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Please what should I say to her? Rape 2

She looked at me puzzled. I stared back in shocked surprise. Elegantly dressed, a lawyer and very incisive in her comments.
‘When you look at me, you assume I have got the best of both worlds right?’
I nodded wondering what was coming and unprepared for her next sentence
‘I wish I have the nerve to kill myself, that is after I have killed him’
I asked her softly why she wanted to kill anybody in the first place including herself
Then she talked.
At nine years old, she was not sure she was going to get an education at all. Her mother was one of three wives and her father had declared that the wives were to look after the girls they had given birth to.
‘He called us apprentice witches who had taken after our mothers’
The women did the best they could either appealing to their own siblings, eking out something from their petty trade. According to Yemi, there wasn’t much to expect from her mum so her uncle was called to help.

‘ the First day on the farm, he asked me to come to the pepper patch I understood what he did then as some form of sexual assault. He had not progressed to actual rape. He said he liked me and if I kept my head, he would ensure I had a fair deal in his house. I was too awed by his big frame and his armpits smelled awful. I slept badly that night.
Next morning, he took me off to the local authority school and registered me in kindergarten one. I was almost 10 years old. The teachers taught I was a joke. Most of my classmates in a kindergarten class could speak better than me. I was the class giraffe, the fool, the errand idiot. They laughed but I was silent. I was finally in school. My mum was over the moon and she thanked her brother over and over again.
‘Two weeks of school, Uncle got drunk and I got my first rape’. Yemi went on talking in a matter of fact voice as if she was giving the facts and potentials of the case she was about to defend in court.
My heart sank as I listened, what was I going to do? Nothing much I realized as I listened to a woman who had learned to keep her own counsel and had in some fashion maybe come to some peace.
As she got older, she was able to run away and come to the city. Yemi read privately as an external student to do her WAEC. She got a job as a cleaner in one of the banks and gradually went for more courses and was able to pay her way to read the law.

She never told her mum about the pepper patch rapes. She said she did not see what good that would serve. It was payment for the opportunity to be able to read and write.
Her mother passed away when she was in 300 level in the university. When she met Bayo, she went through the motions of an excited bride and was relieved when she got pregnant. But still had nightmares of the rapes
She had a perfect excuse to keep the physical side of their relationship to the barest minimum. She had also learned to control her rages
‘I did not like all that romance stuff he was into, did not like undressing, did not want any male looking at my body so I was happy being a born-again wife. However I had developed a crazy mannerism, I would bathe at every opportunity and would perfume my body all over. If Bayo touched me I would go stiff as a board and freak out. At first, Bayo found it amusing and thought I was just shy’
‘You never told him about your uncle’?
‘Are you mad? First, he will not believe me, then that look will come into his eyes and he will watch you every minute, or he will start asking you every tiny detail wondering or teasing that you probably enjoyed even a tiny bit of the rape’.

So what do you want to do? I asked when the silence was beginning to stretch
‘Bayo wants to visit my uncle to thank him for the education, If I lay eyes on that uncle, I will have to kill him and then kill myself to stop the torture of years and misery. Will you get someone to stand for my child?’
Please, what should I say to her?

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Centre stage Clem Olaniyi


1. May we know you?

. A poet. Philosopher. Novelist. Orator. Farmer.

  1. When did you develop a love of poetry?
    As long as I can remember. Perhaps the age of 14.

  2. What has been the reception from your contemporaries on your poems?
    . Encouraging. They love and cheer for my style of writing. Some have my poems hung as mnemonics on their walls. That’s quite impressive and humbling for me

  3. What type of poetry do you favor?
    . All types. I write about anything. Everything. All things.

  4. Please share with us a bit about what you write about and why?
    . I write about life in general, even death. Talk about love, music, just anything. I’m always inspired to write at all times. Even at moments of grief and times of wild cheers I’m game on

  5. Have you had any of your poems published formally?
    . No. Not yet. Working on it definitely. I’ve had few suggestions and some offers to present my work for UNICEF in helping African children

  6. Do you think poetry can be used to change an attitude?
    . Surely, yes! Poetry is a way of life. Even every breath we take is hewn in poetry. Poetry is life. With poetry, a dirge can turn into a wild happy ballad. I just can’t be imaging life and nature without beautiful, orchestrated pieces of poetry in it. But to know what it is, you must feel it. If you’re not swinging in, you can’t mediate it.

  7. How often do you write?
    . Very often. It could be anywhere at anytime. Several times I’d wake up in the middle of the night to write. It could come by things I observe on the roadside, market, children, even the flowers. Just think of anything I’m there
  8. Share your dreams.
    Just a little I’d share. To see my name etched on the pillars of history. To create an awareness and help people realize their dreams. To help people know that poetry is not an odious thought or activity. Without poetry all forms of endeavors in life become vegetative
  9. When you look at your environment, do you see poetry gaining some level of recognition or popularity?
    We are a bit short on that right now in Nigeria of today, but we are getting “relocated” into feeding those who are bereft of it. So I believe someday, it will hold ground again. Those of old were taught with poetry. That’s why they still edge above newer guys of now. That’s why nothing exceptional has been well noticed because we are sold to a life of mundane activity devoid of creativity.

  10. What do you think of young poets liking the spoken word as a form of protest or expression
    .They yearn for fulfillment. They know that’s the only language the core of all hearts feeds on. They know a drop of water can suddenly become an ocean with poetry.

  11. Please tell us about your favorite poets, old and young
    William Shakespeare. Prof. Wole Soyinka. Those are ones still touching the strings and stirrings of my heart

  12. Which poet has had the most influence on you?
    William Shakespeare
  13. How do want to be evaluated by your peers and society?
    A phlegmatic Astute Observer. I am a clinical realist…I am evermore an alchemist of positivity, an adherent of an austere life. A man blessed with so much to offer but few of interests to be shared, who, when others don’t, does see promises in your eyes, the spark smoldering in your breasts, giving it tinder to see your soul ignites to passion
  14. Thank you coming on Centre stage
    It’s a great pleasure ma’am.

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Rape….the human disease and shame

It was raining heavily and Tinu, driving in the rain felt the beginnings of a headache coming on. She sighed and the phone rang, one cursory look confirmed it was Banji on the phone. She stretched out her hand to pick the phone, saw the girl and stopped.

The girl was obviously lost as she seemed oblivious of the rain, gathering her tattered clothes about her. Her blouse was torn, eyes were swollen and as Tinu stopped, got out of the car, she knew it was much worse than being lost. The girl had been beaten and she bled.
Tinu simply took the girl into the car and drove to the doctor. She was enraged and had a murderous glint in her eyes.

Thirty minutes later the doctor came back to the consulting room. Tinu gave the doctor a questioning look, there was also an appeal in those eyes as it silently asked for answers.
‘Rape my friend, by more than one person, she doesn’t seem to know the assailants. They dumped her at the bus stop when they were done with her.’ The doctor replied her silent query grimly.
Tinu unclenched her fists and asked to be taken to the ward to see the girl.
‘Now they dump them in the streets’ she said through clenched teeth as she narrated the story to her husband Banji much later.
Anike, the girl who was raped had been lured by the promise of a job in a neighboring town so she was completely lost and didn’t know where to go when those who called her for an interview simply grabbed her.
Are you shocked? That is just one scenario, there are several. I will share as much as my anger, disgust and bewilderment will permit
Where do you place your sympathy, in the midst of the calamities befalling the human race?
That is not the end of Anike’s problem you know. Her mother simply refused to accept that Anike was not to blame, and there was horror at the mere fact of letting the law enforcement agents come into the picture. She felt she would be blamed because she had not been strict enough with her child.
In the African tradition, a good child belongs to the father and any misbehavior of the child is placed at the doorstep of the mother.
Where does that leave Anike? Nowhere.
What kind of parents are we? Is there any form of support system in this country that helps someone like Anike? She sits and stares, I heard she was given a rape kit, a government lawyer came to talk to her and after much persuasion, her mother went with her to the police station. The officer gave her a lewd look and yawned.
She has refused to make further visits to the Police, the lawyer says she is busy and there is growing terror in the eyes of Anike as I watch her each time I visit.
I read the book of Robert Uttaro TO THE SURVIVORS’ and I ask myself questions.
I ask you now, Rape has been an issue right from Biblical times. Are we as humans so defective that we have been unable to resolve this type of murder?

I read from the good book that the commandment said clearly Thou shalt not kill.
We murder or we are accessories to the act before and after when another human being is raped. We take without permission the fundamental human rights of another human being in the act of rape.
There are so many types of it and starting from today, each week on this day, I will send you posts about rape.
Why?
I hope you will help in your own way to raise a voice against rape, and domestic violence.
Let’s do something, please.

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PLEDGES OF LOVE


PLEDGES OF LOVE
Hello there
This is some kind of special post for me. I am celebrating. Not just a love affair that has lasted in spite of odds against its survival, but I learned the meaning of prayer in times of acute need.
Have I never prayed? I think I did since I was always thinking of improving my reaction to the challenges Life brings and since these thoughts impelled my poems. I have prayed for my children, I have prayed against hunger, we all do. I have found myself asking sadly if the Creator intended that in this incarnation I might have to be of want for most of the time. I have learned to be content with what I could have, based on my work and reluctantly I have assumed owning a plane might not make it into my bucket list. (Go ahead and laugh)

However,I learned in May this year, the meaning of wanting something so badly I could only mutter one word of prayer with an urgency and desperation that left me blinking. Just the name of the Lord.My prayer was answered in such a stupendous way that I have been awed silent since then. But I need to say thank you to friends who held me silently, virtually, and some of them I never met.

This is my thank you to everyone, for one week with effect from Friday 15th September subscribers, and anyone is free to download my collection of romantic poems. Creation swings on the axis of God’s LOVE.

All you need do is going to the products page and download PLEDGES OF LOVE for your reading pleasure.
I hope you enjoy it as I did at the various times I did.

It will have a sale price thereafter.
Thank you for being my friend, you will never know how much you contributed to being me, it is my way of awed appreciation that with all my shortcomings a wordless desperate prayer was answered by the Creator of all the worlds.

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Chants in my dreams

LIVING IS GIVING

It is only in giving
of your love
that you understand hate.
It is only in giving
of your understanding
that you comprehend envy
It is only in giving
of your compassion
that you know pain
It is only in giving
of your service
That you teach selflessness.

The book of life
teaches all that
care to look through
It’s sustaining pages
as one garners through
all our painful ages
that if we fain wish
to return to the lit
gardens of our beginnings
we must make our pinnings
rest on the crock of
these life-sustaining teachings
never to but learn
the greatest gift of light.

Gave to all its creatures
that gift that all creatures
stand as mirrors to our faults.

If we must thus understand
this as we experience
we will in truth
give gratitude to Him
in the weaving of the Loom
we stand against the boon
when we hesitate to return
in full measure received
the everlasting love
of the Father Almighty.

Now available inthe collection Chants in my dreams at biolaephesus.com

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Chants in my dreams

You can now purchase Chants in my dreams from my website biolaephesus.com
It is an ebook of my first publishedcollection in 1997. Most people who know me are aware of my love for poetry.
Let me share a few of the collections to see if I can interest you.
I WISH I CAN FLY
I wish I can fly
so that I might try
to learn to understand
from that height; my stand

I wish I can walk
so that all my talk
will thence be my progress
towards all I might profess

I wish I can pray
that I might not fall prey
to all that tries to trap
even as I evade their grab.

I wish I can trust
that all that are human,
actually carry gifts of man,
exercising all that is just.

I wish all these wishes
that even all the witches
have a hectic time fulfilling
all these impossible pinnings

THE LIBERIAN WAR
The war in Liberia
came one day to stay
at our breakfast table
father picked his gun
with shinning eyes we
heard mama tell of
father’s show of valour
to bring to brothers unknown
the gift of a doubtful peace.

The war in Liberia
blessed our hope with
the arrival of Lollita
the war-front soon changed
our shinning faces dimmed
for the cracking guns
and the cannon roar
of the ricocheting words
of the battle fierce
between Father and Mother
pitched us as losers all.

TRUE BEAUTY OF MAN
A man’s true beauty
is not outward alone,
skin-deep beauty
may mask an ugly mien
that unveiled stuns and repels.

True beauty of the soul
lives and lingers
like a fragrant rose
Welcoming and satisfying.

A man’s first breath
is his first contract
with Good and Evil
to decide for himself
the exercise of which
he might use all his life.

Compassion of the spirit
is like a golden nugget
like a running brook
through the rivers of life
a kaleidoscope of his
fortunes and losses
gain or lose he
makes an investment on the
quality of his life.

A selfless man
is like a rare bird
that flits through life
touching everything with
his healing touch.

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Poetry my love

Sounds funny when I say that. But I am always awed when I read poetry. There is a trend in my country these days, the spoken word. But, I wonder why it took us such a long time. When I came down south from the North, one of the things I enjoyed was listening to my grandmother render poetry in her soft musical voice. It was a way of life for her, she was a priestess of the loving kind. She would greet the day, the morning and whatever issue she had could be resolved with poetry. Most times I didn’t understand the words,but always felt the rhythm.

When I gotto secondary school, myteachers almost took the love of poetry away from me with the constant attention to rhymes and such stuff. I found myself needing to look for words that ryhmed and I felt I lost the spontaneity of the words as they came to me. I enjoyed myself though by simply ignoring that and wrote from the heart. The words would bubble out of me and I would just write.

My first ever published work was a collection of poems I called CHANTS IN MY DREAMS. I have been taking a look at the book, that was some twenty years ago and I still found the poems spoke to me even now. I am making an ebook of it and would like to invite you to visit my website to read some of the poems and if you love them enough to order for the ebook. The ebook should be ready by the end of the month or earlier.
Would like to share with you and who knows might learn a thing or two from you if you post your thoughts back on the website.
Here are just two from the 130+ pages.
WAKE UP
Wake up quickly
greet the dawn
in gratitude for
your life

Wake up happy
see the sun
the gifts of love
to make hay
all your life

Wake up laughing
hear the birds
join the choir
of angels in heaven
with the industry
of your life

Wake up grateful
watch the earthworm
sow through all
you do, your expectations
through Him
of the gift of Eternity
for your spirit

STOKING MY STROKES
There are different strokes
so my mama said
when I tried to stoke
the fires of life.
listen son, she said
one stroke for each prayer
one stroke for each desire
mayhaps success will reach

So now I am stroking,
an angle tilted toward luck
the lady with the capricious smile
a prayer also,
that while thus stroking,
fate bored with his lady luck
will fling her smiling into my
waiting arms.
has life ever been won
with so much strokes.?

Looking forward to you exploring anddropping your comments.

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Centre Stage with Feyisayo Anjorin

Welcome to Centre Stage. Do you listen to tales by moonlight when you were young? I have become nostalgic about that particular aspect of my growing years. Do we tell stories these days? What do we really enjoy? I interact with the younger folks and try to learn what page of our past they are reading from. What types of writers and actors do we have now in the village square, what stories do they listen to? My guest today on Centre Stage is interesting .He is a focused, aware and determined young man. He gave me a lot to admire
Please welcome Feyisayo Anjorin, actor and writer to Centre Stage

1.May we know you?
My name is Feyisayo Anjorin, from Ondo state, Nigeria; last child in a family of three children, a lover of stories, a husband of one wife, a bible student, a lover of Yoruba culture, and a 21st century explorer.

2.Which do you prefer? acting or writing?
I love writing more; because of the freedom a writer has over the world of the story.
3. Take a look at the Nigerian literary scene and comment

We still have a long way to go. In a nation of over a hundred and forty million people I believe we should have more impact in the English language world, and also we should have more stories told in our many languages. Most of our widely known writers are based in the US and Europe, so that tells of an environment that doesn’t support creative writing. Writers have it hard all over the world, no doubt about that. Except you are the J K Rowlings or G R R Martins of this world, writing is not exactly lucrative and we’ve had great writers that have died dirt poor; but there is a difference between places where people appreciate good writing and places where people read just to pass exams or just to see “the seven steps to riches”. The lack of vibrant reading culture and critical thinking is stifling the literary scene.
I see a lot of people that claim to be writers but are only attracted to the fame of popular writers; and then the distractions of social media. Critical thinking is becoming something rare because most people prefer to follow trends than ask questions. Great writers are the one who ask questions that cowards try to avoid.
At the same time, there are more writers- than in the past – who are not chained by the idea that a writer should write in a certain way, about certain things. That, for me, is freedom.

4.When I was young, I used to listen to tales by moonlight in its most literal sense. how much has the internet today taken that away from us
I think the internet is the full expression of the flaws of democracy. The feeling that if anything is popular or accepted by the masses, then it has to be super, great, or admirable. Truth is: if a million people support foolishness, it is still foolishness. What the internet has done is dumb down a lot of things to pretty pictures and likes and comments; a celebration of shallowness. The way anonymity allows for irresponsibility, such that people are more interested in getting their voices out (or should I say “noise” ) rather than listening to anyone. I think there needs to be a balance of rights and responsibility for the whole freedom of speech thing to work. What the internet has done is give room for a lot of irresponsible but appealing voices. What the internet has also done is give ample room for writers to bypass the gatekeepers who are stuck in their views of what African stories should read like. It’s about excellence. I don’t really think the popularity of any medium kills another medium. When the radio came it didn’t ‘kill’ the newspapers, when TV came it didn’t ‘kill’ the radio, and so on; so I believe tales by moonlight would still be successful now if it is well packaged for the audience.

  1. I learned you write flash fiction, sci-fi and such strange genres to the Nigerian reader, do you think there is hope for such a writer in Nigeria?
    I don’t really think there is hope for any writer in Nigeria. Like I said, most of the popular Nigerian writers are beyond our shores; having said that, I think there is a market for flash fiction because it is easy to read at a sitting, for people who may not have time for over three hundred pages of the same stories. I listen to radio presenters like KoladeAlabi, Kola Olawuyi and others, so I think fantasy and stuff based on Yoruba spirituality would work; as for robots, time-travel and other science fiction stories, it’s all about the writer finding his or her audience and then telling the stories.

6,The writer is hardly celebrated but there is a special amnesia about modern Nigerian writers, particularly creative writers, what remedy would you prescribe?
Nigerian writers are celebrated in Nigeria when they are first celebrated in the US and Europe. I think our value system is faulty. I mean, who cares about a writer when a thug in agbada is in the national assembly, calling the shots? Who cares about a writer when the entire system tells you in many ways that your excellence counts for nothing? We need good governance; a complete overhaul of this parasitic political system. And then more funding for education. Then writers may have a chance.
7. Share your dream
I have a dream of Africa without nepotism; where excellence and integrity are embraced as norms.

8. In an interview I watched recently you talked about the modern Nigerian writer as distinct and separate from the icons like Soyinka and Achebe, care to share that here?
The Soyinkas and the Achebes were writers who were young in the days of many post-colonial African nations, hence their writings expressed the spirit of the times. Because African writings in English were not many at that time and the platforms were limited, there was a sort of narrow view of what an African should write about. For example, modern Nigerian writers now write crime fiction (LeyeAdenle’s ‘Easy Motion Tourist’), erotica fiction (ObinnaUdenwe’s ‘Holy Sex’). There are writers like Teju Cole, Chigozie Obioma and Sefi Atta who reminds one of the Soyinkas and the Achebes and the Clarks; but I believe writers have more freedom to write what they like without being seen as not writing ‘something serious’.

9.Are we likely to have a Nobel Laureate from the younger generation soon?
I believe so. Nobels are awarded for body of work, not just one or two books; so I believe if the younger generation continue to write excellent works (like the Adichies, Coles, Obioma’s Attas and Unigwes are doing); one day is one day.
10. Old writers were seen as the conscience and mirror of our socio-political growth, what is happening in the modern trend of writing?
There are more cowards in this generation than in the past ones. The love of fame, the love of money; some people are so fickle, there is no firm believe in anything except what is popular and lucrative. People are afraid to speak the truth. We are a generation of cowards.

11. What type of writing attracts the Nigerian today?
Writings by pastors who tell people that tithing will make them rich, writings by pastors who is ready to tell them the demon behind everything, writings about how someone became a billionaire, written by a hungry fellow. Those sorts.

12.Do you have any book published and where can we get them to buy?
My novel, “Kasali’s Africa”, is set to be published in the US. It would be available in Amazon US. I’m trying to get my publishers to make it available in online bookstores here and in Konga and Jumia.

Thank you for coming on Centre stage
Thanks for having me. Very much appreciated.

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DO I HAVE SIX STOMACHS?

It started innocently enough, one of my girls insisted I love one of her sisters the most of my children and she really lashed out in pain. We always argued and I tended to keep asking her to get her act right. Then she told me I was trying to put her in a mould and very sharply told me she is different. ‘Do what grandma told you, have space in your stomach for me but not in the same space with my sister’

My mother had always said she had six stomachs, that is where the stomach talk came from.
I remember staring at her stomach often. How can you have six stomachs?

I did not understand for a long time until my understanding of my language made it clearer that what mum meant was that she had six different understanding of her six children r did she mean love or favour?

Can parents favour one child over the other? I really do not want to answer that question even for me. But I understand my mother after I had six children myself. Do I favour one child over the other? Please don’t ask me the question again. I am reluctant to ask myself and I refuse to answer because you see, I really don’t have an answer
In my race, we tend to check for the origin of an incarnation, so we might understand the manner of invitation or mission of the child thus invited. I remember I wondered about my first son and knew well ahead about the others some part of the manner of their incarnation. No I am not being fanciful.

How do you see your children? Could they really be friends?. I watch my friends sometimes when they try to impose a religion on their children and they generally support these impositions with plentiful quotes from the good books. So how did I become such a rebel?

I hate being pigeon-holed and generally leave an association once it begins to stifle me. Almost all my children have picked these traits.

Do I have six stomachs? Do I view my children differently?, rate them differently? Yes of course, because they are six, uniquely different from each other. Then I understood mum. Yes you can have six stomachs. Yes you love them differently. Equally? Ergh, can we compare love by volume? Quality? Love? That serves, nourishes, strengthen? I doubt. What is the measure?

Some nights I just lie awake agonising over a child who seemed to me to be so different from me that I wonder how we happen to have woven a thread that necessitated us sharing another incarnation together. I wonder, agonize and sometimes am at pains to understand. I am not the only mother who does that you know.
It was one of the reasons that helped me talk to my mother again. I could finally understand and empathize with her confusion over me. I think I gave her the most cause for headaches. I was so different that we hardly could have a meeting point.

Now as a parent and grandma, I remember and sometimes nod in silent acknowledgement of my mother’s comment over six stomachs. I probably have six stomachs too.
How do we navigate the parenting waters and be able to bring each child to shore safely and move on without leaving scars or scarring them too negatively?

I do seem to have a lot of questions right? And you must have assumed I have forgotten all about parenting.
The invitation is still open to visit the parenting forum on the site and do let me know what you think.
How many stomachs do you have?
Talk soon

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Miranda on Centre stage

I always thought that the fastest way to express yourself was through poetry. I grew up listening in awe to dirges, Ijala, and such. Half of it went over my head because of the language but I was always held spell bound by the rhythm and tone. I always love poetry so I had the distinct pleasure of wanting to put Miranda on Centre stage when I learned she had just published a book and it was poetry! Let’s meet her

Congratulations on your book, and welcome to Centre Stage
Thank you! It’s my pleasure to be here.

May we know you?
I am Miranda Ese Ogboru ( Née Omeben ). A Nigerian from Edo State.
I studied Applied Arts and Education though I never taught in a school.
My interest now lies in creative writing, composing songs and discovering the healing powers of Nature. I am blessed with four wonderful children and one grand daughter

Looks like your first foray is poetry, why is that?
I have always loved reading poetry however, I started writing in the 90’s. I never imagined that I would end up publishing my works. But that changed when family and friends kept urging me to share this gift with the world. I started featuring my poems on a couple of Poetry platforms, then gradually the “adventure” developed into a desire that led to the birth of MY LOOM OF MANY COLOURS.

How do you find the Nigerian literary scene?
The Nigerian literary scene is evolving. It’s been a long journey right from the days of Chinua Achebe, Wole Soyinka, J.P. Clark and a host of others. We have seen the emergence of our indigenous literature and other forms of creative writing. It is so heart-warming to have the likes of Chimamanda who has become a force to reckon with internationally. We now have Poetry events that attract a fairly impressive turn-out in major Nigerian cities. A literary awareness seem to be spreading. More people are exploring their writing abilities under the umbrella of various literary societies and platforms. We may not have reached our desired goal … No, not yet! But I can safely say that we are forging ahead and gradually spreading a writing/ reading culture among the people especially the youths.

What motivates you in the things you write
My motivations are derived from what writing is to me. Writing for me is therapeutic. Sometimes it is purgative. Sometimes it is an escape route. Sometimes the motivation could just be a burning desire to share from deep within. Other times, the sheer ecstasy I derive from sweet moments with my muse is just enough motivation. Basically, my purpose I my motivation.

The spoken word as a form of interactive poetry is begining to trend in the country, how familiar are you with this?
Spoken word poetry! I love it. This type of poetry has been has with us for a long time … If you consider the fact that RAP is spoken word. I understand that RAP is an acronym for Rhythm And Poetry. These days, I hear of “grand slam” open mic competition etc. I must say it is challenging to commit poems to memory for me. I admire those who do so as long as they have a worthy message for their audience. Some just rant profane and degrading lines. Ideally, spoken word is a great way to reach out with noble messages. We certainly can do with all the spoken word we can get as long as the message is uplifting.

When did you start liking poetry?
I have always loved poetry … Right from the days of “Pussy cat, Pussy cat.” But truly I fell in love with Poetry when it dawned on me that it is a medium through which I can reach out.

What will you advise the younger generation about any form of literary appreciation?
There is the need for the younger generation to read as wide as possible. They should familiarize themselves with grammar as it should be, idiomatic expressions, figures of speech and the art of writing. They should be open to correction. Without these, one would be completely lost in the world of literature. Some people just write and call for a standing ovation, no critiquing, no correction. It is a wrong mind-set. They would always be out of touch with the rudiments of literature let alone it’s mastery or appreciation.

Share a normal day with us?
By nature I’m not a rigid person. So my normal day could be hectic or relaxing. I always start the day with prayers and meditation. Then my herbal tea or just warm water ritual follows. I am really lazy at exercising but then, I try to do a bit of stretching here and there then some tappings for energy flow, then clean up starts. I try to make my meals mostly Ketogenic to keep my weight and my sugar levels down. Thereafter I attend to whatever task I am scheduled for or whatever my hands find to do – writing, networking, attending to my grand daughter and a host of other things. My day has become very flexible since I disengaged from office work.

Where can we get copies of your book?
At the moment, MY LOOM OF MANY COLOURS is to be found on Amazon and can be downloaded on Kindle. In a short while, we are hoping to have hard copies which would be at bookshops.

Any comments or views you will like to share
In a world where a lot of music that is being churned out lacks educative or inspirational content, I honestly wish that more writers would write meaningful lyrics for songs or collaborate with singers. For instance, It was quite refreshing to hear Beyonce use lines of Chimamanda’s work in her song. Writers should be aware that whatever they write would outlive them and so must be very careful of the message they leave behind for future generations.

Thank you for coming on centre stage
Here is my take
THE PASSAGE
A door closes
And another opens!
When at death the eyes close
Then at birth, they open
As sure as day follows night.
Indolently, they say ‘It all ends here.’
But No! Onwards further!
Death here, birth yonder.
We do live when we leave here
As sure as day follows night.
When the Intellect slumbers
In the world of dreams
When brain matter ceases to be
In the belly of the earth
Downwards or upwards you continue to journey
As sure as day follows night.