yellow attracts flies performance

dear reader,

you can watch my performance in the link below.

feel free to email me/make a comment if you have any issues watching

the audio version will be out soon.


yellow attracts flies*

dear reader,

thank you so much for your support since my blog’s inception.

i am currently in lagos,nigeria and shall be performing for the first time at lucid lemon’s lemon curd event.

it will mean the world to mean if you could come to support me or show any support in any way you can.

my performance will be recorded and i shall it have up on my blog in no less than a week.

-have a blessed rest of the week




iyanu is yoruba for wonder

and i am yoruba

and ‘yoruba is a tribe in nigeria

and nigeria is a country in west africa’

that is what i was told.


in primary six

my citizenship teacher

who was my class teacher

told us



or is it he she me?

why does my friend’s name come before

‘and i’

and why can’t i say ‘me’ then add my friend’s name



she told us to memorize

thirty six states and capitals

it had become our passports into class

so everyday we will recite all

thirty six

and when we got to jigawa

we will stammer

but we will stammer even more

when we guessed that kaduna’s

capital was in fact kaduna

how was that possible?

a capital’s namesake is its own state?



the osuns and oyos and oguns were familiar

and that familiarity with my mother tongue

grew on me

it was an odd familiarity

because i did not know it

well enough to speak it

or understand it when

it was spoken

but i was familiar

with the culture

the food

the people


and how come grandpa

and grandma can mould

their eba so perfectly?

i tried not to stare when they ate

eba with okra and stew

but when i stared

my eyes were transfixed in wonder

grandma and grandpa knew

my citizenship teacher knew.

she knew

they knew

i knew



broken screens can be pretty

today,i broke my phone:bs

the first time ,in a shop
the next time,in front of a restaurant

i wasn’t sad
at all.

i looked at the screen
now filled with lines
that were not once there
when the manufacturer created it

as I picked up my screen
and stared at the screen,
i saw my reflection
and I thank God I saw it this time

because some people see
a blank screen
some people see dents
some people see that their
artificial glass has completely broken
but mine hasn’t
so I thanked God

the creator like the manufacturer (who is in fact the creator’s creation)
the creator’s first creation
is and was supposed to be without any dents
or broken glass

or was the creator’s creation created without dents? 

it is four o’clock

i am late
but the moment seizes me
my hair is being blown by the wind
i sat down on this bench to write down
my observations

it is so cold,
tears run down


and one more thing.
my  phone, like me
is pretty
even with all the dents.

*the picture above is an image from flickr*

letters to pain


Lady Pain, Gentleman Pain

Welcome to my heart

Oh you are not welcome

That was not a greeting of joy

Nor was it a greeting for your children

I remember you invited me for dinner

Once with them:

Sorrow, sadness and sickness

Those were their names


Lady Pain, Gentleman Pain

You knocked on my door

And I let you come in

And your children were with you

Nooooo , i just remembered the

Deafening cries

Oh, I remember the shrills

Oh, I remember the shrieks

Oh, I remember the screams

Of me.


You knocked on my door

And I let you come in

And your children were with you

Yessss, I just remembered the

Loud laughs

I remember they were for me

I remember they never seemed to end:

From you

To me.


I thought you left me


Like I wanted

But you’re crawling

You’re walking

You’re running

Towards me


I remember when you

Told us you were pregnant

For the third time

‘I am sick at heart’

That is what I told myself

Please leave me alone


I thought you left me

Like I wanted

But you’re crawling

You’re walking

You’re running

Towards me


Please go.


You ran away


When I (the pottery)

Talked to the potter


But you’ve come

With packs of Kleenex

And memories I prayed


So what do you want

From me?

Is it the tears that your

First child gave me?

Is it the sadness you

brought in the form of your Second?

Is it the malaria your

Third child gave me?


Leave me alone


I am as fragile as the stickers on parcels

I am as delicate as the eggs put in one basket

I am as sensitive as the mercury placed on

Every nurse’s desk in your daddy’s hospitals



You ran away


When I (the pottery)

Talked to the potter

But are here again

With rose pocket tissues

And you have clicked the rewind

Button of my mental music player


So get away Pain.

Leave me alone

I do not want to hear:

Your knocks on my door

Your children’s voices

You call my name


I was introduced

 to you

before I was conceived

it all began

when my mother

experienced the latent


(oh no, I got it wrong)

It all began

In the form of cramps

Of course, you disguised


But joy flowed like a river

When I was born

As I grew you looked

For me

But i resisted

I fought you

I knocked you

I pinched you

I punched you

I hit you

I slapped

Your faceless self

And you screamed in Agony

Yes, that was your language.