Writers Crib

That part of everyone... (Emotions) In my humble opinion, I think everyone has a soft part in them. A part they do not want the world to know about (just because they feel it signifies weakness) a soft part that they are over protective of, cos somehow, someway, they try to hide their weakness from the world and put up a strong face like a Biafran fighter. Well, I do not blame such people, I do not blame myself either. I am an emotional person too, I hate to admit it, but its true, I react to everything, on another note things get to me easily, what you say to me, how you act,  I am quick to interpret anything and everything and give it a meaning of my own. Sometimes I get the whole package wrong and suffer for it. On the same pace, I do not hide my excitement, it just shows, I swing myself a lot when I'm happy, and sometimes I let out a scream, now that is joy unspeakable. When I'm happy, you might just get a free hug. (Winks) If I am annoyed with you, boy o boy, my fa...

I have a certificate in INTROVERCY I am an Introvert Yes I am an introvert, a full certified introvert, take that to the bank. To add to that, I have a very shy personality as an added (dis)advantage.  I rarely meet people, but when I do, they're always worth it. Give me a working internet, a full pack of Korean and Indian movies, and of course, 24/7 electricity and I don't mind staying indoors for months. For what its worth, I won't get bored. Again, take that to the bank. I was brought up this way, like the 'omo get inside ' kind of training. I grew up in a public compound, a house full of kids, but that didn't in anyway change my status. I associated well among my peers, I played a lot as a child, hay chineke! I playyyyyyyyyy, no be small play. I played catcha, I built house on the sand, I did mummy and daddy, police and thief, who's in the garden, suwe, ten-ten, I call on, I could skip for Africa, I was a good racer too and to add to it, I ...

So here we go, the continuation of where we stopped the last time: 2. On being 5.5" I get different reactions from people I haven't met when I tell them I am 5foot 5inches tall. To me, it is tall enough abeg! I cannot comman resemble iroko tree cos I'm trying so much to match your taste of tall girls, sorry o, but I think 5.5" is tall enough for a lady. Period! 3. The 'Wrikative' Chiamaka This is a new word I created myself, I hope it makes it to the dictionary soon. A wrikative is a person who expresses all talks, thoughts and actions in writing. This is the best way I can describe myself, I am a wrikative. I loved story books as a child. I read a lot of stories in my childhood, those stories made me, encouraged me and helped me develop my own storyline and ideas, I could swap an entire meal for a new story book. I developed this passion for stories way back in 2002. I was still in basic school then, I was a full time story lover. My classmates w...

23 is a big number for me, like, 10years ago was just like yesterday. Well, I think I am happy to be alive, thankful to God for the start of another year.  My name is Chiamaka Osuji, and I want to tell my story bit by bit. I still wish I was perfect, like the 100% kinda woman. I have this dream of being everything, every good thing you can think of. But you know what they say about life not giving you the dose of all the things you need. Oh well, sometimes you just need to carry your cross by yourself. Do you know my exam was cancelled? Like we just went to school for parade and back. Well, that's besides the case. I have in mind to make 23 posts before my birthday, but eeeeehhhhhh, I never know o, its gonna be pretty hard for me, you know exams et al. But I'll try sha. Today, I'll talk about at least one thing out of the the 23 things about me I put up in my previous post, I think I'll split them into various posts that'll come up later on. So here we go; 1....

Its a Monday Exam morning, I have yawned like five times already. I am still staring at the books scattered all over my carpet. 'Dear Lord, do not let my efforts be in vain' I pray under my breath. I am tired, so I close my eyes again but open them again within seconds, I still have six hours more to rest my bones before day breaks. I think of calling mom, but then I am scared she will think something is wrong for me to have called her this late, my mom is like that. I change my mind and roll in bed. My head still aches, and I think my eyes are still swollen too. It is tears and sleepless night that has made it this way. I think I worry a lot, I think I have piled up so much worry my age can carry, don't blame me, this is the world I found myself. (Well, lemme gist you, I just finished eating a plate of emergency jollof rice, these days I get hungry so easily, this my hunger issue is beginning to frighten me. I am fat enough biko!) I should graduate next year, hopef...

I have made few posts about my aunty Nkechi on Facebook, but today, I have decided to make it a series, so that you, and you, and you, can realize what a 'wonderful' person I have as an aunt. Aunty Nkechi is a distant family friend, she's closer to my mum but then I have no idea what connection they both have. I only took notice of her the day she spoilt business for me, my long term business that has been yielding good seeds. That day I died. Literally. I had this tactics I generated for myself to enjoy more benefits from my parents. It has always been a norm in our house, that any sick child gets a bottle of malt and a can of milk, the idea was a malt and milk mixture as a substitute for blood tonic before any treatment follows. I, myself, was the only child who saw this as a plant yielding fruit, an opportunity per se. My siblings didn't see this opportunity with me, I didn't tell them either, I didn't want anyone tapping into my pot of wisdom, I discover...

Before now, it was easy to tell who a thief or a pick pocket was. You could tell from their dressing, unkempt hair styles, the way they look at you with one kain eye, you could even point out to those guys seated under the bridge to be thieves, it was so easy. But today, the system has changed. It isn't as easy as it used to be. You can't tell who a thief is and who is being 'thiefed' cos everybody is now opening eye. You stand on a queue with a well dressed man in tie. He mistakenly brushes your side while trying to adjust himself to fit properly on the line. You flare, you think he's trying to rob you. 'Oga wetin nah!' He looks at you, he tries not to feel intimidated. He doesn't know what he has done but he reacts anyway. 'What's your problem?' He asks with his eyes wide open. In his mind, he says to himself, "People wee think ayam touching her bumbum nau, so lemme kuku react". Lass-lass you eye him from head to toe a...