Month: May 2020

I’m Tired

I asked her where she wanna be when 25/She turned around and looked at me and said “alive” – Kanye West (Welcome To The Jungle)

I’ve never forced myself to make a post on here.

Somehow, it always feels natural.

It’s not uncommon for me to remember a past experience or a conversation or just naturally observe something happening around, and put my thoughts to it.

I’m grateful for these opportunities.

But this week has just been too much.

Yesterday, I literally got into a fight with someone after I put up a post on Facebook commemorating Biafra Remembrance Day.

A 22-year-old 100 level student was raped and murdered while reading in a church.

A 12-year-old child was raped by 11 different men.

A 16-year-old secondary school girl was murdered by a Nigerian police officer.

A black man was killed by cops in America. Yet again.

Riots are breaking out in America.

The Anonymous – a group of hacktivists just put out some of the most sickening things I’ve read in my life.

My friend’s brother has been missing since yesterday.

I’ve been sick to my stomach all day long.

I’m here asking myself, what is really going on?

I don’t really want to write anything today because I feel broken.

I’m tired.

I’m tired of being in the minority.

I’m tired of being an Igbo continually marginalized in Nigeria.

I’m tired of being a Nigerian in a world that looks at Nigerians through fraud tinted lenses.

I’m tired of being a part of a world where the police that is meant to serve and protect you will kill you just because you’re young, defenceless or black.

I’m tired of being identified as black or a person of colour in a racist world.

I’m tired of a world where women can’t move around freely without being afraid of being raped.

I’m tired of constantly wondering what it means to be a black woman.

Women are raped in churches, mosques and every single religious meeting place.

Going out every day and coming back home safe every day is underrated.

But it’s worse for a woman.

Women have to constantly be on guard or lookout even when they are at a party or club.

Instead of letting themselves have fun and enjoy, they have to be concerned about their drinks being drugged.

The fact that I’ll have to spend the rest of my life telling my baby sisters to be careful about my fellow men scares the shit out of me.

Society stays constantly pressed about what women wear and issues of decency, yet women get raped whether their bodies are covered or not.

During a robbery, a woman is scared about being robbed and getting raped.

War? Women are raped.

Riots, pogroms and religious fights? Women are raped.

Marriage? Women are raped.

Relationships? Women are raped.

Single? Women are raped.

At school? At work? At parties? At places of worship? At strip clubs?

While walking home? In their houses? At bus stops? At offices?

By their colleagues, relatives, coworkers, spouses, religious leaders, teachers, and all.

After raping them, it’s even more convenient to murder them.

I’m tired of men not actively speaking up of these issues and holding each other accountable.

Because it’s evident women are an endangered species, and it’s time we have this conversation.

Maybe the lyric above doesn’t clearly state what it means to be a woman in 2020.

But women just want to be alive, at least.

And while we let them live, can we also assure of them of the safety of their bodies and minds?

Strong Opinions Loosely Held

Show of hands, how many been taking notes? /Good, Leave everything on the table now/ On the real/This is your generation/Show, show your pain – Kendrick Lamar (Chapter Ten)

Every day, I question myself and my motives.

Why am I doing what I’m doing now?

Recently, I learned that our dreams, ambitions and motivations change just like the seasons. We hold on to some strongly, while we outgrow some others.

You don’t outgrow a dream because it has been achieved.

And outgrowing a dream doesn’t mean that dream was impossible to accomplish. Not achieving a dream isn’t a reason either.

We are just human beings, and change is the overall guiding light at our core.

At a point in time, some things do not make sense anymore, and there’s nothing you can do about it.

While like the proverbial sinking ship, you have to throw some dreams overboard so they don’t cause you to drown.

Some are for a while, and so one day, you have to walk out on water like Peter to retrieve them.

Whereas some others forever. Never to see the light of day.

Some dreams you hold on to strongly, while some others like opinions loosely.

Sacrifices: The Altar Of Creativity

Gave you heart and soul, stories of my pain/Feel naked ’cause I laid out all my glory and my shame/Caught fire just to have niggas ignore me and my flame” – J.Cole (Jodeci Freestyle)

The life of a creative is almost always lived on a knife edge.

Maybe because creatives are supposed to be daring and adventurous.

Or maybe because creatives are required to continually push the envelope.

Or just maybe because a life of creativity is a balancing act.

A balancing act between work and family.

A balancing act between moments of sustained creative highs and terrible despicable creative lows.

A balancing act between following an assured path and bucking the trend.

Game changer and sellout.

Celebrity status and cult following.

Underground and mainstream.

Staying put and retiring.

Tapping out and holding on.

Tested and trusted and uncertain and untried.

Old school and New school.

A creative shouldn’t care about validation, yet his work has to be validated by someone it has made some sort of impression on.

The life of a creative is an altar of sacrifices, with him standing on the knife edge.

A gymnast on a balance beam. Where all elements in the routine, as well as errors are noted by the judges.

Whether he chooses to keep standing on one spot or move, he gets cut either ways.


There’s no way I can pay you back/But the plan is to show you that I understand/You’re appreciated” – Tupac (Dear Mama)

What would you be sacrificing if we got married?

While making a list of questions to ask her on our first date, I added this.

Don’t ask me why I had a list of questions for a date in the first place.

It’s easier for people like you to talk to women unprepared. Shy people like us have to prepare for weeks ahead of the D-Day.

But why would you even bring up marriage on a first date?

Aren’t first dates supposed to be an opportunity for you to just enjoy each other’s company?

I truly have no idea. I guess shy people are stupid sometimes.
Yesterday, I saw an excerpt from Michelle Obama’s Becoming about motherhood and aspirations.

In her own words:

Something had to give — and it was my aspirations and dreams. I made that concession not because he said ‘you have to quit your job,’ but it felt like, ‘I can’t do all of this so I have to tone down my aspirations, I have to dial it back.

I felt uneasy the first time I saw it. I won’t even lie.

The idea that you might have a disagreement with your mother one day, and she’d say your existence was the reason why she never achieved all her ambitions is a bit unsettling.

I don’t know how many children will be comfortable hearing this.

But I kept thinking about it.

I kept going over it in my mind and I think she’s right.

I’ve lived by the maxim ‘Is it really sacrifices if you have to brag about it one day?’ for some time now.

Helps me whenever I start feeling entitled to someone’s time, attention or money just because of sacrifices I’ve made for them in the past.

But love is built on a foundation of sacrifices.

And the sacrifices of millions of mothers transcends financial, corporate, entrepreneurial or personal ambitions. It’s never just that.

Many women have had to stay in unfruitful, adulterous and even abusive and violent marriages for the sake of their children.

For some housewives, inadequate financial resources weren’t their only reason for staying.

Most couldn’t stomach the idea of some other woman coming in to raise their children.

Others didn’t want their children growing up in a divided household, a la broken families.

I’ve heard countless stories like this, and it’s deeply unsettling.

I don’t live in Obama’s household and so I can’t claim to understand the power dynamics or structure of their relationship.

But if there’s one thing I know, many sacrifices have to be made for ambitions to be achieved.

Any worthwhile ambition at all.

And being the wife of the President of the United States of America would have required a ton.

People have had different takes on this topic since yesterday, but whatever way you look at it, motherhood is really a bedrock of pure unadulterated sacrifices.

A litany of unpayable debts.

And if your mother had to make any sacrifices for you to get to where you are today, then fuck it! She has a right to brag about it.

After all, there’s a long list of women who’d rather die childless than go through the mental rigours of being a parent.

And it’s not because they are not good people. Everyone just has their own choices.

So, Happy Mother’s Day to every mother out there making sacrifices for their families.

In the famous words of the late Tupac Amaru Shakur, you’re appreciated!

Coping With Corona IV

“…no one can do it this long” – Kanye West ( No One remix)

Hey, I have no idea how you’ve managed to hold it down so far, but I just want to let you know that you are doing great.

It’s been crazy the times we live in.

Over the last few months our whole lives have been continually flipped in different ways, and I don’t say this to scare you but things are far from being normal.

Things will never be the same again.

We’ll just have to adapt to this brave new world and make it our new normal.

But would that be really such a bad thing?

I mean, if you think about it deeply, there are many potential benefits that would come out of this crisis.

Our mostly ignored health care system would have to be looked into.

Governance will never be the same again.

Our idea of relationships will be continually challenged.

Our educational system will have to go through something akin to seismic.

The internet? Our lives? Businesses?

The world we expected in fifty years is closer than we thought.

It’s funny how tragedy has to happen for true change to occur.

I’ve been reading a little less nowadays and seeing a lot more movies. It’s funny how it took the world grinding to a halt for me to take things easier.

I’ve been writing a lot too.

I think more than I’ve ever been.

Maybe that’s why I’m putting out a post by 11pm after working on a writing project for over a week.

I’ve always touted the idea of employing the services of a stenographer, and I would as soon as I have enough for it of course.

Writing is back-breaking work, but it’s the best form of therapy that I know.

That’s why I’m writing to tell you that no one can manage all that has been happening alone and on their own, but since we’ve got each other, we can.

Stay safe. It always gets better.