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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 February 2017

Footprints In The Mud, Washed Away By Flood


"ADE'S JOURNAL", 5

   A swarm of termites fly and crash into me, as I shield my nose, eyes and ears from their assault. The air is stagnant but the sound of their tiny, transparent wings, slicing into the air lingers. They push and shove and create the necessary drag they need to stay afloat. Hovering is not their strong suit, but the need to go somewhere, anywhere with light, that shines drags and attracts them like a magnet. The coolness of water calls to them, saying, dive in. And as they do, the surface is covered completely by upside down, termites. I swing and seat, trying to shove them away from my bright eyes, reflecting light and the moisture to them, resembles water.
I am not moved, yet jump and spank my back, as the giant termite finds a home in my back, underneath my blouse. These flying insects grow in numbers and keep calling on their comrades to come and witness this glorious night. I am not alone, I am with friends. Our pressing iron is plugged, hot and ready. I will flick away their wings and I am going to roast them alive, and Munch on their juicy core. Fueled by my childhood memories, I wait a bit, until my bucket is full. My friends, start to feast on the delicious snack and I cringed. Who sent me? As a child, I remember Lydia, fed me the delicious delight and this memory has fueled me to talk tirelessly about reliving this Precious moment. But like most memories, I am not the same. Many things I've done and said are like, Footprints In The Mud, Washed Away By Flood. I freeze and stare at the roasted shinge, the roasted giant termite. My secondary friends, rush to my side and start to devour the snack, I had made mouth about. It was clear, unspoken and undone but crystal clear. I was not going to partake in a memory, long gone and forgotten. This me, is different. Are you?
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Saturday, 25 February 2017

Ring Of Fire And The Resurrected Dog Bitten Corpse


"ADE'S JOURNAL", 4

    The sun is freezing and the Moon is boiling, and comets are fizzling out. The sky is boiling and the stars are shifting because something interesting is about to happen. Roles are been exchanged and the norm is no longer normal. For another Eclipse is about to occur. Not the usual Eclipse where the moon in all her fury, burns and takes over the sky during the day. This is different, this time, the sun reduces its flame and volume and exerts revenge on the Queen of the night. This time a ring, much like a gold wedding band will adorn the sky. But I'm getting ahead of myself, right now a soft whimper distracts me. As the noise escalates, I watch her.
 Salty tears stream down to her Bossom as faulty whispers judge her sister. Together, they knock heads and cry for a lost soul. A symbol of hope, truncated by a series of unfortunate events. It started with renewed hope, a revived soul, quenching the blue flame of depression forever. As a mother's, wakes up from a walking dead like zone and revives her will to fight and thrive in this world plagued with recession. She rose from grass to grace, beat this disease called depression and regained her will to live. Reviving all her dreams and just in time, because her husband lost his job and it was time for her son to go back to school. Today she shopped, knowing her son's future is secure and believing he was running free, in her sister's house. The sister now blessed for the first time with twins, due to arrive in four months. Just another day and all her dreams would be scheduled to start. As she ponders on what her only begotten son was doing, in her only beloved sister's house. The pregnant sister, works, but has a trusted guard. A psuedo family member, this working class sister funds all his four kids education. Unknown to her, this guard has become complacent, expecting more handouts and giving less. He didn't notice the raging guard dog's, escalating Problem and lied about taking the dog to the vet. The creature had been pecked by a raging eagret, that tussled for a toad, with an infected bat. It's blood boils and it's deep seethed disease spreads, the dog percieved everything as a threat and attacked and bit the gates of the cage it was in. The guard watched the dog growl and somersault and knew he was in trouble. He had spent the last money for the vet, on a prostitute and had done so the two months before. Series like this, he had gotten away with because the pregnant boss and her husband were too trusting to notice. Maybe, one day more another day and this time, he promised to take the dog to the vet. Just a few more hours until tomorrow and he would do as he was paid to do, care for the dog. The dog attacked the gate and he had one choice. Either keep it locked up and all his crimes would be exposed or hide and release the dog. Then shield and protect himself just before everyone wakes up and force it back into its cage. The many leather cloth, wrapped around his limbs made the guard look awkward, but shielded him from the infection. Thirty minutes later, the guard slept off and dreamed of what he would miss. The joys of been wrapped by the woman of the night. A fantasy he hoped he could continue, when the vet treats the dog. The screaming child woke him up and the rabid dog, kept on biting him. Nothing the guard did helped, not the blunt side of the shovel on its head or the jabs to its face. When finally it let go, it was too late. The mother who left her son entered the gate and screamed. The husband to the pregnant sister watched in horror the mangled body of his nephew. He rushed the guard and punched him, the guard dragged the salivating dog back into the cage, ignoring the blows. The husband disappears and appears with his car keys and handcuffs. He cuffed the guard to the cage and rushed to his nephew and they disappeared. Hours later, it was too late. He entered a coma and died. The funeral was quick and the tears endless as the family is still in shock. On the way to bury the body, the son starts to knock on the insides of the coffin. The coffin bearers, drop the coffin and some run away. The mother begs them to open the coffin and when they do, he stretched out for his mother. His aunt and mum scream and praise God, as he falls back into a deep sleep he is rushed to the hospital. The doctor's confirmed he is still alive and the battle for his life continues. As the Ring Of Fire And The Resurrected Dog Bitten Corpse news spread, a ray of hope shines bright again...
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Wednesday, 22 February 2017

Pounding Through His Mortal Sin


"ADE'S JOURNAL", 110

 Heavy mortar crushing hard, selling laughter that he never had. Silence ensues as I slowly crawl, under a bridge I'll never pass. Waiting in line, hope you’ll never decline. To say you are mine, as we jump high and smile. Wish I could spy, on you from a mile. Because, I don’t trust you at all and hate that this is love. A definition that is appalling and so much like prison.
What do You want? It’s a simple question with a complicated tone to it.
When last did someone ask you this question without shoving an answer down your throat before you even thought about the answer. What we want depends on what we believe is important and what we believe is important, depends on what we once had, what we long to have and what we dream of owning.
So be absolutely sure you know what you want before you step out of your home or wherever you are right now. Repetition, is the first learning tool we use to learn, starting with letters and words. And then imprinting pictures and fusing it with a memory until it’s permanently embedded in your brain. And fixed strongly, deep inside your mind. Just remember to be thoughtful, considerate and uphold all the values you treasure and acquiring these thing wont make you feel guilty and no one can stop you from getting the things on your dream list. Keep dreaming, act on it and eventually you will get there.
 Sounds good, right? Not when it comes to relationships. I have a horrid sense of what a good man is, I have an attraction for men who want to travel. And today, after three children… I think I am over the phase of, the grass is greener out there. I doubt my partner is on the same page though. He has asked me to sell this house, that we live in. It’s my father’s house, my siblings got tired of funding my pipe dream of moving to America. I say pipe, because there was no solid attempt to move. No good reason to travel, I thought I could back pack and travel like the rest of the world. But I learned the hard way and the only way. The rules are different if you are broke. So I got a job as a personal assistant. And like others in the rat race, I got access to a loan because I am now a government worker. Then I met my dream man, chest as wide as Abacha's cupboard, skin as soft as a fantastic sponge cake. And the dream of relocating to America, one day. The harsh truth was that, he was a façade, the job he told me was his belonged to his uncle. The house he said was his, belonged to the family. I did not understand the lies, after all, I too had no property but a joint Family one. So why lie?
 Pounding Through His Mortal Sin, I found more lies. More reasons to ask why I am in this horrible mess. His lies piled up and the bills too. Friction forced us to move out and my siblings scattered all over the world, became a source of misery because of him. He wanted us to join them, in Europe or America. I had baggage and was not prepared to stress anyone. So, I was forced to pay the rent, five hundred thousand Naira and climbing. My salary could not keep up and his earnings had to please his family. My sweet siblings, adviced me to get a developer to look at our family land. I got a loan and got the complete documents for the house. And built a four flat, two pays back the loan and one, supports my family. I thought this would make us happy, solving my money problems and reducing it to almost nothing. But three children are a lot to manage in Nigeria and my husband wants the best and freshest of meals. He does not care that I do not eat the fresh fish he does, but the frozen preserved turkey. I stop, when an emergency surgery on my first child comes up. And chaos returned, he bullies me everyday and call me selfish. After all, in his words we lived in his own family house. He neglects to say it was just for a year. And that I paid rent for three and now two additional years later, we have been rent free. What about our children, do you want me alone to pay their bills? He was unmoved and finally woke me up tonight, the reason he has not been dropping money for our three children is because he is traveling to America. And is just a five hundred thousand Naira short, at this point I could have borrowed to help him and free myself from his tyranny. But I was out of options. Delay paying for our first child’s surgery and I swear I will make it there. This was not naïve, child free, me, listening. This was a mother, a wife and a sibling, anxious to stop collecting the family assets and sharing it with my siblings. If only he was not so demanding, I would have started, remitting the one flat rent, into our family Account. Instead, my husband is watching me try to sleep and anxious for tomorrow’s surgery that will save my seven year old son and ease the stress his two little sisters have. The smell of smoke, makes me cough and jump out of bed. There was light, last night. So I didn’t put on the generator set. The sight of burning flames, Confused me but the burn got me wide awake. The house is on fire and my husband is missing. I run to the burning children’s room, stepping on burning rug and wood and wincing and screaming as I do. Their beds have flames, way up high and I can see their remains. I race to hold them and feel my clothes catch fire and stick to my flesh. The pain is unbearable and then I look out at the window. Through tearful eyes, I see him standing and watching the children’s bedroom. He has a keg of petrol and a matchbox. I Am in shock, and watch him wave at me the cash for my dead firstborns surgery. The flames burn got and I run to the burglary proof and start fighting to shake it out of place. But it was well built to keep thrives out and say to keep me in. The flush door, by its side, falls outside and I crawl towards it. My husband moves away from the burning house and I stretch my hands to stop him. My lungs give up and with my last breath, I whisper.
You will Pay.

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Saturday, 18 February 2017

Sand Pebbles, Grind And Wear Down To Dust


"ADE'S JOURNAL", 2

     Shifting and grazng a each other, shoving and pushing to make room for the dominant one. A symbiotic existence and a competitive one, ensures that the remnants travel far andwide. Impacting lives as they do. Negatively and positively. Sand Pebbles, Grind And Wear Down To Dust. Traveling all around the continent, dig a change in the season and an end and a Beginning. Allergies erupt and Huan beings sneeze and react to my presence. Dust mites, feed and live in our midst. Growing fat and thriving, springing new life and surviving. Angry lazy hands, Wie away evidence that I was here, proving that they care to their fellow man. Abandoned buildings gather up layers of dust, proof that I was here, that we are still here. Shoving and pushing one another, grinding and shaking as we move up the ladder. Climbing and crashing, until someone else is affected and reacts and alerts others that we are here. Like unseen forces, we creep up slowly into your space. Like a bad rumor, spread by an ignorant illiterate. Believing any jargon, spread by anyone appearing to be enlightened.
The father of three waved what could not be seen and tries to push away millions of dust particles. Afraid his wife and children are not safe, he does the unthinkable.
Daddy brings out a clear bottle with liquid that isn't clear. It looks like a sugary drink. But as he opens the bottle. It's obvious what it is, it's petrol. He dabs some on his white handkerchief and covers the nostrils of his five year old son. The struggling little child is held down by his frail looking wife. Don't do that to him, I screamed and if looks could kill.. I should be dead. Why are you complaining? The entire public bus passengers complained and I thought I was in a nightmare. He forced his six and seven year old daughter's to inhale some and his wife willingly did the same. I could not believe my eyes. Finally he too inhaled some as we drove into a petrol station. It's to detoxify my family, the ignorant illiterate explained. I start to tell him all the ways that he could destroy their lungs and poison his family. The petrol attendants asked if he has protected his family, that he needs to buy some fuel. I could not believe my ears, even this young man that seems enlightened was propagating this dangerous custom. What toxins are you protecting your self from, with petrol I asked this bus filled with false believers of a dangerous practice. They all point to my large brown leather hand bag. The dust that has accumulated on this road trip was all over my bag. Harmless dust over Toxic Fuel, I hope someone is reading this. Please tell people to stop this dangerous practice. Who even started this kind of dangerous rumor? Just bless it and you will be fine, a woman adds and buys a litre of petrol for the road. It reminds me of the tragic story of the people who eat annoyed rat poison and died. Why are lives wasted like this? I am just glad I am by the window. The smell of petrol in this vehicle is dangerously high and as they beg me to wind up the vehicle, I reject it. As thank God I chose to seat by the window, even though it's ruffled my hair up and out of the bun I put it into.

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Tuesday, 14 February 2017

My Valentine, A Psuedo Love Scam And A Seashore Of Betrayal


"ADE'S JOURNAL", 1

  Floating aimlessly on a salty sea, swaying wherever he says I am. And forever landing in sea deep trouble, it's about time. Time to be able to desern the truth from fiction, his lies from the truth. I watch his Beautiful brown eyes, lure me into his lair. I listen to his loud whispers, as they whisk me up in the air. And now I have landed hard and crashed into pieces. My protective shell is gone and i am naked and vulnerable. The sea creatures are pecking away at sweet me.And as I watch my Beautiful shell lost away, I miss being whole agaib. The brown exterior that shielded my milky white interior is forever gone. My clear innocence is forever tainted with harsh salty tears. The sweet island coconut girl, is now a sharp Lagos bave. Why do I keep falling for liars? Is there something, that I am doing wrong? I give him gifts, in kind and the type girlfriends wish they could only dream of giving. The crystal bowls and complete set, was last purchased by the queen mother. Imagine the quality of the gift. Yes, I spend too much. Now, hear me out. I have hand made his favorite chinos, combat pants. A complete replica and the latest from New York fashion week. Does he appreciate it? For where, instead I do too much. It's Valentine and I have not even got guru or epa, from my love. Last year, I lied and covered up. But this year, he will prove he is different from my specifications of broke ass boyfriends. This time, I have funded and backed his business. I have empowered him and now I am waiting.
And I am still waiting... Na wa ooo, men are wicked. Should he not even pretend to care. My phone is ringing and I am in no mood for excuses, nonsense. He is still calling me, maybe I should just hear what he has to say. I can't wait to be driven to a nice quiet resort. See, giving him my car was a big mistake. I should have insisted and held on to the keys. The phone is still ringing, I think I have made my point clear. I pick up the phone and smile. But the smile quickly fades away. It's the police, they want to know if I gave him the car or he stole it. The question is funny. Nigerian police and their over Sabi, shaaaa. No wahala, I will show up and clear this mess up. So, he was delayed, I knew it. I'm sure rises, wine and chocolates are in the back seat of my car.
 I do not even want to tell you about the disgrace, the embarrassment or the mind killing experience I had. There, before me, are lovely ladies, ranging from fourteen to sixty. I did not want to believe that he was dating a grandma. The grandma screamed and pointed at her granddaughter. I sat down and fell bum first on the floor. Grandma and granddaughter, tried to help me up. Grandma smacks her naughty neice. My man had enticed her with a new phone and a promise to drive my car. On Skype, other women confirmed he was the man, blackmailing them for skyoe-sex. He had recorded it and was extorting money from them, threatening to load it in a porn site, online. The reality of his lies and the gravity of his crime, made me curious. What a day...
My Valentine, A Psuedo Love Scam And A Seashore Of Betrayal. A teeming seashore of women, lied to, heart broken, hardened by lies and the war front he left behind. I was not his only ATM card, neither was I the last woman he had swindled. Short home videos were played and replayed and as I watched them on the spot, in the police station. I agreed, I agreed to testify and then changed my mind. The court hearing was swift and the judgement bitter sweet. He banged twenty seven years for extortion and I stopped forcing love. So for the first time since I was sixteen, I am alone on Valentine and it's fine. I'm sharing my story, so you can change. Love cannot be manufactured, it should be earned. It should be a union if two souls and like justice should balance. Enjoy, however you are, single or with a partners. Just be true to you.

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Friday, 10 February 2017

Comet, Eclipse, Full Moon, The Signs Are Crystal Clear


"ADE'S JOURNAL", 108

    The sky is rumbling and grumbling and the rains have stopped. The clouds are giving way and gathering on either side, preparing for the ultimate showdown. Angry high waves splash and slam into eroding seashores as rabid winds pick up and smash homes to pieces. Snow crystals gum together, amassing weight and slide down, crushing everything in its path. Leaving people dazed, stunned and broken. Yet the universe has just begun and galaxy's have just this response. The stars are clustering together and slamming into each other. Creating sparks larger than planets and making the sun jealous. In response, it blazes harder to show strength and deter others from trying to take over her world and her reign. But it's the season of wooing and as Valentine draws near, he gets bolder. The king is in need of conquering a queen and tries with a carrot and then a stick. The beautiful blazing sun in all her glory burns red and then blue, not this time and not again. You love my strength and you're intimidated by it, you are attracted to my will but only want to lower it. My rage and burning desire attracts you but all you want to do is overshadow me. Never again shall i dim my light to make you shine, or burn low so you can glow. A resilient moon inches closer and endures my scorching heat and tries to block me from the world I know and I've yet to discover. My siblings and old friends, try to rescue me and fail. The old burned out sun, all around me, remind me of their tales and ginger me to fight on.  Comet, Eclipse, Full Moon The Signs Are Crystal Clear, you must fight even if you can't anymore. There are battles you give in to, so that you can fight another day. Not this one, there are no rules of engagement for this battle. And only one can exist, after it is all said and done. The  supersized moon is enraged and jousting for supremacy in my sky and universe. This War In The Sky, would not end, unless I myself, have seized to exist. Like all battles, he succeeds and takes over my sky, my bright light is dimmed and reduced to a circle of fire, behind and around him. A comet burns out and sinks to the bottom.

And as I watch it, I know I need to fight and end this eclipse. Today, now and forever.
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Tuesday, 7 February 2017

Falcons On A Plane, Satin Sheets All The Way.


"ADE'S JOURNAL", 107

   Slicing the perfect air with an almost invisible clear string, strung  tight and vertical and not horizontal like the common web scattered all  over. This is different, this is special and we have just started. Unique living creatures like ourselves, toil hard and create magic. Breaking boundaries and suspending our fat juicy flesh, we continue to spin and spew out new tension, natural wires. Silk threads, sprout out of us serrated weavers, working hard to form a priceless cocoon. A home and shelter to hide in, fit for the gods and Lords of this universe. The kind of home you hibernate in and morph into a better version of yourself. Spawned out of love and an instinct to survive. A new beginning and a new life, driven by pride. Strands of our silk would go far, and adorn the best of the best runways. Maybe mine would be made into an outfit worn by the Queen. All the dreams and hopes, fuels me and keeps me going. Also, all the movement above, goes unnoticed as a crowd gathered in the sky. In one quick move, I see a shadow cover me. And then, I am pecked and truncated out of existence by a winged champion. I think, please ask. How does this happen? What are these creatures that have wiped us out if existence. they are the new leaders. The preferred, graceful champion's, not fat and robust but fit and firm. Muscled limbs lift them majestic upwards and beautiful wings, spread outward. Creating a beautiful wing span, in flight. Others watch as they fly away, into the arms of people towards hope and freedom. Did I just escape death? I am stuck between the feathers and pruned off. I fall awkwardly off and land hidden and far out of sight. But they are in my line of sight and I am watching them and can't help but describe, what I see.
Locked and Spotty feathers lay flat like domino's, on the backs of the winged champion's defying the norm. Flying in first class and treated like royalty. Falcons On A Plane, Satin Sheets All The Way. Not tomorrow or later but right now. I'm never going to give up my dreams or stop when I want to scream. And then I instinctively start to spin silk, underneath predators. High up in the air and on an airplane. A silent hum resonates as we fly over the Atlantic Ocean...

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Saturday, 4 February 2017

Like A stray Python


"ADE'S JOURNAL", 106

     Slightly and slowly, it's creeping in and crawling onto everything and everyone. You can sense it but you don't want to taint your positive mind with the negative thoughts. A Symptom Of Something Unclear In The Water Is Brewing. It's frothing and bloating upwards and outwards, reflecting the mood and pain of the people. Helpless and desperate for something, as I wait and look up to the sky for a miracle. Here I am clueless, analyzing how unfair the evil act of kidnapping is, to anyone who cares to listen. The real trauma is the victim in the hands of human snatchers. The families that have to endure another night without their daughter, their son, their mother, father or siblings. Long, long ago, this would never have happened here in Nigeria. I say, a few hours before now. And my friends and family agree and echoed the same views across from each other. But we forget that slave trade is kidnapping and these ruthless merchants of death only want one thing, quick money. The evil act has taken a turn for the worse, the mayhem is escalating and the masks the perpetrators wear has become their skin. Monsters have morphed into blood sucking, cannibalistic demons. And now I am all alone and watching the monster try to escape. Actions have consequences and I contemplate and ponder on the punishment fit for the crime before me. This happened now and I need to tell you what has transpired. It's just as if I'm in a movie. Like A stray Python, That Snuck Into my compound. And snatched my layer chickens, and all her eggs. Twisting and stretching the last one and had her, Halfway into its dislocated jaws. I watched in horror and trapped it inside a cage i had built to keep out prying hands from my small generator set. The generator had long stopped working, and was accruing dust behind my rented apartment. The cage, fortified and covered in mesh, was left open by my visiting neice. This cage, is now a makeshift chicken cage. And now, a tomb for my lifeless micro mini livestock poultry. I watch the massive Python try to wiggle it's way out of the tight knit cage and fail. My phone is ringing and the news is disturbing, I look at the cage and tell the private security to come with a van and men not afraid to handle snakes. They agree and tell me that my daughter has not been found and my situation is getting worse. Just like this Python, recession is strangling and snuffing the life from a hard worker, a dedicated sister and a philanthropist. Greed is the name of the game and sadly enough, the game has just begun. The news is not good and I choose not to believe any of it. So me, the Python and private security agents go to the kidnapper's den. The earth worms have made a home in my daughter's head and the death flies burrow six feet deep to keep her company. Long buried in the ground, the men trample over her grave and jump and point and say she is beneath their feet. Confused and crying, I asked them why they ask for more money. Why it was so ridiculously high, that my family could not afford the exorbitant fees. Why they made me resort to scuttling and begging from everyone and everywhere. The close workers and friends, feigned ignorance. Blaming it all on their greed, which made them glutinous. Their carelessness has made them brazen and gotten them caught, by my private security force. Supplied to me by my first boyfriend, who heard my story and came to my aid. I still don't believe them and cry and scream and shout it, loud and clear. Heart beats flutter and pump hard as a mixture of fear and hope clash inside the onlookers. Security agents and family members, watch people they once called friends point at a spot in the ground with moist sunken soil. And as they dig and bring out her rotten corpse, I bite hard into his nose and taste the bitter bile on his skin. Camera's off, I screamed at them as I rock the lifeless body of my last child. This time, I won't let the law handle this. That skinny Python will come in handy today. I was laughing and crying as I asked them to bring the cage down from the vehicle. People were leaving now, running and driving away. And as it's jaws drag and swallowed one leg of the ring leader, I realize there is never going to be any justice. I silently tell her ssshhhh, reassuring my lifeless little chicken that everything will be alright. Knowing and wailing as it all transpired that.. My dear, dear child is forever lost to me....
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Adebusola Ukayat Elegbede is a Playwright and Content creator with a passion for real life challenges. Born in Kaduna state and lives in Lagos Nigeria, she has a passion for story telling from the perspectives of characters in conflicting situations. I started out on the New Writing Project in Nigeria with the British Council Lagos Nigeria and The Royal Court Theatre, Sloane Square U.K. My passion for creating stories led to comic books, television drama's and an online journal on my website (busolaelegbede.com). As part of the WPIC in Stockholm Sweden 2012, the experience has forged life long friends and ignited my passion as a volunteer and advocate for human rights and the United Nations 17 Sustainable Development Goals.

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