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From the Talker's Pen

Proud to be Incorruptible

 The beauty of being a woman comes in various shades. It is the pride of being ‘unbewitchable’ unlike the male gender. For a woman can never be conquered by juju or black magic, only a man can. Only a man can be bewitched to lose his senses and become ‘snatchable’ by another women who disconnects him from his wife.  This in turn births another strength of a woman, a woman can break such ‘bewitching’ locks through prayer! Glory! Yes! Only a woman can pray her spouse out of infidelity for men are a breed immune to the gift of prayer. So when a woman is unfaithful, society knows, society can tell, a man is not expected to pray his wife back to her marriage for two reasons. One, she cannot be bewitched by another man for she is immune to juju and two, men cannot pray. The absence of the ‘bewitchableness’ of a woman is sometimes called into question particularly at burials of husbands. Yes, we try to make exceptions for women. Only widows can kill their husbands to inherit their property, b
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Daydreams

Daydreaming. My only hobby. What else could a girl do, living in an area that was constantly being lit up in flames with blood splatters from dead victims serving as manure to farmlands that would never be cultivated by its owners. There was nothing fun. Having friends were a waste of social skills. A friend could die in the next raid or get lost while fleeing the village. The sound of anything permanent was dreaded here, except marriage and mine was in two days.  When you are poor, you don't really plan an extravagant ceremony. Both families had concluded that it was going to be an in-house affair and the bride price was moderate. For my parents, the marriage was a means to get their daughter out of the village to the city where my groom lived, out of danger.  So, on the morning of my wedding, when the groom's family arrived. Everyone was excited. We peeped out the window and saw their cars, although this time they were more than usual. Usually, they would come in buses, three

Miss Doing the Most

"So what makes you happy?" I asked Don. "Oh well, good food, " He replied. I smiled casually, but deep down, I added that to the list of points I needed to add to my skillset. I had been casually asking him what he liked and didn't like so I could know what I needed to pretend to be, in order to keep this one. Yes, keep this one. A man is a purse, meant to be kept! No juju, no big bumbum, no yellow girl was going to take this one from me. Big bum, check! I got it. Although six months ago, I didn't. I had spent a loan I took from my uncle which was made for a supposed new business venture (I lied) on getting my bumbum increased in size. Although it hurts sometimes when I sit for long, I didn't care. Anyway, back to base! Don had mentioned he liked good food, ladies who wore revealing outfits, ladies who barely eat, he didn't like the idea of a woman eating too much food, he wanted them classy he had said. So, tonight I made a conscious effort t

PAYBACK

You tortured me for nights, unending. You ruined my days, unending. The very moments I placed my head on the pillow to sleep, you began your unending cries. Who was haunting you, I never knew. Who or what were you crying for? I never knew. All I remember is your cry at 3 am sounding loud in the compound. All I remember is my anguish and pain, being unable to sleep after long hours, coming home from work, only to work more and meet deadlines. They said that you cried, because you had to, I never bought that. Because of you, I fantasised about murder, in anger. I knew I had to be swift. I had to calculate every move. First on the list. Knives. I knew I needed sharper ones. My knives were barely capable of slicing onions well. I needed sharper ones to slit a throat. Second on the list. Nothing. Actually, all I needed to rid my nights of sleeplessness was a knife or two. Sharp enough to kill. ... So here we are. Angie. My neighbour's beloved. Helpless you are. Lifeless soon to

LOVE IN A HOPELESS PLACE

You know you've been through this before. You know searching for comfort, a place to relieve yourself should take time, so you can fully 'rest' when you find that place. You know you should look for a good spot and not just some random 'place' without privacy. You know all these, but you're running out of time. Your patience is thinning and your mind is running wild. You run to a place for comfort, it's not secure. Then to another place, not secure. Then ahead, and ahead, till you finally find somewhere you can be you. You look out for signs of danger, you see none. It's been a long time of binge eating on junk and now it's time to let it all out.  You pull your trousers down and release the big lump of shit into the Bush. You let out an orgasmic 'ahhhhhhh' and your waist thunders in relief. Some people find love in hopeless places, like friend zoned besties but people like us that eat everything we see? We find love in the nea

HOW MUCH LAST?

Location: Musa Slaughter, Agbor, Delta State. Woman 1: How much last? (flips meat over) Seller: cow head cost well well. Just buy ordinary meat, take this one for 5000. (A conversation between a meat seller and a buyer. Beef is one of the most common meat types in Nigeria. Maybe not expensive when it is cut up in chunks but believe me, it is worth a lot, whole) So how did we get here? The food chain places humans above cows. We eat the cows, we shit them. Our shit sometimes finds it way to the bushes, the grasses, the vegetation, and another cow eats the grass. They eat nothing special, nothing extra spiced and prepared with love, we do. So how did we get here? A whole cow costs about 60,000 to 150,000 naira depending on size. How much am I worth? If I was placed on a table, for sale, how much would you buy me? Probably for nothing! Because that is what the human life is worth in Nigeria, in Plateau at least. Plateau state is at war, a war it never consented to. Do you know wh

this is how you heal

This is how you heal, .....    you drink, the froth, ... inhale, the confusion This is how I healed, When my lover ...... Left me ... I drank, the froth, the dregs, the flies and their wings. I drunked on a debt Of happiness. This is how you heal when your lover leaves you, ... You never  Especially when you loved them and they tissued you, When the flame was low.