Deliver me from puking

 

Now and always...inclusive of when I am pregnant (before y'all start wondering, I ain't).

Some fifteen-twenty years ago, I used to think owning and driving a car was such a luxury especially in Nigeria. Na big lie! Lie told from that very dark, deep pit of impoverishment. Thankfully I have come to that realization that it isn't in any bit and my strive to get cars has so grown by some amazing litres. 
But first, I must start with owning one and this immediate need didn't stem from a desire to enjoy cool music and air-conditioning o but a need to save my delicate lungs from serious retching. Walking the streets and jumping buses in Lagos is a mega challenge, I'm sure y'all will agree. Imagine my happiness at living in a place as grand as Omole phase 2 - lush scenery, cool breeze, clean air to breathe, safe environ to jog at any time of the day, pretty shawty to admire even though they drive pass in their cars ( I don't do girls o before your senses move into overdrive), lanky dudes to salivate over too only for that excitement to be cut off every time I walk out of the estate gate. My routine involves going by Ojota odour sorry motor park. That early morning waka pass the park nauseates me. From all the debris to already turning-dark-feaces to urine-washed stalls and soggy ground...arrrrrrrrrgh! That stench of urine is oga patapata. Damn irritating especially in those wee hours of the morning when I have to walk through the blasted car park. Every corner is urine-flowing, even if it is not someone will gladly refill the earth surface with fresh pee like it's some kind of libation! If not for the nature of the soil that adequately absorbs it would have been a different tale entirely because believe me I am yet to see a day where the backs of men will not be turned to me with their burrito facing the buses and doing some morning baptism. I wonder how the people that display their wares cope; yet they eat in that filth! o gbele o.
 
Dear Lord, I need a car ASAP!!!
 
As if the urine palaver is not enough, going home the other day I reluctantly sat beside this young guy. Naturally I am a window person, (for several reasons not limited to popping my head out of the window in 'space' admiration) but because the guy had taken my favorite spot I took the next best which was beside him only to realise a second too late I wouldn't be comfy in that spot. In that split-second-decision-making opportunity to change location, another beefy man blocked me from the right. So there I was sandwiched between a young blood who was wreaking of alcohol plus heavy cigarette smoke and an older blood oozing a terrible underarm odour (really holding myself back from cursing).

How will I not puke?

But I didn't. I said all the prayers I could mumble that both men would alight before me...that didn't happen so I changed direction of prayer for a quick delivery at my estate gate...my dear, that didn't happen either as the usual closing-hour traffic held us bound for a long while so my tender nostrils suffered the harsh n forced romance.  

I need a car, just the car...I've got my drivers' license already. 

Writer's note- o gbele o is an exclamation that even I can't translate
                          oga patapata literally means the head of all
Credit to all my friends; I picked some slang off you. Please keep gisting me. Feather kisses ;-)

Photo Source...GoogleImages

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What matters

Been MIA for weeks now and folks have been wondering; rest assured dearies I am good.There's just so much to get sorted in so little time but good news is I got to do something I truly love doing in that 'activityless' period. I wrote this piece in my 2nd/3rd year in the university but tweaked it somewhat to suit occasion. So this is me going back memory lane; remembering my days in CASOR OOU, GODHOUSE Ikenne, Orientatation Camp, Farfaru in Sokoto State...all the days of writing and performing poetry in the house of God. I truly hope this blesses someone.

Life’s journey took me through west, 
At age 15 when I first met Jessie 
Damn right dirty, this girl was the best  
A decade older Jessie got me living on the edge 
2-4-7 we pleasured on the bed 
Getting stoned on dope and sipping brew 
Grass and coke, all on the menu


Ahead of my game I was really living large 
Halima, Fatima, Cynthia, Sunita 
Long legged, small waist, full bossom were my fondest 
All around campus I was tagged the hottest 
That was my name… 
I lived for the fame 
And everything that came with it; 
Hot chicks, cool digs 
All around town I was rolling 
Pleasure was all I lived for 
Earthly treasure was all I worked for
 
Tito…the household name in every bar 
The name on the lips of all the women in the spa 
Tito…the leader of the gang, dreaded master at shooting down targets 
& the go-to guy for everything shady
 
Then the years fly by and they didn’t do me any justice 
20 years on, my features are losing shape 
I got doctors round the clock trying to save my face 
20 years on I’m more bones than flesh, no strength in my chest 
My liver is failing; the dust is calling out to me 
All through my hay days, I sought solace & perfection in funny living; 
took to parties, whoring and gambling; all of which morphed into pain
 
But…While lurking in my bad habits I found something 
Something…something worth nothing 
It was more demanding than amusing 
I found that in my pleasurable lifestyle, I had no content, no joy, no rest of mind
 
Even I a master had failed at his game 
Nothing is certain in life. It is true. 
But...who never fails or strays at his game? 
Who never changes and remains the same? 
My head is clouded…my eyes shrouded… 
A name rings, starting to form 
Who’s the best, in top form ahead of his game never to stumble?

A know all? A do all? 
A conqueror, an unchangeable being? A victor, A warrior?

Who is? Who is the upholder of all things? 
The everlasting, the rock, the true light, the builder, the foundation, the e-eend? 
Who is?
JC?, But that’s the Lord Jesus Christ

Yet in all my excitement and this feeling of newness 
A voice shrills at me 
Horrid thoughts rolling through my mind 
Once a whore, always a whore 
Once a gambler, always a gambler 
Once a thief, always a thief 
Once a lesbian, always a lesbian 
Once an alcoholic, always an alcoholic 
Once a sinner, always a sinner

I’m lost and helpless to a fault 
Whose voice shall I belief 
But…But…who then can condemn me? 
For judgement is of the Lord’s 
Who is saying unto me… 
“All things are of God who hath reconciled us to Himself through Christ Jesus, and has given us the ministry of reconciliation” 
He is saying unto me… 
"Let the wicked forsake his ways and the unrighteous man his thoughts, Let him return to the Lord and he will have mercy on him and to our God for he will abundantly pardon".
 
That’s our God of love; his sweet fragrance spreading out 
He’s calling you too…come home sister, come home brother to the feet of Christ Jesus. 

(Spoken word poetry at Doxa International Christian Centre, Ajah)

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