Hello. I’m Back?

I guess making a return to this page required that I did the following: remind myself, keep up and create the environment for doing so.

It’s been a lot to handle, and with new encounters I’ve had quite the moments in self-restrictions from taking up writing on this page for a long time now: family, relationships, and work[?]

So what do I do? Keep writing them poems and the handful of paragraphed stories as I did before. These one may have a whiff of what’s been experienced (as expected of me) while keeping it concise like the way I’ve been doing it from the beginning.

I can’t promise to stick to a schedule, but this time around I wish to use the opportunity of re-entering my account to journal these thoughts as long as I’m inspired, and further it into being a discipline (as it should).

Thanks to the brethren who shared with me their work, stories, pieces of their lives as I experienced them. I’m looking to seeing me churn out noteworthy material in the days ahead.

I’m back? Erm I don’t know o haha! But we’ll see. We will see. *smiles nervously and menacingly*

for him.

—nineyy,

23/04/2023.

Deeply Pressed

I see you. Smiling, while swallowing your tears, but the joy isn’t from you tasting the salt.

You tell yourself you’re okay and then sit some more hours to get your butt hurt some more after hours of you doing nothing, scrolling up and down your screen, looking for anything pleasurable to the eye – sneakers, screen shots from cartoons, movies (along with captions or subtitles connected to them), model photos (both men and women), liking and saving them to be used as wallpapers and also hoarded for gallery’s sake.

But you express dissatisfaction, through sighs let out, face palming during varying intervals within the day.

You want to go out but you ask why and then stay indoors.

You think you’re not doing well with living and even though you are seeing on timelines opportunities for work, the motivation to make a pick is absent so you envision a bit and then are let down.

Letting go you say, but here you are, seated and asking what you are worried about because there are unresolved matters you have with other parties.

And there’s nothing you see yourself doing about it.

It’s not pain and it is. It’s light yet heavy. It’s not gotten to you but you feel hit.

Fam! You. Are. Depressed.

And I’m deeply pressed that there’s little I can do, because I am too.

For us.

.nine,

06/05/2020.

Sorry for your W

There were times you would have wished you too would lose, so we gather round your balcony, prying into the living room and watch you sulk while you wiped your face with tissues and rubbed mucus on your pair of shorts – the emotional disgust!

“Take your time on your next try child!” and that came from Grandpa, the only one who believed you’ll make a comeback proper to wow everyone at home and get them believing in you.

So what did you do? Buy you some time off each day after classes to sit behind screens and memorize with your eyes moves – moves to get you in the next levels since you were good at the intermediary positions, and then grin after you’d successfully completed each step.

“Today we win!” And Grandpa was certain of this one, washing your hair and creaming it all by himself, polishing your shoes while you sat, quietly, catching glimpses of the gentle winds’ treatment to the streets, with wrappers of sweets and biscuits high flying and falling on dirty cars.

“And he is on his way to victory! With a left, and a right, and another right! Oh folks looks like this year’s going to have another man taking home this trophy!” Looking successful a finish and then…”FRRRRTTT!”

A stumble. And then there was you, tumbling down the ribbons and the next man trying to find his way to beat you, but the whistle had already been blown and the winner declared…

“Next time believe in this boy! Yes I’m talking to all of you in this house! Despite him falling and grazing his elbows on the ground he’s stood tall! Don’t worry Junior I’ll take care of these bruises okay? All you need to know is that you did awesome, and I’m proud of you!”

And there you have Junior, feeling sore after a crazy set of runs done today from today’s lime and spoon competition. Grinning nervously, but happy to be winning this one.

Proud of you brother man.

For him.

.nine,

04/04/2020.

forgotten.

spilling memories of us into jugs and watching them form bubbles when they reach the brim

to be kept under cool temperatures and taken out occasionally to be warmed by the winds

reaching out to hold handles and pouring tots onto concrete, and muttering prayers to Asaase Yaa to keep me still

for motions have been discovered, and their covering have taken on cobwebs, such that I won’t need to bother about what they were about and why they were made in the first place

letting my thoughts ascend into steam, causing disinterest in the self I presented to men; that which made me think doing for them will be of essence

but I teach myself once again to open up, through arts and sciences, in hopes of me being a self to appreciate dearly

so goodbye you, and whatever you made me do.

turned a new leaf this year, and it’s right I forget about you. totally.

For them.

.nine,

30/03/2020.

Enam.

Fish Bar was closed just in time for tonight’s special: “Dirty Little Lords’ Night to Remember” and I remember you whispering to me in my ear (probably the right one I guess) “You’ll love this one, I promise!”

And…

I did! From soul, to jazz, to alternative and a relaxing instrumental finish I doused my head in every moment, nearly forgetting why I was here: to spend my second night with you. And I can’t deny it was an amazing feat seeing you whine slowly, booty bouncing up and down and my eyes unconcerned about the movements but my focus on the unison with the persons present: again, your booty.

My I couldn’t take my eyes off you! Your graceful swaying and gentle strides on the dance floor had me tapping my feet good knowing well I suck at dancing hence sitting throughout, but you didn’t mind, and I was happy I didn’t get you feeling indifferent.

Out of the pub now and then the walk, through the alley you said you only use should you be walking in twos, and then a soft pat on my thigh. Your knees lowered but your skirt lifted high, and I thought this had to do with the water dripping from the stairs by the walls.

Silly me took three minutes to find out what you were asking for but before I could mouth an “Oh my!” you had your way, and there I stood, with my eyes both shut, and my brain jumpy for whatever reason I can’t explain to this day, but I guess it’s because our lips were having a conversation on their own, not willing to part ways till the breather came with a gasping “I love you” and then a continuing till satisfaction is reached.

“I love you“, and you were okay but quiet when I hit you with this speech, as you are now, because deep down you weren’t ready, but you also didn’t care.

Enam.

For her.

.nine,

29.01.2020.

we chop hot!

Today ein line long waa. enobi wona fault chale – then traffic dey roff!

We sanso keep for the house, small. Nana B say make we wedge am make he do wild plus some numbers – today eh the block i go hit? on God!!!!

Maadjoa too say make we chop small before we go lef – some mad jollof den onion sauce!

Wey Chaamaen Wan say lift steeze beh make we wait small sake of ein mechanic dey come plus ein ride from shop.

Koti dey street today. The barrier all make nyamaa.

Na you wey you get Benzo dierr your mind all go make basaa.

The cabbies dierr more naa dem drop passengers sharp, because if dem zoa dem plus dema overloading dierr you no pay koraa 1K – herh bad!

So ein this chale, and today your man kai we. He see say me den Terence dey the back after thirty minutes wey he call we come ein side for the front seats. Me den T work out our salivation plus the first set, wey some Barbies come link make we chat small – Ei you boys?! – Oh bizness steeze my g!

Enobi small HOT we chop today chale!

Mad meat! Wey Abokyi too go inside plus Kpoo K3K3 den red wine so the bag you dey see today eh?

Abooooowa!

(But the yawa be say Koo Gboomkyein no dey inside – Oh no yawa. Ein woman cook for am. – Oh fine fine.)

For us.

.nine,

22.12.19

frail.

I’d have loved to sing to you new songs as we’re graced to enter these new days for your emotion-doused ‘Yes!’ meant a lot to a simpleton like me.

Dusting off shoes for a few pesewas has been the life after getting kicked out of my mother’s house by her younger sisters, and my only sources of livelihood are my caged canary and box of tools which I use to play me some music when there’s no shoes by my side.

I intended adding a fireplace right beside the cottage after you’d murmured something about being ‘cold in the night-time’ and I knew you’d agree with me that I did.

Until a little money came out of the dusting…

You sought for silk clothes all-year long when we’d barely moved together to pay your parents’ visits with fruits. You do come back home very late, as you don’t care much about warming your own milk to eat with your bread nor warm your own vegetable soup.

I find myself covered in soot every weekend while cleaning the kitchen after I’m done cooking your favorite foods, which don’t have me included because ‘my visitors wouldn’t want to see me with you and feel awful for what you’ve had to go through’.

So let me lift you up in my arms – I may not make it to the level of the royal choir, but I do believe I can be the better man who would want to see his child safely delivered

Eyes into the windows of the midwife’s bedroom watching you squeal as you push

Mentioning the father’s name – not me – and I left, knowing it didn’t feel right but what’s there to lose?

Definitely not my heart nor head.

Still sane, playing in the rain and hearing whispers of her name…low enough and frail.

For her.

.nine,

10.02.19

dim lights and dungeons

Sunny day at the amusement park with her dog, strolling as she made glances at the renovated entrances to the roller-coaster

Maddy had been doing these visits for the past three years, and always made sure Quentin had his leash and mask on; a terrier found in a dying fire struggling to get out of the rubbish that covered its feet.

“To Frankenstein’s” the signpost read, and she wore quickly a smirk – one she’d been wearing ever since she’d begun this job.

Kids. Of different ages. Walking towards Frankenstein’s as they giggled nervously, and Maddy making sure they had their tickets on their wrists.

“Welcome to the Lab!”

And then no lights.

Unusual about today and Maddy was sure all the switches were turned on.

Then Quentin woofed twice. There was a squeal after that from some part of the dungeon, and with the kids yelling their heads off despite ‘Frankenstein’ bellowing everything being under control, they still had to be sent out.

Following Quentin was one hell of a job – him running round to make sure he had his tail in check before he took his next four steps forward.

And then the squeal. This time louder than the first and had Maddy activate the flashlight app on her phone.

“Hey there! Wanna come out so I see who you are, or what you are, whatever thing or person…?”

“Hello?!” Maddy bolder this time and Quentin whimpering as they neared the shadow cast on the carriage closest to the exit.

A tail.

Still wagging but slowly. And as she neared the creature, she saw yellow lights, dim…and a bone-shaped tag with the name “Tarantino” engraved on it.

“Annnnnnd cut!”

Another fox terrier playing dead in a movie directed by Quentin Tarantino himself in the dungeon with his crew.

maybe Quentin’s long lost brother too.

for him.

.nine,

01.02.19

untold

say we cover our lips with duct tape and tie our hands with rope from boats

in our tries of self-captivity and long stares into each other’s eyes, filled with hope

I’d like to tell you a few things before we’re unwound by our very own:

You’re beautiful. Not because I finally got to get you by my side and watch you sprout big time in every area of your life,

but with you, growing up was a thing you never hesitated to do

being quick to look for yourself within the set-up broth of endurance and letting loose all negativity into earth

my dear, you are amazeballs with every part of me you touch, and why you’ve got keen interests in my small ears is something I’m still trying to connect with

your tongue, though filled with inscriptions from the many worlds you’ve been in, feels new everytime it says hello to my cheeks and chest –

thoughts far away from pleasurable but reaching heights of ultimate satisfaction

now look at us, playful with our eyes and playing the footsies with our hearts

door dragged down and then the rush in by our families, removing the tape and rope and asking if we’re okay

but I know you and I will keep mute about this day: the day we sought to grow our hearts taller as we practised our wedding night’s dance.

untold.

For us.

.nine,

01.12.18

we for go.

the phone rang after some hours we’d got home.

“Chale tonight eh e go bee serious! Come plus the girls, and please come strapped! As in strapped, ankasa!”

Fredo. He hang up way before we could tell him that we might not surface. The paperwork for Monday alone…

“Chale so how we go do am John? Fredo too no get chill koraa o!”

And then our parents walked in.

“Hey there J & J! We decided to come over and go into the boxes. Your dad says he’s got to show his friends that he played basketball in his high-school/college years. And we didn’t come alone. His coworkers in fact made this request!”

Now they’d arrived and we obviously knew what was going to happen next – greeting ritual!

Forty minutes into pleasantries alone, another entry. It was the one and only Annoying Joy, Dad’s sister and our aunt. Last born on his side and very very very ANNOYING!

Joe! So the boys were inside and couldn’t come and help me Park the car? Joe! What do you do with these boys at all? Joe! Talk to then o! Me I don’t do my things like that o! Ahh! Only if you took my advice on sending them to Armed Forces like I did with the girls…

And she said this…every. single. time.

“Hello Auntie Joy! You’re welcome. Please water or the usual yaayi?”

And then, Fredo.

John had to drag me to the kitchen before our sad could say a word

“Yo Junior! Chale wosson? The thing start o. He say he go like make we perform too. Me mmom dierr I save the templates put the drive top.”

Joe! Can you believe the boys haven’t brought me the water for the past ten minutes since I got in? Ha!

It was two, and our parents had already been drenched in laughter as Nana Baah, Mom’s personal assistant came with the jokes

John then looked at me, and pointed to the door.

“We For Go. Fast.”

we for go.

For us.

.nine,

13.11.18