For the one with whom infinity will not be enough.

 

To the one who will ask, for the one that’ll hear my vows; ‘I do’ wrapped up in lilac.

 Two words dressed in apparent frailty, spoken with strength and certainty. Carried by love that I convey and that which I do not know I am capable of:

I don’t have a list, that’s how I know your love will constantly leave me in awe. When I pray about you there are two things which have been spoken of; that you love him recklessly and are totally dependent on him. That you become the shepherd’s tree, with roots unbelievably deep in Christ, so, each time I look at you I’m reminded of Christ’s love for me. The second is that you be taller than me.

To the one that the father prepares for me, I am being prepared too. I am learning patience, and my faith is being watered. I know that the world is changing, I pray that you remain anchored.

To the one who will love me every day after we meet, I’m constantly evolving, tomorrow never meets me the same as yesterday did- you have your onions set out for you, a discovery every day. It is certain you’ll be kept on your toes and life will never be a bore with me.

To the one who will wait at the altar as I emerge in silk drapes, and yes you will be crying- I pray that you plant, reap and rest. In that order.

I absolutely cannot wait to do life with you, walking on water, leaning on you, trusting wholly and exhaling. I’ve been holding my breath for way too long.

I look forward to the moments where we’ll discuss our lives up until when we met, how our lives had been simultaneously meaningless and meaningful. Our meeting, the last piece of the puzzle- our picture becoming just like the master intended.

I want you to know that you have your work cut out for you with; flaws, quirks, sensitivities and a bunch of other things. I hope than when you look at me you do not think for one minute that our walk will be easy, that you acknowledge what an inconvenience it will be, that you count the things it will cost you, that you recognize the expectations our cocoon will birth, and still choose us.

I know that with you I’ll never question my sacrifices, that as I put you first, you do same. I’m convinced that I’ll never have to ask if I'm giving too much. This love will be sure, enough, and a safety net. That your arms will be synonymous to expressiveness, I will not have need to hide. That my soul forgets what it is to hide with you.

I know that we will fight, I look forward to growing with you, learning your quirks and the things that make you tick tick tick.

I cannot wait to be your friend, to be home. To be the place that unravels you. That with me you become undone- vulnerability, softness and warm hugs await you. I know without a doubt that even when I get tired and when my energy is diminishing you will continually pour into me. Its how I’ll know that you’re the one for me. Wanting for me and not from me.

Until then, my soul mate, you’re strengthened in your evolution,

Just as I am.

All of my love.

 

Transportation Palava.

I live in the Capital. For clarity, I reside in Abuja the city of hustling, bustling and mad road men. These mad road men that I speak of have made it their goal to ruin my trust in road activities. They are the only reason my house is safer and better than the outside.

I do not have a car and if I did, ‘me no fit drive’. The roads of Abuja will always be either too smooth or too rough. The steering wheels and tires of these machines that the ‘oyinbo’ man has brought to us will remain my enemies. I will walk, and in the process burn some calo calo. I’d rather walk than leave my life's longevity to these mad men.

See, in this madness thing there are ranks. Taxi drivers come last in this pyramid, I am convinced that they have been told that only those who speed will make heaven. That is the only explanation I have for the racing of my heart each time I take one. A close second goes to ‘keke na pep’ drivers, I leave them at the feet of God, the Judge of all. Finally, the Kings and owners of Abuja roads, ‘okada’ men. Ah! As a matter of fact, I believe that they have an association and there are meetings held with my picture with a goal  to frighten me.

I promise you; I’m not lying there is proof. Let me tell you, my story.

Two days ago, I had to rush to my sister’s school to give her something that she needed for her exam, the exam was for 8:00 am and my landlords told me some minutes to 8- the thing is I don’t do anything impromptu and because of this if you saw me on the road that day, you might have questioned if it was me. Days like that leave me thinking I have a second nature, ‘a bambiala’ nature. I walk out of my estate gate and stop the first bike man I see, ‘oga small small’ oh, is the first thing I say, because it is not like this I will go and meet my Jesus.

He nods his head and I struggle to climb his instrument of movement as usual, and hold on to the metal behind me (rear grip), if you’ve seen me, you know how small my hands are- I strongly believe the only thing a person has to hold on to so tight is a relationship God, but I did not want to fall. It was either that or hold the ‘okada’ rider, if you gerrit you do! If not, another day. My hands were sweaty and my heart was going faster than flash could ever.

We proceed to take the shorter route, and my people, the bumps on that road had my bum lifting severally from the seat and my leg slipping from the area provided for legs (footpeg). ‘Ahn, is it like this I will go?’ ‘I’ve not even told the man I like how I feel about him, and we would’ve worked oh’, ‘so, like this I will never collect allowee’ these are a few of the thoughts that ran through my mind. I’ve not even lived at all at all. Ahn no. these men are wicked.

I got to the school oh! my brethren, asked the man to kindly wait for me so that he will take me back. Bear in mind that this young Lady’s school is on a hill, ahnn, what if like Jack and Jill I came tumbling down? What next? It even appeared to me that the man thought to himself, if this girl survived the first round, this will be nothing. Na so Oga enter gear 1million. If he was flash before, lightening was what he became. To think I was busy saying small small, and making exclamations so he’ll get a hint and slow down. He did not slow down oh.

That is how the journey ended oh, I got to the gate of my estate and gave him his money. Guess what? His ears were plugged through out the journey! Listening to music, how was he even hearing the horns? These men are not of this world, they belong somewhere in between the clouds.

Brethren! In all get wisdom, and avoid the actual owners of Abuja roads!

 

Children of Blood and Bone (how chapter 79 should have ended)

 

He’s supposed to be safe.

   Mama Agba is with him, protecting him so I must be seeing things. Maybe they’ve become so versed in magic that they can make a person who’s not present seem like they are. These are the thoughts that simultaneously barge my mind when I see him.

   Baba looks beaten and I’m unable to reconcile him with the Baba that I actually know. His eyes are blood red, his back hunched, and he is unable stand straight- somehow, he still manages to look at me with love in his eyes. ‘I love you’ he mouths. The first thing that comes to my mind is that he should save his energy. It’s not until I see who holds him that Rage kisses my brain. Inan.

   The artefacts in exchange for Baba’s life. this is what Saran has requested.

   I still remember Mama chained by magicite, her magic evaporating into the air, the helplessness in her eyes and the limp form her body takes. They will not take Baba from me. Magic resides in me, I’ve been chosen by the gods, Oya will not forsake me. King Saran interrupts my thoughts and my body shivers, the trauma from the tattooed words on my back still very present, a reminder that I’ll always be maggot to him.

   I step forward about to surrender, because Baba cannot go, clutching the sunstone and dagger to my chest- placing them at the feet of Saran, secretly whispering to Oya to do something, I say every incantation I’ve learnt since this started. Ba mi Soro, jo. You can’t leave me now. It starts from my fingertips and inscriptions begin to light up my skin, Oya has woken is the first thing that comes to my mind like she was ever asleep. The temple begins to tremble and that statue of our ancestors begin to light up.  

   Saran and Inan exchange a look, one that requires Inan to attack. He picks up his arrow ready to shoot at the same time I makeup my mind that not another life will be lost. So, for Mama, Bisi, Lekan, Zulaikha and the many lives lost, I call on Oya to one more time express her rage through me. Light so bright is vomited through my fingertips, I stretch my hands to each of them, on opposite sides of the temple and I let go. The light weakens them so much they fall to their knees, I’m yet to decide if I want them dead. Inan for once again shattering my heart and Saran for the million maji lives lost. Even their guards are blinded by the light so they cannot attack. I shout at Roen and Kenyon to get my father, rescue the artefacts and run. Oya is with me, I’ll be fine.

   I brush off the sting that I feel when not even Roen asks if I’m sure I want to be left alone, and focus on Saran and his soldier son. When I see that their bones have turned custard, I ask Oya to carry me and she does. I’ll deal with the angry betrayed team when I get there.

   Baba could not die. Not with me standing there.