Gemstots

Today we remember this Friday 17 years ago; Who would have thought when we woke up that we would never forget April 25; Today we remember earnestly awaiting your arrival; You had promised to bring us ‘Kilishi’ and ‘Dankwa’; Today we remember how the time passed and still you had not arrived; Even the special vegetable soup for your arrival was ready; Today we remember not ever eating that soup…lol Or anything at all that night; Today we remember how August visitors trooped into our home at about 7pm; Apparently they had all known since midday; Today we remember retreating to our living room like we had been taught; Only till we heard our mothers shout of “Oh No”; Today we remember how the tears flowed freely that day; And for days and months after that; Today, we remember but with no tears; We remember you with a smile; Today we remember how you would dance with two fingers in the air; And how we would say “Daddy you can’t dance”; Today we remember

(Image courtesy Enzo's dp) In recent times, I've come to realize that those born in the 80s had similar experiences growing up. It’s amazing how very similar standards were adopted in various homes even without the paths of our parents ever crossing, not even till date. Guess it’s safe to call it the African Gene! I’ve come up with a shortlist, it’s not exhaustive but feel free to add the other common traits of the African parent. While growing up; ·          When a visitor gives you money, you give it to mummy to keep; when you ask her later, she reminds you your last breakfast was bought with money; ·          You had a chest of drawers and each child had a drawer to themselves, while your Church clothes and party clothes were kept in mummy’s room; ·          While playing on the street with your neighbours, you see your mummy’s car approach and flee to your house like you just saw a ghost; the fear of the African Mother! ·          You get your piece

(image courtesy ldsactivitydayideas.blogspot.com) “Hi my name is Lisa S. and I’m your pen pal” So I had a penpal. And for some reason, I can even recall her name. My parents would get mails and so would I. I remember how excited I was when I got the first introductory mail. I felt grown up. I had somebody writing to me from 'america'. I really can’t remember what it was we exchanged in those few letters, but I often wonder, how it was that I was excited to get a letter from my pen pal. My sister and I each had our different pen pals. My pen pal would write in fancy looking papers and so I would tear out the blank glossy sheet from my dad’s annual report and write back. I was under ten. I really don’t know what I had to say; probably about my school and family. I lost touch when we moved houses and omitted to communicate the change in address. Again I was under ten.  (image courtesy realifebh.com) I think my pen pal influenced my hand writing 'cos

I’ve been accused of blogging once in a 'pink' moon, so here’s one for the New Year! (image courtesy www. travelscopeng.com ) From my corner at the waiting lounge of the Nnamdi Azikiwe Airport in Abuja, I keep staring at the Med-View Plane that had just arrived from Lagos. My mind tries to process why the plane has the EU logo and that of another country imprinted on it. I try even harder to recall what the Med-view logo actually is; the blue wavy stripes at the tail of the plane do not seem the least bit familiar! Perhaps Med-View has commenced flights outside Nigeria, I conclude. Soon enough my flight to Lagos was announced. We go through the normal security process and that’s when I see the first one. At the door of the aircraft is a Portuguese young man to tell you where your seat is. I have never quite made sense of the need for direction on a local flight. How much help is ‘your seat is to the right’? And while I’m at it, I have also never made sense of

(image courtesy www.freepik.com) 2013!!! The year beautiful ones were born and according to Mrs. Ayede, the year great ones left us. In less than 10 days, 2013 will become history, a year that will only be remembered for calculating milestones and anniversaries. Never again will we have dates like 11-12-13, there’ll never be another 2013, at least not in this lifetime. Sadly, we leave behind those we loved and lost; those whose life journeys ended in 2013. Nelson Mandela Kofi Awoonor Margaret Thatcher Adenike Ogungbe (Ewar) Lou Reed Cory Montheit Mrs. Christy Adebimpe (Shekere Alaafin) Chinua Achebe Kehinde Okikiolu Simpson Paul Walker Dr. Emmanuel Iwelomen Mike Akhigbe Peter Okodua Dr. Irawo Adamolekun Mrs  Ali-Ameh Solomon Lar Susan Oluwabimpe “Goldie” Harvey Omolade Balogun   Bukky Oni Festus Iyayi Sometimes I wonder if there’s a reason certain people leave together in the same year. Yet again, every one of these people would have wanted the

Recently, I have been trying my hands out on some food -Xperiments, been reading Food Blogs like the dailies and been discovering some amazing food secrets like the Sesame Seed Oil (thanks to my food network watching cousin)!!! I'm not a big eater, in fact I can be perfectly defined as "the lady that does not eat" I get comments like "that's why you're not fat" "when you won't eat" "you need to eat" yada yada yada. I tell anyone who cares to listen, food is not the reason I'm not fat. In fact, while I may not be a big a eater, the composition of my tiny meals will send any one with fat genes to the gym. I love any meal that comes with colour and has an aroma that has me sniffing around. So I basically try to turn everyday meals into something with an aroma and color or a different shape. Sometimes, I stand at the door to my refrigerator and just keep staring. My financial industry work has me staring at every food

The Pont des Arts and Pont de l'Archeveche in Paris have been re-branded by tourists from all over. Neither of these bridges still maintain their original identity, they are now known simply for the hundreds of padlocks attached to the bridge. To be honest, I do not even remember which one of these two bridges I crossed, all I remember seeing is an unbelievable number of padlocks. From the foot of either bridge, tourists are met with hundreds of padlocks either attached directly to the railings of the bridge or attached to other already attached padlocks on the bridge. Let me give a brief history of the locks of love before I throw on my African cap. Couples go to these bridges prepared to “seal” their love with a padlock. This is obvious from the fact that most of the padlocks have engraved names while some simply have names inscribed with a felt pen. They call it a symbol of love and commitment (whatever happened to the wedding ring).  The lovers, both of whom mus