Monthly Archives: January 2013

Murder in the First Degree


You murdered love
What sort of beast does that?

Seated quietly,gently
Eyes flashing a smile
A smile without any guile
Reminding us of the cool evening breeze
Like the sweet caress of the squeeze
The release of pheromes into the night air with so much ease.

Walking gayly, brazenly
Speaking soothing words like surds
Reminding us of how irrational we can be
When we meet that someone we see
To be the only one meant for we
We become voiceless like the letter ‘p’.

You murdered love.

Did I not give you enough
Even when times were rough
Did I get tough
Did I cough
Out anything vile
Did I raise bile
Didn’t I smile
Always and say to you just a little while

Was I not always there for you
Even when I knew
That the scent that you
Had on you your shirt blue
Was a clue
That there was another
Another lover
Another lover with greater power
The one you call Sugar.

I gave you my love
But you chose her or him or it
The more I tried
The more you prefered
her or him or it
I even cried
Please leave her or him or it
but no…no

You murdered love

And now seated here
Half a score years of queer
Battered bruised and disillusioned
Pained, harrowed and neglected
Crazed, maddened, condemned
To a life without love
Because love died

You mudered  love
And love died because you
You taught me well and I learnt
I learnt to forget
I learnt to forget to love
I learnt to to forget to love anyone including you.

You murdered love
You murdered me.


Posted by on January 23, 2013 in Poetry


Let’s Monkey Around

Do you know why Michael Jackson had a monkey as a pet? Er…same here?

Now for some serious monkey business.

The smallest monkeys are five to six inches small, that’s the length of an average man’s penis (you can just imagine a monkey hidden in a man’s crotch). While some are way larger, they all share some common characteristics and in this post we will see just how much we can improve our lives by learning from monkeys.

Monkeys are good with their hands. The baby monkey learns the world with its hands and can adapt its hands to various activities. Today, more and more entrepreneurs prefer monkeys – people who can work with their hands or have a lot of practical knowledge. It would be a good idea, then, while in school to not just get a theoretical knowledge of things as this is of little value in the real world if not supported by practical skills. Has one of the defects of the Nigerian educational system not been that it produces graduates that are unemployable because they lack basic skill sets? If our administrators will learn from monkeys then they will develop and implement a curriculum that is practical oriented.

Related to this is the monkeys ability to imitate. You can teach a monkey maany things that it can not only learn but even use them to outsmart you as a human. Monkeys are teachable. Are you?

Being teachable is way different from being quick to understand things. It means having the humility (among other things) to sit at someone’s feet to learn from them. It means not being quick to point out how you want others to live to make things easier for you but how you can contribute to make life easier for them. A teachable person will listen, learn and then imitate what he has been taught. We are here reminded of a classroom where the students are expected to listen to the teacher and learn from them. In the real world however, every experience in life is a teacher and only those who are humble-like a monkey-can learn life’s lessons and improve.

As my friend @Jesseoguns puts it, life is often full of ‘useless knowledge’ but we can ‘spot the patterns and join the dots at intersections’. We do not have to be the smartest people in the room to learn we just have to find the smartest ways in which to learn: we can either learn from our own mistakes or from the mistakes of others. The important thing is that we do learn and become better individuals. So you do well to ask yourself, in what way can I be more teachable? This blogpost offers an interesting perspective    

Monkeys do not like to be cuddled by humans. Monkeys know their kind and will only happily accept displays of affection from their kind. This seems like a basic principle but many times we humans do not know how to identify our kind. We often give or want to receive affection from the wrong people. Have you not heard it said that good girls are attracted to bad boys and vice versa?  If we would be like monkeys then we would set up a criteria before which we can get emotionally involved with people and stick to it. For some, a basic ground for a relationship could be that the person loves God and their fellowman. A man may decide that he will only marry a woman that meets with certain requirements: Is she clean? Can she cook? Is she respectful? Such criteria are often based on what is of paramount importance to the individual in question and what he or she is bringing to the table. What moral justification does a man who cheats on his girlfriend have to be wishing for a failthful wife? Be like a monkey-stick to your kind.

Monkeys are also clever and curious yet they know how to have fun.

So, do you now know why Michael Jackson had a monkey as a pet? Oh well…same here:)

Let’s make it a date same place next week! In the mean time let’s keep learning from animals.

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Posted by on January 16, 2013 in Lessons From Animals


Dear God, Help My Bro For He is a FO_OL

It’s over! It’s over! It’s definitely over!

Sorry, dear sir, if I don’t bow and cower
If I sit back and sip juice that’s sour
If all I do is think of how to wager
Your sudden outburst for a naira note
Or two. For your chants have become rote
And your words on air cannot float.

No! Surely this time its over. I saw
In full glare of the moon her claw
Painted red and her lips looking sore
From the kisses of the lips of another
They stood holding each other
Whispering words lover to lover

Oh I see, dear sir but didn’t you
The last time claim that you saw two
She and and another female too
The one that turned out to be her sister
Her true sister from another mother
Whom you were yet to discover?

Are you trying to say I am fickle?
That words from my mouth just trickle?
That I can not swish a sickle
And cut off this girl who has brought
Me nothing but pain and taught
Me nothing but shame in love’s sport.

Far be it, kind sir, for me to point out
The obvious or stand in line and shout
That I don’t know what this love’s about
Half the time she is with another man
All her brother’s names sound like Dan
The other day she asked for money for Stan

She seems to have made a dummy
Of you, so you can call her mummy
And think all her food is yummy
Even after the socalled break up
Can you remember the cause, the shake up
She still did ask you money for make up

Tring tring goes the phone
Who else is calling? She, not a clone
I hear her voice in an undertone
My bro rises and rushes for the keys
Drops it once, twice! He caught the shakies
He is off, didn’t even wait for breakies

Dear God, help my bro, for he is a FO_OL

Of them the proverbs are true: “A dog returns to its vomit,” and, “A sow that is washed goes back to her wallowing in the mud.” ~ 2nd Peter 2:22


Posted by on January 14, 2013 in Poetry


Wake Up Call

At death, on the tombstone, an epitaph
On peoples lips, a song, no a dirge
Lips moving out of sync
Muttered words of pain
Single words, then torrents, a surge
Hearts bleeding, on the brink
Heads wag in disdain
Pam’s words, captured true, in hieroglyph

A single line
Written fine

You remind me daily to forget how to love everyone…including you.

The throng, a crowd, a funeral procession
Chants low, rhythmic, their voices haunting
Each with a shade of why?
Why her? Why now?
Death walks, smile aflaunting
Sweetness had to die
Pam has taken the final bow
Does she have hope of a ressurection?

The single line
Etched in mind

You remind me daily to forget how to love anyone…including you.

Those words, the famous last words
Words he’ll remember to the end of time
Words I spoke, eyes glazed unseeing
Eyes that were once full of life, of love
I remembered a season, another clime
My love used to touch his very being
He said my voice was sweet, like a dove
Carrying, floating off on wings like a bird

That single line
I left behind

You remind me daily to forget how to love anyone…including you

Listen to him:

Cover me with sackloth and ashes
Let me see only darkness and gloom
For with my own hands I murdered love
By my actions I destroyed the light in my life
I see the day, in fragments in flashes
The day on which came my doom
I should have left her, I swear by Jove
The push that snuffed out her breath, her life

The single line
In death define

You remind me daily to forget how to love anyone…including you.

Oh that you were alive in another man’s arms
Oh that you left and kept yourself from harm
Oh that you had listened to e’ry one, your fam
Oh that we never met, my true love my Pam
I let my anger pitch me against you
My jealousy a great force against you
My rage, a burning fire against you
My obsession dressed like love against you

And quietly one drop at a time your love for me slipped away
And all I stared at was an empty shell, day after day
I curse the very day I met you I should have walked away
My heart has tricked me, my feet has led me astray

The single line
I hear in my jail

You remind me daily to forget how to love anyone…including you.

Wake up call! Alas it was just a dream
No a nightmare, the nightmare I’ll be
Forced to die if I stay, if I
Do not walk away
The voice in my head a scream
Shouting softly, the voice telling me
‘Walk steadily away, don’t cry
Leave now, today’

I took the walk and I’ve never looked back.

Wisdom is the prime thing~Proverbs 4:7


Posted by on January 12, 2013 in Poetry


From Bedbugs, With Love.

Sleep tight…
Hope the bedbugs don’t bite…

I’m very sure a lot of us have used those lines to bid our loved ones goodnight. On the other hand, some of us have been exposed to the menace of bedbug bites; which include reddish welts on our skin at the point of the bite and bloody bed sheets. Indeed, when we think of bedbugs, all we may remember is blood sucking pests. And we all hate pests. But, did you know we can learn from the bedbug? Here are some bits and bites you may want to learn from:

Sit tight….
And I hope the bedbugs don’t bite…

Bedbugs develop through a gradual process involving seven stages, each stage requiring a blood feed to proceed. If there’s an animal that knows about gradual milestones, it has to be the bedbug. What do we learn from this? Do you know the importance of taking short measurable steps especially when you want to learn something new or ditch a bad habit?

Psychologists and counselors have published various papers on using reinforced positive behavior as well as Neuro- Associative Conditioning (NAC) to break difficult habits/ addictions. For instance, if you want lose some weight by dropping high calorie foods and running 55km every week; you can break it down into small bits of achievable steps and rewarding yourself with a trophy at the end of each step.

I take myself out to see a movie once every two months if I keep of sugar and its derivatives; today I’m ten months sober. This little gesture helped to encourage me via positive reinforcement. If we import this characteristic into our daily life, just like the bedbug, in tiny but sure steps, we shall achieve our set goal(s) eventually.

If you want to quit smoking or drinking , you could drop every Naira you would have blown on cigarettes/alcohol in a piggy bank. What you get at the end of the week would surely ginger you to do more.

As far as endurance and resilience goes, I can’t think of anything that beats the bedbug. At a length of just a quarter of an inch, these insects can survive in extreme conditions with just a third of its weight left. They can go for a year without food, and survive for up to five days in temperate conditions nearing -100C! Just imagine if humans could do that naturally, we would be able to spread and live in places like Alaska, Antarctica and The Himalayas thus reducing the current highly expanding population density. This will also abate our resource distribution problem. But we can copy the resilient bedbug.  Imagine how many more dreams would come true as humans won’t be giving up too easily as they seem to be accustomed to, students would do better at school, men would be more patient, service delivery would improve, we would calm enough at all times to see the importance of others and perhaps our world would be a perpetual utopia.

More still, this characteristic of the bedbug also demonstrates the belief in the phrase: no condition is permanent. This is something a lot of us need to emulate knowing fully well that change is the only constant in nature. Besides, with life there’s hope and by virtue of what we are- human beings- we only live and hope for better days; so why despair? Be resilient like the bedbug!

Do we still remember telepaths from the popular action fiction comic series- XMEN, Jean Grey and Prof Charles Xavier? They are able to read the most subtle thoughts of those around them, communicate with those around them at a more subliminal level. Bedbugs have a similar technology though theirs involve the use of pheromones to sense mates and breeding sites as well as carbon dioxide receptors to sense other living warm blooded animals which provide their main source of food (blood), wherever they are domiciled. Please find solace in the fact our case is not hopeless as we also posses the same pheromone receptors. We use it to sense our lover within a common enclosed space without seeing them amongst other quite subtle things.

But then there’s more, as I’m quite convinced we can do more to exploit these latent gifts. I’m not asking you to develop ESP (extra sensory perception) or become a telepathic mutant; all I’m saying is we can be quite as perceptive as the bedbug of the numerous pertinent and subtle stimulus in our environment. This will help our communication become a lot better which will translate to healthier and more wholesome relationships. With this singular benefit, we can safely assume that the utopia we all dream off ain’t so far after all.

I hope the bedbugs have been accommodating enough so far by lending us some of their characteristics for us to pick a few lessons from. I sure have learnt a lot and my skin is welts free. Until next time, let’s be as resilient as the bedbug. I am @chika365 on twitter. See you soon.

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Posted by on January 9, 2013 in General


Sisteh, He Ain’t For You

He gets angry when he sees you with another man
Has a fit because you have another fan
He doesn’t care if he’s one of your clan
Sisteh, he ain’t for you.

He keeps calling your phone to no end
Texting, chatting till you go round the bend,
He tells you he is just trying to be your friend.
Sisteh, he ain’t for you.

He rises against you with so much power
Talks down at you till you are forced to cower
He tells you he is your only rock, your tower
Sisteh, he ain’t for you

His spiritual awakening is zero
All he cares for is to be your hero
To take his place beside your pillow
Sisteh he ain’t gor you

He says he is the best that ever hap’d to you
Makes rules for things you should think or say or do
And when you don’t he raises his fist against you
Sisteh, he ain’t for you.

He won’t work with his hands
Once you have pay beside you he lands
Then he remembers beside you to stand
Sisteh, he ain’t for you.

He is the neighbourhood good guy
Every girl on the street stops by to say hi
My dear stop, don’t even try
Sisteh, he ain’t for you

Even if your biological clock is ticking
And every tongue against you is wagging
Fingers towards you are pointing
Laughter towards you is jeering

Sisteh, do not despair
Nothing is spoilt beyond repair
Better it is to remain single
Than with the wrong man to mingle

But if anyone stands settled in his heart, having no necessity, but has authority over his own willand has made a decision in his own heart, to keep his own virginity, he will do well ~ 1st Corinthians 7:37

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Posted by on January 8, 2013 in Poetry


e pluribus unum


Three voices in the wilderness.

Against The Rose they rose.

Their vision  to install direction to our collectve confusion


Drum beats!

Hear the rhythm of gloominess

Tears through our great land tears

Sacrfice in scores to the god of war yet he lurks craving for more.



Hearts full of covetousness

Wanton, fore’er wanting

Attacking in droves, packs of wolves,  plundering the open ground and even coves.


Until when?

When shall we say ‘back then’?

When shall we be freed from this lion’s den? From gluttonous eaters of flesh no longer content to steal with the pen?



A solo voice in the wilderness.

Rise Coctu Spectabilis, arise!

The fusion of vision; direction in confusion.

Collectively as one; disharmony and prejudice gone

Together we build a new Nigeria- e pluribus unum


Posted by on January 7, 2013 in Poetry