tears of a MOTHER

There is an entity, swear down she’s beautiful; she’s quite old oh! But from her baptism she’s just a couple decades old. THEwriter cannot reveal her age; you know women do not like that in public. You know women do not like to feel old. Well the depth of her beauty I cannot describe, not because THEwriter cannot express himself but it is too deep to decipher, or in fact like Rozay will say, it’s deeper than rap. But from her children her beauty is very visible. Truth is even if you give Shakespeare a shot to write on the extent of her fine-nature, he’ll guck it, no lie.

This woman for all I care is a widow, because the father of her children does not even show any love or care, instead He steals from her, in addition to all He stole before. See this truly happens in homes where the wife/woman caters for the kids alone, and the husband/man is just there dulling and not working, leaving all the weight on her. (Not cool) yeah the husband doesn’t care to help, just a whole lot of lip service #billclinton. The reality of the matter is that her children are constantly refused to see daddy; painful part is daddy knows about them (his kids) but he don’t care. This write-up is not about daddy/husband/father he can go to hell for all I care. THEwriter’s concern lies with the admiration of a calm woman void of hatred, abundant in love and care. Regardless of the ‘widow’ status, she still caters for her children, going against in-laws and extra terrestrial bodies/forces just to bless her kids. Only a mother understands what an offspring is, in the strict sense of it; forget the man, because the ownership of a child (Naija wise) is ‘His when good’, ‘Hers when bad’

Mummy is mad and in tears because after all these problems she's facing trying to balance activities, her household is in shambles. Everybody assigned to work for the greater good of her house ends up messing up to the point her abode is under serious upheaval. Her younger sons are blowing up the whole place, causing fear and panic everywhere, unsettling everybody; now her MUMU older sons are just worst for it, fighting here and there, stealing her money solely for them and their wives and immediate families. There is division in her Home. Haba!!! She cries… yet she still rain on us, and wash away the blood of her dead, deserted and cheated children all because of Mummy’s love for us.

Thank You Mummy NIGERIA.

@pokesville

fear fear (vol 2)

 
You will not know or understand until you visit and spend time in the streets of Jos, going from Ray-Field to Naraguta hostel and checking upon some peeps in Abuja hostel. Social center in Nara’G so on point, with Baba Onne running both local and foreign booze; grown ladies everywhere with maximum reasoning. So 

 THEwriter needed to re-visit the capital of plateau state to see how things are after missing her with a passion, and also to physically access the extent of the damage triggered by years of unrest after coming to terms with the fact that things will never remain the same. #zeroeleven, #makumba.

The plot scaled through and eventually the journey commenced with Dudu on the wheels and the sponsor of the trip behind the car. After Mararaba there was this feeling of fear and discomfort in the air. All those tabloids and their front page news of upheavals and incessant fights in Jos kept revisiting THEwriter’s mind. The faces of loved ones I left at home flashing before me here and there, even on the faces of road-side masara sellers.

We arrived at about 6p.m and the news of the curfew spoilt the heart of THEwriter. Finally finally we met with zito and he took charge, alongside my man grant. After a nice Kush session to clear eye we proceeded to Semshak for 1 or 2 Kwalba of HARP.

Like I mentioned in volume 1 of this episode “…it is good to take time-out to travel out of the usual and find peace inside….” It is that search of peace and happiness that we went to tidy brief alcohol.

As we approached near pharmacy from old Hotel D Lag, all four happily strolling, JTF (joint task force) just show up from no where… mogbe… my mind fly, I say God who carry me come this town oh! I for just de D’OS de lick my HARP, abi no be the same taste? Shapaly the Ford Ranger pulled over and like 6 soljo jump down with guns and frowning faces(I had to notice that); at once zito went ‘officers, officers’ then the officer in charge of the patrol came out of the passengers side and started interrogating us. He went ‘who are you?’ zito say ‘a soldier’, them ask grant ‘who are you?’ grant holding up his i.d card, said ‘an officer sir’ na dere I sabi say dudu and I don die…bloody civilians. I knew I would not bring out that my corper i.d card, I for chop beta slap. Then pointing to me he said ‘are you an officer too?’ I shut up, beta ice-block enter my mouth, at once my highness clear. zito intercepted and said ‘no but we are together’ them ask Dudu, himself shut up. The man said ‘ok’ now pointing at Dudu and THEwriter he said ‘enter the truck’ at once and with speed me and Dudu fly enter. Dudu come go si-don for soljo space for that back wey dem de put crime-fighters thief people, the soldier shout ‘are you sitting on my seat’ immediately we shout ‘no sir’ we pam for ground wey cold die. This was about 3 hours into curfew while negotiations continued... inside my mind I say like 6 Hail Mary , 2 Our Father but  I no complete any because the fear too much… see soldier bad forget  joke .. dem no touch us but the kind fear wey catch me No b play play something.  I reason many things; kai!!!  This people fit say make I carry Dudu do frog-jump, dem fit say make I drink one bag of pure water, they might also say I should mop-up the wet ground with my shirt.

Finally they freed us thanks to ‘identification’  trust me no be small shayo go down because to commot for that state of shock no be play play something, also more HARP fall to calm THEwriter’s nerve as she did not turn up as planned, and no other was in town.  Following day was fresh too, even though there were pocket violence in Bauchi road, Azi still raise us to secretariat junction to enter car back home.

God who supports positive things brought us back and Jaguar was waiting. The fun continued…

Calculate the risk, add God then have fun. However, We JOS want peace in the Plaru

Thank You

@pokesville