BLACK ALBINO by Ada Thelma

Skin of colour,
Eyes that shame the pendulum's dance.
So they call you that paradox that was never destined to be understood.

Black albino;
Skin the colour of rich brown earth,
Eyes that move to and fro
Like demons on patrol.
They see your colour and wonder if it's paint.
They call you albino;colourless
And they put a black robe on it.

They say the eyes are the window of the soul
And maybe they've seen a dichotomy difficult to understand
Because they've decided to drink the sweet mead of ignorance.
So you smile and let them exist with volatile  understanding.
While you exist in a nature that defies natural

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Diary of a lazy writer 1

Sunday,  27th May, 2018.

Dear diary,

How are you?  I'm not fine.  Okay,  maybe I'm fine.  I don't know.  Happy Sunday by the way. I feel bad right now.😖  I know.  I know.🙄 You think I'm always feeling bad.  But that's not true.  Remember my laughing sprees? Lol.  You don't want to meet me there.  I literally roll on the floor in laughter.  Whatever sha.
So today went by like that. I can't say I achieved anything.  I washed some clothes and cooked jollof rice with those little pieces of stockfish my mum packed for me. I can proudly say I've mastered the art of preparing proper jollof rice.  Hehehehe. 😆😊😊
Diary,  I'm scared.  We were taught about relevance today in church.  Well,  that wasn't the topic but that's what I gleaned from the message. Every time,  I feel like I'm just one of the many people oxygen is being wasted on.  What have I given?   I've checked my facebook countless times today and people are just starting up stuff everywhere. Yes,  I know I shouldn't compare o but hmm...  I cannot be 'dulling' o.
Wait sef.  I feel lost.  Honestly,  I don't even know what to write anymore.  I haven't posted anything on the blog for days now.  I have three unfinished works on my table.  God help me!!!

There's nobody to complain to.  I've read about discipline and I've seen myself wearing the cloak so well. It's been a while since I last wore it sha. I can't find it. I think something came in through the back door and stole it from me.  Now I have to wear my old garment of laziness.  That same garment that makes me feel naked.  This is not me!

I'm smart.  I'm strong.  I'm sweet.  I'm your typical superwoman...  #tongue out.
I most certainly do not feel that way.
I've been thinking a lot lately.  Well,  all the time.  I need to get out of this place.  But it feels like my legs are broken.
How did I get here?
I have a line-up of contests to enter. I think the fuse in my brain is blown.  Somebody call the electrician!

I want to write.  I've been writing but I keep abandoning them.  I need a 'writinvention'.

And just like that.  I've wasted precious ink complaining.  Let me go and read my school books abeg.  I have a test on Thursday.
Wish me luck.

Yours in love,
Me.

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A Hundred Lessons by Ada Thelma Iyke

I've learnt the hard way.
I've learnt the simple things.
I've learnt that you do not gulp down hot tea,
That careful sips prevent singed tongues.
I've learnt that you do not carry a hot pot with your bare hands,
That such foolish boldness leaves you with scorched palms.

I've learnt.
I've learnt you do not mount a Bike with a straight-cut skirt.
I've learnt that such ventures leave you with a funny person; shame.
I've learnt that you do not soak bread in tea in public.
Because such careless comfort is akin to an abased public image.
I've learnt that you do not eat ewedu soup without water close by.
Because doing that is the same as squeezing your fathers ear when the door is locked.

I've learnt random things.
That you should not drink water after eating pineapple.
That you should not attempt to fry banana the same way you fry plantains.
I've learnt that you must bend down when eating cashew fruits.

I've learnt.
I've learnt the hard things too.
I've learnt that you do not put your trust in a man.
I've learnt that you should not attach extreme importance to any thing or anyone. Because moderation is bliss.
I've learnt that disappointment is inevitable,
That human emotions are fickle.
I've learnt that you do not cause tears of pain and regret stream down the face of your mother,
Because it is a painful sight.
I've learnt that two wrongs were never destined to make a right,
That it is like waiting to see fuel and fire cause rainfall.
I've learnt that nothing matters more than family and friends,
Because no matter how distant they become,
They'll pay their respects the day you die.

I've learnt that love is supreme,
That it is the creative force of the universe.
I've learnt.
I've learnt that simple things are the most beautiful.
I've learnt that family is wonderful.

I've learnt that food is good,
That music is paramount for identity and harmony.
I've learnt too that words are important.
So mull over these ones.,
Because everything begins as a word.
Whether it be ink on the walls of your heart,
Or sounds with meaning on your lips.
I've learnt that it is good to learn.
I've learnt that we are life's students.
We graduate when we die.
Have you learnt this?

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PANACEA by Ada Thelma Iyke

 Dear broken spirit,
 I bring you soft whispers and small kisses like a mother's touch to a bruised knee.
 As you lie crushed and downcast in solitude, I bring you words of comfort.
 I bring you oil to grease the rusted parts of your heart.
 I bring you ointments and bandages, salve for your wounds.
 Let my arms wrap you, leaving your pain engulfed by the poisonous elixir of love that pours out from my being; poisonous to the very pain that so nibbles at your essence. Let my shoulders be the pillow that gets soaked with your tears,
 never getting too wet to take more.
 Let my eyes be a beacon that emblazes your soul.

 Let my words relax the throbbing muscles of your mind.
 Let them, these words I speak, like water to a fire, quench the rage in your soul
So that the smoke rises with ash, ashes that settle and become fertilizers for other hurting souls.
 Let me be your panacea.


Like this?  Drop a comment.

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Small Victories 1 by Ada Thelma Iyke

I hadn't felt this good in ages. I felt as proud as the hunter in Mother's stories. My siblings were drunk with fury. This was the greatest gratification. Their eyes looked at me in disgust as my eyes closed in euphoria. Their hearts pounded fiercely shaming Mother's mortar and pestle. My masticating jaw silently declared me the winner. It was on days like these that I began to change my mind on how difficult life could be. "Who ate the big stockfish I put for you all?" Mother asked. Four pairs of eyes turned toward me. Their eyes hoisted my hands up as winner of the secret battle between us. There were not many conquests to my name, not many great feats. I wasn't like my elder sister who got a scholarship to study in Ghana. I wasn't like my elder brother who became a business guru even in the University. Thus, the few medals I had were important to me. This night, I ate the biggest stockfish Mother put for us. My siblings and I usually ate from one plate. Last week, I helped Aunty RoseMary get to the hospital when she was due for childbirth. Three days ago, I solely removed the weeds in Baba's farm. That night, grandma gave me two pieces of dried meat from the basket above the fireplace in the kitchen. Usually I would feel bad when Father would congratulate my siblings on how good they were in school. Well, I wasn't good in school. I refused to continue since my classmates started calling me Mr. Down. They said I was not normal but who has the right to declare one thing normal and another abnormal? Baba allowed me to be home schooled. Often, my siblings would laugh at me when I tried to speak and the words slurred out of my mouth. They never wanted to sleep on the same bed with me except our youngest sister who was my best friend. It wasn't my fault that I drooled a lot while sleeping. What about my sister who snored worse than the pigs in our neighbour's pig farm? One of my arms was a bit too rigid. It assumed an awkward position in front of my chest. There were many things I could not do. This made me content with the little I was giving back to life. These feats were small victories but I didn't mind. Because they were victories all the same. Because small victories matter the most.

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Directions

Hello there.

I reckon you've spoken to the receptionist. This is a new building and you may get lost. There are different rooms here. Some of them haven't been opened yet. These are the rooms. #Poetry #Fiction #Non-fiction #Hall of Fame #Guest #Gallery Please do well to come back to the lobby if you have any confusion. Other rooms may be made available subsequently. Keep your lenses on and your mind open. Learn. Enjoy.

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8 Days

On Monday, we said hello. That day, I wrote about the rain that drenched my new gown on my way to work and about a certain stranger that stood up in the bus for me to sit.
On Tuesday, we ran into each other again. That day,fate pushed you to the market and made me linger at that meat seller's stand where we said hello the 2nd time. That day, I wrote in my diary about how expensive meat was and how I couldn't buy enough carrots for the salad I wanted to make. That day, I gave you my number.
On Wednesday, I laughed at your dry jokes. That day, I wrote about life and the little things that make us happy. I told my diary about you and how dry your jokes were. That day, I thought about how we wore the same lenses in our outlooks on life.
 On Thursday, we went out for dinner. That day, I sat across the table from you and watched as you ate your Egusi soup and garri without spilling a drop on the table. That day, I told my diary that a man who can eat Egusi soup and garri with such carefulness must be a good shepherd. I thought you would make a good manager- Of my heart and a home.
 On Friday, my heart hypothetically fell down from my chest and got stuck in my jeans. Because you went on your knees. Because you put a silver ring on my finger. Because you promised to give me a life that diamond owners would envy.
 On Saturday, the priest announced "you may kiss the bride" That day, you released the passion you had kept prisoner for long. That day, my father knew I had found another husband, the real one. That day, I told my diary that I had found my compliment.
 On Sunday, we were late to church. That day, we held a mini Thanksgiving service in our room. That day, some angels were late to church because we hosted them in our room.
 On Monday, I woke up alone on my bed. It wasn't because you had left but because you hadn't come. That day, I told my diary about a dream that lasted for 8 days. "Must be prophecy" I said to myself. That day, a stranger said hello to me on the bus and I smiled to myself.

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Welcome! Come in.

Door opens...

The lobby is large and long. To your left are two coffee brown couches. Apart from that and the white walls and doors with polished handles, the lobby is quite... Empty. To your right is a counter with a petite lady who stands there smiling at you.

Odd

You walk slowly to the smiling lady and she bends down quickly. You can hear the sound of a cupboard or a drawer being ransacked.

"Welcome to Odd lenses sir/ma'am"

She hands you a pair of glasses.

"Put them on and keep them on while here" 

She says and begins smiling again at the entrance.

You put them on with a little difficulty. You have to drop your suitcase to adjust it on your face.
Before your hands leave the sides of your head, your eyes widen, a gasp escaps from your mouth. Your brain already knows that you will never stop coming here.

Another lady that looks just like the receptionist but obviously older walks up to you with long braids and big glasses. She smiles too.

"What do you see, dearest?"

Words! They've failed you again. You quickly push out the available ones.

I... I... I see.

* * * * *

Helloooo.
Welcome to Odd Lenses. My name is Thelma and I will be your guide to spiritual bliss on this journey. Just kidding.
Welcome to all things art and truth. Me, myself and I will keep you informed, corrected and entertained. Just keep your lenses on while here.
Oh and Uhh..  Thanks for coming in.  Enjoy.

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