"ADE'S JOURNAL", 5
It's yellow beak scissored the branch holding on to the olive, weighing it down. And in an instant, it was engulfed whole and moved slowly into its tiny stomach. I just watched it quietly and then it flew down to the front of my door and dived into the clear pond. Leaves swayed and then land just beside the lone starling and it hopped away. But not too far off as it continues to dunk and bath in the same pond. The bright morning sun starts to disappear and I looked up at a spotted black sky. Broken Wishes Thawed Realities sunk in as the sky took on the appearance of an end of days event. I saw the first droplet, it splattered hard but it was not water. It was a puddle of messy olives surrounded by a white harsh thick chemical that melted the car paint on my black car. Then it started to rain guano and I race back into my house. The sharp sound and constant slamming into my doors and windows made me cower in fear. Was I in a horror movie or was this real. The millions of birds circling my house attracted predators, kites, falcons, eagles and even vultures joined in. The slaughter and chaos above me was scary and as I heard a voice call my name, I reach out to grab at the not visible familiar voice... Realizing that this was a just a dream....
Wednesday, 28 February 2018
Saturday, 24 February 2018
4
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Episode 4
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Rattle Up Her Sleeves
February 24, 2018
to Read
( Words)
"ADE'S JOURNAL", 4
Rattle Up Her Sleeves, The layers come off easily. All of my mind laughed quickly, at the lame excuses they gave. I have sincerely heard it all from this unique nation called my own. And I can't help but Smile at the tales they spin at the now awakened masses.
Rattle Up Her Sleeves, The layers come off easily. All of my mind laughed quickly, at the lame excuses they gave. I have sincerely heard it all from this unique nation called my own. And I can't help but Smile at the tales they spin at the now awakened masses.
Which stupid snake stole thirty six million naira and how did the monkey steal an additional seventy million naira?
Really we should call our home video, 'snake after the monkeys shadow'. The tale of the missing millions. It's a sad tale abi t greed and the milking of the belief in juju. All clashing into an epic tale of a broken political system, with the masses bearing the brunt of their unlawful activities.
Ugly is the way your lips part and spread into a plethora of lies, soaked in stupidity and arrogance caught by a frustrated nation. No longer will they get away with their horrible lack of human compassion. The people are now wide awake....
Ugly is the way your lips part and spread into a plethora of lies, soaked in stupidity and arrogance caught by a frustrated nation. No longer will they get away with their horrible lack of human compassion. The people are now wide awake....
Wednesday, 21 February 2018
3
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Sweets In The Dessert
February 21, 2018
to Read
( Words)
"ADE'S JOURNAL", 3
The secret to a sweet dream is a delicious memory, soaked in happy times shared in unconditional laughter. It is childhood unlimited, me climbing from one inside burglary proof wroght iron bars arranged in irregular rectangles. As I hope from one window to the other I laugh and cheer up my siblings, urging them to join me in this fun playtime. The gurgling sound of their laughing childishly, makes me tilt my head back and laugh and I can't let go. Not yet because it would be game over. My brother can't hold on, he falls back on the floor laughing and us remaining kids, swing and race to the finish line. I hurry because I am too happy to hold on and I jump to the box in the ground floor. I make it and watch my sister and remaining brother fall to the ground laughing hysterically. I urge them to join me but they don't and I fall to the ground, crying joyfully and then I crawled to them and we do a group hug as we all get to the finish line. The family that plays together, grows old together. And as I think of the words and wake up from a beautiful memory....
The secret to a sweet dream is a delicious memory, soaked in happy times shared in unconditional laughter. It is childhood unlimited, me climbing from one inside burglary proof wroght iron bars arranged in irregular rectangles. As I hope from one window to the other I laugh and cheer up my siblings, urging them to join me in this fun playtime. The gurgling sound of their laughing childishly, makes me tilt my head back and laugh and I can't let go. Not yet because it would be game over. My brother can't hold on, he falls back on the floor laughing and us remaining kids, swing and race to the finish line. I hurry because I am too happy to hold on and I jump to the box in the ground floor. I make it and watch my sister and remaining brother fall to the ground laughing hysterically. I urge them to join me but they don't and I fall to the ground, crying joyfully and then I crawled to them and we do a group hug as we all get to the finish line. The family that plays together, grows old together. And as I think of the words and wake up from a beautiful memory....
Sunday, 18 February 2018
2
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Fingerprinting Relatives For Security
February 18, 2018
to Read
( Words)
"ADE'S JOURNAL", 2
A Breath of Fresh Air is the feeling I get, when I am where I want to be.
This Year is Different no doubt, I can feel it.
Everything is Fired up, I can smell it. My emotions are stronger and every sound is intense, yes I can taste it. This morning is especially cold and every soft wind hits me I can see it. Just know You are not alone, he whispers, I can hear him. My beautiful Breath of Fresh Air....
A Breath of Fresh Air is the feeling I get, when I am where I want to be.
This Year is Different no doubt, I can feel it.
Everything is Fired up, I can smell it. My emotions are stronger and every sound is intense, yes I can taste it. This morning is especially cold and every soft wind hits me I can see it. Just know You are not alone, he whispers, I can hear him. My beautiful Breath of Fresh Air....
Tuesday, 13 February 2018
1
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A Lowly Valentine
February 13, 2018
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( Words)
"ADE'S JOURNAL", 1
The roses are standing Tall This February, I will not let anything make me fall. I believe I heard the call, to do more and say more even though less is happening. The blossoms spread their cheer, waiting for smiles you all will share. Yet the flaming hot reality of the fumes filled streets, with toxic hawkers hugging five litre kegs of the scarce commodity called fuel. No longer shall we frown alone at the 'ember' months, the last three that signify a sharp rise in costs of goods. A new month has been added to the month of strain. This Valentine's Day didn't come to spread hope but to revive scarcity. This irony called life is moving forward and I just can't wait to play my part, one day sooner than I hope. You need to feel how fast my heart is racing, afraid that this gloomy mood is infecting me. But just as sad realities hit, so does a gentle warm embrace awaken the desire for better things to come.
This Valentine's Day may be the first since I was aware of its existence, the first time I am not preparing for anything. It's also the first time I am not expecting anything, I'm not even baking and guess what?
It's fine, every day does not have to be all glamorous and happy. For me it's a day for sober reflection, not because of any religious attachment. But because it's the first time I will be all alone.
The fresh cool winds sting my skin and cool it rapidly, bringing with it the collective aroma of the red potted roses I planned to take with me to America. That dream has long died, along with the family I felt for a brief moment. I touch my belly and miss the twins kicking inside me and Henrik's kind hands feeling them.
I shut my eyes and feel the heavy balls of tears, race down my face.
Valentine's Day can be brutal, I hope I make it through today....
The roses are standing Tall This February, I will not let anything make me fall. I believe I heard the call, to do more and say more even though less is happening. The blossoms spread their cheer, waiting for smiles you all will share. Yet the flaming hot reality of the fumes filled streets, with toxic hawkers hugging five litre kegs of the scarce commodity called fuel. No longer shall we frown alone at the 'ember' months, the last three that signify a sharp rise in costs of goods. A new month has been added to the month of strain. This Valentine's Day didn't come to spread hope but to revive scarcity. This irony called life is moving forward and I just can't wait to play my part, one day sooner than I hope. You need to feel how fast my heart is racing, afraid that this gloomy mood is infecting me. But just as sad realities hit, so does a gentle warm embrace awaken the desire for better things to come.
This Valentine's Day may be the first since I was aware of its existence, the first time I am not preparing for anything. It's also the first time I am not expecting anything, I'm not even baking and guess what?
It's fine, every day does not have to be all glamorous and happy. For me it's a day for sober reflection, not because of any religious attachment. But because it's the first time I will be all alone.
The fresh cool winds sting my skin and cool it rapidly, bringing with it the collective aroma of the red potted roses I planned to take with me to America. That dream has long died, along with the family I felt for a brief moment. I touch my belly and miss the twins kicking inside me and Henrik's kind hands feeling them.
I shut my eyes and feel the heavy balls of tears, race down my face.
Valentine's Day can be brutal, I hope I make it through today....
Friday, 9 February 2018
104
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My Majestic Castle
February 09, 2018
to Read
( Words)
"ADE'S JOURNAL", 104
The rains are here again, not really. This is just the clouds reacting to the intense sunlight, that had caused hear stroke all over most of Nigeria. It's much like the cool breeze, Much like life they come and go, intensify and then stop. The dark clouds heaves and cough briefly and just like a sneeze, an intense bright sun blazes mercilessly down on you. This weather is dangerous and sly, much like some people out there.
For a brief moment, you think they are reformed and all their deception is gone for good. You don't miss the muddy shoes, the allergy brought about by a mixture of wet grass, dust and the cold. And you don't miss the intense sunlight and lies. To prove you wrong, they stop pretending and lie a bigger lie.
Now the sun comes in full force and drains out all the energy and you are constantly thirsty..... Thirsty for the truth and a positive change... The rains are here again and fresh corn, fruit and cool weather comes with it. Then you can't wait for the rains. Don't let bad apples spoil your taste for fresh apples, just learn by experience to know the difference. So that, when the sun shines, it brings with it fresh new life with flowers blooming and beautifying the wonderful world we live in. We can go to the beach and relax or just enjoy the warm glow on the river banks with friends and loved ones.
Any time I say the words 'loved ones', out loud it lets me into my harsh reality.
My majestic castle is empty and my soul is on vacation but my body is working on full throttle, my deadline is here and I have no choice but to finish the task at hand. It has taken longer than I expected but it is done now and as I have a sigh of relief my phone rings. It's unlike Celine to call this early but she has good reason to. Which be me to the most consistent thing I've done since basic necessities dictated that I performed my basic duties... Bath, brush my teeth, eat, drink and relax, all without failing. I've written and designed, read and calculated, drawn and illustrated and then erased.
But this is unique and for every loyal reader of ADE'S JOURNAL, I say thank you. By next week my online journal will be three years old and there's so much more expected. I mean everything happening inspires me to write, just this week witches tried to cook a lady in Europe, the DOW plunged so far down it could have triggered a recession in America and in Asia South And North Korea are marching together in the Olympics and Africans are doing the unexpected... Empowering deported immigrants and giving them hope.
Everyday is really a brand new day and a new opportunity to break barriers and do something positive. I agree that there is negativity around us but can't we just focus on hope, love, joy and that thing that puts a smile on your face. The thundering sounds from the skies outside, jolt me back to reality. Back to now and the interest way things are turning up...
The rains are here again, not really. This is just the clouds reacting to the intense sunlight, that had caused hear stroke all over most of Nigeria. It's much like the cool breeze, Much like life they come and go, intensify and then stop. The dark clouds heaves and cough briefly and just like a sneeze, an intense bright sun blazes mercilessly down on you. This weather is dangerous and sly, much like some people out there.
For a brief moment, you think they are reformed and all their deception is gone for good. You don't miss the muddy shoes, the allergy brought about by a mixture of wet grass, dust and the cold. And you don't miss the intense sunlight and lies. To prove you wrong, they stop pretending and lie a bigger lie.
Now the sun comes in full force and drains out all the energy and you are constantly thirsty..... Thirsty for the truth and a positive change... The rains are here again and fresh corn, fruit and cool weather comes with it. Then you can't wait for the rains. Don't let bad apples spoil your taste for fresh apples, just learn by experience to know the difference. So that, when the sun shines, it brings with it fresh new life with flowers blooming and beautifying the wonderful world we live in. We can go to the beach and relax or just enjoy the warm glow on the river banks with friends and loved ones.
Any time I say the words 'loved ones', out loud it lets me into my harsh reality.
My majestic castle is empty and my soul is on vacation but my body is working on full throttle, my deadline is here and I have no choice but to finish the task at hand. It has taken longer than I expected but it is done now and as I have a sigh of relief my phone rings. It's unlike Celine to call this early but she has good reason to. Which be me to the most consistent thing I've done since basic necessities dictated that I performed my basic duties... Bath, brush my teeth, eat, drink and relax, all without failing. I've written and designed, read and calculated, drawn and illustrated and then erased.
But this is unique and for every loyal reader of ADE'S JOURNAL, I say thank you. By next week my online journal will be three years old and there's so much more expected. I mean everything happening inspires me to write, just this week witches tried to cook a lady in Europe, the DOW plunged so far down it could have triggered a recession in America and in Asia South And North Korea are marching together in the Olympics and Africans are doing the unexpected... Empowering deported immigrants and giving them hope.
Everyday is really a brand new day and a new opportunity to break barriers and do something positive. I agree that there is negativity around us but can't we just focus on hope, love, joy and that thing that puts a smile on your face. The thundering sounds from the skies outside, jolt me back to reality. Back to now and the interest way things are turning up...
Tuesday, 6 February 2018
103
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Episode 103
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Dumped In A Witches Cauldron
February 06, 2018
to Read
( Words)
"ADE'S JOURNAL", 103
The Monday sun seemed to disappear and fake a moon light in the angry sky. Ask me why and I can only say it's because I am curious and maybe a little tipsy. My curiosity bar is high this Sweet sweet monday evening and the festival is perfect. I have my camera, aimed at men with canes pretending to be in the sixteen hundreds. The year of the witch hunt. There are women with large branches and brooms at its tip. Obviously a cartoonist version of witchcraft which would look great on my blog. But this is all child's play, the men get loud and the women start to chant in a language I do not understand. I have an ear for languages, I may not understand the words but I can usually pin point the continent. This language sounds nothing like Dutch or Yoruba, so I just stare at them and quietly take my pictures. Through my lens, I see the head wizard point his magic wand at me and freeze. Maybe it was not such a good idea to attend a witch and wizard festival. But I put up a brave front and put my lens down, to try to decide the meaning of all the attention I'm getting.
I try to walk away but I am surrounded by witches and wizards who now whisper in English, words that jolt my racing heart that I have been chosen. If it was a joke, I was not laughing. These surprisingly strong group, lift me up towards something I was not comfortable with. A boiling large cauldron with firewood sparkling and tossing flames that engulfs the massive contraption.
To my horror, I am Dumped In A Witches Cauldron. The pain does not hit my feet as I expect, but stabs my brain and my screams are muzzled by their cheers and chants. I try to grab the edge of the cauldron but it burns and I let go. Now I feel my feet peel and my knees buckle. I may just be me beef soup if I don't do something. So I ram into the cauldron and the this evil contraption and it's contents spill on the floor, the fire escalate and then the broth my unwilling flesh made quenched the flames. I screamed and cried and tried to ease the pain in my boiled hind limbs. They only set the cauldron back on the smoking firewood and try to light it up. This cannot happen again, I will not be sacrificed for anything or anyone.
I let out a loud scream that makes passing people turn to me and as they do, I beg them to help me. It turns out they thought it was an act until I screamed loud enough to get their attention. As the police race in and others apprehend the criminals that tried to cook me. I fall into a deep slumber, my face is covered in a soothing oxygen mask. And as I inhaled it's pure contents, put over my face. The pain and shock seems to fade away like a distant dream and I am carried into an ambulance...
The Monday sun seemed to disappear and fake a moon light in the angry sky. Ask me why and I can only say it's because I am curious and maybe a little tipsy. My curiosity bar is high this Sweet sweet monday evening and the festival is perfect. I have my camera, aimed at men with canes pretending to be in the sixteen hundreds. The year of the witch hunt. There are women with large branches and brooms at its tip. Obviously a cartoonist version of witchcraft which would look great on my blog. But this is all child's play, the men get loud and the women start to chant in a language I do not understand. I have an ear for languages, I may not understand the words but I can usually pin point the continent. This language sounds nothing like Dutch or Yoruba, so I just stare at them and quietly take my pictures. Through my lens, I see the head wizard point his magic wand at me and freeze. Maybe it was not such a good idea to attend a witch and wizard festival. But I put up a brave front and put my lens down, to try to decide the meaning of all the attention I'm getting.
I try to walk away but I am surrounded by witches and wizards who now whisper in English, words that jolt my racing heart that I have been chosen. If it was a joke, I was not laughing. These surprisingly strong group, lift me up towards something I was not comfortable with. A boiling large cauldron with firewood sparkling and tossing flames that engulfs the massive contraption.
To my horror, I am Dumped In A Witches Cauldron. The pain does not hit my feet as I expect, but stabs my brain and my screams are muzzled by their cheers and chants. I try to grab the edge of the cauldron but it burns and I let go. Now I feel my feet peel and my knees buckle. I may just be me beef soup if I don't do something. So I ram into the cauldron and the this evil contraption and it's contents spill on the floor, the fire escalate and then the broth my unwilling flesh made quenched the flames. I screamed and cried and tried to ease the pain in my boiled hind limbs. They only set the cauldron back on the smoking firewood and try to light it up. This cannot happen again, I will not be sacrificed for anything or anyone.
I let out a loud scream that makes passing people turn to me and as they do, I beg them to help me. It turns out they thought it was an act until I screamed loud enough to get their attention. As the police race in and others apprehend the criminals that tried to cook me. I fall into a deep slumber, my face is covered in a soothing oxygen mask. And as I inhaled it's pure contents, put over my face. The pain and shock seems to fade away like a distant dream and I am carried into an ambulance...
Friday, 2 February 2018
102
Ade's Journal
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Episode 102
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Somehow They Just Keep Coming
February 02, 2018
to Read
( Words)
"ADE'S JOURNAL", 102
Tonight the moon is full and my hope is renewed as I set out to just meet you. I have lost our friendship and got tired of the sinking ship that dragged me under as you were submerged. The Genesis of the problem is that I failed to get help and fought to not care. And the repercussions of this is that I'm not here, even though I shout here. Little is heard from me because right now my screams are whispers. Long heard and drowned by that which I love to down. T think I lived without alcohol for all these months, the taste of magic starts jack me. It stings and bites me and separates like lightning. All that I dreamed was lost has now been found. Not at the bottom of the bottle, but by the taste of your lips. Saying to me that you care, with each passing cheer.
Yes, I started out clueless. Not knowing what to do next. Didn't want to go be next and Prayed hard until they said yes.
Missing my childhood, lost in a trap. Reviewed how I was going about my business, watching people be my witness.
I read about all the riches and Tried many ways. Filled my head with wishes and then the 'Yes's' kept coming....
Tonight the moon is full and my hope is renewed as I set out to just meet you. I have lost our friendship and got tired of the sinking ship that dragged me under as you were submerged. The Genesis of the problem is that I failed to get help and fought to not care. And the repercussions of this is that I'm not here, even though I shout here. Little is heard from me because right now my screams are whispers. Long heard and drowned by that which I love to down. T think I lived without alcohol for all these months, the taste of magic starts jack me. It stings and bites me and separates like lightning. All that I dreamed was lost has now been found. Not at the bottom of the bottle, but by the taste of your lips. Saying to me that you care, with each passing cheer.
Yes, I started out clueless. Not knowing what to do next. Didn't want to go be next and Prayed hard until they said yes.
Missing my childhood, lost in a trap. Reviewed how I was going about my business, watching people be my witness.
I read about all the riches and Tried many ways. Filled my head with wishes and then the 'Yes's' kept coming....
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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.