Gosh, now this minute,I'm intimidated by the letters on my keyboard, almost don't know what to write ( been out of practice) and I'm floundering; deleting, rewriting and brainstorming. I've come to a conclusion that I am a fake. Yea.how do I explain the loss of words and work as an excuse?
I write for a living and the hours are not pretty,I got sucked in the abyss of thinking I've tomorrow to write.I'm trying not to let my self conviction wane in the light of recent events, in the hopes that I'll have better news to share with everyone.
Next month is my birth month, and as I was marking my list of achievement, I came to the realization that I am getting old(er). That's the truth! and I've grown ( not in wisdom) but in knowledge ( isn't that about the same thing?), and the time to act is Now, not yesterday but this second. I've told myself this same thing and still I never act swiftly.
Hence, I waive all rights to tell you what this year should be about, what you should do with your life and yourself and entreat you to push me, call me out to do better with my blog and when I'm lazy to put anything. I want to my grand children to be proud of their mama which means, I want a legacy that dates back to the start of this blog and God forbid that some months go unwritten.
In my head, I feel this piece reads disjointed, that my thoughts are half-and-half. It's a challenge to do a comeback.Below is a short piece I wrote on the bombings of a town in Northern Nigeria. We haven't gotten over the kidnap of Chibok girls, now a town? God give rest to the souls of the departed and may justice prevail on their behalf.
Bag-a-body part
with no name tag
you see, we’ve run out of letters
now switching to numbers,
one arm, two legs, three heads,
killings becoming widespread
where do we go, to the towns we fled?
with no name tag
you see, we’ve run out of letters
now switching to numbers,
one arm, two legs, three heads,
killings becoming widespread
where do we go, to the towns we fled?
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