JOY NGOFAA'S BLOG

Continues from  Part 2 Do you remember the feeling of getting the first note from your crush? Ecstatic, right? Add the feeling of the note saying “I’m sorry we can’t be together, now.” Sour, true? You didn’t know whether to be happy about the note or sad that you couldn’t be together yet, somewhere in your mind still, a small voice is saying “Well, she cares about me. Well, he’s into me too” That’s the feeling. Right, Jireh just gave me the word for it. Numb. Numb yet at peace. My dearest Tayo, How long did it take your sloppy fingers to find the note, eh? I’m missing you already, my love “I miss you more, honey” I whisper out loud. Shammah heard, smiled at me. Jireh was just beside me. She squeezed my hand. I squeezed back. I wish I could stay longer and have children with you. Children we’ll be proud of. My love, every night I sleep I see visions of heaven and a feast awaiting me. I wish to stay, but I must go. My love, don’t weep too long for me, please don’t

Continued from  Part 1 Pretty much many times we don’t know what we’re looking for until we find it. I knew Sarah was her when I first met her. I can’t tell why, or how. The knowing was just there. “Welcome to church” And that was all. The magic happened. I saw the stars and all. It was my mum’s church. I had to attend since I came to visit her and it was Sunday, and mum won’t hear of it that you’d sit at home on a Sunday. We got married, Sarah and I. Six months in she got really sick. Cancer. She died a year later. That one year and six months of my life with Sarah, they were the best. O god! She was such a lively pack of dynamite. The pillow fights, the chase around the house. One day of positive thoughts can change your attitude towards life.  Worries about financial crisis and other situations become cliché. Night mares that seem to point to the future, but each time she tries to finish up, she gets caught up... "NEW THINGS" Click here to read She even

As a teen, 18 actually, that's pretty much still teenage, I used to think a lot about my to-be wife. I thought a lot about sex too, but, that's pretty much normal for a teenager. My to-be wife was an obsession. I'd imagine how we'd meet, where we'd meet, what she'd be like. My fantasies usually had her chocolate skinned, trim, pretty and smart. I hardly ever thought about us making love. Those fantasies were usually of other women, random women, most of them I already knew. This woman would be special. I am the last son in a family of seven sons raised by a woman. So maybe now you understand my obsession with the wife-thing. My mother, she's so special. Few mums like her have walked earth. Mum is a very pretty woman. Always has been. She had a busy life as a youth, trying to raise her siblings, two of them: Uncle Bayo and Aunty Teni. They lost both of their parents as kids, mum was 16 then. She would sell in the local market, buying on credit a

I'm a Priest. I'm thirty. My name is Samuel. Priesthood has always held a special meaning for me. Everyday during mass, I'd fall in a trance, listening to our Parish Priest. I'd imagine I was the on the pulpit. My white sparkle like that of the angels without spot; with all glow. And as we sang "are you washed with the blood" during communion, I'd close my eyes, my hands pressed together as I took the communion. It always felt like heaven. I almost did see God smiling down at me, and almost did hear his voice booming through the speakers in our auditorium saying; "this is my beloved son, in whom I am well pleased" I joined the seminary quite too early. I joined when I started hating the world and its ways, and that was really early. I got into the seminary first in my mind at six, although in reality I joined at twenty after my university education. I did a course in guidance and counseling. As you might have guessed, I didn't ev

Who remembers that famous line "I am a sucker for love"  Well I am not. Naturally I believe in love, like most of us do, but you see, unlike a lot of general ideas, notions and beliefs, I have other ideas. Don't get me wrong, I know how it feels to be in that special person's arms, how it feels to be embraced and caressed by that person. To hear their slow breathing, to perceive their unique yet confounding fragrance, to be touched by them in the least sensitive places of the human anatomy, yet feel so electrified by the gentlest perusal. Yes, it is an amazing yet frightening emotion. Not many of us have ever known that feeling and the sad truth is that most of us will only get to feel that way a handful of times in our short existence. Personally, I am still holding out hope against hope that I will be turned to a moron again. Yes, that's exactly what that emotion does to the human brain and mind. Yet, this time around, I am going to be a hardworking, b

“I will be forced to kill you one day boy. Don’t push me” That’s Dad. He is scolding Kingsley. I hiss as I think of this dungeon of a home. “Useless boy” his voice echoes again from outside into the sitting room, where I’m cleaning the furniture. Then the beatings and the slaps and more talk. Kingsley doesn’t say anything. We never say anything when he hits us over flimsy excuses or call us stupid and useless and insensitive and threatens to kill us. Mama is not any different. She’d shout and make analogies over flimsy excuses. She’d call us selfish, claiming that she does what most mothers can’t do for their children and that she deprives herself of a lot of things to make us happy, but we never do anything for her. In one minute she’d say “Aren’t you old enough to make decisions?” The next minute you would hear her say “You don’t follow what I tell you to do. Don’t make me curse you, you’ll regret it if I do.” We, my brother and I, are torn between being independent of them a

Continued from Part 1 If you haven't read part one,  Click here to read Jane was waiting around the corner. He had texted her that he was coming out, would she want to walk with him? Yes was the answer. She put her hand over his eyes, standing behind him immediately he crossed her path. “Jane” he said. She took her hands off, laughing excitedly like they hadn't already met at school earlier in the day. He turned around, holding her face in his hands. She stepped out of his hands giving him a disapproving glare. He grinned. “Teens shouldn't kiss like it's tea they must drink” he laughed.”Seriously, Sam. I think we should wait till we get married. “ His mouth hung open, the smile fading off his face. “Do you have a fever?” He asked her “No. Why?” “You sound strange. Did I offend you?” “No Sam,” Placing her hands on his shoulder. “Not you; the school’s evangelist” Sam arched his brow. “What about him? You're seeing him?” “No Sam.” Taking her han

December, 2018 Nina reflects over her year. She’s determined to make a better next year. Are you? I know. I said the same thing last year. The goal, the end of year resolutions - and yes I said things would be different. And I had a lot of analogies to prove that this year would be the year. I know I flopped again. I was not going to get back with Ken. January first he was in my bed necking me. My bad, I forgot to change the locks. He has keys to my place. And boy I couldn't stop him, even as I was sprawled there under him, moaning, staring at my goals and resolutions pasted just opposite the bed. I didn't even stop him when he asked my consent. I was going to join a church. I don't know what happened. I just couldn't bring myself to risk appearing so religious. My friends. My Mum. Arrghh Start to volunteer at the teens’ facility next to my office. Boy, work was hectic. And Ken. He's always so demanding. And exhausting. And &You, a volunteer at a tee