Writers Crib

When I was very much younger, I had this habit of wanting to be sick, not only was it a hobby, it was a joyous thing.😃 In my house then, there was one thing peculiar to falling sick, falling sick meant you would finish a whole bottle of malt and a full tin of three crown milk, only you! 😊 To achieve my mischievous act, mummy's hand dryer always came in handy, all I had to do was wait for NEPA, plug and heat myself up. I would feel my temperature with my hands and nod in satisfaction, it was hot enough to be mistaken for fever.😏 "Mummy ayam sick, see my temperature is very high." I usually let mummy feel my head, i let her feel it twice, at least for her to know I wasn't joking.😝 "Chukwudi, come and buy malt and milk for your sister..." Then the other medications would follow. My mischief was always a success, so it became a regular affair, every two weeks I was running a temperature, and for every temperature, malt and three crown

Humans; we tremble at almost everything, ranging from a common housefly to a crawling cockroach, from kitchen rats to a wall gecko, yes, we tremble at the sight of a spider, tremble when we hear the hooting of an owl, tremble when there's a whirl wind, tremble when it suddenly begins to rain... We tremble at the sound of our own heart beats, at the sight of our shadow, we still tremble. Sometimes we get scared of the things we shouldn't place too much concern on. So today, let's discuss, tell me what you're afraid of. Growing up. I was scared of me. I was scared of expressing myself, scared of doing the things that made me happy, the things my heart so much wanted. I was scared of the advice's I gave but yet won't take none of it for myself. I was scared of the unpredictable things the Me in Me could do. On a scale of 1-10, the fear that lived in me was 8/10. The fear in me gained more weight than my dreams and aspirations. So I thought to m

Monday 11:00am Growing up, I had the opportunity of watching young boys play local football, you know, the normal stone goal post and khaki ball. I would seat at the pavement of the customs officers big yellow house, just there watching my brother play football with the other children in the area. The next thing you will hear is eye-ball, eyeball, eyeball! What's that? So with time I got to understand what eyeball meant. If the ball went a little too high above the ground through the goal post, it is not considered a goal but considered eyeball! Eyeball always caused problems, it always made the boys fight. It is eyeball. It is not eyeball. Are you mad?, don't you have eyes?. It is you that is mad, it is you that don't have eyes. Somto sheybi you see the ball, see na, e pass like this, like this o, and this mumu is saying is eyeball. Then one punch will just fly from somewhere and hit somebody. Who is mumu? Is like you're mad abi?. And the person who has