Archive for June, 2013


June 16, 2013


I love my Jewel

I am not the type that grew up in the world of romance novel. Mills and Boons weren’t my favourite authors, but that didn’t stop some hours of perusing their works. My area was more of adventure, detectives and the likes.

However, I had some few stinks with some romance writers, a portion from Harold Robin’s “The Way Love Goes” got stuck to my memory;

Love dies with words like those. It burns up and destroys itself in the language of hate and recrimination. It tears apart in anger and violence. But after a while, a vestige of it still remains, clinging to the mind and heart like an unfulfilled hope, a memory of a passion never came fruition, then, it finally dies with a simple almost childlike word.”

I read and memorized the lines, not because I could align my beliefs with them but because it was a necessary tool for my exploits. That is a story for another day. I was much more enthralled and captivated with the semantics than the whole picture that could be construed from those lines. As a young boy, I couldn’t understand why love was such much talked about; why people could get easily heartbroken; or how someone could possibly believe what others say. Romance novels meant nothing to me except for the admiration of well-constructed lines used to paint certain romantic moods. This got translated into my real life.

 From a mere admirer and side-watcher a major stakeholder and game player was birthed. This graduation was inevitable. The game was taken to the greatest height and on its trail were countless tales of woes, tears and broken hearts. All these, I never knew, to me it was just a game. You win some, you lose some. Who would have fathomed then that there were emotional involvements in what I deemed a game? Unfortunately, I never comprehended.

I could have been jolted back to reality when two grown up, beautiful and well-to-do ladies cried on my laps and begged just for my attention. Alas! I was too engrossed to see beyond my nose. The four-letter word “love” meant nothing to me. I could say “I love you” as many times as possible as long as it led to the parting of the legs to welcome my “you know what”.

The above probably summed up my stale life story, my romance history, before I met you. You materialized from nowhere. Like the lightning you appearance was sudden and unannounced. You were heralded into my world at the right moment, at the nick of time before the blunder of a lifetime was to be committed.

You make my life so beautiful. You have added a spark to it. I never thought I could melt when I hear “I love you”. These words coming from you mean so much to me. You have really opened my eyes to the new reality, the one I had no knowledge existed beyond the pages of romance novels and the world of imagination. That too is a story for another day.

The demands may be daunting and unplanned for, but I remain resolute in my resolution. I never asked for “a rose garden along with sunshine…” the rain and thorns are all parts of it. The test of fire makes fine steel.

I love you my Edimek, neither because of your beauty nor intelligence, but for what you have done to my world. You are the best not only because you make me the happiest man alive, but also for the bundle of joy you have brought into our lives. My ED, once again, I love you and I would not rest on my oars until I make all your dreams become real. I can’t promise you that you wouldn’t shed tears, but I can pledge that those would be tears of joy.




June 13, 2013


Of all the wonders that I yet have heard, it seems to me most strange that men should fear;
Seeing that death, a necessary end, will come when it will come”.- William Shakespeare.

If we should harbour no fear when it comes to death, what should we really be afraid of?

Come to think of it, we have just once to live this life. Why can’t we live it the way we like? Why do we allow others to dictate how we live to us? Why can’t posterity be our only guide as we transverse this maze?

I notice that only those who dare, get rewarded at the end. Failure to take risk, a certain Urhobo comedian once said, is a mechanism of poverty. “Men at some time are masters of their fates: The fault, dear , is not in our stars, but in ourselves, that we are underlings”-Shakespeare. Why then is it so difficult to break loose and throw the shackles that tend to incarcerate us into deep abyss that suits them?

I ramble about everything, I seem to know the solution of so many things, yet am a victim, a risk averter. I succumb to things that the mind abhors. I accept what is far below my perceived standard.

I really need help!!!