Read My Mind… Now.

My journey with self expression

The Heartbreak of a Lifetime

Heartbreak might be killing me. 

You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. you make me happy when skies are grey….🎼🎼

Well, my sunshine is gone, the skies are grey and my happiness? 

Did you know that hysterical crying can induce asthma? 
Heartbreak might be killing me… literally 

I’m worried I won’t find another like you. Someone that’ll get me like you do. 

Who’s dreams will intertwine with mine, who’s ambition will match mine. 

One that will catch my sarcasm and dark humor, melancholic yet so full of life. 

I’m a little worried there won’t be another you.

Knock the breath out of me on a random Tuesday because you remembered I hate sweet food and ordered the right wings. 

Blow me away on a random Thursday by surprising me with shawarma because I haven’t been eating properly and I’m too anxious about life. 

Tell me to stop asking “where am I going?” And “why is this happening?” And just live.

I’m worried you’ve taken me away and I’m not available to anyone else. 

I’m worried you are the standard that no one else will meet. 
Every morning, I hope it was a nightmare. 

I generally descend into tears once I realize that being awake is the nightmare because it was only in my dreams that I had my sunshine.

My dreams of a life so full and perfect. Harmoniously haphazard with moments of beauty. 

Were you even real? Did you actually exist? Did we really happen?

Don’t wake me up. 
Let me sleep. 

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My body is not your entitlement

Honestly, this living in Nigeria wahala get as e be. 
I read this morning about some high school boys chasing down and raping high school girls because they finished their final exams. ???????

I’ll insert pictures of the story at the end of this post but my heart broke. 

The topic of sexual assault is very touchy with me and honestly, I couldn’t breathe for a while. 

These boys saw the girls as objects, felt entitled to their bodies and decided to take.

They made it a sport to be watched and cheered for by passers by who stood, recording on their phones doing nothing to help these girls. 

Not only are they rapists, 

They are murderers- killing the spirits of young women 

They are thieves- stealing the potential, the happiness, the destiny of young women 

And these young girls will go on to be care takers of children at some point in their lives 

And some of them will rape and molest other children 

And the cycle will continue. 

How will these rapists/murderers/thieves be caught?

How many will be caught? 

What will happen if they are caught? 

We, as a society, will bury it. 

No consequences. 

This is what we teach the male child.
For these young girls, there is no hope. 

All they do is pray and hide. 
Fear of stigma 

Fear of confrontation 

Fear of man 

I often want to just run around yelling “MY BODY IS NOT YOUR ENTITLEMENT”

“I AM A PERSON TOO”

“I WAS NOT CREATED FOR YOUR PLEASURE, YOUR OWNERSHIP OR POSSESSION”

And when all the yelling gets me nothing in this society, I just want to beg: 

“DO NOT TAKE MY DIGNITY SIMPLY BECAUSE YOU CAN” please. 







There goes the boat…

Mahn.. this was written a year ago today. I was in a very very dark place and from time to time revisit but Im no longer resident there. This post might help someone though, so here goes nothing…

I missed the boat.My original idea, the reason I moved home, did not come to fruition under my watch and attempt. I got discouraged.

It was too capital intensive, I couldn’t find the skilled labor, bringing the machines was a feat, blah blah blah. Excuses.

They weren’t excuses when I quit though. They were reasons. At least to me. But guess what has happened. The country is now in dire need of the idea I had set out to create. And every Bola, Tope and Grace is now trying to implement. And I feel like I missed the boat.

By now I would’ve had the advantage. I would’ve been ahead. I would’ve been the go-to. I would’ve been solving the problem. I feel like I walked away from the opportunity of a lifetime.

They say you shouldn’t cry over spilt milk. Don’t think about the “should’ve, would’ve could’ve”. Look forward. Look up. But it’s hard. It’s hard because I keep imagining how different things could’ve  been. And it feels like I’m drowning.

It’s a sorrowful time in my heart guys. And there’s no one to blame but me.

How do I pick up? How do I just get back in the game?

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