I have one of my Childhood picture frames hung beside the electric bell and another a painting of me made by Desmond when he was an apprentice at the painter's workshop, this he decide to place close to the sitting room window for reasons best known to him. To every visitor that comes our home,... Continue Reading →



By 2:00 am that night, Mother came to the sitting room to pick her reading glasses, I was with my phone lying down on the couch. “Is this how you stay up late at school glued to your phone? She asked and entered her room expecting no reply. Behind the window few minutes after Mother... Continue Reading →

This is what I couldn’t tell Mother.

My mother is the dark fat woman who roast plantain at the bus stop, you will always see her tie a scarf, so if I don’t tell you, you won’t know how rough mother’s hair always is, because she has no money to make it. Beside her charcoal stand is the parking space of Okada... Continue Reading →

Our Little Village must not Grow Wide.

Now is the time we all have to get a different mind on racism. Even if history will forever keep its pain and the future will be shaped by history. A society with a pint of stereotype in it's system will not thrive. Is it not so lame if we believe we are set on... Continue Reading →


On the Eve of the new year, we all pictured the best the coming year would be. The night of our resolutions, a long list of what to quit, an image of the new us, fixed minds, unwavering and passionate souls. Swords sharpened for war, diggers that will dig to depth of treasures and edge... Continue Reading →

The Flower Garden.

  I have lived in this bungalow with brother and Grandma for over Twelve years. Daffodils, Iris, sun flower, sweet pea, Aster, Rose, Bed flowers and lots. Our bungalow looks perfectly like a flower garden; flowers climbing the building poles, some growing in pots and others in glass bottles. All round the year fresh flowers... Continue Reading →

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