Pieces of me 5


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Oh! A Butterfly…


A skill acquired would come in handy.

An education gained, a key to one’s future.

If I learn more,

Then perhaps I can…

Oh! A butterfly…


Put that in a bucket.

Make a list.

We prepare for a feast today.

No mean feat it was when we…

Oh! A butterfly…


Alone and hungry,

Tired… yes, exhausted.

But was it not I who…

That time when…

Oh! A butterfly…


The days of men are few,

And fraught with peril,

One who courts far too often with distractions?

Would scarcely amount to naught…

Yes oh! A butterfly…



Sometimes we allow ourselves get side tracked, despite our best intentions for us. Yes, pardon me… that is just me and my sometimes rather convoluted logic. What I meant to say was, we plan and prepare for our future and our goals (some more so than others) but even the best of us at times, allow ourselves get distracted. We lose ourselves to the flimsy things that can not contribute to our growth. We each have our butterflies and they could be bad habits/vises, procrastination, self doubt, rejection and all that.

Learn to identify your butterfly moments and try not to hang on to them. They stunt out growth and we only have so long to live. Let’s make the most of it.

Hotel Girl

Read this story and I guarantee you’ll love it. Follow this blogger for more good reads.

Pint Size Fiction

I see her reading an article on her laptop titled, ’20 Teeny Baby Animals You’ll Want To Put In Your Pocket.’

The more tiny animals she sees, the wider she smiles: tiny sea lion, tiny sloth, tiny lamb, tiny meerkat, and so on.

“Looks like you have something in common with them.” I put my arms around Cassandra from behind.

She smiles, “Go back to bed. You shouldn’t be up so early.”

“Actually I’m still in bed.”

We’re in a hotel room. The bed is near the desk. She’s sitting on a chair in front of the desk and my arms are around her as I’m sitting on the bed.

She starts reading another article, ’15 Tiny Presents You Can Give Someone to Make Their Day for No Reason.’ Here’s some of them: wireless panda speaker, pineapple shot glasses, and matchbook manicure (tiny nail files inside a matchbook).

“Hey, I…

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Pieces of me 4


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Of Things That Go Bump In The Night.


Through the haze,

That fog that is won’t to come,

When called forth, just as when it will,

Through the looking glass,

The door as it were,

Into the other side…


I see her, the woman,

Seated on the ground,

The dirt floor as it were,

Clothes in tatters, hair in disarray,

Bruises fresh, blood mingled with tears,

Battered, pleading, bargaining…but no!


He towers above her,

Fire and thunder in his eyes,

He is deafened by the roar of his will,

His fists call for blood…

No more! It would have her…

Only her death would sate his fists.


Temperature rising…I am hoarse from screaming.

I look away from the vision…

Who can help me? I can hear her screams…

Alas! I am immobile.

Try as I might, I can only look on,

There is no help to be had…


A blow to the head,

Some kicks to the ribs,

Crouched…some well measured punches to her eyes,

Both bloodied by now…

I scream in silence, I curse and spit…

She on the other side has gone lifeless.


Is she dead or alive I wonder?


This woman…this blessed woman…

This woman seated right at my side…

Our hands clasped together,

Salty rivulets flowing anew,

Having both visited the visions through the looking glass,

And come through with our humanity intact.


Written a day ago while convalescing, when one’s guard is down and thoughts of doom and gloom are bound to float around. Thinking on conversations had in confidence with an acquaintance and wondering, just how many others are in this self same predicament?

To all who suffer, have suffered or have borne witness…be strong. Find strength, get out, get counseling and be stronger. You are not alone. God will heal and comfort you. I say again, be strong. You are beautiful in every single way, inside and out.


Pieces of me 3


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He has me in palpitations.
My heart!
It jumps for joy at the thought of him.
At the sight of him,
It becomes a puddle of warm ecstatic goo.

The caress of a cool breeze…
The makings of love…
Forged in the most enduring of all…
And when he deigns to speak…
It becomes as tho I am floating in the clouds.

Like a school girl,
Experiencing love for the first time,
I thumb our correspondence…
Every chance I get.
The sweetness!

Wrapped around his little finger,
How could any man,
Invite a heady rush of flutters…
This much warmth…
Love… Always.

He has blessed me I find,
With a perpetual state of happiness…
A smile on my face even at the oddest of times…
And I think to myself,
I must  look the happy fool to all else.

Love faithful…
Love true…
Love enduring…
This love, our love…
Never to be compared to fools gold.

Princess Onome.

When you love someone…not just love, but are in love with this person who loves you in return, its the best feeling ever. Shared hopes, shared dreams and the promise of a friend for always… He is most handsome and incredibly intelligent. This I wrote for the one man (not quite a man yet) in my life who makes me feel like love makes all possible. My baby cousin Chimadigiemejom Wogu, the cutest baby boy ever. I love you sweetie, now and always. I can hardly wait to have mine. Well…future husband, hurry up and find me already, been waiting on you. *wink! *kisses.

Pieces of me 2


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They were there…
They were there at eventide.
Snarls on their faces…
Daggers drawn…
Demanding retribution for one of their own…
They were there.

In my minds eye…
I remember saying,
My friendship you can have…
My ears you may consort with;
As my lips will keep your confidence.
My mind you may occupy but my heart?

My heart is not on the table.
For I have long since tired of it,
Being moved around same as a chess piece.
I have recently tasted freedom;
True freedom though it be laced with vinegar,
Freedom nonetheless.

My heart is mine to have,
To hold and mine to give.
I simply wish for to give it aright,
The next time it is given
And not to see it crushed by an ego,
Bloated with some overestimated sense of self worth.

Therefore, to them I say,
Hold your court, seek counsel one of another.
For in that will I find vindication.
In that will it be made clear my stand.
The stand I declared at the start; as I had no wish to rescind.
My stand since the crack of dawn.

Princess Onome.

Written 3days ago as I lay in bed sometime around 11: 46pm GMT thinking on everything and anything.

Pieces of me


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image They say poems are begotten from inspirations… The Viktor and Rolf Spring 2015 Couture collection provides me with a canvas for my writing. This is my first poem after a 5+years break…i’m happy to write again. It’s sad that I stopped writing because I always ended up leaving pieces of me in my writings. I still do but what makes it sad is that I was in an emotionally bad place and writing poems became a rather sad experience for me. It’s sweet how happy thoughts are gradually helping me come out from my shell again. I wear my heart on my sleeves and it doesn’t matter to me. I wrote this a few hours ago today and I’m happy to write again.

Foodie Like Me


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Like the average person, I love food. I don’t like to cook but I enjoy the process each time I do. Its so much fun cooking. I love the alchemy of food, the colours, the flavors, the textures…so, I am very experimental with food. I mix and match.

Here, i have moi-moi or bean cake…a Nigerian dish and fruit/veggie salad, strawberry flavoured fruit jello and a yummy cocktail. The moi-moi (bean cake) has bits of fish, mushroom, meat and prawn in it. Its spicy and absolutely flavourful. The salad dressed with a sweet French dressing, cools down the “spiciness” of the bean cake and adds crunch to it.

Moi-moi, the way I make it at least, is bean paste mixed with tomato sauce and stir fried onions, pepper, fish, meat, prawn, mushrooms or any other filling which is then seasoned to taste. This tasty mix is scooped into plastic cups, foil plates or broad leaves…which i have no idea how to use, and steamed for an hour and a half. Voilà!

Foodie Like Me


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Like the average person, I love food. I don’t like to cook but I enjoy the process each time I do. Its so much fun cooking. I love the alchemy of food, the colours, the flavors, the textures…so, I am very experimental with food. I mix and match.
Here, i have moi-moi (bean cake)…which is a Nigerian dish and fruit/veggie salad, strawberry flavoured fruit jello and a yummy cocktail.

Meet Maggie. She makes her own clothes.

Little Stories

During my recent foray into wardrobe minimalism and a general engagement on the philosophy of what to wear and where to find it, I’ve been thinking a lot about buying well-made clothes. And well made in two senses: made with a high degree quality and made in an ethical and socially responsible way. I’d love to jump off the fast fashion train entirely, but let me tell you, it is hard to find affordable, ethically made garments. If you get tired of searching, you could be like my friend Maggie, who just makes her own clothes.

Yes! She makes her own clothes. Even though I was homeschooled, I cannot even imagine attempting the same. But I find her endeavor so inspiring, and I wanted to sit down with her and talk about her lifestyle of dressing herself in handmade garments.

Interview with Maggie Stein, Who Makes Her Own…

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