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Woman and other poems….Poetry


Woman
Don’t summarize me as woman
The weak sex
your ornament
bed warmer
house decor
look into my eyes
your fate is written
by the level of appreciation
you give to my spirit
to show you
way home
to the Lights
See me as woman
guided by the streams
of creation
to hold the beams
of Light back home
I am woman
dignified by grace
and enhanced by His Love
to stand as gate to your dreams
I am woman
I may help you
if you know how
to treat me as Woman.

THE RITE OF BECOMING WOMAN
Locked in the rhythm
Of my bloody past
We walk along the paths
Strewn with the pains
Of our tradition

I become woman
Through the red mists
Of the circumciser’s knife
Through the groan of torn flesh
I became a member
Of a bloody clan
That gave me membership
Through the cut of my womanhood
That denies my right
To be creator’s woman

I walk the nights
Feel the morning’s kiss
But stand in swirls of pain
That decides my right
To belong to the clan

Through the mists of pain
I hear his grunt
Of pleasure
Through mists of pain
I must bring forth his seed


Sweet revenge

She splayed him out
sang lullaby to his screams
as she tested the knife
against his scrotum
one peel after the other
she carved
in bloody art
all the names
he called her
in drunken stupor
through the red mist
as he raped her
and maimed her
for any man.

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Numen!


“Madam, it is your right to take the money. These idiots think of the state as their personal treasury. Make hay while the sun shines is my motto, Madam,” he counseled.

Ife bit her lip seeing the difficulty of her position. She gave the secretary a smile. “Let me tell you a small story. There was a woman who was invited by accident into a coven of witches. The first time she was dragged to the coven, she feared for her life and was told to play along so she could learn how to escape, but she witnessed the child of the leader being contributed as a meal for them to devour.
She kept her portion and hid it inside her leg. So her leg got fatter than the rest of her body for she kept hiding her portion of the human beings killed at the coven. They made her rich, believing she was part of them and she held her peace blaming Olodumare for not striking the witches dead. However one day, it was announced to her that she was to contribute her only child for a particular festival of the witches. Her child had just graduated from the University, done his NYSC successfully and against all expectations gotten a job. This woman was happily looking forward to reap the fruits of her labor so definitely she had no intention to accede to the request of the witches.

She appealed to them that sacrificing her child was just not on the cards. The witches laughed and said since she had accepted every potion she had been given, they requested she should return it, she smiled relieved and offered them her leg, stating that her portion of each meal was embedded in her leg. The leader of the witches gave a long chilling laugh and told her that what they had given her was not just a leg, but at different times other parts of the body. They told
her to make things fair, while the leg had been fattened by her, they would need all the other body parts.

“You see, she was guilty by association under the laws of creation; birds of the same feathers flock together. She was always free to refuse to come to the coven. She was always free not to accept the portions she had received. She was bound by the judgment that what you sow is what you reap. So the witches ate her alive while she remained conscious of what was happening to her body. An association is free but the consequences of the association is not free.
There is no way I am going to be able to afford the consequence of this gift. It might become too expensive for me. Please thank Her Excellency and let her know I am deeply grateful but I possibly cannot accept the gift.”
Ife felt close to tears as she finished her long reply. The personal secretary hesitatingly asked if he was expected to tell the story of the witch when he returned the money.
Ife saw greed come into his eyes and knew immediately that he had no intention of returning the money, in fact she read his thoughts and learned what he had planning on saying so she laughed and took the envelope saying she might as well bell the cat herself.

Get your copy from Ifwgpublishing.com or at amazon.com

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Our Bookshop list

Hello, would like to share with you our current bookshop list. Come over and see our books and then make your choices.
1. Lola Babalola takes you through marriage in her book Helpmeet

You would be inspired by her insights

2. Blood Contract by Biola Olatunde is an adventure into the hostage business in the Niger Delta area of Nigeria, it is an interesting adventure that will tell you about those things you hardly hear about

You can buy online or check our shop

3.Pedal by Louis Lowy is a book you will not want to drop. It is touching story ofa woman who still beleives enough in herself to give herself a second chance at dreams and fulfillment

The book is available online

4. Numen Yeye by Biola Olatunde is book one of a trilogy. A Nigerian fantasy around the myths, tradition culture and politics that defines us and the challenges we face in a rapidly changing and evolving world


It is available at ifwgpublishing.com as well at all good online shops. For our Nigerian readers efforts are in being put in place to make it available in Nigeria at affordable prices.

We will update you regularly. Visit our bookshop or go to the shop to make your purchases.

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GET YOUR PRIORITIES RIGHT


My name is Mercy. I am a christian.
I got married at 25, finished my PhD at 27 and became a Professor at 40.
So fast you said? Yes, everything around me work fast. It was now that I realise that it was a misplaced priority.
My ambition blindfolded me and I got it all wrong, that is why I am sharing my experience through this medium to warn and encourage our young mothers not to be careless as I was back then.
I worked very hard as a lecturer and as an administrator, always busy that it became my language to my children.
My mum was around to nurse the children for me for sometime, the moment they clock ten, I usually send them to boarding school, though my husband was not in support but I always find my way. I have no good warm relationship with my children, 2 boys and a girl.
I never knew it was a bad idea not to have time with my husband, children and the household, until 5 years ago, when guilt, loneliness and restlessness filled my heart. I sent for my children to rejoice with me at my 60th birthday.
The two boys, staying in Canada said they are busy and that their sister will come down from South Africa.
Two days to my birthday, my daughter sent this message to me,
“Mum, I am very sorry not to be around over there, there is no time to squize out, my husband needs my attention at his newly established clinic, presently, I’m pregnant, very busy and lonely in a strange land”
Please pray for us mum. Happy birthday”. I could not get out of the meaning I get from the message. “First-thing-First”. When they needed me for warmth and discussion, I was not available, now I need them for warmth and discussion I could not get them, rather they returned my slogan back to me “I’m busy”
To worsen the matter, my dear died in his sleep a month after…only one of the children came without his family to the burial ceremony, I was dumbfounded!!!
#COMMENT: it is good to work and be a hard working fellow. But hear this important and salient biblical truth, Parenting is a sacrificial work, give it all it takes, any work that will take away your attention too much from your home – #Avoid it and be careful!
#SOLIDIFY YOUR HOME FIRST, CREATE TIME FOR HUSBAND AND CHILDREN, ESTABLISH THE FEAR OF GOD IN THEIR HEART THROUGH YOUR ATTITUDE AND BEHAVIOUR.

THOUGH, IT IS COSTLY NOW, BUT THE FUTURE REWARD IS WORTH IT.
Prov 31 – the woman receive reward of praise at the end after series of home-care activities.
THIS IS AN EYE OPENER FOR BOTH MEN & WOMEN.
LET’S BE SELFLESSLY AVAILABLE WHEN OUR CHILDREN NEEDS US.
GOD BLESS.

Kindly post to the Parenting Blog.
Very interesting you would say, a parent brought this to my attention.

Here is one response,
Charles Ayo Dada wrote: They wanted doctors, lawyers, pharmacists, geologists and engineers … and they ensured that they got it! Little did they know that with their “selfish aspirations”, the world would be losing… the best carpenters, cooks, musicians, writers, artists, gardeners, farmers, visionaries, and inventors, whose innovations and revolutionary discoveries were to change the world!

Parents beware!

Adjust yourselves to the nature of the child guest who comes through you … but does not belong to you!

That was Charles, but my questions are:
Are we guilty of wanting to fulfil our frustrated dreams through our children?
Are the children, investment against our old age or are entitled to be allowed to lead their own lives once they have attained maturity?
When must we learn to stand aside and watch, guide, love and be friends ?.
Are you a possessive parent?
So many questions. Let’s talk shall we?

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Learning Lessons

Hello everyone,
I am sharing my fortieth year as a writer. It was a bit surprising when my husband noted thatthis year makesit the fortieth year of my writing experience.
So I had to ask myself a few questions. what has been my experience. I live in a country where the reading culture had been bastardised.
What have I achieved in all the 40 years? Is it worth celebrating?
Given the country I live in,I have grown a lot, my writing skills has improved. In recognition of that length of time, I changed the look of my website. made a conscious effort to reflect on what has moved me through the years.
I am bit surprised to note that I have always been socially conscious, from my romantic plays, to my detective series as well as so many other stories. I even wrote horror stories which recently changed forms to religious and fantasy.
I have published quite a number of novels, poetry and produced plays.
I am musing today and will share in the weeks to come my stories, rationale and lessons learned.Meanwhile let me share this with you
TREAD SOFTLY

Don’t get lost
In the weft of threads
Don’t swim west
From the heat of sweat
Don’t make mounds
From life’s hounds
Search through the chaff
From the flowing stream
Each clap of thunder
Each sighing hiss
Of the fierce lightning
Evidence of streaming light
Follow the rainbow stream
And friend, you’ll be home.

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Learning Lessons

Hello everyone,
I am sharing my fortieth year as a writer. It was a bit surprising when my husband noted thatthis year makesit the fortieth year of my writing experience.
So I had to ask myself a few questions. what has been my experience. I live in a country where the reading culture had been bastardised.
What have I achieved in all the 40 years? Is it worth celebrating?
Given the country I live in,I have grown a lot, my writing skills has improved. In recognition of that length of time, I changed the look of my website. made a conscious effort to reflect on what has moved me through the years.
I am bit surprised to note that I have always been socially conscious, from my romantic plays, to my detective series as well as so many other stories. I even wrote horror stories which recently changed forms to religious and fantasy.
I have published quite a number of novels, poetry and produced plays.
I am musing today and will share in the weeks to come my stories, rationale and lessons learned.Meanwhile let me share this with you
TREAD SOFTLY

Don’t get lost
In the weft of threads
Don’t swim west
From the heat of sweat
Don’t make mounds
From life’s hounds
Search through the chaff
From the flowing stream
Each clap of thunder
Each sighing hiss
Of the fierce lightning
Evidence of streaming light
Follow the rainbow stream
And friend, you’ll be home.

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Resolutions…..what are they?

“How did they come about anyway?” my daughter asked me
We were discussing new year resolutions and I had asked her if she had thought of any for this year. You know I never really thought that it originated from somewhere.

Do you think new year resolutions started from somewhere or as a result of something? I don’t think so though, but I sense that it must have started from the human mind deciding to review its past activities and checking for itself how far it has gone towards achieving a goal or a set of goals.
Remember how we set so many goals for ourselves, it is indicative of the prayers we make too. Not one prayer point, but several in fact in the space of a minute. We do have a lot we want. So I asked her what she had set for herself as a goal this year. She frowned then gave me a questioning look.

“Mum, I am not being rude, but If I tell you, Iam going to have a hard time working at it as you will be checking me out to know if I am working at the resolution. I think resolutions are private you know”
I swallowed as I acknowledged the truth of that statement. But can we give our ourselves resolutions? How dowe teach our children, the importance of resolutions? Is it supposed to be at a particular time of the year?
I remember that for me my resolutions or review tends to be as I approach my birthday. It is that time of year when I wonder what the Creator wished I could do with my present incarnation and as I take my first breath my contract begins .

I used to think that is when I review what I have done in the past year. For me the first day of January is just the first day of the new year but not the first day of my new year. They are other days of similar importance in the calendar of my growth to a goal. So it generally is part of a collective review.
I thought of all these as I chatted with my daughter. She asked me why I had lapsed into such silence, so I smiled and shared my thoughts. Her eyes opened wide in surprise and she nodded.
“You know mum, actually, I sense a day should be a review. We could make each evening of our lives a review of what he had done and make a resolution against the next day”

Now it was my turn to stare and give silent thanks for the opportunity of experiencing this gem.
So, resolutions? What are they really? There are the decisions we take each time we give ourselves a chance to honestly review how we have acted and make a resolution to improve on it.
If we take it one day at a time, we stand a pretty good chance of keeping, maintain and sustaining our resolutions.
My daughter smiled, and touched my shoulder, “and you didn’t like pastors mum?”
I stared and she laughed blowing me a kiss
Happy new year everyone

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What shall we give Jesus for His Birthday?

It is the time of year when we all remember it as the season of goodwill right? So when my daughter kept giving me broad hints about what she wanted for the Christmas celebration, I sighed wondering how I was going to communicate to her what the real Christmas was supposed to be.

All those nativity scenes and movies she kept watching was not doing the thing I wanted to pass across. I had noticed that each time I patted the seat beside me and asked her that we should chat she would become restless and remember something she needed to do in her room. Hmm , her room had become some kind of fortress these days. She was always hiding in there. I did not want to invade her privacy as I am a stickler for privacy myself, I could snoop in there. I asked myself the question, why would I snoop in her room? I didn’t like that picture of myself so I waited.

This afternoon, I was checking my old box of memorabilia that I always took with me and my hand struck my piggy bank. A smile came across my face as I gently stroked it and I knew I would start bawling in a minute as I remember my dad. He was my hero and I could never stop talking about the things he taught me even with his silences and his silent trust of me. The piggy bank started with him asking me to drop whatever tips his friends who came round gave me. He said I might be surprised what I would have saved by the end of the year. He said he would give me the interest toad to it. We made a pact and he gave me the piggy bank. If I was sent on errands by his friends, they would tend to ask me to keep the change. That went into my bank. Some days I would sit and daydream that angels would fill up the bank for me. Other times, dad would give me a smile if I had made some really good grades and hand me some coins to put in my bank.

Each year by the beginning of the third quarter he would order for clothes for the children. He did not like the rush towards Christmas. So usually as the last month came round, I was always in a fever of impatience to have the chance to put on my new clothes and go visit friends and relatives.
As this particular Christmas approached I kept hinting to dad that I would love to have “bisco’ you know the glittering sticks we burned at Christmas, I was not into bangers and the noise but I loved bisco and would stare at the glittering showers imagining I was seeing stars come and go.

However dad’s question was very surprising.
What is Christmas for?
It is the birthday of Jesus dad, we all know that
Hmmm… so what are you getting him for his birthday then?
I stared, then stammered. He is not here dad, he is in heaven
Is that why we can’t give him a birthday present? We pray to him don’t we every morning?
I slowed down and gave my dad a puzzled look
He smiled, that very special smile of his and wondered if Jesus might not like me giving Ahmed the little boy next door a football for Christmas.
He is a Muslim dad and he doesn’t celebrate Christmas
He is God’s creature my son, and Jesus is neither Christian nor Muslim but the incarnate Love of the Creator. You think we might just give Jesus a lovely birthday gift of love which we show to our neighbor whoever they are wherever they maybe.

Your neighbor is just a thought away and it is faster than the second.
I knocked on my daughter’s bedroom door as I sent a prayer of thanks to dad for his Christmas gift

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What is that darling?

girl-882336_1280

How modern are we as parents? Really and truly?
Tinu is the executive officer of an NGO “Belfort Place”. She has a daughter called Banke. I am deliberately dispensing with surnames. That way they are private while we talk about them.

Banke is home on an exeat of a day. The mother takes Banke shopping and as they move towards the check out, something drops from Banke’s bag. Tinu had the presence of mind not to react instantly as Bank quickly drops it back in her bag. But for the rest of the shopping, Tinu is distracted. Later during refreshment, conversation ensues
Tinu: Who is he?
Banke: (Very mystified) He?
Tinu: Saw the condom in your bag
Tinu leans back and laughs, but Tinu is about to have a heart attack, never mind that her NGO counsels people on rape and victims.

“Honestly I didn’t know what to make of it, had she become sexually active already? She is only sixteen?”
Tinu had given her mother a look, shrugged and explained that another NGO had come to their school and distributed free condoms to all of them.
Tinuhad a lot to think about, it was an NGO, and the students had been given a talk about sexual activities. Tinu said, she felt suddenly vulnerable about her daughter and was not so sure she welcomed the idea of condom distribution in her daughter’s school. Seriously now, how many of us as parents who claim to be modern really love the idea of that talk? When we shared the event with Tunrayo, she was scandalized and went on and on about NGOs being part of the problem. She was of the view that children should not be told anything until they were well into their first year in University.
“Don’t be a goose Tunrayo said sharply, Olayinka got raped while she was in 300 level and she had been told nothing. If her mother had taken time to talk about sexuality at all, the poor girl would not have gone off to a strange city with her half- brother.

The argument moved from should NGOs be allowed to give sexuality orientation in secondary schools? Notice that my emphasis has been on sexuality and not on sex education. Is there a difference? Sure there is a difference? However the experience today is : what would be your reaction if your girl child has a packet of condom in her bag.
Banke said, she used the condom to let her seniors know of her preferred orientation
That started Tinu off as she asked what was going on in the boarding house for girls?
Banke rolled her eyes and turned to me: “Big Mummy, have you ever heard of feathering”
My throat went dry as I asked what she meant, and she said

When a senior girl is interested in a girl in the school, they ask her to be a friend with benefits. They educate her in what they mean about the benefits. If she refuses to give them the password to her server, they feather her. That means they come round to her bed at night and initiate her. Can you persuade my mum that I do not wish to give anybody right now a password to my server?
Can somebody please educate me further?

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Conversations with Mama

The pain didn’t have a location and it was not physical. But it hurt so badly I sighed awake for three straight nights. I was also embarrassed. I remembered mother. Then I prayed weeping silently in remorse. Could I talk with mother now? But then, I still felt pain about the whole episode. Forty three years was a long time to hold pain and Mama had been dead for twenty years of that time. We had not talked for the first fifteen years after mama passed, the pain was too raw all that time. I had simply ignored all the silent promptings that explained it was in my best interest to hold mama in love.

The horror of one day in Time, being brought to face the chasm of lovelessness had forced me to get a firm grip of myself and I made the first tentative approach to talking. I had no idea where mother was now in the beyond, I had not even prepared her seat so she could sit with the ancients. So I had to call her with my thoughts and use my love to search for her through moonlit nights amongst the stars.
mother-and-daughter-668167_1280

It took a while, but finally mother responded one morning while I was in the bathroom. She simply stood in her thoughts watching me critically and then said simply, she had received the messages. I asked Mama how she was faring and gave her a critical look.
Mama looked …well….Mama had shed the toga of a ghost and looked young, in fact younger than how she was before she passed.
“So, you didn’t send me such messages just to wonder at my age do you?” Mama asked
“No, Why didn’t you give me any inkling of what you thought of Alex when I came to tell you about him” I blurted
“I did” Mama said and I could imagine she had raised her eyebrows as she always did when she thought I was asking a stupid question
“Mama, you never said what you thought was wrong with Alex, just asked that I should not get pregnant and said it was okay to agree to marry him and he promptly made me pregnant. Why didn’t you tell me about love Mama? About waiting and preparing for the Mr. Right and not living with a man out of wedlock”
“How could I tell you what I only sensed, your father wasted no time getting another woman when I did not birth a son for him, what did I understand about love too?”
“My daughter is sleeping with her boyfriend now and I don’t know what to tell her, I wish she would wait for him to come and ask for her hand properly, Alex never did for me. Three children later, I left him and live alone now. The moral standard is much lower than when I met Alex Mama and as a parent, I have tried letting my daughter know about decency, but she says she is getting on and must marry quickly or be left on the shelf”
“I see, so you want me to spook your daughter by appearing by her bed and tell her she is committing sin?”
I laughed outright, alone in the bathroom with the misty image of my mother. She still retained her sense of sarcasm and fun.

I wanted to ask her what I am not doing right about parenting, and why all I said to my daughter always sometimes ended in painful arguments and silent days of mutual hurt feelings.
I wanted to be a perfect parent, show out all I had missed why growing up and fill in the gaps.
“In short Olayemisi, you want to live your life all over again through your daughter. Interferring as usual with the threads of fate of your gift”
What?

I was alone in the bathroom and Mama had returned to history and left behind the lessons of love, prayer and patience.
Parents were never created perfect, that is why procreation was allowed, so we learn through each other and with each other.
Talk soon..