THIS THNG...THIS THING

To begin these series of idle thoughts, I read a certain letter written to me by a friend about imagining if falling in love was capable of killing people. Love like HIV/AIDS or Cancer would kill slowly until full blown, leading to an untimely demise. Or worse, killing almost immediately like Ebola or a terrible poison. I pondered on this imagination for a while, and came to the conclusion that half the world, if not all, would have died from this terrible disease called Love. I let my mind run through several other imaginations. For instance, every social media would tell everyone to beware of the deadly disease called Love. I imagined people going everyday to a Brainwashing Center to have their brain washed from any symptoms of love. I imagined people dying from cardiac arrests caused by love. People with love symptoms would immediately be quarantined. I imagined people finding a means to erase every single memory of the person they love. I imagined how the heart would stop immediately it noticed that it was opening up for some 'human'. In a bid to shake it off, it would stop beating, making the person convulse perhaps, shake uncontrollably perhaps, and eventually, die. But don't people who fall in love die everyday? The heart sometimes misses a beat especially when one is with that special person. It is better this way, I thought. Love would have amounted to being a terrible disease. And so, these series of thoughts lead me to a story; my muse was and is God in addition to this letter written by my friend, they walked me to this story... "If love fit kill person, everybody go don die finish" A normal human setting as we have it. This place captured the hearts and souls of those who went there. It was Ibadan. The love disease had spread to every nook and corner of the world in less than a week. Everyone was dying every single minute. That morning Joseph watched his parents slumber on the floor after they had kissed. He could hear the echo in his own voice as he kept on screaming their names. The floor in the house seemed too moist and his face blurred. He had lost them. The people to whom he owed it all. He started to run. He ran as fast as he could because that was the only thing that came to his mind to do. In his confused state, he ran without stopping, without thinking, without looking back and reconsidering. If at all there was something to consider. Could it be?... He blotted out this thought. Thoughts, they said, would lead to more thoughts, and more thoughts would lead to love, and love, instant death. It was unfair. The world was never fair anyway. He had to stop schooling because of this. Maybe if the Universities had not been shut down for multiple deaths he would have continued. He had felt he was safe, but there was no more safety. Safety had become a big risk. He kept on running, running as fast as his legs could carry him. And as he ran, he saw people slumbering. There were thousands and countless continuous wails, and an instant silence after the wails all going into his head. He could hear them, then he could hear them no more. Every minute a person wailed, they died off. He decided to shut himself from all of this... From all of these things. His legs suddenly stopped, and his face was signified by a surprise. He stopped only when he saw her. The girl to whom he had written so many poems, but did not have the courage to give them to her. The girl who had charmed his very soul of existence. The girl who had given him a kiss that sent him into bouts of strange feelings. A feeling that he had never felt before. A feeling he could never ever fathom. A feeling he could never explain. He called it this thing... This thing. It was a thing, it was a beautiful thing. It was a beautiful feeling. He saw her, the girl he loved. She stood right outside her house which was a few kilometres from his with a sad face. He walked slowly towards her, his hand reaching desperately for her face. He touched her cheeks and stared at her sad eyes. It lingered for almost eternity. "I love you so much", he confessed. Something he had never confessed to her. All this time he had been too shy to say it. All this time, it had been "this thing". He felt his heart tearing away from his chest, and he kissed her the second time. The last time. He went on his knees and smiled at her. He died smiling.

THE TALE OF THE SINGLE STAR

   
   

       There was nothing to be said as she watched the stars smear the sky like a beautiful painting. she waited until they appeared in their countless numbers, the moon smiling at her surprised look. It had been a long time since she had seen the stars fill the sky,such a long time. She had lost account of time. Too busy was she with her earthly activities that she had forgotten who she had been and the stars shining brightly above reminded her of her past. She cherished it, wished for it again, to lay at its bosom, to grasp it and this night, unlike any other night wished she could lay under the watchful eyes of the stars. On the chair where she rested, the stars entertained her eyes forming different shapes and sizes. She would laugh when she mistake satellites for big stars...It reminded her of her childhood and how she had said in her little mind that it was her star. Or when she had imagined a big house in the full moon with Jesus in it. Such innocence, she had missed that feeling. The smiling moon stayed firm telling her of its unchangeable state despite countless pressure. She wept after this silent talk, how greatly she had changed and laughed again when a shooting star came across. Then a star tired of standing in the skies fell down. It fell very fast. It fell deep down, it fell beyond imagination into an endless deep abyss.

THE LITTLE MEMORY BOOK

    During the times I entered airplanes, I had wished to be in it with a friend or perhaps see one. it would just be as fun if  I could make one in it. I was unlucky because I had to sit beside older people who were most times usually quiet. I noticed another thing too. People kept to themselves, trying to pretend like rich people who did not enjoy the company of strangers. Although, I loved staring at the sky, I preferred staring at it when I was on the ground. This sort of misty nothingness became boring to me. I had missed the road transports. I could see so many things and even make new friends. People in the bus were usually very friendly. I also had the chance to stop and eat at strange looking restaurants and keep looking out to make sure the bus had not left. I had missed the times where there would be no time to stop to eat anything and your mind will create 'imageries' of food. Other times you might keep your eyes open, sleep and wake up to the reality that one was still inside the bus. So as I carried my luggage, I did a silent prayer hoping perhaps I found someone worth the flight. The old man had sat beside me reading a newspaper. I concluded my luck was useless this time. I watched carefully as each passenger looked for his seat. As the young man approached the next seat beside me, I hoped he had come to stay. After walking forward a bit with a rather confused face, he finally sat beside me. As i stared painfully at the seats in front of me, I tried to figure out how to talk to him. The old man who had wanted to start a conversation with me could not because we both knew there was nothing to say to each other. The time difference was too glaring and obviously both generations would have a different taste. Finally, the cold from the air conditioner incited a speech from me. 'Are you cold?' I asked the young man. The forty minutes left became a memorable one. A memory which he was unaware that he had created. Sitting in the middle, I chatted long and hard with him. After the flight, i concluded that prayers were always being answered. He became a chapter in my memory book.

Letters to my Daughter (When we thought of You) 2

Invitation cards were flying everywhere, wild publicity was made. It promised to be the best teenage birthday party ever. Segun Da-Costa, the son of Nigeria's top business mogul was making expensive preparations towards his forthcoming birthday bash. With the look of things one needed no soothsayers to foresee that the party was strictly for the children of the big names in the top business sectors and the ruling class of the country. Sweetheart, we only knew Segun Da-Costa because our parents were working for his parents. We were never allowed to be friends with Segun or his siblings because of the differences in our financial lives. But, we wanted to attend this party and we decided to persuade our parents. It took my mother, the cook of the Da-Costas about four days to succumb, while your mom's father Otunba Da-Costa driver could not bear the frequent begging from his only child and gave in just barely two hours after. The party was beautiful and full of well-to-do children. Segun (the celebrant) and his sisters were dressed in glamorous outfits. Their friends were not exempted from this setting. When the party commenced, the boys took their female partners to the dance floor. I, took your mum as we danced vigorously to the thump-thump beats of Wande Coal, D'banj, Patoranking and the rest. Soon enough, your Mum complained of. slight headache and body pain. I assumed it was perhaps because she was unaccustomed to this sort of life; parties and all. We decided to walk back to our part of the Mansion; the boys quarters so she could rest. Her room was locked because we realised soon enough that her father had forgotten to leave the keys with her and had driven Chief Da-Costa to the office. I suggested that she rests in my room since she felt her temperature would increase again if she went back to the party. After a few minutes of talking intimately,our wall of self control of many years crumbled before our own eyes. It was almost six weeks before your mother realised she was pregnant. I was dumbfounded on hearing the news. We practically did not know what step to take but we were certain that telling or making our parents find out was not an option at all. After much deliberation and critical thinking, we departed having concluded on what step to take next Your Mum and Dad. To be continued...