Afrosays to me

…random excerpts from my communions with the AfroMuse

The walk home February 9, 2011

Filed under: Scenic — afrosays @ 6:29 pm
Tags: , ,


We’re unpacking her baggage while she’s reclining at the backyard porch, sipping a glass of imported red and commanding away. She sent me something to broadcast just last week and I’m still not sure how I’m going to explain to her that I mistakenly deleted it and there is no undo button on my BlackBerry.

As I gently open the front-door, trying to escape the hard work of helping the witch unravel the bagged shopping mall she had brought with her, a missile hits me on the back of my head. My first errand!

Mixed feelings as I hit the gong in defeat. New tunes, only because Afrosays:


The Proud Devil

I instinctively stopped and took two steps back, leaning back into an impossible, ugly posture to inspect whatever seemed to have caught my attention in the first place.
It was just another hole in just another miserable fence. I walk past exactly twenty-one of these lizard homes everyday on my way back home from the market place. This was the nineteenth hole. I didn’t have to count, I just knew. For a few seconds, in the same absurd position, I stared at the spectacle before me.
The sudden pain in my lower back reminded me that there was a heavy basket of yams on my head so I slowly tried to ease into a better posture. I couldn’t move too fast, hell! I didn’t even want to move at all for fear that I might somehow upset the situation before me. I eventually chose to ignore the discomfort.
Why would the gods play such an evil trick on a poor man? The lizard turned to look at me briefly, as if to mock my inferior status and proudly returned his large orange head to its former position. I cursed him from the depths of my heart. He turned to me again as if to dare me, to tease me, to ask me who held a folded one-thousand Naira note in his mouth. My heart skipped a beat because I knew that it wasn’t me. Agama then moved a centimeter back into his palace, threatening. The cursing stopped.
I stayed like that for a while, back hurting, knees shaking, hoping Agama would be kind enough to feed me for one week; hoping that somehow he would let the beautiful paper note fall to the floor. Maybe he would buy me a new sunday shirt, maybe he would help me pay the rent. There were a lot of things Agama could do for me but he eventually decided he would rather add cushion to his nest. He took his time, majestically maneuvering his demonic body back into the grotesque hole. I swore revenge.
I dropped my basket of yams and straightened up. My back was a bed of pain. I quickly sat down on the floor, right under the hole and soon began to reminisce of the few times in my life I had actually spent a thousand, trying to remember if there was any time it hadn’t been an errand. It wasn’t too long and I felt something drop on my head. After I saw what it was, I began to fume with anger. Agama had decided that half a thousand Naira note was enough to make him comfortable and he had sent me the other shredded half. I stood up immediately.
I got home in record time, picked up my almost empty tin of kerosene and headed towards the house of that miserly creature.
I would go hungry tonight – the aroma of roasted lizard would suffice.

Christmas with you December 15, 2010

Filed under: Scenic — afrosays @ 3:54 pm
Tags: , ,

I had to make out sometime to listen to the goddess. I’ve not exactly been the best Towncrier, with my chronic absenteeism and my bad habit of leaving messages undelivered. The AfroMuse always pays in kind; She’s been ignoring me as well and our relationship seems to be heading south.

For those who care about my personal life, my time thief, it’s all on

For those who couldn’t care less, what’s important is that mild ennui is not total abandonment, I swear, baba is still on point!

I’ve still got some fantasy material I’m too tongue tied to deliver so I’m practicing like I did with the Olu-Aye classic. I’m even working on the sequel to that too, but good stuff takes time.

But #JustSoYouKnow, today’s delivery is one that’s very much in resonance with my dark blue inner vibes. I deliver it, thinking about everyone spending this holiday season without someone they used to spend it with, from the orphan that’s joining my family for Christmas to my friends who are just getting used to spending family holidays, less one loved one.

I deliver it to myself and every other person who find it hard to smile every time because they hear the world anytime it ticks wrong, which is a lot of times.

I shall beat my gong, with a gourd of local brew on my belt, sharing a message of strong spirit and calm mind, sharing liquid spirits as well, wishing my people a decent holiday because AfroSays:

Merry Christmas?

I don’t know where I am. I don’t know what to do. How can I? I’m only seven years old.
I just woke up and everywhere is dark, there is nobody around and I don’t know my way home but I know what has happened.
Mama, you have left me just like daddy did. Only this time, you left me in the house of a stranger.
I know we’ve been suffering, I know there has been no food to eat but I have never complained.
I know I am supposed to sell firewood from house to house tomorrow even though it’s christmas day; I know you are going to cry on my shoulder when I get back like you always do and I’m going to cry too, but remember that I have promised you that when I grow up, I will make sure you never cry again.
I remember last month when the teacher sent me back from school because we didn’t have enough money to pay the fees. I remember that you started crying again. I told you not to worry, that God will take care of us.
I thought you believed me when you wiped your tears and told me things would be better soon. I know the past few weeks were really hard but you didn’t stop saying that.
I was really excited when this morning, you packed my few clothes and told me that we were traveling to Lagos, now I remember that you didn’t pack yours.
I wasn’t sure why you were sad when you helped me plait my hair as I sat on your lap in the bus, just like you always do before every new week of school. I asked you what was wrong and you told me it was nothing.
You looked more unhappy as we got closer to this place, you looked like something really bad was about to happen but I had to trust you ma, you told me to.
And then, we got to this place and everywhere looked like heaven and you almost started crying. You didn’t even touch me again, you told me to sit down on the floor, far away from you, while you talked with that fat woman.
I guess you didn’t know but I saw you collect a lot of money from her when you thought I wasn’t looking
I thought you told me everything would be alright? I thought you said you’d never leave me alone, no matter what happened?
You told me to go with the fat woman, you told me to wait for you, that you’d be back soon.
I waited till I slept mama, you didn’t come back. Today, it is christmas morning and you’re not yet back. I know you’re not coming back.
I’m crying because there is no way I can tell you this mama, but it’s true: I don’t want to spend christmas in heaven, mama, I’d rather spend it with you.

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