Daughter: “Dad, I’m leaving. Bye now.”
Me: “Where are you going?”
Daughter: “Home. Have you forgotten?”
Me: “Forgotten what?”
Daughter: “Oh, dear. I’m a married woman now. I’m going home to join my husband.”
Me: Sigh
How easy it is to degenerate into a beast when you enter the jungle!
Yesterday I vowed to myself:
1. I will always calm down.
2. Though the okada bike riders are driving me crazy, and all the drivers are treating me like the road belongs to them only, I will refrain from calling anybody names like, “Were (lunatic), olori buruku ( crazy heads); eranko (beasts), etc.”
On my way to the Murtala Muhammed Airport.
Checking out, US bound.
We will find out what happens in Nigeria after elections this Saturday.
Nor be me dabaru 9ja
This young journalist called Sowore.
He reminds me of another journalist called Dele Giwa.
And another journalist called Ken Saro-Wiwa.
Do you know what happens to journalists like them?
Why would a bunch of French neocolons sit in broad daylight and discuss strategies to come to Africa to experiment with the Coronavirus vaccines on African bodies? (Many of you have seen the viral video, I believe, of these two French humanists dialoguing about going to Africa to experiment with the Coronavirus vaccine on Africans). They can do that dialogue on television with such unimaginable confidence because they know fully well that Africans and especially their leaders have lost the necessary spiritual rigor to resist invasion and abuse.
Becoming an Olorisa is no longer an option for the African: it is the most effective form of intellectual and spiritual resistance against neocolonial aggression.
What do you see?
‘I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now remove your corona masks and kiss.”
It must be so hard to be a dater now, with your libido on fire.
How are these young folks expected to cope now, in the era of corona?
Or are we now all reduced to just online dating, exchanging emojis and gifs?