Featured Blogger

This Thing Called Love #6

FOR A COUPLE of weeks I couldn’t eat or sleep properly. Certainly, I was astounded by the unexpected turn of events. Is this real – or am I trapped in some demented nightmare? I wondered, severally. Before this time I’d often wondered how it felt to be heartbroken by a loved one. Now I knew firsthand. I felt like my heart was in fragments – a million and one fragments. Most of the time I was restless; and there were times I cried, bitterly. My world had been turned topsy-turvy. Once or twice I even contemplated suicide. How could Rachael do this to me? Why did Rachael do this to me? I thought repeatedly. An expression I once read in a magazine flashed constantly through my mind. It read: sometimes the good guys get the bad girls while the bad guys get the good girls. The former rang true in…

Say You Will Stay #19

It wasn’t light streaking into the room that woke Biba up. It was the familiar voice of the woman by the door. She winced as she woke completely. Realising that the taut body next to her had not been imagined. That the time when he pinned her hands to the bed and he teased her with his tongue had not been induced by the copious amount of wine she consumed. He was next to her and she was sure the voice she heard belonged to his wife. “Wake up,” she slapped his chest. “Anu is here.” She did not wait for him to open his eyes. She jumped out of bed taking the duvet with her. The dress she had on last night, her double-strapped, jewelled sandals and her underwear were strewn all over the room. She was bent double extracting her clutch bag from underneath the bed when the…

This Thing Called Love #5

MY SECOND AND final semester examinations were, finally, over. Thank goodness! I was certain I would finish with a good first class honours. Like most final year students it felt great to know that, at last, I was free from the academic shackles of my first degree. However, I knew, in some ways, I was going to really miss UNILAG.  No more student politics. No more meals at any of the cafeterias. No more frequent lagoon front visits. Moreover, I was going to miss the school because I had no intention of returning for my Masters Degree program – or any other program for that matter. My eyes were set elsewhere – on a renowned foreign university. After the second semester exams the students, staying in the various hostels, were required to vacate them and head for their respective homes – wherever they were. School was going on a long…

This Thing Called Love #4

IN MY FIFTH and final year I became the General Secretary of the National Association of Quantity Surveying Students (NAQSS), UNILAG Chapter. For a fairly long while some of the students in my department were quite unhappy with me. They, like their colleagues, had wanted me as the NAQSS President, which was the post I was initially gunning for during the election campaigning process. But due to certain political interests I had to step down for the guy who eventually emerged as the President. He was the then HOD’s mannequin. What my fellow students simply knew was that I had stepped down for someone they didn’t want…someone they didn’t like…someone who wasn’t academically on par with me. But what they didn’t know was why I had actually done that. I gave them what I considered to be the simplest excuse: I was no longer interested in becoming the Association’s President…

This Thing Called Love #3

Read previous episodes here RACHAEL AND I were in love, crazily in love, with each other. It was pure bliss. I was residing on cloud nine, sharing my life and aspirations with the girl of my dreams – or so it seemed. From the moment we actually became a couple I assumed full responsibility for her. You see, I was raised with the notion that a real man ought to treat his woman with utmost respect, handle her delicately, and take great care of her – meeting her every need, as humanly possible as he could. My father perfectly modelled this concept. What better example did I need? None! So, with this view firmly tucked in the recesses of my mind, I paid for Rachael’s campus accommodation because she lived quite a distance from UNILAG. I regularly bought her gift items such as clothes, bags, shoes, jewelleries, and other related…

This Thing Called Love #2

Read The Previous Episode TEACHING IS AN integral part of who I am. It’s an endeavour that was hard-wired into me right from above. Almost nothing gives me pleasure like impacting knowledge to other people. I started teaching when I was in primary four. However, I began earning some money from it when I got to senior secondary two. I worked, part time, for a Home Tutor Agency…teaching various subjects at both the primary and secondary school levels; and I continued with the job while I was at the University of Lagos studying Quantity Surveying. I met Rachael for the very first time during a teaching session. That particular morning, which turned out to be a lecture-free day for me and my course mates, I had gone to teach the fresh students in my department. I was in my fourth year at this time. These freshmen, who had just tasted…

This Thing Called Love #1

Hi fam! Here’s a new one from Ikenna Igwe. Please read and drop your thoughts. It runs for the entire week! BEFORE I BEGIN my story I’d like to say a few words about love. Yes, it’s a beautiful thing. And yes, being in love with someone who genuinely reciprocates it is nothing short of divine. So, when you do find true love, hold it dearly, nurture it carefully, and, more importantly, treat it with the respect it deserves. It’s true that love hurts. But let’s not forget…it also heals. Here is my story… I was reliable informed, by my parents, that I exited into our planet on a rainy Monday night, in the month of July, in the late 70’s. My mother had just finished eating dinner, and was about to drink a glass of water, when she felt some contractions in her womb. Yes, that was me, poking…

Say You Will Stay #18

Anu’s house was the biggest Isio had even seen in the UK. It was bigger than Funmi Lawal’s. With sprawling rooms that were decked in luxurious furniture and walls washed in vibrant magnolia. Outer buildings that were big enough to house families and a beautiful garden with stunning flowers, an apple tree and a magnificent treehouse for the children. The living room was painted in pale purple. It housed a few paintings and Isio gawked at one of them with batik patterns whilst Kanyin fetched drinks. Biba had rushed outside to take a call when they arrived. “The house belongs to my stepmother,” Kanyin had sneaked back in with a tray of drinks. “Daddy bought it for her as a birthday present three years ago.” “Really?” Isio did not think Kanyin’s father was that generous. Or perhaps he had to be generous to cover his affairs. It reminded her of…

Everything You Need To know About A Male Dog

EVERYTHING YOU NEED TO KNOW ABOUT A MALE DOG MY ONCE LITTLE PUPPY I used to have a puppy, a cute, brown furred, male puppy. He was obedient, loving, would lick at my feet; wag its tail around me. I gave him the best of things, feeding, attention and love. And he reciprocated. No matter what love anyone showed him, he remembered his home, me, his real owner. And he was like that until he comes of age. When he was about 2 and a half feet tall, he spends less time at home. Whenever he had the chance, he sneaks out, jumping over the fence. He spends less time at home. He was always with the neighbours. He spends the night outside in the street with one neighbour’s dog or another. When he returns, he got punished, a whole day tied, without food. He looked feeble and made me…

Navigate
%d bloggers like this: