Category: insight

Day 9

So I entered an odd mood last night and wrote this.


“You’re quite strong”

People have said this to me a lot. I’d smile and say Thank you but deep inside me, i chortle in disbelief.

Me? Strong? Since when?

I laugh because I know myself. I laugh because at night, I confront the true me. In the silence of midnight, my Cinderella moment disappears and the real person is revealed.



Easily hurt.

I laugh because of the clumsiness I encounter, trying to sort these feelings out. The feelings of inadequacy and need for support.

Now let me ask, Am I still strong?

Life has been unfair to me as it has to everybody. To the world, I have moved on with my life. I am smiling. I am achieving. You’re so strong. To have gone through all that and still be yourself. I smile and say Thank you.


You do not see the coward hiding behind fake smiles. You do not see the actress, passing the part of a satisfied lady. You do not see the cracks that appear when the mental burden becomes much. Of course, you cannot because I keep it under lock and key don’t I? I’m a strong woman that cries herself to sleep some nights just because life has been unfair.

Am I still strong?

My emotional detachment is amazing, I’ve been told. Celibate for so many years. You’re sooooo strong. I laugh.

They do not see the person that yearns for love. That wants to be held too. They do not see the one that struggles with her flesh for dominance. They do not see the one that craves the feeling of being wanted; to feel appreciated even for a moment.

Where is the strength?

No where.

I am a weak little shit.

Who is strong?

Lee, battling sickle cell anaemia is strong. She kicks, she fights. I notice. She is strong because she hasn’t given up yet.

Debbie, battling breast cancer is strong. Shaved head, slim, yet she resonates with strength. She resonates with a will to fight to live.

Chukwudi, your eyes are your problem. The first time you told me about it, I was so sad, I cried a little. You have not let the threat of blindness stop you from doing the things you love, from achieving, from writing. I pray your book makes it because you are strong and strong people deserve a fighting chance.

Uche, you were left with children because your husband decided he wanted to enjoy younger pussy. With your educational achievements in hand and God beside you, you made a way for yourself. You’re strong because you did not let yourself feel self pity for so long. You’re strong because you had a plan for you and your children and you pushed to make it happen.

They’re strong.

I am not.

I am just another pretender, struggling like everyone else.

I am weak because I am afraid of failing. I an afraid of failing again after failing. I am afraid of rejection.

I am just another pretender.

Not strong.





What is strength really?

Day 8

Today is the Sabbath and by the time you’re reading this, I’d probably be in the Temple.
Not sure why i wrote that. Lol.
Ummm… Got a headache so have no idea what to write on.
I’ll do free-form writing.
Good luck!


Her eyes are large, open with wonder.
Eyelids flutter, enjoying the feel of her eyelashes.
Pupils dart to and fro, soaking in every movement, every colour.
Her eyes widen, drinking every image into their watery depths.
Mama. Dada. Her eyes stamp names to faces.

Her eyes aren’t so large. They open in wonder at the images that flutter on TV. They absorb the shapes and forms presented.
Tom and Jerry. Dora.
Stamping names to faces.

Her eyes open in amazement at words; letters. They take in every curve, every slant. They transfer the message to the brain, begging it to teach her hands what they’ve seen.

Her eyes flicker with worry. Numbers.
They try to make sense of them.
Sums. Subtraction.
They dim with irritation and tear up in frustration.

Her eyes see more. Do more. Soon her eyes become adorned with kohl. Dark lines accentuating lovely honey-brown pupils.
Her eyes suddenly begin to notice the opposite sex with interest.
Lashes flutter with flirtation. They water with unrequited love. They glaze with intense pleasure.
They’re beautiful and they attract men to her.

Her eyes see too much. They cry too much. They harden. Glaring in suspicion, leering in cynicism. They see shadows in light. They see devils in angels.
Beautiful brown eyes have become hard as flint; emotionless. That which attracted people to her now drives them away.

Her eyes are lined with age. They grow weaker. They squint to see. Colours blur. They become smaller, rheumy. They hide under layers of sagging skin.

Her eyes take in her lonely home. Suddenly, they remember what it felt like to be huge and new. They cry because they remember what is felt like to widen in wonder, to see the beauty in all things.

Her eyes go dimmer.

One day, her eyes closes.
They would open no more.


Well that came out somewhat…ok right?
Have a lovely weekend! Happy Sabbath!
I’ll see you tomorrow.

Day 6

Well today’s post is courtesy of an idea by @nosmaass_EFX.
Jaded mood so pardon me if I stop making sense. I’ll be writing on Music.

Those who know me know my favourite music genre is the almighty Rock and Roll. I love Rock.
Before, the opinion about Rock was all ‘OMG Demonic music’ Yada yada. I am not writing to disabuse you of that notion. Believe whatever the fuck you want.
I love  Rock mostly for one this: Guitar solos.
A rock song is like a sacrifice. The worship builds up until the bridge where the guitar solo comes in. That is the highpoint for me; the point where the virgin’s head is cut off for sacrifice. The Crux!
Life fades way for me at that moment. My whole being is concentrated on extracting the nectar from what I am listening to.

Take a song like Sweet Child O’ Mine by Gunz’n’Roses. If you haven’t listened to this song, do. Old skool beauty. When Slash takes up the solo, I am lost.
I feel this crazy euphoria inside me. My heart pounds. My hands shake. My eyes become blurry with tears. My body unites and merges. In my head, I am the guitar and Slash is using his fingers on me. I rock to and fro, I hug myself. I try to dance but my legs feel too heavy. The rhythm weighs me down. I lay down and cover myself, praying for it to go on forever. This madness stops when Slash’s solo is over. Moments like these are the reasons I’ll forever adore Rock and Roll.
Another song Hysteria by Muse. The chorus gets me. Then the Solo. Lord Jesus, the solo! I have tears in my eyes EVERY TIME IT STARTS. I’ll probably go to a Muse concert with a box of tissues. I’ll bawl my eyes out. Lol. Listen to this song. Even if you don’t like Rock. Listen. You won’t regret.
Third song I’ll recommend for good guitar solo, Far From Home by Five Finger Death Punch.
Solos touch something dormant in me. There is a garden of Eden inside us and beautiful music taps into that core. I feel like a baby after a particularly good song; incapable of hate. Of course it fades (because reality is shit) and I have to tap into  it again and again.

Note, these songs are not Metal. I know Metal isn’t everyone’s cuppa so won’t go into it.

That is the beauty of Rock. There is something for everyone.  The genre is so diverse, some sub-genres would soon become genres.

As much as I love Rock, I love other genres as well; Jazz, Old Funky tunes, Old Skool Head bobbing hip hop.

The thing with music is that I am attracted by instrumentals. Heavily.
I am not a lyrics person. Couldn’t care (most times) what is being said. I just want to immerse myself in the melody; the harmony. The discordant arrangements of music that somehow manages to blend in the ears.
It’s all about the background music to me. In fact, I do think the singers are the background noise; they’re the accompaniment. They can shut up and the song would still be as beautiful.

My music list is a weird mix: Death Metal bands like Kalmah, vying for space with James Brown, Elvis Presley and Tom Jones.

I was going to talk about how Music acts as a spiritual gateway for summoning celestial beings but I doubt you wanna know about that…or If I wanna write about it just yet.

That’s it really. Hope I feel better.
Have a good day.


Day 5

I was going to write something interesting today. I just have this irritating ringing in my ears that is making it hard to concentrate. Decided to post another ‘game’ I of course did three years ago on Facebook. I’d delete my answers and put in new ones.
Here we go!


1. Last beverage→ Is Water a beverage? If no, the the tea I had on Sunday.
2. Last phone call→ Vanteya! ^.^
3. Last text message→ College friend
4. Last song you listened to→ Hades by Kalmah
5. Last time you cried→ Ummm…sometime like that. 😡
6. Dated someone twice? Yes.
7. Been cheated on?→ Probably. Did I care? No.
8. Kissed someone?→ *Shows Pro-Kisser badge*
9. Lost someone special? Yea.
10. Been depressed?→ A lot.
11. Been drunk and threw up? → Nope. I can’t waste my money to buy alcohol then throw it up. Am I mad? When my name is not Dangote.

12. Black
13. Lapis Lazuli
14. Black (and yellow Black and Yellow :|)
15. Ummm…Black?

16. Made new friends → Yes!  ^>^
17. Fallen out of love → I’m too fat to fall. I rolled out.
18. Laughed until you cried→ YES!
19. Met someone who changed you→ Yes 🙂
20. Found out who your true friends were → Yea…i think.
21. Found out someone was talking about you → Yea! Good things sha. 😀
22. Kissed anyone on your friend’s list → Hehehehehe. Mhmm. 😡
23. How many people on your friends list do you know in real life → Not much asides old school mates and the few I’ve met up.
25. Do you have any pets → No
26. Do you want to change your name→ If it were necessary. Siobhan or Hades.
27. What did you do for your last birthday → Was a Saturday. Church praising God.
28. What time did you wake up today → Lol. 9am to turn off alarm. 9.30am to turn off alarm. 10am to switch off phone.
29. What were you doing at midnight last night → Proofreading something.
30. Name something you cannot wait for → Just one? Naruto to end. It haff do.
31. Last time you saw your father → Don’t ask.
32. What is one thing you wish you could change about your life → My ummm…temperament maybe?
33. What are you listening to right now → tapping of keyboards from the laptop
34. Have you ever talked to a person named Tom → Tom Marvolo Riddle? Yes. In my dreams.  (Harry Potter fans would get)
35. What’s getting on your nerves right now? → Hmmm… I won’t complain.
36. Most visited webpage → Spankwire. -_-.
37. What’s your name → Chi
38. Nicknames→ Chichi, Weirdo, Chimchim. Chubby Chubs
39. Relationship Status → Nna mehn, I just dey look.
40. Zodiac sign→ Picses
41. Male or female or transgendered→ Trangendered. I was Chinonso before. -_-
42. Primary→ Pampers Private School
43. High School → Rainbow College Senior High
44. College → Tower Hamlets College
45. Hair colour → Black 1B
46. Long/medium/short → Going medium.
47. Height → 5ft 5 inches and some jara
48. Do you have a crush on someone? I want to crush someone. Same thing?
49: What do you like about yourself? → I am nerdy
50. Home Town → Umuonyeagwu/Okija (Fear me beeshes!)
51. Tattoos → No thank you.
52. Righty or lefty → Righty

53. First surgery → None
54. First relationship → Ah. I been start early. E don tey.
55. First best friends → Chiemelie from Primary 4 Red and Onyinye from Church
56. First sport you joined → Athletics
57. First pet → None.
58. First vacation→ My village o.
59. First concert → iGospel Concert
60. First crush → Michael Jackson (First and everlasting)

61. Eating → Nothing.
62. Drinking → Nothing
63. Already missing → Someone
64. I’m about to → Go to sleep hopefully.
65. Listening to → Tap. Tap. Tap. Laptop keys
66. Thinking about → When this questioning will be done
67. Waiting for? Christmas break

68. Want kids? → Dunno.
69. Want to get married? → Nope. But I can’t stay celibate forever so Yea.
70. Careers in mind → Plenty plenty.

71. Lips or eyes → Will eyes kiss me? Mschew. LIPS
72. Hugs or kisses → BOTH
73. Shorter or taller → Shorter than me? Is he a 4 year old? Hia!
74. Older or Younger → Hehehehe. No preference.
75. Romantic or spontaneous → Umm. No idea. Both?
76. Nice stomach or nice arms → I like my men with slightly pouchy stomachs. ^>^
77. Sensitive or loud → Middle ground
78. Hook-up or relationship → I don’t set P. Rela-tion-ship.
79. Trouble maker or hesitant→ Trouble maker!!! But with sense o biko.

81. Drank hard liquor → Yes.
82. Lost glasses/contacts → Nope.
83. Had sex on 1st date – Nope.
84. Broken someone’s heart → Hobby.
85. Had your own heart broken → Nope.
86. Been arrested → Not yet.
87. Turned someone down → Yes. “I don’t like you like THAT sorry -_-”
88. Cried when someone died → Yes.
89. Liked a friend that of the same sex? → Yea. that is why it’s called a friendship. You like them. -_-

90. Yourself → Sometimes
91. Miracles → In hardwork and Prayers
92. Love at first sight → No.
93. Heaven → Yes. *builds ladder to heaven*
94. Santa Claus → LOL On top wetin?
95. Kiss on the first date? → Well it depends…
96. Angels → Yes

97. Is there one person you want to be with right now? Yes.
98. Had more than one boyfriend/GIRLFREIND? LOL. Back in the day mehn…
99. Wish you could change things in your past? Yea. Getting a D in an essay -_-
100. Are you posting this as 100 Truths? → NOOOOOOO. -_-


And I am done!
Have a lovely day! See you tomorrow!

Day 4

Day 4 today.
Had a test yesterday that went pretty ok so, very chuffed. Occurred me to me to write about something important.
Why do I write?

I write because I can’t NOT write
It’s not about just putting thoughts to paper for me. It’s not only about its therapeutic effects. I live through my stories. Everything I write has happened in my head. I am somewhere in a particular scene. It is the only way I see things vividly.
I know what it feels like to give birth to a child; to kill, destroy, be a succubus, be a monster, be an idiot. That is because I have lived them. There are worlds inside my head. Worlds that do not need to obey the laws of whatever binds this present world together. In those worlds, I can be anything and get away with it. I am the Law.
This might sound a bit kooky…actually it is kooky but i’ll carry on.
My mind isn’t a dark place; it is just a place where dark things happen.
Madness holds a terribly allure for me. It enchants me. I wish to sit a clinically insane man down and write down everything he says. Sometimes, I pattern my writing to this madness, to channel, feel. Let’s all be mad together. For a few words or  thousand.
Let’s step into that world.

I write for an audience. I write for genuine bibliophiles. I write for those who know bullshit plots from real stories and not just the washers. I write for the writers who live inside their heads too. I write for them because it is a communion; a conjugation maybe of minds. I want to show you what’s going on in me, show me yours?

I write to make me laugh. If my rants do not raise a chuckle from me, I do not post them. That is the only reason they are really funny, because it is really difficult to make me laugh with written words. I write rants in a bad mood to lighten me up; to remind myself I am just another stinking human on the planet.
I write to make me cry. I want to cry because I want to feel pain. I want to feel pain because Pain is what makes me human. I want to cry as I write and laugh at myself as I cry while I write. I know, I am a mess.

I rarely write to pass on a message. Truth is, I have no message. This is why I really love horror stories. Where is the message in one dying? Lol. Whatever message comes out of my write ups should be attributed to my subconscious.

I write because I love to read. I want to write what I’d love to read. I want to pen a book as crazy as a ‘King’. I write because that is my goal. Do I want to get published? I don’t know. I just want to write something, read it and pat myself on the back. Reading has always influenced my thought process. My thought process influences events in the worlds in my head. When that world spills out, we have a tale. You get what I am trying to say. I hope.

I write to be remembered. Not like a huge monument to my name or works; No. I want to stay on your mind. Even if it’s a little corner. I write because I want you one day to read a book and think “Oh I remember someone who had a similar story”. I write because I don’t want you to forget me. Don’t. I’ll make you laugh. I’ll try scare you. Two hardest things to do as a writer. Just. Don’t. Forget. Me.

A piece of me is in every story I’ve ever written. I fear one day, I’ll have nothing left to share. What next then? I’ll have to start writing to collect my soul back. The insane part of me believes my life force is in my stories. The more I write, the shorter my lifespan- as a writer? as a person?

What am I trying to say?
I write just because.
That is it.
Just because I can. I don’t have to explain myself to anyone. It’s my imagination not yours.
Expression, like fine arts, only with words.

I am done.
I should sleep. It’s past 4am! x_x

See you tomorrow yes? no?

Day 2- God’s Unwanted

Today, I’ve got a new guest writer in the coven! Give a warm and hearty welcome to @tarhyel!!
His two-part poetry today would be our meal today. Do enjoy!

God’s Unwanted

Why do you continue to ripple the waters of my inner peace?

For what reason do I deserve such torment?

Let me be, let me listen to that sweet sound of silence,

To take refuge in that vast void in which I reside.

Away from the chaos of your world;

From your so called pleasures which are but illusions of ephemeral value.

You persecute me because I take no part in your Ignorance?

No more, for I have persevered long enough.

I accepted you with a heart cheering and bright as the stars

But know this, from the brightest star comes the blackest of holes

I shall render your lands desolate.

All existence affiliated to you shall be no more.

What is it you value most in this world?

I shall take pleasure in ripping it apart,

As I watch your heart disintegrate along with it.

Expose you to agony even the devil could not comprehend;

Roister not over your demise, for death is only the beginning.

I shall take you portals far beyond the knowledge of Hades.

As for your unborn seeds, it is their Fate to suffer the sins of the father.

For they will be delivered in the After-Life

For all eternity you shall remain in the spiral of Pandemonium.

From this moment forth you remain cursed.

God hears you not, for He sees justice in my actions.

You have been labelled The Unwanted Children of God.

The Light of Dark (God’s Unwanted II)

Trapped, Confined in a place where time is an illusion.

Warmth, peace and love can only be imaginary.

For all we know these feelings have somehow become lost in time.

A dimension where the only horizon is darkness swallowing darkness,

Where the cause of every action is evil,

And the effect even more evil.

It wasn’t always like this.

A price we pay for embracing the euphoric gift of free will.

Judgement, placed upon us by a certain being; the righteous one.

He possessed powers far beyond the fathom of any mortal,

Proof that he is aided by a divine presence.

And so he labelled us GOD’S UNWANTED, children of the dark…

So be it then, for within the spreading darkness, we have found a new light;

A light with a dark aura,

An army of banished souls,

Uncouth beings, all with a common resolve,

To bring death to the righteous.

A legion for we are many.

Like the beasts we are, we shall claw our way up to the heavens,

And burn it all to dust.

Hear my words for on this day; there shall be a cry louder than anyone all that is has ever heard before,

And upon victory spread our rule across the entire universe.

For those who oppose our will, come; we will be waiting,

To welcome you with open claws.

Reading this the first time gave me delicious chills.
Tarhyel would love feedbacks so people, tell him what you think!
Again, if you think you have a random topic for me to yarn dust about, comment and let me know! 😀

Memoirs of a Cobra

Hey people!
Been a bit quiet here hasn’t it? First post of November yea?
Decided to take a little break from writing anything serious, sorry. Taking my time to do more reading. Maybe I’ll recommend some books on here soon!
The good news is that I’d be putting up some of my old stories and some other random posts all lifted off my Facebook notes. Lol.

Anyway, today I have a new writer here, trying out his hands at the whole blogging thing! His handle, @volturi_lord and his blog would be kicking off at
For today, we have a poem (or spoken word type of thing).

Memoirs of a Cobra.

I slither through the opening into the sandy place.

Down in the corner, there’s a place of shade

Where I can rest from the sun’s scorching heat.

There’s a clang which startles me.

The wall under which I passed has opened

And towards me walks two high animals.

The ones that have plagued me right from birth,

Pursuing me with sticks and stones, trying to kill me.

I raise my head and look towards them.

They stop in their tracks, spotting me at the same instant.

They make sounds and move about frantically.

Out of the tall stone another one comes, something long protruding from his hands.

Stones land around me and I move to avoid them.

I spit out of fear and anger;

Fear for my life and anger at their hostility.

I make it to the wall which opens and I slither underneath,

Into that long ground of stone

Which goes on and on and on.

Something heavy hits my body and I can no longer move.

They make more sounds and increase in numbers.

These high animals that have broken me.

My head in raised in agitation and in pain, I spit.

Also,  in desperation too as I need to get away.

I try but I can’t move.

It’s surprising.

Its like they have divided me in two,

And I’m joined together by piece of hide and flesh.

There is a whirling sound and an iron animal comes.

It stops and from it two of the higher animals alight.

They stand with the others, multiplying themselves every second

A little distance away; my spit can’t reach them,

Why are they so hostile?

Why do they hate me so?

All I want is a cool place to rest and now I am bruised.

He comes towards me, walking on two sticks

Another is protruding from him: it is flat with a sharp looking edge

I  spit at him and he does the same.

This disconcerts me and I turn away.

Then he brings the sharp edge against my neck …

                                                                                                                                                              – Dankaro


That is it!
What do you think? Anyone had snake experiences before? Share!
A thank you to @volturi_Lord for the contribution!
If anyone considers themselves to be good at writing and has something I can use here, do get at me via Twitter, @weird_oo and we’d take it from there. 😀

I’ll see you soon!
Tee Hee!

How To Be A Vampire

Today’s post is brought to you by Dionysus. He has a lesson to teach.


Ladies and Gentlemen, this isn’t some crap where I tell you to let a vampire bat bite your neck and then you slash your wrist to turn into a vampire..
This is the Real Shit!
By following these simple rules, you would become a vampire. Vampires are more powerful than the jocks and the cheerleaders in terms of attraction to the opposite sex. They hardly do anything; they don’t play sports nor do they socialise with everyone in school but they are usually the most attractive to the opposite sex… These simple steps would set you on the path of becoming a formidable and irresistibly alluring vampire…


This is your place of solitude, your place where you escape from the world. It may be your room or perhaps a private area somewhere. The key thing about this coffin is that there is nothing stimulating your mind that is outside your control. This means if you’re listening to music, you’re listening to the music you want to listen to. If you’re watching a movie, you’re watching the movie you want to watch. If you’re reading a book, you’re reading the book you want to read. You are consciously feeding your mind with the kind of information you want it to have. All that matters is that you’re in a receptive state. Your room is your coffin. Make sure the curtains are always drawn to avoid sunlight from entering the room. It also helps to turn the lights off so your room reminds you of night. Don’t leave your room unless you really have to and if you do, come back as quickly as possible. Your room is your coffin, your place of rest, your spring from which your draw forth energy and revitalise your immortal body.


Forget all these stupid commercials about creams and soaps that will make you fresh. The key to becoming fresh is avoiding the sun. Don’t stay under the sun and avoid it as much as possible. Soon, your skin would start getting paler, whiter, fresher. The more you stay in your coffin, the more your skin becomes vampirish. Also to have the full effect, it helps to smoke pot. This gives you that vampirish red eye look contrasted with your pale white skin.


Vampires hate the sun. Apart from the fact that it scorches their skins and turns them to ash, nothing ‘va va voom’ ever happens underneath the sun. Everything during the daytime is always so PG13 like life suddenly became Disney Channel. At night though, weird things happens, uncensored things, Carnal things. Vampires are known for their love of blood, flesh and sex. The night is usually the period most people let loose, Release the Beast, Unleash the Dragon but during the daytime, they are on a leash…
So, go out at night. If you have to go out during the day, wear a ring on your finger. This is the ring that protects you from the sun burning you to ashes. It also represents something else in reality.
This is called ‘Peacocking’. By wearing a mystical looking ring on your finger, you look mysterious and people are attracted to mystery. Accessorise mostly with black items, black chains, rings, bracelets etc. Also, its cool to dress in mostly black attire.


This is what vampires use to capture and influence the souls of other human beings. They do this with their gaze. To do the glamour move, look people directly in the eye when you speak and don’t blink often. This makes them very attracted cause they love the attention and yet are frightened by it. It gets their juices flowing. Believe it or not, it is easier to maintain your gaze with someone than to let your eyes keep darting around all over the place when speaking to them.


The strongest Vampires are usually the oldest. This means they have more knowledge and power than the ones that came after them. A Vampire must have seen the grim as well as the good in his/her long time alive. You should have knowledge of things, mostly controversial things that are mysterious but really happened in reality. You should do away with the nerdy techy way of speaking adopted by the youths of this generation; tweetering language, facebook language etc and sound like someone in the 1920s. I’m not saying you should go all shakespeare and talk in the manner in which they spoke, all I’m saying is if you have 10 words to say, make sure you take your time and say them as cleanly and as clearly as possible. Its better to say 10 words well pronounced than a thousand words in haste which usually signifies nervousness.


Believe it or not, items have tremendous power imbued upon them. They capture the subconscious parts of our minds and override the conscious. If for instance someone puts a statue of Jesus in his room or a large crucifix, He/she would start having thoughts of Christ and this in turn influences his/her behaviour. If on the other hand someone puts a picture of baphomet in his room, a pentagram, a black sabbath poster and a skull in his/her room, He/she would start having evil thoughts and this in turn would influence his/her actions. I’m not here to preach to you about morality. We choose to be heroes or villains; one cannot exist without the other. Collect items that are dear to you and place them in your coffin or your room. When your mind keeps seeings these objects or items that you like on a daily basis, it influences your mind subconsciously and brings you closer to how you need to be; A Bloodthirsty Vampire.
Symbols are extremely powerful… For the blood effect, you could drink red wine and let it slither off the side of your lips so you’d look like you just drank someone’s blood. Also, blackcurrant and zobo would do the trick for the vamp effect.


Plain black shirts and white shirts, short sleeve, long sleeve, Tshirts etc are the way to go if you want to become a vampire. Drop the fancy colored shoes and the tight jeans and the bright colored pink or yellow Tshirts.. I don’t know why this generation embraces that crappy look but that look just says ‘look at me everyone, I’m a fucking nerd trying to be cool’.
Instead of buying blue, green, red, yellow footwear, save up your money and just buy one black ankle boots. It goes with everything. If you’re wearing jeans, wear something that gives your balls space to breathe and not some tight crap. Black pants are awesome for the vamp look. Black pants + white shirt = ultimate vampire look. If you are wearing jewellery or accessories, black jewellery is the way to go. Its very cool to look at someone’s neck and you see a black rope hanging on it. It says I’m rich but I don’t like to show off by wearing a big gold chain or a fancy shiny silver chain. Also, silver items are known to burn vampires skins. Black accessories also make you look mysterious. Its always good to have a bland flat look.. Not too colorful and not too dull.. Also, the more gloomier colored clothes suit the soon to be vampire. Red, Purple, Dark blue, Dark Green, Black, Dark Grey etc.. White is the only bright color that suits a vampire. The idea is that when people look at you, you should remind them of the night, taboo, darkness and unrestrained passion.


In this generation were everyone thinks they know it all and talking too much is the way to attract the opposite sex, it pays to talk less. If someone says something to you and you tried so hard in those seconds after they said it to come up with something reasonable to say but you couldn’t come up with anything reasonable to say to reply them, just look them in the eye and let a small smile come out from the side of your lips.
Don’t try to be funny.
Everybody is such a fucking comedian in this generation. Stop trying to be funny, Its the cheapest and most insignificant way to get attention. Its much better to speak philosophically than to speak about facts, the News and what is happening currently in the world. The idea is this; the less you know, the more fodder for conversation. Even though you did know something, pretend like you don’t and let them talk about it to you. You can then apply step 4; The Glamour Move. Just keep looking them in the eye as they speak and try your best not to blink too much. Let the tear fill your eye and let it shine with a nice gleam to hypnotize them but don’t let the tear roll down your cheeks as this would quell the spell.

This is all I could think of for now, maybe there are more, maybe not but practice these steps and watch yourself slowly but surely transform to a real life vampire.. Don’t doubt it, Try it.
This is legit shit!

You’ve heard him!!!
P.s: Best Vampire, Lestat de Lioncourt. (Stuart Townsend), created by Anne Rice. Oh Yummy!!!! ^.^

Once Upon a Time – A Play

C’est moi, Madmoiselle Phantom Pages and today, I have something different for you today!
As you’ve probably realised, I try out diffrent writing styles and genres and today, decided to try for a play!
If you see this play as crazy, then you’re most likely normal because it is crazy but hey, Ideas are ideas!
Hope you enjoy my own story about two Nigerian couples in Jerusalem!




The Ogbonnas:, Papa Nonso, Mama Nonso, Nonso
The Ajalas: Iya Moji, Papa Moji
Mary of Magdalene




                                                    SCENE 1

                               (In a busy evening market place in Jerusalem, Mama Nonso is seated inside her stall, fanning herself. She occasionally calls to the crowd to purchase her goods. Iya Moji passes by)



Iya Moji! well done o! I am greeting!



(IYA MOJI turns at the greeting. Seeing MAMA NONSO, she walks into her stall and sits down on a stool)


(She sighs heavily)

Mummy Nonso bawo…



 I am fine o! You’re frowning today. What is the matter?


 (Shaking her head sadly)

My dear things have just been poor o. The kind of taxes I have been paying wo! Caesar wan kill person for this place o.


(Tuts in commiseration)

Eyaa…Nne it’s not only you. I haven’t been able to sell anything all day!


(Fold her hands under her chin, jerking her knee)

 My dear what can we do? I can’t even get enough fish to sell…


Ah! Why now? What happened to Simon your fisherman?



That one!

(Claps hand and hisses again)


 (Looking confused)

O gini kwa? Did you two have a disagreement?


No o! Disagreement e no dey this one o! The nonsense man decided all of a sudden to stop fishing! All of a sudden! Ah!



Biko Iya m. Stop making me laugh. Which one is stop fishing? Simon? That one that had been fishing kemgbe! How now?


(Shows MAMA NONSO her hands and places them back under her chin)

It is just like magic o. I heard he now follows that Jesus boy around.


(Looking confused)

Jesus? Which Jesus?


Ah Jesus na! Aunty Mary pikin!


Oh that one! Eh… Why is he following him?


Ah so you haven’t heard?

(Claps and sighs)


(Holds IYA MOJI’s knee)

Heard what Iya m? Talk na!


Mummy Nonso things are happuni o. Jesus say he is the son of God o.


 (Bursts into fits of laughter)

Biko nwa nne m. Repeat yourself. Jesus said what?


(Chuckles a little)

Is not a laughing matter ah! Jesus eh. Aunty Mary and Uncle Joseph pikin talk say him be God son o! Mummy Nonso e tire me!


 (MAMA NONSO Laughs harder. She sighs and cleans her tears of mirth)

When this madness start nne? Ha ga kpokwa nke a gini?


(IYA MOJI sighs and gets up)

Wo! Me, I am tire! Mummy Nonso make I go house. Papa Moji would come back and be hungry. You know men. They don’t play with food!


(Gets up as well)

Nne I know. Let me leave you nwanyi oma. Sorry I didn’t offer you anything! Greet Baba Moji for me I nu?


(Smiles and waves)

 I will. Oya odaabo o. Greet Daddy Nonso and Nonso

(IYA MOJI exits)




 (Sits back own and fold her arms under her armpit)

Jesus? Son of God kwa? Let Amadioha not strike him dead o! Hia!



(At Aunty Mary’s salon.

Female apprentices are busy washing women’s hair. Mary is walking about, supervising them.)

(Enter IYA MOJI into the salon)


 Ah! Aunty Mary. You’re in today. Afternoon ni o!


(Sees IYA MOJI and smiles)

 Iya Moji. Customer. You’re welcome. Please sit down.

(Makes a chair available for IYA MOJI)


(IYA MOJI sits and removes her scarf)

 Ah thank you my dear.


 (MARY moves behind IYA MOJI and runs her fingers through her hair)

Your usual wash right?


 Yes o jare. The hair is itch me bad bad.


(MARY combs and begins to wash IYA MOJI’s hair)

So Iya Moji how is Daddy and Moji?


 They’re fine o. How is Joseph and your children?


 (Pours water on hair and continues washing)

They’re great. Joseph wants to retire from his carpentry business and hand over to James.


Ehen? But is not righti o!


 (Pauses for a second and continues)

It’s not right?


 (Clicks tongue)



 (Rinsing and patting hair dry)

How is it not right?



Eh na! The business is supposed to pass on to the first son. The business is supposed to be for Jesus, beeni!



Well…my son Jesus has his ministry. He cannot take on the business. It has to be James.


 (Turns to face MARY)

Ah Aunty Mary! So the rumors are true! You and Joseph are letting Jesus go mad up and down? Ah! Aunty Mary! He’s your first son o! You’re supposed to sit him down as his mother beeni! Sit him down and tell him to stop his madness before they arrest him o!



Iya Moji it’s not like that. Jesus was called into this ministry. You see I conceived him before I knew Joseph. An angel, Gabriel appeared to me and told me I would bear a son who would be the Saviour of the world. Jesus is the son of God.


 (Stands up slowly, a look of disbelief on her face)

I can see where your son got his madness from. Ori e o pe! Instead of you to take my advice and be a good mother you’re here telling me stories. Angel Gabriel appeared to you?

(Claps hands and laughs in derision)

Angeli Gabriel ko. Angeli Malaika ni!



I am telling the truth! I was conceived of the Holy-



Make i hear word abegi! Take your money!

(IYA MOJI drops coins into MARY’s laps and walks away, mumbling about stupid women and angels. MARY stares after her, confused, mouth open)



(At the house of the Ogbonnas. In the morning, Mama Nonso, runs out of her house crying and screaming)



(A young man, NONSO, carrying a bag over his shoulder tries to come out of the house but MAMA NONSO runs back and blocks him. She holds his shirt.)


(Trying to remove his mother’s grip on his shirt)

Mama leave me alone! Leave me alone let me go!


(Still crying)

I’m not leaving you alone ooooo! Nonso i choro igbu m! You want to kill me! PAPA NONSO!

(NONSO struggles to move past to no avail. PAPA NONSO rushes to the scene and holds his crying wife.)



Nwanyi O gini! O gini n’isi ututu a! This early morning! What is it? What is happening here! Mgbo Nonso! What is happening!


(Pointing at his mother)

Papa! It’s mama! She won’t let me go and join Jesus and be a disciple!


(MAMA NONSO begins screaming again, throwing herself on the ground)

Ewoooooooooo! Anwula m ooooo! Jesus anapuna m otu nwa m nwere! Jesus has stolen my only son! Anadioha biakwa eeeee!


(Shouts angrily at his wife)

Nwanyi mechie onu! Shut up let me listen to the boy!

(MAMA NONSO stops screaming, biting her fingers, crying silently)



(Turns to face his son)

Nonso. Where are you going to?



Papa…I said I am going to join Jesus. Papa he works wonders! He made the mad man down the street well papa! He heals people! I saw it with my own eyes! I believe he’s the son of God and I want to obey his Father in heaven.


(Shaking his head, looking dismayed)

But Nonso you cannot just leave us. You’re our only son. You need to settle down, marry and give us grandchildren eh Nonso nwa m…


(Slowly slinks away from the door)

Mba papa! No! Jesus said we should seek the kingdom of God first and his righteousness. I am going. Papa. Mama. God bless you.

(NONSO runs away. PAPA NONSO tries to chase him, screaming for NONSO to come back. MAMA NONSO begins screaming and crying, rolling herself on the ground)



(The same day, in the afternoon.
At Joseph’s carpentry workshop.
JOSEPH and one of his sons are busy working on a table.
PAPA NONSO walks in with MAMA NONSO.
JOSEPH notices them and stops what he is doing.
He looks confused at their sombre faces)


(Motions them to a long bench)

 Mr. and Mrs. Ogbonna. Is there a problem? Please seat down.


(Shakes his head)

This is not a sitting matter Mr. Joseph. If we wanted to sit down we’d have stayed at home.


(Looking confused)

 Ok. I am sorry. Please what is the matter?


(Clears throat before speaking)

The problem is your son Jesus. He has stolen our son Nonso away with his…his cult.



(Sighs and sits down)

Jesus again. If I had a denarii every time someone came here to report about Jesus, I will be a rich man. Today, it’s the Pharisees coming to complain. Tomorrow the Sadducees would come from another corner. Now you people. What am I to do?


(Kneels down, pleading)

Papa Jesus bikozie nu. Just speak to your son. Tell him to bring Nonso back biko. He’s our only son. Otu nwa a m muru…

(MAMA NONSO stays crying again. PAPA NONSO consoles his wife)


(To his wife)

Ebezina nwanyi oma m. Biko o?


(Sighs and wipes his forehead)

Mr. Ogbonna I’m sorry but I cannot help. Jesus is not my son. I am just a poor substitute for an earthly father. I cannot persuade him to do anything against ‘The will of his Father’. I am sorry.

(JOSEPH goes back to his work. PAPA NONSO consoles MAMA NONSO and they walk away)




(At the Ajala residence)

(IYA MOJI is screaming at her husband who has just been caught sleeping with another woman, Mary of Magdalene. He is wearing only a wrapper. Mary is beside him cowering, trying to cover her nakedness with a cloth hastily tied to her chest)


(Screaming at the top of her voice)


(IYA MOJI holds his wrapper and pulling it. BABA MOJI is trying to prise her hands from it)


(Trying to hush his wife in a low tone)

 Bukola o da be o! O ti to-


(Ignores his pleas and continues screaming)


(IYA MOJI leaves him and drags MARY)



IWO! IWO! Mary Magdalene abi kini oruko e!

(MARY sobbing and covering her face so IYA MOJI‘s slaps land on get arms)


Omo oshi! Omo ale jati jati! Useless girl! That’s how you go about sleeping with peoples husbands! O ri e!


(IYA MOJI tries to year the wrapper covering MARY‘s nakedness but MARY holds on to it tight)



 I am sorry Ma… Please…


Shut up there! Oniranu! Abi you! Mary Mangelina abi Angelina! Angelica nko! Omo odo! They will stone you today!

(People begin to gather at the scene)


(IYA MOJI begins to yell at them)

Stone am o! Kill this stupid girl! Idiot! Stone this stupid man I call my husband too!


(Begging IYA MOJI)

AH! BUKOLA! STONE ME! Ah! What will Moji say! Bukky! Ma binu!


(Continues screaming, tying and untying her wrapper)

Why didn’t you think of Moji when you were between this Omo oshi’s legs! YOU ARE MAD! O RI O PE!

(She tries slapping him but he dodges. The crowd gets agitated and begin to pick up stones. MARY is crying to herself, trying to hide her face in shame. Suddenly the crowd goes quiet and parts. JESUS walks in to the scene)


(Turns to IYA MOJI)

Woman, what is happening here?


(Glares at him and hisses)

I see you don’t have respect again eh Jesus omo Mary! You’re calling me woman! Is that how to address your elders?

(JESUS ignores her and turns to an onlooker, asking the same question)


Mary was caught fornicating with Baba Moji so we’re going to stone her.


(Stares at them all and a hush falls)

Is that so? Ah nnkan be…


(He squats on the ground, doodling without lifting his head up)

He who is without sin should cast the first stone.

(With that, JESUS ignores them all, still doodling. The crowd drop their stones and slowly disperse. JESUS lifts up his head and it is just him, IYA MOJI, BABA MOJI and MARY there.



(Turns to MARY and BABA IBEJI)

Where are your accusers?

(MARY shrugs, still sobbing quietly. JESUS turns to IYA MOJI)



Forgive. As your Father in heaven forgives you your lies and gossip, forgive them. Sin is sin. Your lying is just as bad as their sin.

(Just as JESUS is speaking, PAPA NONSO rushes into the scene, carrying his wife, who looks dead. He comes to JESUS and falls at his feet, crying)


Jesus! Please! Nonso said you perform miracles. Biko! My wife! She just fell down and won’t talk. She’s shaking. Please. Help her!

(IYA MOJI rushes to MAMA NONSO‘s side)



(Places hands on head and starts wailing)

Ah! Mogbe! Mummy Nonso! Ah! Daddy Nonso o! Ah!


(JESUS touches MAMA NONSO‘s forehead)

Rise up and walk

(MAMA NONSO‘s eyes flicker and open. She stands up, looking dazed. They’re all in shock.

PAPA NONSO kneels at JESUS’ feet. BABA MOJI and IYA MOJI follow suit. MARY joins them)



Ah e jo! Your mother was righti o! You’re the son of God true true! A miracle worker noni!


Please! Omo mi! Have mercy on me!


Yes Sir! Mercy.



Go and sin no more.

(JESUS leaves them kneeling and bewildered and walks away. They all stand up.)



(Turns to his wife)

Iyawo mi. Forgive me. I will never do this again. I will never cheat on you. E jo. Bukky… Omo toh shan.. Ife mi…


(Mellows and sighs)

You will not kill me o Baba Moji. Eh…Ok o…


(Comes forward and kneels at her feet)

I am sorry ma. I will never do this again. This is all I do to feed. I have no other job…


(Helps MARY her up)

I have heard you. As a young girl, don’t go and sell your body for money. It is not goodi o! To be breaking marriages ah! Is a evil something beeni! I forgive you. I can employ you in my fish business. I need an assistant. Oya go and dress up first.


(Gets up)

Ah! Thank you Ma! Thank you!

(She runs inside the house. PAPA NONSO hugs MAMA NONSO)





(Still dazed)

He healed me…







Nonso is fine with him. Jesus is…He is a God man. Nonso is fine.

(MAMA NONSO sobs softly and scene fades)





On Fathers

For Paternak

A father’s day post is sort of impromptu but the muse moves and I must obey. Its hard being a man, so many rules, so many constraints, so many expectations. The rules change right before your very eyes and your actions have such far reaching consequences it is almost paralyzing. Sometimes its easy to forget that men are human too, as flawed and weak as the women we love and care for, conceive and raise. Many are too weak to stay, some get swept away under the intensities of life. A father is charged with protecting his spawn, defending them and instilling values into them, being the voice of unwavering authority, the facilitator and fixer upper. In all this, the father is somehow expected to know that he should be gentle and kind, find a way to show unconditional love and instill so much trust in his child that nothing is too much to be shared. Some fathers are lucky enough to strike a natural balance but some fathers end up going to extremes. Having had quite a few intense friendships, I have seen first hand how hard it is to be there unconditionally without murking up your principles or becoming a yes man.

I grew up with two fathers, intriniscally the same but vastly different in their approach to life and love. And I have inherited traits from both, some which I fight and some which I emulate. But today’s post is not about me or my childhood but about the people I hold dear. There’s this girl I know, who has had to be her own father because the depression she struggles with every single day is too much for a single mother with three other children to bear. Somehow she still finds the strength to be there for others, share a smile and a word of advice for those who needs it. She has her down days when she privately retreats and fights the voices in her head, but she always come out stronger because she knows there are others who are weaker than she is, people she needs to be strong for. There’s this boy I know who has had to live through the deaths of the patriachs in his family and the void their absence created, yet somehow he still looks out for the best in others, even the self destructive ones. He gives all for his friends, never afraid to be the voice of dissent or the one who won’t toe the line everyone else is. People think of him as reclusive or elitist but he doesn’t let the chatter worry him, he is confident in who he is and isn’t afraid to live as his values dictate. I know this man who is ever cheerful and willing to make a new friend, willing to offer a word of advice from his vast experience and be a shoulder when it is needed. Sometimes his ‘cheerfulness’ irritates me and I withdraw but just knowing that he’ll listen is a comfort. There’s this friend of mine whose weaknesses remind me that people are flawed, he is so smart and insightful but has these moments of selfishness that make me realise how human we really are. How flawed men can be if we don’t check ourselves every single day we are awake. These are some of the people I consider my ‘fathers’.
I want children. I have always loved them from when I was three and forever trying to carry my much larger twin brother on my back because I was ‘older’ than him by ten minutes. I have had many opportunities to ‘parent’ a lot of my cousins and aunt’s children and I have come to appreciate the priviledge and responsibility it is to bring a child into the world. A baby is not something you can carry for a few hours and hand over when it begins to cry from a bout of colic. A child is not drycleaning that you can drop off and pick a few days later all rid of its acquired flaws. A teenager will always return home like a homing pigeon when he/she has stirred up trouble you had no hand in starting. Coupled with the horrific stories I see and hear, I am more and more humbled by what it takes to raise a child you can be proud of. I’ve seen first hand how teenagers can wake up one morning and rebel so completely they break your heart, how you can raise a child who turns out so socially inept you start to ask questions and prod them to do things you should be normally be preventing them from doing; how some children can live multiple lives and fool you so completely that when you eventually catch on, its too late to help. Being a parent is hard, but being a ‘great’ father is something few will achieve. So I salute the ones who try and I empathize with the ones who fall along the way, Fatherhood is a journey that starts every morning and is travelled every single day.

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