there.
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Saturday, 21 April 2018

Beautiful Blossoms And A Brand New Way


"ADE'S JOURNAL", 20

   Knock on my head again and you will see what I will do to you. Crawl up my many hair springing up and standing at attention  and I will crush those your spiny little limbs. Stay where you are, very far from where I want to be. But don't stop for me or think of me, because I have no room for you. My friend stuck in a black hole the world calls friendship zone. Just stop your superstitious belief that I will magically be yours and no. Don't buy into the bullshit that I am somehow now, brainwashed into thinking you are now appealing. There is no way on earth I will ever give you a chance. You are only the simple honey bee in my way and this African hornet is hungry. And the only thing I want to taste is the delicious goodies dripping from freshly honed wax. Not yours, not ever. Only the one from the hexagonal home of a survivor, one that survives our hives massacre. If any of you does, and as I taste the freshness of the nectar flavor in the honey... My wingspan increases as I dance the victory dance to the beat. Like I expected, no one survived.
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Wednesday, 18 April 2018

Turtle Necked Suited Suitor


"ADE'S JOURNAL", 19

     The root of all things reveals much more than its blossoms or its fruits. To see the flat dark brown twin casing, hiding within its protruding hollow roots and petals from its Beautiful flowers littered around it. A botanist whispered in my ears about dwarfs, a name close to the hybrid car and van... The Sienna and bragged about the tree also native to Florida. I had no clue what she was talking about, so I asked and listened closely. She did say dwarf and kind of point and then I raised my eyebrows. Its a Dwarf Poinciana tree, Caesalpinia pulcherrima. The botanical name, I was sure I would not remember. But the dwarf poinciana tree, stays fresh on my mind and will be the picture that adds colour to my dreams.
 Reminds me of my colourful childhood and fun filled adventures in Kaduna. Not too far from my favorite tree is the gully that haunts my dreams. A place I wanted to slide down as a child and just go on my adventure for life. This limestone plagued gully erosion maze, lies not too far from my childhood home in the military base I grew up in. The same one where an owl found its way into our water tank and delayed my bath for the first time since I could hold a memory. That was during the day, it took forever for plumbers to clean and clear the tank. I didn't complain, I had three siblings keeping me busy. We count all the stair cases in the house and each revolution of the fans. Imagined we were flying from the top of the stairs, down to an angry sea. Pretended to be chefs, as I trained my sous chefs on what and how to prepare meals. Even though, in the real world the meal was just bread and butter with sliced boiled eggs. We try to spin like Olympic ice skaters and as the world's horizon, swayed and tilts like sludge trapped in a small glass globe. We all collapse on the floor as it swayed some more and then goes back to its original horizontal plane. Not showering early morning during the holidays, I wish more owls would choose our water tankers as their final resting place. I seriously doubt it though, because I heard my mum telling them to get a new water tank. This time it would have a lid which will be screwed down, unlike the former one that was shut like a gift box lid.
And now, finally i had a bath. Not joyfully, but with a lot of grumbling and complaining. I truly believed that as first born, I should get to choose to do a lot of stuff first. Instead my mum and dad made me have a bath first and be punished first. Oh well, that was just my morning. Just after dinner time, I had captured and relocated ten antlions and as giant bugs slammed into our florescent lights at night. I quickly grab them and place them in mesh containers that used to contain candy. My sister did not mind the antlions but winged insects freaked her out. So my bug adventure were always with our neighbors. Boys that tried to catch up with my love for nature and my curiosity about worms and ants  I loved my time as a child, I was fearless and free and borderless and like a comic book blurring images, to show flash backs. My dream fades and I wake up...
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Saturday, 14 April 2018

Learn What Love Means


"ADE'S JOURNAL", 18

    The dust coughs and jumps off a cracked earth, just as whirlwinds dance and hop in spiral springs of cold winds with uneven shades hues of shades of minute pebbles. The rush of sandy solid cold winds slice into my warm moist serrated body, annoyed and gingered me to do more. Much more to stay warm and crawl quickly out of the reach of predators and stray prey. All now place me in the line of falling debree and harm and on a dangerous path. If only this storm would come in tomorrow and let me go into my cocoon state. If only I was already in my cocoon state, a tired bird swarms down and almost pecks at my delicate exterior. I shoot at it with my porcupine like poisonous armor. Irritated, it uses its wings to try to pry off the dangerous poisonous darts I defend myself with. Instead it slams into a strange forest wall and is picked up by giants. I suddenly loose the need to run, instead I crawl to the corner of any usually smooth looking branch and start to build. And as I encase myself in this spider web like soft cocoon, it hardens and collects dust and sand. In an instant, I was camouflaged and concealed and hidden from predator and prey. I am once again free to live to fight another day....
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Thursday, 12 April 2018

The Layers Come Off Easily


"ADE'S JOURNAL", 17

  The Layers Come Off Easily as I slowly wake up from history, into a world that shifts easily. Stealing the skills from my slippery skin if need be, to remind me to shed off what does not need to be. The school of hope swims towards me, as I watch their flat and round forms come within reach. I try not to show emotion and smile, like the old me. Swift predators sweep down and scatter all the battalion of sea folks heading my way. It swallowed spiky and rock like beings, crushing them into a pulp and then turns to watch me as I choke or gulp. I am not sure which one I did, but you understand my plight. 
My gills slow to a minimum, mimicking death and my soul fights to hang onto a frightened living casing. We stare at one another as if ready to spring forth a heavy bata dance, on the solid sea rock bed our shadows rest on. There was no time to escape and none to even blink as in a micro second, I was beneath a moist slimy jaw, crushing me into a horrible horizon. My instincts kicked in and like a hardened balloon rock, I became larger than my predators mouth. It’s awkward haphazard razor teeth struggled, to deflate my bloated resilient armor. It starts to choke almost displacing it’s aching jaw and permanently unhinging it from life. In a desperate attempt to survive it throws up enough liquid to thrust it out of my choke hold, isn't life a pleasant surprise. 
    Never have I ever been proud to be this large and as I float and sway, the school return to cheer me for rescuing the others. My one fight to survive, has saved others drowning in the predators slime. We dance briefly, celebrating our victory as another predator approached us all…
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Saturday, 7 April 2018

Burnt To Ashes, The Funeral Escorts


"ADE'S JOURNAL", 16

  A steak looking sunset reflects over the bland murky horizon, at the bottom is a dusty road infested with pot holes filed uneven aged asphalt, tarred and grinded by time and a brand new ambulance. Inside is a coffin of a young man in his prime, cut short by failed kidneys. His brother is in tears and his work colleagues sing songs of old. As they escort his corpse to its final resting place, behind them is an entourage of six work vehicles showing support to his family and respect for the life he lived.
In an instant, a pothole about two feet deep swallowed the right tire and forced the ambulance into a side rail. The impact crush all the sides and fuel spilled and burst into flames. In two minutes a large flame is all that could be seen as people braced burns and pried open the burning ambulance. Charred remains burned around the burning coffin as three are rescued and unconscious. The entourage becomes emergency vehicles as they now race to save three lives. Others stand and watch the ambulance collapse into charred remains and ash flies about. Where are the four men singing? Where is the only brother of the deceased and where is the coffin? All that is left is a mangled frame, a skeleton like ribcage that once was an ambulance. If it was an advanced country, someone will be held accountable. If there was justice, the bad road is grounds for a lawsuit. If and if there could be a way, they would still be alive. In Nigeria, how many burn victims survive? The traumatic scene of those young boys, assigned by work to follow a fellow colleagues corspe to its resting place.
Oh lord, why is death such a scary time in this part of the world? Why can't we bury the dead in peace? May their souls all rest in peace and may the remaining three be a living testimony to us all and survive this ordeal.
How can we be better and value human lives more? Oh lord protect us all.
A crowd gathered as I watched hard and  long at a bleak horizon....
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Wednesday, 4 April 2018

Immersed In A Sewer Of Deceit


"ADE'S JOURNAL", 15

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

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