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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

Popular Posts

Friday, 30 March 2018

The Effortless Smile I Miss My Face Making


   Inside a dug funnel dry sandy pebbles hole, I peep and shift as I move backwards and lift soil from the home I am trying to make. Yes, I must see it in my mind as I hold on to a dream, leading me into an endless bliss. The bright sun shining is a reflection of how I feel and as the earth trembles, I hope that a prey is nearby. So I lift tge soil and make my unsuspecting home bigger. My body is out of the hole, too sure the that anything that curiosity drags to my dibble foundation would be a delicious treat. Such lies I tell myself, for as I lie and wait, buried deep beneath the sand. I breathe slowly and my oval body barely moves and my awkward limbs stay hidden. I have mimicked that which will feed me, my skin blends well into the sand. A delicious succulent, rich meal crawls onto my foundation and starts to fall into my abyss. The more it struggles the further down it comes and straight into my anxious jaws. The rich succulent nutrients sip into my throat as I swallow and feed on the stray insect. Oh it pays to be good at what you do and to hone your skills and watch it feed you.
Way back, I was ashamed of Wherever you may want go, I told myself, that I would like to be somewhere else. I don't mind the scorching heat or my hungry throat, closing and clamping down hard, filling me and just feeding my hunger me. All I want is to be quench my thirst and fill my belly. And this one insect will not do, so here we go again....
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Wednesday, 28 March 2018

Like It Happened Before


   Swiftly I skid across the river and paddle vigorously as I kick and float. The semi circle is incomplete, the crescent moon is over done and the cold air is escalating. If you didn't know me before now, you would envy me. Be deceived into thinking I was bonding together for a meaningless purpose. The aim is unclear, even if most of the time, I am in denial. I have bonded together to end it all, to die here and not in a ugly manner, no. I have come here, not to drown but to float. I didn't know the real reason, until it was too late. I asked the question too ear into the journey and did not prepare for the perilous waters. My comrade has made this journey, three times now. And twice he almost drowned. For the third journey, he trained and swam in the sports stadium. He was the envy of many who watched and a twenty year old man trained with him. To test their abilities, they jumped into an angry Lagos lagoon and he made it across from the Ikorodu shores to the trepidations as I finally cross the CMS slanting shores. Sadly, I alone made it. My companion had drowned and I did not notice. Only when that suicidal doctor jumped into the Lagoon and the wrong body was fished out, did I know for sure that it was him. The face filled with false dreams of swimming from Morocco to Spain to get the European dream. At least, he was making an effort, I told my inner self. I on the other hand, was completely lost. I did not know how to swim, was lied to and sold unrealistic lies. Told that from the shores of Gambia, that I would see Italy. My swimmer friend laughed and asked me where Gambia was on the map of Africa. The last time I held a map, was in secondary school. I hated School, didn't pay attention. But lied and said I loved School. I failed woefully and lied to my parents that I passed. I left for Lagos, because I lied I was admitted into two universities there. And when on my trip to Lagos, at the busy Enugu market. That was where my money ended. It is also, where I met my swimming friend. Not before I met my pimp and human trafficking gangster. I watched in awe, a well dressed and could smell his designer perfume from two miles. I watched him tell an eager crowd about going by boat to Europe. That sounds even better than going to Lagos, I thought. Just imagine what my parents would say when I call them from Italy. But I had no money, so I did the best I could. I sold my soul to this devil on the streets of Enugu market square. He was rich and very sharp, as I turned. He grabbed my hands and said out loud that the next time they see me. That I would be clad in gold and designer clothes. I was embarrassed but he reassured me that once every year, he found a beautiful light skinned gem he sponsors. And asked if I was lazy. I disagreed and he gave me his leather pouch. It was heavy and when his phone rang, he told me to pick it up. I opened the bag and it was an iPhone 7. Live and in living colour and the crisp hundred dollar notes all around it made my eyes light up. He was collecting a thousand five hundred from educated idiots like my self. Well, I didn't go past secondary school, but as far as I told him. I'm in Unilag on holiday. It was after I have been housed fed and used to convince the rich desperate illegal immigrants to drop more money. That I met my swimming friend. He was irritated by my scrubby hands attempting to touch his hard limbs. He asked me for my story and like a shark, my pimp circled and tried to stop him. My swimming friend was traveling that night and paid for my freedom from his jaws. I cost a thousand five hundred and on our way to Europe, I learned how gullible and naive I have been.
  This circle got tight and drowning people all around, held on to my swimming friend, dragging us to the bottom of the Morrocan sea. My feet touched sand and my lungs start to fill up with water. Just like the story of bullet ants circling and Drowning together. We were all going to die. I opened my eyes and thought of the letter I sent to my parents. The lies I sold about Europe, now I would be one of the African bones at the bottom of the sea. Lining the shores of Spain, drowning in the lies Educated Idiots Like Myself buy. But my swimming friend swam towards me and lifts me high up, out of the waters to the shores. We were just a few meters from Spain. Pumping water from my lungs, I coughed and breath again and then looked all around me. From the one thousand people on our boat, only twenty of us made it. Then my swimming friend shouts at me. Run, they are coming.....
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Saturday, 24 March 2018

Loose My Number Abeg


  Quietly, I walk into where I have always wanted to be. Stepping over a thick layered fortified see through glass, with massive hammerhead sharks swirling around me like a fluffy cat on a frothy coffee cup.
 The silent muffled sound of a twenty foot shark, slamming into me from below as I head to the bar. There was no bar-woman or waiter, just two drinks i was thinking of. I forget about the sharks and stare at a spotted black cat fish about seven inches long in an aquarium. It sucked up the shiny white almost even pebbles and spits them out. I wondered where it was from as I stare at the creature I believed would not be edible and worried it may be close to becoming extinct. There was no one to complain to or even just share my observations with.
I sip on one drink and then the other, the contrast of Nigerian coconut crushed, freshly squeezed milk, mixed with rum makes me smile. And then the swedish bitters sparks up the lemon infused vodka wakes my taste buds up. Yes, I love me my drinks and yes I miss the one that smells like heaven, my Bailey's Irish cream. This dream was starting off great and I know it's a dream because  I would never order two different liquors. At least the old me wouldn't, the new me would order an orange drink with a bottle of water. I am detoxing if you haven't guessed, even in my dream. Can you imagine, I'm not even trying to hide that I miss drinking. Does this mean that I am a closet alcoholic? Of course not, but I love tastes and right now the older the good liquor is, the more tempting it is. I pick on the equal cubes of watermelon and pawpaws on a stick and smiled when I taste the lemon from my home, way back in the military barracks I spent my teenage years. The sound of a heavy high impact crash mafm me lose balance as my bar still sinks into the sea below. I should be thinking of the shark, right? Wrong.
I am thinking instead, of the last pawpaw going to waste and as I catch it with my mouth, I feel the force of the water sprouting from a hole above its head. It is not a shark but a friendly whale. I just hope it's not hungry....
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Tuesday, 20 March 2018

Ghosts Reunited


  The drums of war from an ancient time has slipped into my thoughts, with a tidal wave crashing into my little guy with smoked fish lined all over my fence. The shiny freshly grilled fish on an open flame sends sweet aroma to my hungry customers. Men and women that have spent days fishing and bringing home these tasty goodies.
Unlike their previous trips, the fish seem to have swam deeper into the great beyond and my hut far from the shore seemed a lot closer now.
This Langbasa land, tilled and fished on for centuries with the bones of my forefathers, deep down beneath this but willed to me from my Aboriginal mothers. The sound of the Lagoon tells .E it's time to go, yet I feel like a traitor and refused to leave.
My able bodied suitors were still at the sea which was not far from the raging lagoon that threatens to swallow us all whole.
Should I brace up and just fight and sim and survive this trying time?
And the best reply to that positive phrase and question is to ask, not why but when. When will my time come, as in when exactly do I get a break? All the men in my family are back, I mean half of them and I have sent off the women to trade our modern fabrics for old ones.
How do you think I know that something great is about to happen and why not now?
Did you even try and if you did, for how long? I think is no longer interesting to ask these type of questions. And I'm actually getting exhausted and tired of getting a Fresh look into my tired mind set. Vague abstract answers reveal who I have the potential to be and success stories motivate me but I really don't know what else to do.
Stepping outside I see the smoked fish soaked in mud and a steady rise in the lagoon water. It's not yet evening, so the tide should not be up, the boat I tied to the orange tree branch gate is floating. And as I untie it the water rises to my knee. I rush in to get grandpa who is choking in his sleep and I wake him up. The twin crammed up on my back start to cry hysterically, they sense it. If we are not awake, we would all have drowned. I drag him into the wobbling boat with a ton of water and catch a floating guord before it escaped and tossed it in with him. He starts to fetch and empty the boat of the water. My twins are crying now harder than before and I know the water is up to their feet as they splash and catch my attention. My old man drags and helps me into the boat as I drag the stick and maneuver us out of the hut. My neighbor too is old and her legs stopped working long ago, her unique ASO OKE styles help me mark up the price and none of her ten children have the gift of weaving but they all have the gift of selling. I move the boat to her hut and catch her holding on to a floating banana stalk. I help her and tons of water into the boat and as we get outside, the water carries her hut away.
I worry about others and then hear the talking drums call out and announce a meeting point. I stir the boat towards it as my twins calm down from me rocking and touching them, reassuring them we are all fine. The question was not how much property we lost, no. The talking drums asked for my grandpa and the old experienced Weaver of fabrics and of course, Iya Ibeji. I click my tongue and echo a melodic cry out in a sweet ancient song. Telling them we are all safe and then looking back at what was once a shore, now completely covered in water. Boats travelled for hours until we all came ashore, to a new fertile land recalled our farms, once far from the Lagoon and now neighbor to it. The fruits were a sweet relief and we all had our fill and then like a dream, we heard people call out. Our fishermen were back, some not all. And as I stare and wait for my man to return, I see only a faded copy of him. Floating and staring at me, he was now with my ancestors. And as I shrieked and tried to catch him, Ghosts Reunited. But at what cost, the entire village hold me back and take my twins away from me. I cry and tell them to let me be....
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Saturday, 17 March 2018

Pedal To The Metal


   Pedal To The Metal the lone flower screeched, just as angry sharp beach sand blasted and grinded it's yellow petals. How long do you think you can last? The army of grains of sand asked as ghastly raging winds aided their onslaught.
As long as it takes, I answer and then sink my roots deep into the Langbasa soil that my ancestors fished and farmed on.

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Wednesday, 14 March 2018

Sweet King Prawns Talk


   The chef flipped and tossed into the air the shakers that held the dry spice and no one noticed. I cheer and scream  and just want him to get into it. He smiled as she smiled and the tricks got harder and more intense and I hailed the performance, even though my hunger pangs got larger.
More was on the plate and I got distracted by new words and forget about the chef, until a high tower flame surfaces and lights up the dim room. This was performance art.
I did not want to eat one and leave out the best, so I wait. Patience pays off as the array of white meat got more flavor filled and bath in spices. This was going to be a feast of tastes led by a generous display of aromas. And my excitement climbed and peaked and stayed there, the taste of the fresh Atlantic ocean lingered as I but into the king prawns and the juicy rich grass sipped into my tongue as I chummed down on the boneless beef.  It helped that my childhood friends laughed and the familiar sound of life unfiltered and not airbrushed filled the air. I was back to eight year old me, wild and free and full of imagination.
My mind conjured up stories I had long forgotten in my creative mind, epic journeys I embarked upon in hilly Plateau state. I was present and absent as the creative juice flowed and I filled up my stomach and my mind. My thirst escalates as I quench it with orange juice I kept diluting to help the tangy taste last longer. Is it jumbo or king., I heard her say. It's Sweet King Prawns Talk, fresh as the sea breeze on a cool evening. This is just the beginning...
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Sunday, 11 March 2018

Pins And Needles Berries And Flowers


  The compound was spread far and wide with hardened clay that spread on for miles. I loved the sound of the large ram with spiral horns that didn't curve backwards and downwards like the smaller rams around the territorial bull. I didn't get close to it, it had the habit of ramming into people who ventured near.
My spirally hands swayed back and forth as I hopped and jumped and tried to dodge the pi s and needles my granduncle placed on the floor to deter my aunties from dragging their feet in my family compound.
Agboile was full and because my grandfather had four wives and most had an average of four children, we just ran wild and free, bumping into each other. My aunties tasked us with secretly collecting as many pins and needles we could pick and the person with the most will be rewarded with the most fried ram meat she or he could gather with our arms and hands.
I hopped and picked and knew I had win this assignment and as the ram was roasted and fried, I waited eagerly for my prize.
I picked thirty three altogether, my granduncle was really naughty for his age and I was kind of worried for my grandmother's. I think he just wanted all who lived here on Bola Street to lift their feet when they walk. As the massive stainless steel perforated bowl arrived with fried meat, my eyes widened and then I was given all of it. My cousin's and siblings clustered Around me as I listened to them tell me how much I owed them and had to share the prize with them. My grandmother arrived with a plastic bowl and soap and made us all wash our hands and take one piece of meat each. As I moved it to my mouth, the aroma of the well spiced and tender meat made my stomach flip.
And yes, I forced myself to wake up....
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Thursday, 8 March 2018

Chaos Upon Chaos


    Dust Marbles Floating By, making sure I ask all the reason why. Standing tall as the intense sun rays smash hard at me. As the edge of my eyeballs ache from an eclipse like sun shining hard at me. Sweating profusely I try not to grumble, after all the sunshine isn't past noon so it's safe right?
Plucked and Ripe, I try to keep up the smile, as I look at the flipped lens that captures my happy mood. Round beads of sweat spring up on my face and I dab quickly at my face and try to get my skin absent of all the sweat without the prickly heat.
It's so worth it you know, capturing me in the best natural light. I can't wait to upload it on Instagram and count all the likes. I guess my vanity bar is rising profusely. I wont stand here and daydream, I will only stay if you have ice cream in this blazing heat.
 Shocked and ripe is my wish, as an old love interest shows up with a large bowl of vanilla and strawberries ice cream. His smile feels familiar and refreshing and as we both walk back into my office, I laugh. It's kind of funny he caught me taking selfies, I don't think I have done that around him ever. I tuck and hide away my phone as I laugh at his snide remarks, his words aren't important and then I realize where I am.
I bring out my phone and check the date a time and none of it shows. I have to stay here and breathe and try to wake up from this dream.
Rock solid and stuck is my frozen time even if it's me trapped in what I want, what I expect and what has already happened.
I have to reshape my pride and as I look up at my ex, I see he is trying to get my attention and I am seriously trying to wake up.
    Yet I stand here with grace as a familiar voice speaks to me in French language.
'oui vous pouvez changer la situation surprenante en une situation positive...', seems to be all I am able to get hear as I start to wake up.
Plucked suddenly from the clutches of sleep, I realize it's Henrik's voice telling me in French that yes I can....
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Saturday, 3 March 2018

Rake Up The Butterfly In You


  Trial and Triumphs have a way of testing you and never in a pretty way. Yet in the end, all people see is a beautiful array of colours all shiny and new. No one realizes the stagnant phase or that painful period of crawling on all limbs, just doing what it takes to survive and grow.
I'm grumbling right? I should not be complaining but this life has a way of making you think. Right now I am hopeful, I believe that something great is about to happen. Ask me what it is exactly, I have no clue. But I am here, slowly beating my wings together and rocking myself back and forth like a butterfly drunk on hope. I know that sooner and not later everything is going to be alright.
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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 ( 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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