Yard Girl

When Papa was alive he kept all four of his daughters under his watchful eagle eyes. Of all his daughters, he referred to me as the bomb which was bound to go off at any moment. I was a bit fiesty I wanted to do the things my brothers did for him and even more, wash the car, fix the generator. Chiebuka my older brother would run off to Papa and announce to him that I had once again climbed up the udara tree in front of our compound, papa would run outside scream my name and call mama , immediately I got down from the tree, abuses, blows and slaps were showered on me. My name is Obiageli. I really hated my name even though my friends said my name would attract the right man for me -She who has come to enjoy- I'm sure papa had that in mind when he arranged for Nduka, the secondary school teacher to marry me. Papa was aghast when I said I wouldn't marry Nduka, "Why? he asked, Nduka is successful, he earns good money as a teacher and he is a noble man, what else coul

I sat on my bathroom floor, crying. I had fallen in and out of love for the fifth time this year. Maybe I was cursed o! Just look at! First it was David, he was the perfect gentleman or so I thought, we had gone on countless dates, half of the campus knew him and I was super excited to "be" with him. I never really knew what intrigued me more, being with a public figure or the fact that he was ridiculously handsome. My dear obviously I was leaving in a fool's paradise and I was the last to find out. I was at the salon, seated on a torn sofa waiting to have my hair braided. Seated next to me was a pretty girl, she had the perfect figure, hour-glass, tapered coca cola shape, I almost felt insignificant at a point tho with my skinny legs and Lekpa self but I snapped out of it and continued reading a book on Wattpad. Aunty Coca cola shape was so nosy she literally was reading the book with me and focused more when I would swipe down my notifications bar and replied

My joy!. Was what mum called me. I never really knew the meaning of those words, but with the way mum would smile when she called me that, those words became my happy words. Mom detected the symptoms when I was 6. I had already been rejected by several schools. I was unable to communicate with my teachers, I preferred playing alone, I couldn't concentrate in class, couldn't maintain steady eye contact, couldn't hold a pencil. At first she taught I was really slow growing up but that was not it. I was born Autistic. When Mom found out about it, she told Dad, who was away as usual, on one business trip or the other, I couldn't tell what they had told each other, -she spoke in a hushed tone- but I saw mum cry, I never wanted to see mum cry, it made me over-hyper watching her cry. The following weeks saw us attending meetings with different doctors, mum wanted to learn more about "how special I was" (so she said), we visited schools, mum explained to m

"Ruky! Wake up, it's time to get ready". I was excited, I rode on a cloud to the bathroom, in a few minutes I was ready. Dad gave me a Bible, a daily devotional, some money and " a word of advice". I could swear I saw tears welling up in his eyes. I got in the passenger seat , mom in the driver's seat, said a word of prayer, I crossed myself, off we were to Bayelsa state. That was my first time going somewhere, that was not Benin, again I was excited. It was a long long drive, being the first time, I almost fell asleep but I had to remind myself that this was my first day of being a "big girl" and couldn't afford to miss a moment of this, of course mom was there with a constant reminder of me to master the routes to my school. We arrived Yenegoa, exactly 1pm -I should remember- mom asked directions and she was directed to follow one of the buses at Tombia which with their now-familar tone sang "Amassoma NDU, twele twele we dey

Seasons Greeting. It is the most beautiful season of the year, growing up Nigerian the climax of Christmas for me was wearing new fancy dresses, seeing family members after months of being away, all the love and joy. Christmasss! This year things changed a bit, I didn't get new clothes lol, my younger sisters on the other hand enjoyed the bliss of Christmas (new clothes, shoes, all that razz) the surprising part of it was how indifferent I was about getting something new for Christmas, if this was 5 years ago, all hell would have let loose, how would I have faced my friends, whilst wearing something not new? but change is the most constant thing in life, I've evolved. Note: this does not mean I will not accept a late Christmas present😁😂. So, on Christmas eve it dawned on me that Christmas day for me would not be normal. Hehehe. A magical middle ear infection got me (relax, it's nothing serious, it was caused by cold or a respiratory problem,I'll explain furth

I was always bothered about my eyes. (I'm cross-eyed BTW). Yes, I used to be ashamed of my eyes, there were times when I'd ask God why I had such "crazy eyes". Like I said. I was bothered, but not anymore. Being born with 'Boss eyes' wasn't easy, especially as a child, I had to struggle to keep steady eye contact with my classmates, some called me "witch" 😂 (nay!! like I care now) but back then those words hurt so much. I remember crying to mum and asked "mummy why are my eyes like this?" That was the same question everyone asked me "were you born with your eyes like this?" Mum replied my question "Sweetheart! Your eyes are pretty" I didn't believe her, at a point I hated my parents for choosing to bring me into the world with the most crazy pair of eyes. I continued with life, the same questions were still asked. Secondary school was worse, I stopped using my medicated glasses for awkward  reasons(d

        I've done alot of things in my life, but what happened that Christmas Eve was all on the Devil. It was December 24th 2006, I remember quite vividly, Harmattan was tearing up the little flesh I had on me, stubborn me, refused to wear a shirt "Hard guy, Hard guy!", With my then over-flowing tap of a navel, I looked like a homeless child, I didn't care. I was with Grandma, I could do whatever I wanted and would get away with it. I went to the neighbor's house in search of Osaretin. We were so excited, Christmas was the next day, y'all know what that meant na, especially for 8 year olds, it sure meant alot to us.        Now Osaretin and I had gathered up some money for knockouts (bangers) and disco lights just for the fun of it, the greatest obstacle was convincing my big sister to show us where we could get the quality stuff. We begged and begged, I even battered my Christmas meat in exchange for this information. Las las, hanty didn't even know

DETTY DECEMBER!!!! Three weeks ago "Detty December" began to trend, at first I wondered ' ahan! What is this one again', till a friend said it was a new Nigerian slang to emphasize the level of flexing that was associated with the end of the year. Piggy banks will be broken, prices of foodstuffs, clothes will increase,but the december will still be Detty. In all your dettiness, think about January and the following months.😀 How is your December going? Is it Detty already? What is your definition of detty December? My honest definition of detty December is quality time with my family, my friends and there's me making plans to meet people and sadly never leaving my house😂 Oh oh! It's also funny how people have placed value so much on the 25th and 26th December that you'd think the remaining days of the month are rubbish. Oh well... Ciao Adios! Happy Detty December.

"Why don't you like Uncle Hakeem? " "I don't know, I lowered my voice to a whisper. When I was going through his phone yesterday, I saw pornography and in one of them, there was a young girl, about 12 , Pere! She was my age... "Shut up! So you still haven't stopped this habit of yours of checking people's phone with permission eh? and how did you know it was pornography ehen? Do you even know the meaning of pornography? Pere glared at me and went to help mama in the kitchen. Back to Uncle Hakeem's first day as my home lesson tutor. I'd secretly prayed he wouldn't show up or his first son fell from a tree and broke his big head. Something, anything. Mum said she was heading out and would be back soon. "Open the door, only for Hakeem, when he comes, don't let him touch you o" I wanted to ask her exactly what she meant by "Touch" but she'd already left. Hakeem arrived and went straight to business, dad sa