SharedThoughts

  Oh my tiny village home All I see are strange faces You hardly see anyone you use to know Everyone’s out in the city hustling  Children have grown at home Strangers have moved into our land Oh how I miss the good old days The rising bright sun  The bath we took under the cold winds of harmattan  The wet bushes of the woods The smell of mushrooms under the tree logs  The laughs we all made during midnight tales  Who knew how life would turned out The bad old days and the good new days

  The world was filled with gods with powers One by one  They fought and killed each other, Rain hell and brimstone all over the universe  Creating diverse worlds that cannot be express as wholly true or false because of the diversity in the world At the end, one god was left  The most powerful of them all The one god who tried to keep the gods from fighting and destroying themselves  The one good god amongst them all, engaged in the war he never wanted.  He conquered and banished other gods to become less of gods. And hid his world from the banished  And then he went ahead and hid each banished gods from each other And Earth is where some settled Started a whole new life Now there is mortality in their new generation  Memories of who they once were, totally wiped out  They can no longer live for ever They can no longer use a finger to lift a mountain They had to learn to do everything. How do you think we truly do not know the truth about cr...

  I remember sitting on that hillside field, My eyes filled with tears.  I could see the vehicles passing on high speed.  The thoughts of being free and being grown engulfed me. I hated it there, I was a prisoner. Oh the young shall grow, I groaned but for how long? How long shall l sit here and watch free people? How long shall I sit here and get fed bad beans? How long shall I have the courage to say no more? I just needed to wait. And I did. And look at me now. I’m grown and free. But freedom isn’t still free.

There is this other part of the #metoo movement we ignore which is very important. Same sex abuse especially among secondary school students. She woke me up at about past midnight when the night was as quiet as a cemetery. She took me to the back of St. Mary’s hotel, put me down on the varender and told me someone sent her to talk to me to come stay in her bed tonight. I already knew who she was talking about because the harassment has been on for a while. She made me understand I would sleep out on the varender till dawn if I do not cooperate. As a senior student(SS2) but powerless, I wasn’t naive either.  I told my tormentor (SS3), I would rather sleep on here than go in her bed. We stayed out there dragging words on my knees till she saw that the mission would truly be futile.

  I heard;   To call an Igbo person (omo Igbo) is derogatory. To call an Hausa person (aboki) is derogatory. Now if I tell you that I’m from Akwa Ibom state, and you ask if I know how to cook and take care of a man, what should I say then? Derogatory Derogatory Derogatory!!!      What’s your own your banter?

 I want to say a very big welcome to our visitors and writers. Shared Thoughts blog is an open platform to share all your thoughts. Do you have anyone you would like to speak to but you cannot speak directly to them? Come pour out your emotions here, banter and bicker here. Shared Thoughts, Known Thoughts. You are always welcome!!!