OREKELEWA (1)

HELLO FRIENDS, WE HAVE OREKELEWA, A STORY BY LUMI (@lumi_slim) UP TODAY. OREKELEWA IS A YORUBA WORD THAT SIMPLY TRANSLATES AS BEAUTIFUL. LET’S JUST SAY ‘DROP DEAD GORGEOUS’. IT WOULD RUN FOR A FEW WEEKS. PLEASE READ AND ENCOURAGE HIM BY SHARING AND DROPPING A FEW LINES OF YOUR THOUGHT. THANKS FOR 2013 AND HAVE A WONDERFUL 2014. BLESSINGS…

The argument was intense, it lasted about 90 minutes, time I should have invested in the just concluded Chelsea match. This however was one topic very dear to my heart.

Tayo had told me about his friend who cried because his babe threatened to leave him. Half interested, I answered with “how I go dey cry for babe when dem no dey do me”. I did not know I was lighting his fuse. I was surprised by his reaction. His temper flared and he started ranting, calling me names.

Calming him down, I explained how I just could not imagine myself sulking over some babe. “I be sure boy nah, all these babes no worth make i pour water from my cup talk less of letting a tear roll down my cheek”.

We had gone on and on, my opponent’s strong point being I never give room for love, so I wouldn’t know how it feels. After all was said and maybe not done, Tayo said “you go jam your own soon”. I laughed hysterically, the kind that has the “ROTFL” emoticon in a chat situation. Teasing him, I said “only your kid sister can make me cry”.

He flung the remote in my direction and we laughed. Truth be told though, his sister was done and dusted later that night.

It was a cold night, barely 2 weeks after the argument and I was up for no reason. You know one of those nights when your eyelids just refuse to get shut. I decided to find solace on Twitter and as fate would have it the first tweet I read was “anyone up? I’m bored”.

My signature evil grin came up once I clicked the avi and saw a cute babe’s picture, it wouldn’t be a boring night after all. After responding to the tweet, I subsequently transferred the gist to DM. She did not ‘dull’ me.

We had gone on and on that night till someone’s battery went flat, I can’t remember whose but I remember vividly that I had a smile on my face when I finally surrendered to sleep. “This one shouldn’t take more than one week to kill”, I thought as I drifted off to dreamland.

After 3 days, we set up a meeting. My one week target was firmly in mind. I had cleverly picked a spot under a tree close to the library where I was to meet her. My patience was wearing off after about 30 minutes of searching through the faces going in and out of the library. Nostalgia crept in at that instant. I started remembering how bad I had missed school days and the unquantifiable conquests in the p-setting business. The library was one of the most fertile grounds to set the P 😉

One of the rules of the blind date game is “never judge the person you’re coming to see with the picture you’ve seen”.

“If this babe no fine, na to discharge am straight. The not so good looking ‘Eves’, who wicked people call ‘ugly’, sure know how to pin one down”.

I was brought back from my reverie when a certain voice said “Hey, you must be Mr. Twitter”. I turned around to register my displeasure with the stranger, instead my jaw dropped. You know how it is when words get stuck in your throat when you finally meet your favorite celebrity in person…I was star-struck!

Truth be told she wasn’t the most beautiful girl I have met, I just could not quite place what it was about her that muted me.

Swallowing hard, I found my voice and muttered “Hi, yeah I am…not Mr. Twitter though, I’m me”. I was blabbing, the well rehearsed lines had flown away and I just could not seem to find my groove. I choked big time. She bailed me out and took over.

“I’d rather call you Mr. Twitter, call me whatever you like”. I had regained my composure by then. She paused and I said “Anything?”.

Her response was swift, “Anything”, she affirmed. From nowhere the name came and I called her “Órékélęwa”. She smiled.

DEAR CHILD BY ABIMBOLA ADEBAYO

Hello folks. I have Abimbola Adebayo, one of my wonderfully naughty friends on here today. He is an incurable bachelor who told me he wrote a letter to one of the children he has not yet allowed to come strut their stuff here. Please enjoy reading. Comments would be greatly appreciated

This letter is dedicated to Damilola Adedeji for inspiring me to write.
Dear Child, 
I have no doubt that you are fine. I based this on the fact that there is no terrorism or wickedness of any sort where you presently are. I am very sure also that your meals get served on time. You are still in the best place so I have no worries about your feeding, at least for now. 

Since I got here, I cannot remember what sort of meal my friends and I took while we waited to cross the divide to this place some decades ago. My friends ( Seye, Lekan, Tosin, Damilola, Tolu and a whole lot of us) have not had manna since we came here, so get well nourished before I call you to come down here.

I should sound you a note of caution that you cannot call all these friends of mine by their name when you finally join us. Even for unrepentant bachelors like Seye, you will call them ‘Daddy’ because we lay strong emphasis on culture and respect in this part of the world where your potential mother and I live. I used the word ‘potential’ because I am not sure if have met her yet.

I hear you have been grumbling about the fact that you are not strutting your stuff here yet.(Sigh heavily) I would be sincere, it was never in my plans to delay your coming. In fact, my plan was that by now one or two others would have joined you.

It is not your business but I should let you know I intend having you and just two others. My reasons for that decision would be known when you get here.

The plan I had before was to raise you with a wonderful lady, who unfortunately deserted ship before we could get offshore. We both had good, well-mapped out plans for you guys to live a fun and fulfilled life with us as family but as the saying goes “man proposes while God disposes”. Our parting was and even still a major heart break for me.

I am presently in the ‘market’, still looking out for a good mother for you guys and once I get one, be sure that I will summon you. 

After our break-up, a friend introduced me to something called “Rebound Dating” but rebound did not work for me so your coming may be delayed. 

Moreover, finding a good mother for you and wife for my humble self nowadays seems like chasing after wind this days. Women want God fearing men but when you take them inside the room and start talking about the gospel of Our Lord Jesus Christ then they complain of “dulling them”(whatever that means).

I believe however that there is never a time or place for true love. It happens accidentally, in a heartbeat, in a single flashing. I am on the lookout for that and will call for you as soon as that happens.

Enjoy the Garden of Eden and other side attractions while I prepare the ground for you. I love you already, and I await when you will arrive and like we all do here now, I’ll show you off on Facebook and other social networks.

Till I pen you another of these letters, have a swell time.

FAREWELL GRANDPA

THIS IS A TRIBUTE TO MY GRANDFATHER WHO WENT TO BE WITH THE LORD LAST WEEK. 

@me_ablad PENNED HIM A TRIBUTE AS HE WOULD BE COMMITTED TO MOTHER EARTH TODAY. PLEASE READ AND DROP A COMMENT. THANKS AND HAVE A BEAUTIFUL WEEKEND

 

Friday 6th December 2013,

I lay in my bed like a log of wood,

And stared into my phone screen without seeing anything.

 

I had enough airtime to burn,

Yet fewer people to talk to,

I could’ve called dad to joke as usual,

But joke, hmm, that was a no go area,

Because he was home,

Sitting beside you and using,

A serrated old hand fan,

To blow natural air to you,

Or singing some melancholy song,

To serenade you to your final home,

Your final home…

 

I could’ve called my aunt too,

But she, loving you like no one else,

And being your only daughter,

Was on her way to the village,

To meet you and give some love,

As she always did.

 

In anger, I shut down my Nokia phone,

You may know that phone, you should,

The one I used to call my youngest uncle, your youngest son,

Who seemed, in a long time, to have strayed,

Like bullets from the barrels of some drunken policemen,

So you talked to him, to come home for some important purposes.

The poor boy, he didn’t even come home, or did he?

Until, probably, your final journey into the mother earth.

 

I always prayed,

That your home-call, If it was time,

Should be quick and easy.

Aunt had told me how grave your sickness was,

How you had been saying things. Things.

Things that had no meaning to the mortals,

Perhaps you had been seeing the other worlds,

Perhaps you had been talking to the angels,

Perhaps your spiritual driver was wasting your time,

And making you suffer.

 

Suffer.

That I least wanted,

Not for someone like you,

Someone whose love was felt,

Like the cold harmattan breeze of December,

Tearing into the lung, into the heart,

Making us shake and wear thick cloth.

Such was your love.

 

Still in bed, my door opened without knock.

Amidst my tiredness,

I turned my head to see who it was,

 It was my younger cousin,

He came in and said,

“Grandpa is dead”

That was sad news, was it?

I opened my mouth,

Unable to say anything,

And heaved a deep sigh,

 

Hmm, grandpa,

I am going to miss the moments we had together,

And so many things about you.

Can you remember some three months ago?

When I came home,

You said if you died then,

It wasn’t a sorrowful one,

You believed you had come and conquered,

You believed you were fulfilled.

 

When I was very much younger,

You told me about the civil war,

That one day, on your farmland,

Bending over an old cutlass,

And tilling a piece of land for planting,

Some Nigerian soldiers came around,

And asked you for some water,

Then you willingly supplied it,

But I wrote this, to tell the world,

That I had a grandpa, who was worth having,

So your death, coming like an inevitable groom,

For his bride,

Took you away from earth’s many troubles,

So we couldn’t be sad,

Because we are sure,

That you are at home,

The paradise,

And by the silent streams of heaven,

In a vast garden of awesome flowers,

There a hammock of comfort,

Bears you up, to a space of comfort,

 

Please, Baba Morenikeji Elijah Adekanmi,

Rest in the peace of our Lord Jesus Christ,

I am your grandson,

Adekanmi Abiodun Solomon Alao.

LUMI’S MUSING – EMBRACE YOUR AWESOMENESS BY OLUMIDE OLAWALE

Ever wished you were someone else? A better face, more curves in the right places (whatever that means), less fat or more muscles, you know the six pack thingy right? Maybe for you it’s the preference for the British accent as against the thick Igbo intonation that flows freely from your vocal chords, a more rounded face, better height or what have you…the list can be endless!!! Whatever you think you are lacking or have in excess (as in the case of our thick madams), this is what I think.

*You were molded by the master in His own image, so you’re a master piece. He does not make mistakes hence you are not one. Yes, I mean that your bow leg is no mistake! (Inserts straight face)
* The person you wish you are like also wishes to be someone else. So you’ll probably end up trying to be someone else if you succeed at becoming your ‘model person’. Confusing right?
* It pays to be accepted for who you are without the pressure to be someone you really do not know how to be.
* You cannot please everyone! Even as awesome as I am, it is the one thing I have failed at.
* Stop looking at your imperfections as shortcomings. They are in fact what stand you out from the crowd!!! 

Finally, start everyday with a greater resolve to be a better version of yourself. You wanna get into shape? Exercise! You still remain the Yokozuna size, love you. No one can do that better. Look at it as standing out in the crowd.

Life as we know is short… live, laugh, learn!!! 

I am @lumi_slim on twitter

THIS IS FOR YOU ’NIFEMI. LIVE LONG AND PROSPER

This will not be posted on your birthday ’Nifemi. It will come some hours after. You may not know exactly why. You might ‘understand’ that work has taken my time of recent, the same work that has made my muse complain of lack of attention to her. Work or whatever it is that has made writing an irregular thing nonetheless, I will celebrate you with a few lines.

You came into the family when another sibling was what we (Yinka and I) craved. I cannot say the gender Yinka wanted but I wanted a sister. I looked enviously at our next wing neighbours, a quartet that had both genders in twos, and I prayed God to give us a sister too.

I was old enough to know Momma was ‘double’ but you did not come till after I left home for the Boarding House. When the news got to me a fortnight after you came, I was overjoyed. I finally had another sibling, at least it would not be just me and Yinka again. Gender paled into insignificance as I took my bath in the junior bathroom in my hostel back then in Olivet Heights, Oyo, one of my melting pots. This story was years ago.

Thank God you have come in leaps and bounds. Making everyone of us in the nuclear family proud of you as your life has been a testimony some supposedly close people do not even know. In the hard times, you were unable to attend school for a few days at a time or the other but your performance did not drop. Your Common Entrance, Junior Secondary exams and private O/Levels surprised all.

I remember seeing you grow like a weed. Do you remember the days when I took you to your primary school, Subuola Memorial in Ibadan, and we had banters while trekking from the junction to school? I always had this good feeling about you.

Your “niceness” as a child has not left you for one second. Nifemi, you had a way of saving monetary gifts to buy yourself things. Saving up to buy phones you gave out willingly when any of us had issues with ours. Your Nokia 5110 for use in the family’s commercial telephone business, Nokia 1110 to Yinka, your Samsung ‘free i’ to me, your visaphone to Momma among many others. Giving things to people when it was not as if you had no need for them was a feature you had, and still have. Your large heart is beyond comprehension!

Your dedication and commitment to things you do is first grade. You once told me you want to play football and went about saving for your kits. From school to your club training back then with total focus and singularity f purpose can’t easily be forgotten. You came home tired in the evening, but there was a look of satisfaction on your face. If your academic performance had not dropped a bit to make Dad force you to stop, maybe you would have represented Nigeria some years ago.

Seeing how well you have soaked yourself into music, your next love after football, is something worth praising. Your dedication is second to none I have seen. Please keep it up kiddo, I am proud of you.

Momma was expressing concern that you were not attending any lesson after school. She wanted the best for you always but there was one reason or the other for you not to attend. Your SSCE came and you wowed us all. Some folks did not expect you would make good grades because you did not attend any extra lesson. You proved that extra lessons or attending a public school are no excuses for poor grades.  You went a step further by ‘spanking’ your UTME, an exam the ‘olodo’ in me did not pass.

As you add a year, look up and aim higher. There are steps to take as you approach a milestone in the next twelve months. Now is no time to rest brother. Push harder and get to heights I could not reach at your age. You can be sure you have my support, as well as Yinka’s. Dad’s support is very obvious as you are the only one who has followed him into the Humanities. Make Momma proud as you always have.

You have made your shares of mistakes you have discovered yourself. Correct them and use them as the springboard for bigger and better things. I assure you of my unalloyed support little bro (I know those who admire the ‘fine boy’ in you don’t like me calling you that). I am very sure wherever our parents have reached that both Yinka and myself have surpassed will be your starting point. Go for glory kiddo, don’t stop till you surpass whatever standards we have set. Have at the back of your mind that we aren’t resting though, so your work is cut out *winks*

Happy New Year aburo mi atata. Long life is your portion. Your life would be decorated beyond your expectations and you will not disappoint destiny in Jesus name. I love you to the cells kiddo. I LOVE YOU, or like you once wrote to me in Spanish, “te amo mucho”. Best wishes kiddo