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PT3: Ko ko ko, what is in my Cupboard

“What is wrong with you” “Talk to us” The number of times  I was asked that question  In five minutes  Did no good. It jolted to life  Memories suppressed for years  As far back as 60 calendar months. The first distinct memory  Was my first night in Aunty’s house.  I remember waking up scared Because I was alone. And coughing  From the neighbor’s blue tiger generator exhaust seeping into the only window of the room. It’s no surprise I’d wake under such conditions It wasn’t the familiar, clean, crisp, cool air  And quiet night  I had grown accustomed to  From living most of my life in my mother’s town. It was different.  It was loud, hot, smoky and choking. What I thought was to be a night of visit  Became 365 nights  365 nights to 740 nights  740 nights to 1105 nights  And 8 visits from those who left me there in the first place. The second memory that came to me  Was the one that haunted me the most The secret in my cupboard. Ifedolapo
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Her name is Esther

  Her name is Esther  The star of stars She’s bronzed in elegance Enameled in grace.  Her strength is in her love  Her grit in her courage  Her wisdom of a sage  She’s a warrior  She’s an angel A peace bringer  A light and a bridge between worlds She’s a first world wonder In league with the most remarkable of creation The most resilient of flowers That draws the bees from yonder She’s the soft and tough  A gentle breeze and turbulent wind  She’s fire and ice  She’s the queen of hearts  Ifedolapo  

PT2: Stitch_Stitch_Stitch

  Being called the dumbest Meant I’d be payed more attention  From those whose attention I should retain  More attention ?  Not good.  Means less time in  Doldol dreams  And Lala land.  Henceforth  I shall be considered  As an organism for study.  Subjected to the lights  And powerful lens of a magnifying glass. Before long  At just times 2 power  They might just realize how broken I was  How will I survive such scrutiny?  How will they comprehend what they find ? All I see in doldol land now is  A giant threaded needle  All I hear in Lala land is  Stitch stitch stitch  Rending the carefully patched fabrics of my mind. What secret do these rends hold?  Ifedolapo 

PT1: Flunk, flunkier, flunkiest

  Dear reader ,  You’re welcome to my short story series for the year! The last short story series being “Iya Onome: My favorite hairdresser” highlights some of the struggles women face in our society. This short stories series I’m beginning will be no different, it will expose another of the issues faced by a group of people in our society. So, come along with me on this ride as I forge the stories and you piece the pieces.  Flunk , Flunkier , Flunkiest   I’ve always been the girl who moved schools.  How frequently?  5 schools in 5 years  That’s how frequently.  And I struggled with this Unbeknownst to the ones  Who should’ve payed more attention.  I think they struggled too  Their troubles blinding them from seeing beyond themselves.  So I’ve no blame towards them.  But I burrowed myself deep in myself  Till my audible voice became alien to me  Simply Lost.  Self preservation ?  My thoughts became my lasting partner and friend My place for comfort  And because I lived in my head  I b

For The Star Among Stars

  May you find your voice  May you give words to it May they be laced with wisdom  May you be heard  May you find your community  And your community finds you May you learn consistency  And growth not be far from you  May knowledge be your pal And excellence your running mate  May you be kind to yourself  And to those around you May you never lose sight of your wonder  And the world never seize to marvel at your wonder. For you’re the star among stars  One of a kind  And the world is up for the taking  If you’d have it.  Ifedolapo