Diary Entries: Songs of Childhood

I apologize folks…I just haven’t figured out what to do with Solape…what kind of ending she needs and so on.…


February 17, 2013

I apologize folks…I just haven’t figured out what to do with Solape…what kind of ending she needs and so on. I have been too lazy to try. But if you guys encourage me in the comment box …. 🙂

Blogger is so boring. Where are all my fave people gone? I miss Bros T most of all 🙁
Anyways, have a great week people. God bless you in ways you haven’t even imagined.
I can’t sleep.

I am reminded of how my mother loves to quote the Bible and tell me how there is no rest for the wicked. Segun is snoring softly beside me; he is definitely not wicked.

I miss my mother. She has been gone exactly two weeks today.

She came home from grocery shopping the other day to find Marcus yelling curses at me. I have never been so thankful to hear my mother’s voice. From the other side of the door where i hid like a coward, I thanked heaven for bringing her home before I could open the door for Marcus.

‘You stupid uselses boy with no home training.Ti won ba bi e da, you break the door and see. Ma je wo Ilorin fun e. My daughter does not have time for useless boys like you. In case you don’t know, where we come from in Nigeria, she is a princess. She has royal blood in her and she is not meant for commoners like you…’

I could see it in my mind’s eye and imagining my mother, all of 5ft 2′ , standing up to Marcus who had once played college basketball, was all I needed. All my fear disappeared and I ran to open the door.

Lets just say, Marcus will stay away from every and anything Nigerian for a while.

Segun is, well, he is Segun.

He keeps dropping hints about moving back to Lagos and settling down. Elsa tells me I would be a fool not to go with him. Elsa needs to start minding her own business. It is no wonder my hair always looks like a serial killer went through it every time she is done cutting. If she paid more attention to my hair than to what goes on in my bed, this would not be the case. I have no clue why I keep going back to her shop.

I am not in love with Segun. I know this now. And it is alright.

I want to spend the rest of my life with him…in New York that is. All these talk about Lagos is driving a wedge between us. This is how I know I am not in love with him. If I were, I would follow him half way around the world, abi?

Maami’s memorial is in a few weeks. I want to go so bad. I want to breathe in the dusty humid air of Lagos nights. I want to sit under our mango tree and imagine Maami singing in God’s choir. I want to hear the songs of my childhood… ‘Ki le o le she, Olorun mi.’

I dreamed of my father. It is why I am wide awake while the rest of the world slumbers on.

‘What should I wear Baba?’
‘Anything you want, Solape. Just hurry up so we can get out f here before Maami gets back and tries to stop us from going.’

And so I had worn my favorite red gap shorts and the t-shirt my mother had gotten for me from her last trip to Dubai. It read ‘ Daddy’s Best Girl’.
‘I am ready, Baba.’ I announced to my father as I closed the door of my bedroom.
‘Where are your bags?’ My father asked smiling.
‘Why do we need bags, Baba?’
‘I thought I told you we were going to spend a couple of days at the resort with your stepmother and brothers. In fact I am sure you won’t want to leave once we are there. Now go and bring your things and bring your passport too. We will need some identification for you.’

The drive was long and tiring but my father bought me as many Fan Yoghurts as I demanded. It wasn’t until I saw the signs for Ikeja that I knew something was wrong.

‘You are taking me to the airport, aren’t you Baba?’ I had asked the man in a voice smaller than my skinny body.

My father ignored me but I had all the answer I needed in the knuckles that gripped the steering wheel tightly.

I started to cry.
‘Shut up. Just stop your useless crying. You are not my child and if your mother thinks that by forcing someone else’s bastard child down my throat she will ever get anything from me or my family, then she has another think coming. Because of you, my wife is threatening to leave me. Because of you, she wants to take away my sons, my heirs, the only rights I have to kingship. Because of you and your cursed mother!’

His eyes were red and flecks of his saliva were flying everywhere. Veins lined his face and I could barely make out the eyes that everyone else were exactly like mine.

In my dream, my father dissolved and a monster took his place. I opened my mouth to scream but nothing came out; and so I watched quietly, mouth wide open in a silent scream as he made to swallow me.

What really happened was not too far from the truth.

I would wake up in a hospital four days later, to find my mother at my bedside and Maami on her knees, crying softly, hands raised to heaven singing…

‘Ki le o le she, Olorun mi, Ki le o le she…’

Songs of my lost childhood…

Song of the day: Owl City – Fireflies

4 thoughts on "Diary Entries: Songs of Childhood"

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.required

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

Related Posts

Last year , a missionary came to my church in Toronto. He talked about the mission to the First Nations.…


There are some names you hear and you never forget. Imamuli is one of those names for me. I never…


  When you read one man like you read no one else, you will soon start to sound like him.…


Last night I dreamed I was on a hill. Alone. And yet I wasn’t lonely. The wind breathed in my ears…


%d bloggers like this: