Let’s begin from this moment.

May the past become a sweet memory, and the future be full of wonders.

What I have for you:

Creatives Café

An explorer visitor

What I’m reading

Some quotes

1.

11th April began with a waft of chamomile tea sifting through my nostril. I sipped, sniffing in its aroma as I planted the cup on my lips.

I pulled my rosary almost in twos, lips vibrating in mumour as I muttered the morning litanies. I was seated, almost folded, on a prayer mat and rested my head on the wall, right beside my hanging bookshelf.

I take the chamomile tea when I’ve had tiring days or week. Since I’ve understood the need to take pills sparingly, I always hesitate, and consider natural care first, while pills become a last resort. Sometimes I’ll decide it’s sleep that I needed.

Weeks before, I had paid for two to attend a literary event: Creatives Café.

The organizers are facilitators of the Ogun Poetry Festival. I had thought the program was the Festival, until I chatted with one of them on WhatsApp. The Café holds between 3pm to 5pm. I had enough time to do other things, and prepare.

. . . .

We pulled off in front of ARTitude, a brief concave for Artists. Ọrẹ wa and I walked in while I strapped Aboki to my chest. No longer than ten minutes that I arrived there, I was called on stage for reading.

I went on stage twice, and read five poems in total. One from my book “Aubade at Night or Serenade in the Morning” titled “to whom it may concern”; one is a new unpublished poem “I make a mirror of this river,”; while others are a series of poems “Ars Poetica (I, II, & III)”, the third won me 2nd Prize in the 2025 Octofest Poetry Contest.

We went there with books from Bibliosmia Books and sold copies. Win-win, you know 😉 The biggest win is that Aboki enjoyed himself wounding himself around me and his mum, playing with papers, and chewing on biscuits and chinchin. 😁

You won’t understand such win until you go out with your kid and it was cries here and there, such that you couldn’t settle down into the event.

2.

I had a visitor, Nuuru Zaman, on Sunday, 12th April, who came to explore my library. He also picked up copies of the books he had bought earlier, recommended by me.

They are my top 3, as of today: How to Win Friends and Influence People by Dale Carnegie; Why You Act the Way You Do by Tim Lahaye; and Outliers by Malcolm Gladwell.

You should read them.

3.

I attended a “close” book club we started last year with a honourable justice of Ogun State High Court.

We were to discuss “Angel and Demons” by Dan Brown but couldn’t. We are to now read his new book “Secret of Secrets.” Both are to be discussed at our next meeting.

So far, we have discussed “The Devil’s Advocate” and “Outliers” at the Book Club. It’s a book club for all-round reading. My Lord is more than a judge.

4.

13/5/2026

So I picked up a copy of Paulo Coelho’s ‘The Alchemist’ last night. I’ve wanted to read it for sometime now. I read the introductory matters. This morning, I dived into the core story.

Guess what, I finished it today. It was that unputdownable. Reading it was all I did at the office 🤦 The only break I took from the book were for Zuhr and Asri prayers. Paulo Coelho really did a thing with that novel.

It’s a novel but is often listed among self-help books because it’s highly inspirational. As I read on, I quickly found myself in the story and picked the gems that belongs to me. And why not? The shepherd boy wasn’t named in the story. So, you are to fill in the gap with yours.

My key takeaway from the book is that whatever you have dreamed to become is your Personal Legend, and you should strive at all cost to discover yours and achieve it.

Put your heart in the affirmation realm, because wherever your heart is, is where your treasure is. And in the end, pray while you work.

While I have shared below some favourite quotes from the book, I’ll do a brief review of it in a dedicated newsletter, God willing.

. . . . . . . . . . .

Let me return to the remaining two books of the month. Dan Brown’s two books: “Secret of Secrets” and “Angels and Demons.” I pray to be able to complete them. They are for the book club with My Lord.

Quotations

“Business guru Robin Sharma declared: Everything is created twice; first in the mind, and then in reality. Pablo Picasso’s most enduring quote proclaimed: Everything you can imagine is real.”

—Dan Brown, The Secret of Secrets

It’s as if the brain is not predicting reality…so much as creating it.”

—Dan Brown, The Secret of Secrets

—Dan Brown, The Secret of Secrets

“People say strange things, the boy thought. Some times it’s better to be with the sheep, who don’t say anything. And better still to be alone with one’s books.”

—Paulo Coelho, The Alchemist

—Paulo Coelho, The Alchemist

“They’re not my sheep anymore. They must be used to their new shepherd, and have probably already forgotten me. That’s good. Creatures like sheep, that are used to traveling, know about moving on.”

—Paulo Coelho, The Alchemist

“Why do we have to listen to our hearts?” The boy asked. “Because wherever your heart is, that is where you’ll find your treasure.”

—Paulo Coelho, The Alchemist

—Paulo Coelho, The Alchemist

What is our job as writers, as poets, as readers, as lovers of literature? “The job is to ask questions -- it always was -- and to ask them as inexorably as we can. And to face the absence of precise answers with a certain humility.”

—Arthur Miller

“Don’t be seduced into thinking that that which does not make a profit is without value,” said Miller. Wisdom worth remembering when everything is reduced to money, to profit, or to measurable and sellable data.

—Elif Shafak

Ààbọ̀ mi rè óo

So far so good and so beautifully put, this is how we begin the newsletter this year.

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Odàbọ̀, kó si àdìtú tí a kì í tú.

Farewell, may no mystery remain unsolved.

— ASWAGAAWY

The toothpick that walks like a man

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This morning, the alliteration of October Twenty, Twenty-Twenty (October 20, 2020) reminisced the whispers of flying bullets in my ears. I reimagined a vivid picture of bullets hovering above the Lekki Tollgate like birds of prey. Then the birds perch, picking on protesters: plucking their eyes, clawing their faces, tearing their ribs; blood dripping, splashing, flowing, everywhere . . .

The cry of pain, the cry of help, the silent muffles of surrender and succumbing to injuries, all started echoing in my ears. My mind was messed up. These images nodded against the pillars of my heart.

Then one image stood uniquely: blood-stained Nigerian flags, and that made me want to shout for help, wishing someone could lift the country out of the carnage it dwells in.

As I reminisced further, I saw hashtags drizzling like rain:

#EndSARS

#Sọ̀rọ̀ Sókè

#EndPoliceBrutality

#LekkiMasacre

Here’s what I have for you:

•How it Started

•Intermission

•Unfortunate Coincidence

•The 7 poems of Witness

•The Aftermath

•Five (5) years later, what did the #EndSARS movement teach us?

•How it Started

The above are the highlights of the #EndSARS protest of 2020 through which Nigerian Youth condemned police brutality and called for the disbandment of SARS (Special Anti-Robbery Squad)—a unit of the Nigerian Police Force specially created to combat armed robbery— which unfortunately became notorious for brutalising innocent Nigerians.

They specifically went after the Youth, and would subject the innocents to extortion, harrassment, torture and oftentimes extrajudicial killings. Ironically, they became the armed robbers taking away from citizens and would take some to the ATM and coerce them to withdraw their moneys for them, among other nasty activities.

As a result, citizens began campaigns on social media with the hashtag #EndSARS. In no long time, this escalated into large-scale demonstrations. It became more remarkable when thousands of Nigerians took to the streets raising placards on October 1, 2020 to un-celebrate the Nigeria’s Independence Day, thereby deepening the #EndSARS protest.

Almost every state in the country joined the movement until it spreads globally, so much that Twitter (now X) made an emoji of the movement’s symbol. Nigerians in the diaspora joined in, with placards reading: “We don’t come home because of SARS,” among others.

The demand of the “Sọ̀rọ̀ Sókè Generation” was simple:

i. disbandment of SARS
ii. justice for victims of police brutality
iii. comprehensive police reform

The generation’s movement also highlighted the following critical and broader issues:

i. corruption
ii. high levels of unemployment
iii. better governance

A government deeply tangled in the web of systemic corruption would be threatened by the second leg of the demand. And yes, Nigerian government, which has been known for politics rather than governance, felt threatened. The peaceful protests across the country began to seem like a revolution, like a coup, to them.

The government quickly restyled SARS to SWAT. But Nigerians wanted complete proscription. We were not ready to stop until SARS is disbanded. And this earned us again the name “coconut head generation.”

It is important to note that the protests were characterized by peaceful demonstrations, marches, sit-ins, and social media activism. There was no time the protesters resorted to violence.

The only violent scenes were ones created by police attacking protesters, or by thugs, who were believed to have been mobilized by the government, to hijack the protest. And then, we got some other names: the Hoodlums, or, Lazy Nigerian Youth.

The protest grew wide and wide, and Youth across the country stormed their State Capitals, including Abuja. I had just moved to Abeokuta and would show up under Panseke bridge for the protest. A day nothing happened in Panseke, I took bike to Obantoko to join the ongoing march.

The violent scene started when Police stray bullet hit an innocent boy in Ondo state who stood by, observing the procession. Then the counts began to rise.

In Lagos, the Youth took over the revenue point of the government—the Lekki Tollgate, and refused to go home. Days began to run into a week. Some would go to work and resume there. Some didn’t even go to work at all. And the lines from the poem of Adedayo Agarau became instructive:

“the boy will someday rise into a / revolution, men revolting against a country that asks for heads / instead of thumbs, blood instead of nods...”

It was rumoured that by a United Nation’s regulation, if the citizen’s protest against a government reach the 30th day, the United Nation will take over as that implies a vote of no confidence, or, declare a state of emergency.

So, in the night of October 20, 2020 in a bid to disperse the protesters, the government ordered the tollgate light be put off, the camera disconnected, and the army to storm the place, armed to the teeth.

The weapons in the hands of protesters were Nigerian flags, and their war song was the National anthem. Unfortunately, these shields couldn’t protect them from the governmental bullets. And the carnage of that day gave birth to the hashtag #LekkiMasacre.

May we always remember. May we never forget.

Intermission

• The movement gained international attention and support.

• The Nigerian government eventually disbanded SARS.

• It established a special tribunal to give justice to police brutality victims, and announced plans for police reform.

However, dissatisfaction still remained in the minds of protesters due to the government’s resort to use of force that took lives of protesters, and led some to seek asylum outside the country. Also, the second leg of our demand remained uncatered for.

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Unfortunate Coincidence

The #EndSARS movement came in the same period the fire of #BlacksLivesMatter movement was refueled in the U.S. It was against the Western countries, especially the United States. It centers around raising awareness for issues related to systemic racism, racial injustice, and police brutality towards Black individuals.

Like #EndSARS, the #BlackLivesMatter was characterized by police brutality. But unlike it, the White citizens were seen harassing the Blacks and most times shot them to death.

The #BlackLivesMatter originated in 2013 when the killer of Trayvon Martin was acquitted. It quickly gained prominence as a cry against violence targeted at Black people. It emphasizes the importance of holding individuals and systems accountable for perpetuating racial discrimination and advocating for meaningful change.

The #BlacksLivesMatter hashtag resurfaced when George Floyd was kneeled in the neck on May 25, 2020 by a White Minneapolis cop, Derek Chauvin, seizing his breath for about 9 minutes till he gave up. Floyd was seen in a viral video gasping “I Can’t Breathe,” and the hashtag #ICantBreathe was birthed in the movement.

Earlier in the year, on February 23, 2020, Ahmaud Arbery was shot while jogging on the street of Glynn County, Georgia. He was pursued and confronted by two white men, Travis and Gregory McMichael, who wrongly suspected and falsely accused him of being involved in a nearby burglary. During the confrontation, Ahmaud Arbery was shot and killed. 2020 was a dark year, with the darker shadow of Covid-19 in the background.

The 7 Poems of Witness

Popularly known for their social response, my poetry reacted to these unfortunate events.

•October 20, 2020

•Sọ̀rọ̀ Sókè and Break the Long Chain of Oppression

•Our Streets are Tarred with Candle Wax

• I Can't Breathe

• February 23, 2020

•Can We Breathe Now?

•the world our tears ask for

•The Aftermath

The soldiers, after killing many protesters, cleaned their mess by going away with the bodies of their victims. People cried out that the dead bodies be given to their their relatives. Guess what? The government stated that no one died in the Lekki tollgate protest attack.

In October 2023, the Lagos State government planned to silently bury 103 victims of the #EndSARS crisis. The plan was suspended due to outcry demanding government to carry out coroner investigation on the 103 #EndSARS victims, and give time to people to identify their relatives.

At the inquiry panel, the Lagos State pathology, tendered report of 99 people killed during the Protest, and said at least 3 of the bodies were from Lekki and were perforated by missiles.

The panel of inquiry therefore pronounced that there was a massacre at the Lekki Tollgate as against what the government said.

Even though the government stated that no one has come to identify the bodies as their relatives who was at the Lekki Tollgate, the public understood that it was all lies. There were reports that family members have been threatened to keep silent.

•Five (5) years later, what did the #EndSARS movement teach us?

It taught us to speak up, and that when we do, we make things change, we inspire progress.

The #EndSARS protest marked a significant moment in Nigeria’s history, with citizens amplifying their voices and standing up against police brutality and systemic corruption vis-a-vis governmental ineptitude.

It also highlighted the power of social media in organizing and mobilizing people for a common cause.

It didn't take a Nostradamus to know that Nigerian youth were civil and reasonable in the #EndSARS protest, but it takes Nepal for us to understand that wèrè la fí n wọ wèrè.

What memory did #EndSARS protest etch in your mind?

What lesson did you learn?

What's the way forward?

Let's jaw-jaw in the comment section.

Leave a comment

Odàbọ̀, kó si àdìtú tí a kì í tú.

Farewell, may no mystery remain unsolved.

— ASWAGAAWY

The toothpick that walks like a man

Some years back, I stirred my memory for the ecosystems that we have in Africa. What I could recall were just the Sahel and the Sahara.

The urge to know more made me discover the Kalahari and the Serengeti.

But before then, my encounter with Kalahari was through a journal called "Kalahari review", a leading literary journal in Africa. I didn't take cognizance of the name "Kalahari" until my research.

Today, we'll talk about this Kalahari, and another that amazed me: "Serengeti."

Africa’s Natural Wonders

The Africa ecosystems is rich with some of the most spectacular natural wonders in the world.

Amidst the many challenges punching the eyes of the continent—such as overpopulation, poverty, and political instability—Africa continues to hold an enviable position on the global map.

Much of this reputation comes from its wildlife, its vast and complex ecosystems, and its desert landscapes. Among the most iconic are the Kalahari, the Serengeti, the Sahel, and the Sahara—each a marvel in its own right.

Breaking them into two compartments of Deserts and Savannah, let's take a look at some not-often talked about Africa's natural wonders that festoon the continent in terms of ecosystems.

THE DESERTS

Africa is home to more deserts than many people realize.

In fact, there are up to fifteen deserts scattered across the continent, varying widely in size, climate, and location.

These include the Sahara, Kalahari, Namib, Chalbi, Danakil, Tanzerouft, White Desert, Eastern Desert, Sinai Desert, Blue Desert, Atlantic Coastal Desert, and Libyan Desert (also called the Western Desert).

Some, like the Sahara and Kalahari, are massive stretches of land that dominate whole regions, while others, like the Atlantic Coastal Desert, are relatively small but equally unique.

Let me take you through two of the big amongst them.

The Sahara Desert

The Sahara is not only Africa’s most famous desert—it is the largest hot desert in the world and the third largest overall after Antarctica and the Arctic.

Covering about 9,200,000 square kilometres (3,600,000 sq mi)—comparable to the entire United States—it dominates much of North Africa.

Its boundaries are impressive:

• North: Mediterranean coast and the Atlas Mountains

• East: Red Sea

• West: Atlantic Ocean

• South: Sahel belt (a semi-arid region bridging the desert and Sub-Saharan savannas)

  Despite its reputation as barren, the Sahara hosts a surprisingly diverse flora of around 2,800 vascular plant species. In the central Sahara alone, over 500 plant species survive.

Adaptations include:

Acacia trees, palms, succulents, spiny shrubs, and grasses that store water in stems, grow low to resist wind, or send long roots horizontally to capture scarce moisture.

Many species can let their leaves dry out completely, only to recover when rains return.

The animal life is equally fascinating:

Mammals: fennec fox, pale fox, Rüppell’s fox, dorcas gazelle, addax (a desert antelope that can go a year without drinking), rhim gazelle, dama gazelle, and critically endangered Saharan cheetahs (fewer than 250 mature individuals left).

Birds: red-necked ostrich, African silverbill, black-faced firefinch.

Reptiles and others: sand vipers, monitor lizards, small desert crocodiles (Mauritania and Chad), hyrax, and deathstalker scorpions (venomous but rarely fatal to healthy adults).

Domesticated species: dromedary camels—beloved by nomads for endurance and speed—and goats.

The Sahara is not lifeless; it is an ecosystem shaped by survival, resilience, and delicate adaptation.

The Kalahari Desert

Further south lies the Kalahari, a semi-arid sandy savannah that stretches across 900,000 square kilometres (350,000 sq mi) of Botswana, Namibia, and South Africa.

Unlike the true deserts of the Namib or Sahara, the Kalahari supports richer vegetation and wildlife, thanks to slightly higher rainfall.

Key features include:

• Vast tracts of red sand dunes and dry valleys.

• The Okavango River, the only permanent river, which forms the lush Okavango Delta—a UNESCO World Heritage Site and one of the most wildlife-rich wetlands in the world.

• Ancient dry riverbeds (known locally as omuramba) that hold seasonal water.

• Iconic salt pans such as Makgadikgadi Pan (Botswana) and Etosha Pan (Namibia).

• Rainfall here varies from 110–200 mm (4.3–7.9 in) in the driest areas to over 500 mm (20 in) in wetter patches. After good rains, huge tracts of land transform into rich grazing zones.

  

  Wildlife once flourished in abundance—elephants, giraffes, lions, cheetahs, leopards, and countless migratory birds. Today, heavy cattle grazing and fencing disrupt many natural migrations, though predators and herbivores still roam.

  Geologically, the Kalahari is ancient: it came into existence around 60 million years ago, shaped alongside the formation of the African continent itself.
  

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  THE SAVANNAHS

While deserts represent Africa’s extremes of dryness, the continent is equally celebrated for its savannah ecosystems—endless grasslands dotted with acacias, alive with some of the greatest wildlife spectacles on Earth.

The Serengeti

The Serengeti is one of the world’s most iconic natural landscapes. This vast ecosystem spans 30,000 km² (12,000 sq mi) across northern Tanzania and south-western Kenya, where it is called the Maasai Mara.

What makes the Serengeti globally famous?

It hosts the largest terrestrial mammal migration in the world—the annual movement of over 1.5 million wildebeest, joined by hundreds of thousands of zebras, gazelles, and buffalos, in search of greener pastures. This migration is often described as the “Greatest Wildlife Show on Earth.”

It shelters one of the densest lion populations in Africa, making it one of the best places to observe these predators in their natural environment.

The Serengeti is astonishingly diverse:

• 70 large mammal species and over 500 bird species call it home.

• Habitats range from riverine forests and swamps to woodlands, grasslands, and rocky kopjes.

• Beyond wildlife, the Serengeti is a cultural landscape. The Maasai people live in and around the region, practicing semi-nomadic pastoralism and contributing to its rich human-ecological history.

  

Recognized as both a UNESCO World Heritage Site and one of the Seven Natural Wonders of Africa, the Serengeti continues to attract scientists, conservationists, and travelers worldwide.

The Sahel

Between the vast dryness of the Sahara Desert to the north and the lush savannahs to the south lies a fragile yet critical ecological belt: the Sahel.

Stretching like a ribbon across Africa from the Atlantic Ocean in the west (Senegal, Mauritania) to the Red Sea in the east (Sudan, Eritrea), the Sahel runs through more than a dozen countries, including Mali, Niger, Chad, and Burkina Faso.

The Sahel is a semi-arid tropical savannah zone, typically about 1,000 km (620 mi) wide, with a hot climate and highly variable rainfall.

Annual precipitation ranges from 100–600 mm (4–24 in), most of which falls in a brief summer rainy season. This rainfall is vital but unpredictable, making the region vulnerable to drought, desertification, and food insecurity.

Despite these challenges, the Sahel supports unique ecosystems:

Vegetation: thorny shrubs, acacia trees, grasses, and hardy crops such as millet and sorghum that can survive the short wet season.

Wildlife: Sahelian species include gazelles, jackals, hyenas, and migratory birds that rely on its wetlands. The region was once home to large herds of antelopes and even elephants, though many populations have declined due to human pressures.

The Sahel is not just an ecological zone—it is a cultural crossroads, historically home to great empires such as Mali, Songhai, and Kanem-Bornu, and still inhabited today by pastoralist groups like the Fulani and Tuareg, who depend on seasonal grazing for their herds.

Environmentally, the Sahel is at the frontline of climate change. Rising temperatures, shifting rainfall, and land overuse push the desert southward, threatening livelihoods.

Yet, projects like the Great Green Wall of Africa—an ambitious initiative to plant trees and restore degraded land across the Sahel—offer hope for revitalizing both nature and human communities.

In many ways, the Sahel is Africa’s ecological buffer zone: the narrow hinge that connects the arid Sahara to the fertile savannahs, making it indispensable in the continent’s environmental and cultural geography.


Phufff!

From the scorching sands of the Sahara, through the fragile semi-arid belt of the Sahel, to the life-sustaining Kalahari and the rolling grasslands of the Serengeti, Africa’s ecosystems reveal a continent of contrasts.

Each landscape carries stories of adaptation, resilience, and interconnected life.

Amid global environmental challenges, these wonders remind us that Africa is not only a land of human history but also a living stage of natural marvels that the world cannot afford to overlook.

What are other ecosystems you’d like to read about?

What are other facts missing out here?

Leave a comment

May no mystery remain unravelled.

Aswagaawy…. the toothpick that walks like man

Here's what I have for you:

•Ẹ kú ewu ọmọ

•What goes on in the minds of babies?

1. Ẹ kú ewu ọmọ

When a woman is relieved of the burden of pregnancy and she delivers the baby, the Yorùbá, in their reputation for perfect address, wishes the woman, and almost always the husband and relatives, Ẹ kú ewu ọmọ.

This literally means “Well done on surviving the dangers of childbirth.” Unlike the common “Congratulations on the safe delivery”, this Yorùbá greeting or wish is a mix of sympathy, relief, and congratulations. It acknowledges both the risk endured and the joy of new life.

Who survived the danger? The mother of course.

The changes in her body. The pain. The cramps. The labour pain. The tremor that burns and aches through that baby's pathway to life. The sharp knifes and the crazy medications to be administered. All these alone justifies the 'mother' singsong of the world.

But the Yorùbá recognizes that fathers went through burdens through the pregnancy period. It is a mental and physical tussle observing the changes in your wife, from light to heaviness. The stress of caretaking, of sometimes frequenting the hospital, of sleeplessness, of not just the unexpected financial demands day in day out, but also the emotional punches.

Yorùbá knows that the father also watches the infant head when sleeping on the cradle bed. That fathers get emotionally attached to their children and worry about them. That fathers, who know that having something is to risk losing it, also bear the fear of the child dying. That upon the birthing of the child, the father is also delivered of his own heartful pregnancy. So, they wish fathers too 'ẹ ku ewu ọmọ.'

From tiny kicks to big giggles, our world got brighter one year ago when we had Adnan, who I fondly call Aboki. We are today in the celebration mood, so I won't talk much about my wife's trouble through pregnancy and her labour. Friends, it is indeed labour. It is called labour for a reason... I'm happy for her, that in all her fragility, she came through. Childbirth is a thing that alters woman's being forever, and I pray that every alteration brings joy to her, Arikẹ, in the end.

Maybe someday, I'll talk about my trouble through the times. My fears. My tears. My restlessness. And how the experience is like a brute force attack on man's being. In all the vulnerability, I pray that Aboki keeps being the coolness of my eyes.

Happy 1st birthday, son, this Saturday, 23rd August, 2025.

2. What goes on in the minds of babies?

Whenever I play with Aboki for a very long time, or I watch him play alone around the house, I wondered what goes on in his mind. By extension, I asked myself: What goes on in the minds of babies? In that state of theirs, what does consciousness feel like? They are born in clean slate, tabula rasa, how does their surrounding alter the slate into awareness?

Barely 2 months, my son already knew me. When he was 4 months old, we had started playing much more together. Unlike when I'd be the one trying to engage him, he had started trying to get attention. He would laugh, giggle, smile. I use to wonder how he has become aware of his environment.

When he saw me, he already knew that it's me, at 4 months. Like, if he was crying in people's arms and I retrieved him from them, he stopped crying and sometimes began to laugh. Sometimes, he'd extend his hands towards me. He knew me already at 4 month, just like my cat, Pàsó, knew me. And now that he is one year old, and can already call Bàbá, and sometimes Daddy, he knows me even better.

And then, I ask, God forbid that I die today, will my son still know me as he grows? Will he remember me when he grows up? As in, can he recall our playful moments, of laughs, tickles, giggles, and all that? When do their complete awareness and full consciousness begin?

For me, I can recall what happened to me as far as around my 3 years of age. I think having photograph sessions of the events helped me with retaining the events in my mind. There is a particular picture of me and my twinnie at 3. I can clearly recall how I dressed up for the shoot, walked out of the room, climbed a table and posed for the picture. In fact, I can remember the photographer—Iya Sheu, who was our family photographer for years.

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Away from sweet moments captured in photographs, there were events that came from pain. So intense that they are etched in my memory for life:

• Like the time I had a swelled up buttock from injection. I recall how the dangerously shiny instruments were assembled: knives, scissors, and whatever they are called. And how they are made to get rid of the purs that grow in my buttock.

• Like the day I poured a sugar-looking alchemy in my mouth.

• Like when broomsticks assembled on a halved piece of sugarcane was beaten into my ears, I can still see myself running upstairs to meet my parent. It seems I still have that damn broom in my ear.

• Like the day I vomitted from nursery class on my way back home. My uniform short, burdened by vomit, I carried it halfway home before someone helped wash it and wiped my face.

• Like the day I had a 10 kobo coin in my mouth and climbed on my brother for the "ẹṣin kùtàkùtà" game, and suddenly, the coin slipped in my throat. I went through hell. When Dad returned almost some minutes later, even as I was afraid of telling him what actually happened, my reddened eyes was a great concern. I think I told him I was pepper-chocked. He added milk to his pap and asked me to drink. When he was going back out, he left me with "Mummy nurse" to cater for me, who gave me a container of a chewable tablets to chew.

But why can't we recall periods from 8 months to 2 years old. For instance, I can't recall my father lifting me up and laughing at me at that age. I sure know he'd have done that a lot of time. Although I would later know that father didn't always like to carry infants due to their fragile self and the fear of manhandling them, I also know the he was fond of kids, and his own children. Even at 30, he'd still sing for me (sort of lullaby) whenever we speak on phone, or I visit. So even if he won't be lifting me in his hands, I'm sure he would be lulling me and playing with me. But I can't picture that.

Friend, can you recall or have you seen anyone who can truly recall events of himself when he was 2 years old or below? Cuz, when I see my pictures of times before 2 years old, I could not remember how they happened.

My Philosophy: Taking pictures of certain events is helpful. I think it sharpens memory. It will help kids recall events, or help them retain the events in their memories, thereby rubbing off on their studies and critical endeavours.

What do you think?

Do you agree with me?

What preteen experience would you love to talk about?

Share in the comment.

Ọdàbọ̀, kó si àdìtú tí a kì í tú.

(Farewell, and may no mystery remain unsolved.)

ASWAGAAWY

the toothpick that walks like a man

It is often said that different places have different cultures. Sometimes, we discover similitude in the culture and tradition of different people, but other times, there are weird discrepancies.

Just as the salt that tastes good on the cow's tongue is poison to the snail, and toxic on earthworms.

Humans use many body parts to pass messages, but the hands take the crown.

Almost everywhere, clenching your fist with the middle finger up screams the “F” word. And two fingers in a “V” shape? That’s often called the "peace" sign or "Victory" sign.

In Nigeria, it has also symbolised "democracy," thanks to M.K.O. Abiola, who used it often in campaign photos. His June 12, 1993 electoral victory that was later annulled is now honoured as Nigeria’s Democracy Day.

However, in Europe, the interpretation depends heavily on the palm orientation.

It will only mean "peace" or "victory" when the palm is facing outward. But when the palm faces inward, it is received as been offensive. In that state, it is interpreted to be equivalent to the middle finger.

V fingers + palm outward → Peace or victory.

V fingers + palm inward → An insult, F word.

This negative interpretation dated back to at least 1900. It has been referred to as the reversed V sign.

In the above picture of Winston Churchill, British Prime Minister, the victory V sign was used in 1943 to indicate "victory", which was widely used when the Allies won World War II.

In this picture, offence was actually not intended. It was said to be used innocently, and out of unawareness of its negative interpretation. Or, say it wasn't a widely accepted interpretation in that part of Europe.

Some incidents where the reversed V sign was frowned upon:

• In 1971, show-jumper Harvey Smith was disqualified for making a televised V-sign to judges after winning the British Show Jumping Derby. But his victory was reinstated two days later after he claimed it was intended to be a “Victory” sign.

• In 1990, British tabloid The Sun ran the headline “Up Yours, Delors” with a photo of a Union Jack–clad arm making the V-sign toward Jacques Delors, head of the European Commission. This was widely rejected and criticised as been anti-French and francophobic. But the UK Press Council ruled it was within the paper’s right to use rude language in defending British interests.

• In April 2009, Scottish footballers Barry Ferguson and Allan McGregor were banned from the national team for making a rude V sign during a match against Iceland, following an earlier breach of discipline for drinking late after a loss to the Netherlands. Rangers fined them both and stripped Ferguson of the captaincy.

In any event, when next you visit Europe, get a culture book handy or a get a tour guide on your side.

This is because some visitors unknowingly offend locals by using the “two-fingered salute,” such as when ordering drinks.

An example of this was in 1992, when U.S. President George Bush accidentally gave the insulting V sign to protesting farmers in Canberra, Australia, while actually intending a peace sign.

Let's take a look at things to be wary of when you visit Europe:

• When you're offered lunch, don't reject it. They take it as offensive and abusive as anything.

• When you're been taken as a good friend, take your time to introduce yourself when the question "How are you?" is been put to you. The Western equivalent response of “fine, thanks” may be seen as rude and dismissive.

• When answering a question in conversations with Russians, especially friends, be sure that you’re prepared to answer in a little more detail than what you may be used to.

• Don't be too excited to use the swear word. Swear words in Russian also aren’t viewed positively, so they are something else to avoid

• The OK sign means approval in the West but may be insulting in France, and Germany by which you are calling the other person "a big zero" or "a real loser."

• The #1 sign (index finger up) means “first” in the West but could be rude and mean the middle finger in Greece, Russia, and the Middle East.

• The horns gesture is linked to rock music in the U.S. but implies an invitation to or accusation of infidelity in Italy and Portugal.

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But Europe is not that weird. It is the same with many other places where they have their own variations of interpretations of things.

The above interpretations are also almost applicable in some part of America, such as Brazil and Canada.

Pointing the index finger at someone is rude in many cultures, but may not be so in Europe. That's why in Africa, or Nigeria, we prefer to point at someone with the lips, than to point fingers at them.

Also, handshakes may be inappropriate in cultures where physical contact is discouraged, especially with the opposite gender.

So this discussion does not mean Europe is a delicate place to visit, there are many things you'll find pleasurable, particularly their general welcoming gesture to guests.

Above all, it is always a good idea to be mindful of local customs and gestures to avoid misunderstandings.

Friends, shall we go to Europe?

Have you experienced any culture shock anywhere before?

Share in the comment section.

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Odàbọ̀, kó si àdìtú tí a kì í tú.

(Farewell, and may no mystery remain unsolved.)

source: Yabai, Freepik, Wikipedia, Fork Union

In the anatomy of fire, there are fires that rage. Fires that ruin. Fires that silence homes, forests, even futures.

But there are other kinds of fire.

Some fires are cleansing. Others are announcing. That is to say, not every fire leaves ashes. Some leave light.

If it burns but does not consume you, it is a calling: the quiet burn, the holy glow, the flame that purifies instead of consumes.

What you'll read:

• The languages of fire

• Fire in Yorùbá parables

• Some fires are cleansing

• Some fires are announcing

1. The languages of fire

In Yorùbá parlance, fire—iná— is more than heat, it is life, it is transformation.

And I am often amazed at how its purpose changes through usage, how it is being used in various context to mean different things.

i. Electricity

When power comes up, as in electricity, we say "wọn ti mu'na de" which is supposed to implies "they've brought the light". But why do we use "ina" which is fire, and not "imọlẹ" which means "light"? In the direct interpretation, we just said "they've brought fire".

But Yorùbá uses iná to mean both fire and light. Because, I think, when fire is ignited, brightness comes up. Light arrives.

ii. Oppression

Hey! The poetry line of Hussain Ahmed comes to mind: “This globe is full of darkness and the only lit places are burning.” And this takes us to Palestine, Gaza, Ukraine, and those burnt by fire of oppression.

iii. Burning itches

Ina èsìsì o gbọdọ jo ni lẹẹmeji, that is, the fire of stinging nettle leaf does not burn one twice.

Werepe a fi gbogbo ara jó ni wai-wai, meaning “the devil bean, one that burns deeply with its whole body.”

While werepe, the devil bean, stings fiercely, the stinging nettle leaf gives more burning sensation. So, either of them burn you, you'll identify it. And once bitten, twice shy.

iv. Burning desire

This is a fire that birthes you like the heat that cracks eggs in the hatchery. Whether under the hen, or beneath the sand by the beach.

We can call this "iná inú", the internal fire, the burning desire, the iron will.

Sometimes, this is how I feel with poetry. Its fire burn in my heart. It's the urge to pen a thought. And it makes one restless. I won’t find peace until at least a line is delivered.

And once that is done, like a quenched fire, my heart feels lighter. My mind, clearer.

v. When fire is an attitude

When fire is an attitude and not a habit, it is dangerous. If it is a habit, that is fire that announces, and you'll read that in the following section.

But as an attitude, it burns fiercely. It is anger. It destroys.

The prophet Muhammad (pbuh) put it succinctly when he said: "Anger is from shaytan, and shaytan was created from fire. So when any of you is angry, then bathe."

In some explanations, they ask you to perform ablution, or drink water, or simply mutter: I seek refuge in Allah from the accursed shaytan.

Anger (ire) is what Ngugi wa Thing'o refers to in his book "Wizard of the Crow" when he writes: "This is believed to be the source of the Aburirian saying that ire is more corrosive than fire, for it once eroded the soul of a Ruler."

2. Fire in Yorùbá parables

I earlier mentioned that the purpose of fire changes through usage, and that it means different things in various context.

Let's examine that through the eyes of parables:

1. “Bí iná bá jóni, tó jó ọmọ ẹni, tara ẹni là ń kọ́ọ́ gbọ̀n.”

“If fire burns one, and burns one’s child, we first extinguish the one on our body.”

This implies the urgency of experience. That is, we attend to our own needs or crises before helping others, no matter the closeness. Self-healing is the first act of wisdom.

2. “Bí iná bá jó lóko, màjálà á wálé wá sọ.”

“When fire burns in the farm, the soot comes home to announce.”

This is to say, no event is remote. Whether personal or societal, consequences affect everyone. It could also mean nothing is hidden for long. With time, it is revealed.

3. “Iná kì í wọ odò kó rójú ṣayé.”

“Fire does not enter a stream and expect to survive.”

Not every fire is meant for us. Discernment is self-preservation. Don't fight people's battle. Don't inherit their enemies. Don’t take on dangers you cannot withstand.

4. “Iná èsìsì kì í jóni lẹ́ẹ́mejì.”

“The fire of stinging nettle leaf does not burn the same person twice.”

Wisdom grows from pain. Each burn is a teacher. We learn, adapt, and importantly avoid repeating the same mistake. Lesson is learnt in the first experience. And yes, mistake is portal of discovery.

5. “Ilé ọba t’ó jó, ẹwà ló bù si.”

“The king’s house that burns, only adds beauty to it.”

Sometimes destruction is a passage to something more beautiful. Loss can be a form of rebirth. Well, especially when there is a backup. Or where there is will.

6. “A kìí finá s'ori òrùlé sùn.”

“We don't leave fire on the roof and go to sleep.”

Delay can be defeating, or destructive. When there's an imminent danger, it is best to address it with utmost urgency and not postpone it. Procrastination is dangerous.

7. “Ọmọ iná là ń rán s'íná”

“It is the fire's offspring that we send to fire”

When a particular challenge arises, it is solution of its kind that we adopt. Sometimes life asks for patience, other times for fire. It asks is to face the challenge with more fire, and we burn to become light.

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8. “Iná ọmọ ò r'ara.”

“The fire of one's child does not singe.”

We often overlook the misdeeds of the people close to us. Or say directly, the struggle for one's lover is mostly endured, unlike if it were to be for someone else.

9. “Àfopiná tóní òun ó pa fìtìlà, ara ẹ ni yóò pa.”

“A moth that threatens to quench the fire in a lamp will only kill itself.”

Someone who challenges a force greater than themselves, without wisdom or restraint, will only bring about their own destruction. See yourself as the lamp. Anyone seeking to quench the fire of your progress, will die.

10. “Bí a bá ní bí ejò ṣe gùn la ṣe fẹ dá'ná ẹ̀, à á dá'ná sun'lé.”

“If we consider the length of a snake to prepare its fire, we will burn the house."

We don't kill an ant with a sledgehammer. If we attempt to solve a problem with an approach that's more than it, we may get everything destroyed. Also, overanalyzing a threat without quick action is unwise.

11. “Ojú tí kò rí yànnà yánná iná, yẹ̀rẹ̀ yẹrẹ oòrùn, kì í rí yìndìn yindin idẹ.”

“The eyes that does not experience the blaze of fire, and the heat of the sun, will not enjoy the glitter of brass.”

If one doesn't work hard because of the pain involved, he won't reap the benefit and gain that comes out of it. One cannot truly appreciate success without first enduring struggle.

12. “Apọju iná lo n ba ọbẹ arà oko jẹ.”

“Too much fire ruins the stew of a bushman”

Anyone who is not careful or knowledgeable in a particular endeavor, may destroy the whole thing with recklessness and ignorance.

13. "Iná kìíjó kí ògiri sá" or "Iná ń jó ògiri ò sá"

Fire does not rage and cause a wall to flee.

Some things are not affected by some dangers. It could also mean vulnerability, even if it affects them, they do not have the might to flee.

14. "B'íná ò bá l’áwo nínú, kìí gun òkè odò.”

"If a fire is not endowed with mysterious
powers, it does not jump rivers."

Some events do not happen, unless they are driven by unusual forces. Extraordinary outcomes often arise from hidden strengths or forces beyond the ordinary.

15. “Omodé kì ní iná nìlé kí tòde má jo.”

“A child does not have fire at home and not get burnt by the one away.”

We don't get used to pain. The fact that you have gone through it before or currently experiences it, doesn't mean you won't feel it if it happens again.

3. Some fires are cleansing

They are cleansing because, though they burn, they leave us lighter. Like the fire of the blacksmith. It melts. It rages. But in the end, it brings clarity.

Yes, it came with heartbreak, grief, solitude. But the harshness in this sort of fire does not destroy you, it detoxifies you.

The fire that took my father was cleansing. It took him away. It strips me of the man I called father. But in time, it also cleanses me of illusions of forevering. It recalibrates my values of fatherhood. What it makes of me is what truly matters.

To some, their fire is a business loss. Their dream dies. The flame of failure burns their ego. But it also purifies their process. What survives that fire is wisdom.

To some, solitude and loneliness is the fire that scorches them. But in this environment, the noise goes. The masks melt. They begin to see themselves, raw and honest. They see their capabilities. In the process of finding how to eschew solitude, they discover passion, interest, dream.

So, fires that cleanse expose false identities, expectations, and attachments; burn away distractions until only the essence remains; force rebirth like a forest fire that makes space for fresh life to grow.

At least, for those who see things from that perspective. Or, who experience it that way.

The Yorùbá says "Ilé ọba tó jọ́, ẹwà ló bù kun" — "The fire that burns the palace adds beauty to it."

And I am father's ashes after the fire of death burned him.

4. Some fires are announcing.

These are the fires that signal purpose. They don’t arrive to take away anything. They arrive to illuminate something. An awakening. A call. A shift in your story.

You may feel restless, excited, even anxious, and burdened by an idea or vision you can’t unsee.

Wonder why passion is used in proximal with fire: let the fire of passion burns; the poet expressed his burning passion for the woman he loved.

Maybe fire is synonymous to passion— Passion is the "Biblical" writings that list the sufferings of Jesus on the Cross.

In any event, we rarely speak of this fire. Yet, it is this fire that wakes us in the night, that helps us wrestle with circumstances, that becomes an habit, that happens to us the times we think we are breaking, but are actually being forged.

They are announcing because they bring revelation—not often spiritual, or deeply divine, but eye-opening.

This happens to artists often. Call it creative urgency: you feel like something must be written, painted, shared. It nags at your soul. That’s the fire of announcement.

In your spiritual sojourn, you begin to question, to seek, to pray in a new language of longing. That fire is announcing a new level of spiritual evolution.

Or, a moral burden when you can no longer watch injustice in silence. You don't just want to correct it with prayers and wishes.

A fire builds in your chest to write, to speak, not caring about the repercussion. That flame is announcing your role as a voice.

In the end...

This is not to say every burning is holy. Some fires must be put out.

But how do you know the difference?

Listen!

By listening.

If the fire inside you makes you bitter, it is not your fire. It could be anger. Hatred.

But if it burns away your ego, fear, or shame—and all that remains is truth, calling, and courage—then don’t run.

Tend it.
Feed it.
Follow it.

It is simply saying: “Wake up. There is more in you than you know.”

So now!

What comes to your mind when you think of fire?

What other proverbs or parables of fire do you know?

Share them all in the comment.

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Ọdàbọ̀, kó si àdìtú tí a kì í tú.
(Farewell, and may no mystery remain unsolved.)

Here's what I have for you:

•At the balcony of a hotel

•What's the legal argument?

•The Sentiment

•The Dream was snatched

•The Dream was won

•A Poem in Which a Lady Snatched my Future

•She enlived our future

At the balcony of a hotel

I stood and rested my arms on the railing of a staircase. TQ was on my right. The breeze was blowing into our speech as we relished our conversation.

It was a Saturday night in October. We were in Ibadan for the Nikkah of two of our brethren— the bride and the groom. The Nikkah is for the next day, but we had come ahead for the Diwan night.

Our conversation spanned spirituality, morals, and career. I was preparing for Law School at the time, and shared with him what we've heard about it.

I couldn't wait to resume, but I was equally anxious. The side talks and whispers on the grapevine painted a strict, almost terrifying picture of Law School:

• Once you step into campus, you are no longer in control of your life. You'll have to reprogram your life and follow the schedule religiously.

• It is part of the requirements to be called to the Bar to eat three statutory dinners. If you miss one, for any reason, you won't be called and would have to return the following year to take the dinner.

• Muslim sisters must put off their hijabs during the Dinner, opting to use a small scarf or a very portable hijab tucked into their shirts, at the Dinners.

• However, and unfortunately so, at the Call to Bar ceremony, they would have to leave it all bare—no hijab, no scarf, no portable hijab, nothing. Just hair.

I told him that for decades, our Muslim sisters entered that hall bareheaded. After all the years of study and expense, what parent would risk their child not being called to the Bar for refusing to uncover her hair?

Then I told him—half-serious, but fully-determined—that if no one would challenge this, I would test the law with my daughter or wife. She would study law and, when the time came, refuse to remove her hijab at the Call to Bar.

That way, we would have the locus standi to challenge the system and pursue the enforcement of her right to freedom of religion.

What's the Legal Argument

The Constitution of Nigeria guarantees freedom of religion and allows everyone to practice their faith.

For a Muslim woman, covering her hair is not optional—it is a core aspect of religious practice and identity. Asking her to remove her hijab at the Call to Bar is an infringement on that right.

No rule, law, or regulation can contradict or override the Constitution on any matter, not even on fundamental rights.

Section 38(1) of the 1999 Constitution of Federal Republic of Nigeria (as amended) provides:

This provision guarantees the right to religious freedom, including the freedom to practice and manifest one’s religion.

And it was central to Amasa Firdaus’s case, where it was argued that denying her the right to wear a hijab during the Call to Bar ceremony violated her constitutional right.

Interestingly, the no-hijab policy was never in any students' book or guidelines of the Council of Legal Education. It was merely a convention.

The Sentiment

I once had this discussion with a non-Muslim who argued and asked, "What if every religion chooses to wear their attire to Call to Bar or Court? Won't that affect the sanctity of the ceremony, or any courtroom?"

And I responded, "While that argument sounds brilliant, it is hypocritical and misplaced."

And these were my reasons:

• Celestial christians wear their white garments only to Church, or any special spiritual services at home or elsewhere.

• The same thing goes for Cherubim & Seraphim.

• Catholics have specific robes for mass or special events.

• Traditionalists—Sango, Osun, Ogun, and others—wear their attires only to their shrines and festivals.

• But a Muslim woman wears her hijab all the time. Every given time. Every damn time—at school, at work, at home, on the street.

It’s not ceremonial.

Whether she wears jilbab, shirt and trouser, buba and wrapper or any uniform, she adorns her hijab.

Unless she's alone or with fellow females or a male Mahram—like father, husband or siblings, she does not uncover her head.

So why, after wearing it from nursery, primary and secondary schools to university—and even throughout Law School—should it suddenly become a problem at the Call to Bar?

When I told TQ my plan to challenge this through my daughter or wife, he smiled. But for me, it became a dream. A goal. A target.

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The Dream was Snatched

Fast forward to December, some two months later, I was in law school. On 12th December 2017, our senior colleagues were being called to the Bar (It was suppose to be my call year too but we had a backlog issue at the University).

They form a queue and were filing in into the International Conference Centre, Abuja.

Muslim ladies were removing their hijabs, stuffing them into their bags. In that eerie atmosphere of confusion and embarrassment, they hurried their steps into the hall.

Amasa Firdaus could not take it.

So absurd. So awkward. She refused to remove her hijab. It was a moderate and portable hijab. But it didn't matter to the Staff.

How dare you?

So many before you have obeyed.

But they were not her. Although Islam allows the situation, under the doctrine of necessity, but this didn't feel right to her. It was not necessity but hypocrisy.

It felt more absurd that our Constitution frowns against infringement of fundamental right to practice one's religion. Then what irony was it that a 'law school' violated the law.

She was denied entry.

She was set aside.

I heard the news.

Tears rolled down my face.

I smiled.

I went into prostration. (I prayed for her. I knew it was a won battle. I was so sure. I was very sure).

I rushed to message TQ: someone is living my dream.

I picked my pen.

I started a poem.

The first line: "this lady snatched my future.."

Then it all went blank. I wrote tens of poems that year, but couldn't still find words to find expression for this particular poem, for this moment.

The Dream was Won

In June 2018, following public outcry and agitation by Muslim organisations and other non-Muslim rights advocates, the Body of Benchers approved the use of hijab at the Call to Bar.

Seven months after her denial, on 10th July 2018, Firdaus was finally called to the Bar. It was a victory—not just for her, but for every Nigerian Muslim woman who had ever faced that silent oppression, that 50+ years concerns.

The struggle didn’t start at the Call to Bar.

It began at the Dinners. Some attended the dinners bareheaded. Others tied scarves. But Firdaus wore her hijab to all three dinners. She was challenged, but she stood her ground.

Amasa Firdaus's words: “My major concern is the approval of Hijab so that every person coming behind me will be able to use it for the call to bar.”

And it's happening. Thousands of Muslim women have been called to the Bar since the victory.

In 2022, almost five years after that poem first stuttered in my pen, I finally completed it. I would later title it "A Poem in Which a Lady Snatched my Future."

A Poem in Which a Lady Snatched my Future

—for Amasa Firdaus

—by Taofeek Ayeyemi

In this poem, a Samson

did not have his hair cut–

man is a concierge of insinuations,

but had his dream cut

in a way that invites rain

before the clouds gather.

Here, a man wished to assemble

his wife/daughter in the mouth

of a storm to establish locus standi.

To gift a shirt, your wardrobe

should be overweighed by cloths.

That is to say,

you cannot occupy a space

if your body doesn't matter,

if your plaints lack an atom

of flight.

I drew a map towards a tunnel

leading inside a cave,

but before the storm rose,

this lady had planted her head

in its jaw;

her arms like atlas,

dull the points

of its mandible;

became a verb of struggle:

when you firdaused a storm,

it means you sipped the fuel

of its breath. Again, tonight,

I go into prostration and pledge

a poem for a wingless angel.

She enlivened our Future

Sometimes, the future we dream of will arrive before us—snatched by someone braver, someone ready.

And that, too, is beautiful.

It is no longer my daughter who must test the law.

It is no longer a plan.

It is already precedent—because a lady lived it, and made it a shared victory.

In Amasa Firdaus, we witnessed what it means to become a name that unlocks other names.

She did not just walk into history; she pried open a door too long shut by convention and fear.

Her action was not rebellion. It was a remembrance, that the Constitution breathes, that rights are not ornaments to be worn or removed at the whim of tradition.

Every society has its “Call to Bar”—those moments where the price of admission is the muting of identity.

But someone must ask: At what cost?

What is the cost of standing alone before a system?

What fire does it take to burn through silence, to make a name, not just for yourself, but for others coming behind you?

We must never let what is normal become numb to what is just.

Today, hijabs enter that hall without controversy. But it took a storm. It took a woman who walked into the storm.

What struggle are you going through?

What concerns trickle your mind?

What do you think about Firdaus’ won battle?

Let's discuss in the comment section.

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Ọdàbọ̀, kó si àdìtú tí a kì í tú.

Farewell, may no mystery remain unsolved.

—ASWAGAAWY

The toothpick that walks like a man

On the 17th of December, 2010, the air in Sidi Bouzid, Tunisia, was not filled with the fragrance of spring, but with the scent of burning flesh.

Mohamed Bouazizi—a 26-year-old fruit vendor, humiliated, slapped, and seized by municipal officers—poured petrol on his own body and lit a match. And from his body, a spark came alive. The Western media analyzed this with the events that follow, and named it the Arab Spring.

What kind of spring begins with smoke and ash?

Here's what you'll read:

The miseducation

Un-education

Re-education

The Spring is yet to Come

Revelations

• The miseducation

The term Arab Spring carries with it the gentle hope of rebirth. Spring is a season when flowers return, when farmers sow with confidence, when lovers meet under newly leafed trees. Spring is an invitation to live again.

But this was not that in the Arab nations.

What happened across North Africa and the Middle East in the wake of Bouazizi’s death was less of a blooming and more of a bursting. Protest after protest erupted. Tunisia bled into Egypt, into Libya, into Syria, into Yemen, into Bahrain.

Agitation was fueled, and the world applauded the people's audacity, boldness, and confidence from afar while the region cracked apart. People were made to do beyond their call for change, but to oust the tenure of their leaders, and sometimes get them killed.

Gaddafi's leadership was tagged Neocolonialism. Yet, after falling him, the promised democracy did not rise. Instead, what they experience, just like other Arab nations, were power vacuums, civil wars, foreign interventions—which eventually became systemic re-colonization.

The Western narrative painted pictures of youthful resistance, social media revolutionaries, and liberal awakenings. There were stories of hope, and yes, hope did rise. But it was quickly trampled by tanks and drone strikes.

• Un-education

Who benefits from this “Spring”?

The people at the centre, or on the hotspot of this Spring traded one tyranny for another. Or worse, for statelessness. In Libya, a country once whole is now a map torn into factions. In Syria, the scent of spring has long been drowned by the chemicals of war. In Egypt, what started as jubilation turned into yet another regime.

But the orchestrators, or sponsors?

They got spectacle.

As in, the West gained spectacle. Oil prices fluctuated. Arms deals rose, and Refugees crossed oceans. I will give a brief explanation of these below:

1. The West, primarily the United States, European nations and their allies gained spectacles by turning the Arab uprise into a media-driven narrative to serve their economic, political and strategics interest; to justify their intervention and mask their self-interest.

2. Western media outlets, such as CNN, and BBC provided wall-to-wall coverage of protests across the Arab Spring nations. Images of protesters are framed as icons of democratic triumph.

3. Western leaders used their media opportunity to amplify their own images as champions of democracy, and moral leaders; despite selective engagement. U.S was seen financing Egypt's protest and abandoning Bahrain's. They obviously prioritized strategic goals over human welfare.

4. They shift focus to foreign policy triumphs and distract the world from their domestic challenges, such as the lingering effects of the 2008 financial crisis, 9% of unemployment in the U.S. in 2011, and austerity measures in Europe.

5. Oil production in countries like Libya was disrupted, leading to price volatility. Brent crude oil prices peaked at $126 per barrel in April 2011, up from $80 in 2010, benefiting Western oil companies like ExxonMobil and BP.

6. The Stockholm International Peace Research Institute (SIPRI) reported a surge in arms imports to the Middle East post-2011. The U.S. arms sales to Saudi Arabia reached $90 billion between 2010 and 2015, partly to counterbalance Iran’s influence amid regional chaos. Western defense contractors, like Lockheed Martin and BAE Systems, profited significantly.

7. The fall of Libya’s Muammar Gaddafi and the weakening of Syria’s Bashar al-Assad aligned with U.S. and NATO strategic goals. NATO’s 2011 intervention in Libya secured Western influence over Libya’s oil and reduced a regional wildcard; which came at the cost of Libya’s stability.

8. Western organizations like NED and USAID expanded their influence by funding civil society groups and democracy promotion programs. NED’s budget for Middle East programs increased post-2011, with $2.3 million allocated to Egyptian NGOs in 2012 alone. This reinforced Western soft power under the guise of supporting democracy.

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   •Re-education

To call a thing by another name is sometimes to bury its true form beneath metaphor. Sometimes we misname a thing to mask its impact.

Language is not neutral. It does not merely reflect, it reshapes. It is easier to speak of a “Spring” than to own up to a destabilisation with global fingerprints.

The term's true form reflects a Western bias expecting Middle Eastern societies to emulate European democratic transitions. This bias ignores the region’s unique historical and cultural contexts and the diversity of demands across countries.

When actions give birth to year-long unrest, how do we call that a "Spring" and not "Winter", especially when the chilling effects is still strong more than a decade later.

Syria’s civil war has resulted in over 380,000 deaths and displaced more than half the population, while Libya remains divided between rival administrations. Does this not align better with the "Winter" postulation?

In fact, Spring's seasonal metaphor only suggests a temporary hopeful phase, which contrasts sharply with the prolonged violence and authoritarian resurgence in many countries.

• The Spring is yet to Come

We need no prophet to tell us it's not spring yet in the Arab nations.

The region bleeds every now and then.

But it will come.

—Empty prospect and promise

In the guise of getting a democratic government that promised freedom of expression, employment and economic growth, people are inspired and empowered and instigated to trump their country's leadership.

—What did the people really want?

What they wanted was freedom of speech, expression, absence of censorship—especially as it relates to internet usage, and employment.

Are there demand right? Yes.

The demands were very very relevant.

—But what did they get?

Have these been achieved 15 years later?

According to a Council on Foreign Relation's article, In no country has the standard of living significantly improved since the revolutions, and it has even declined in conflict-ravaged areas.

https://www.cfr.org/article/arab-spring-ten-years-whats-legacy-uprisings

• The power vacuums created by the Arab Spring allowed extremist groups to thrive.

• ISIS emerged in Syria and Iraq, capturing territory and resources, including oil fields, by 2014.

• The chaos in Libya also enabled Al-Qaeda affiliates to gain footholds, profiting from arms smuggling and instability.

• In countries like Libya and Yemen, local militias and warlords gained power by controlling resources and territories. For example, Libya’s rival factions profited from oil smuggling and human trafficking, exploiting the lack of central governance.

• Revelations

Harun Yahya's "The Winter of Islam and the Spring to Come," inspired this viewpoint.

However, it did not inspire the discussion—it's been 10 years that I got the book, but haven't read it.

As such, this is not even a religious discourse, it's a call for international humanitarian law respect. To call for the respect for individual country's sovereignty, against the West's imposed supremacy over other countries and international laws.

While I encourage patience, let's not enjoin passivity. This is a long, painful gestation of change, a season of darkness where light is gestating, and not extinguished.

As the Sufi saying goes: the rose does not complain of the thorn; it knows the pain is part of the bloom.

This is not the Spring, it is a Winter, but the Spring is coming.

What this discussion seeks to further reveal:

• The chaos in the North Africa and Middle East has external, Western influence;

• The danger of Western media and how it uses language to manipulates truth;

• There is need to unlearn these propaganda and reclaim our narratives, because it could be us next—West Africans or even Nigerians;

• Know that naming is framing, and framing is power.

So I say again:

There is no Arab Spring;

There is a fire that has not gone out;

There is a struggle that is not yet done;

There is a people misunderstood, misrepresented, misnamed, and miseducated;

There is a silence—heavy, intentional—around the consequences of that misnaming.

Let us not lie with words. Let us not mistake ash for bloom. A name carries one’s destiny. And he who misnames, misleads.

Call it what it is. And maybe, from that honest naming, a true spring may yet come.

From the perspective of this discourse, you should now understand the real intent behind the Israel-Iran war, Israel-Palestine war, Israel-Lebanon attack, Russia-Ukrain war, and the role played by countries like US and Saudi in these unrest.

What's your view about all of these?

Let's discuss in the comment.

Leave a comment

Odàbọ̀. Kó si àdìtú tí a kì í tú.

Farewell. May no mystery remain unsolved.

I write. I read. I think I read more than I write. But when I read, I found myself drifting towards nonfiction and poetry. And that's why I could make a list of novels I've read in my entire life. I can't bold of 30 novels. And that's the number of novels some people read annually, and some even 100.

But among the few that I've read, Broken by Fatima Bala had been a magical one. One thing that will make it memorable is that: I started reading it on a Saturday and completed it by Tuesday. 4 days for a novel of 371 pages. For someone who when he read the few he had read, one took him an average of 4 weeks. And I must confess that the book is unputdownable.

God abeg. I don't want this post to be too long 🤲🏽😁

Here's what I have for you:

• Adnan bawo 😁

• A quick talk about styles

• The lovers named Insom & Niac

• You call it suspense, I call it surprises

• When I get to a new place, I try their foods

• The compromise of faith— grab & slip

• Intermissions + Intermissions + Fate = Adventures

• Knowing or meeting the Author made the book felt different

• Some quotes fron the book

• Adnan bawo 😁

When I read to where Afreen said “Oh gosh, I’m such a mess. Everything is a mess! And now, with Adnan in the mix –”; I was like: "Haa! Adnan keh. Adnan bawo." 😁

I've known the great Adnan, progenitor of the Prophet (SAW). Then the fantastic Adnan Oktar (Harun Yahya), and Adnan Menk, brother of Mufti Menk.

And I was eager to know what character the Adnan in this novel is. This is because my son is named Adnan. And most of the persons I mentioned above are whom I picture for him to emulate. Go find out who that is in the book.

• A quick talk about styles

Fatima’s prose is lyrical without being preachy, and she handles religious matters with care. With enormous care. And, you can tell she understands the community she's writing from—and isn't afraid to prod its quiet hypocrisies. Her writing feels like a secret voicenote from a friend who knows better.

I've read novels that are chapterized with dates. I've seen some with names of characters. And I've seen those with subtitles. Fatima Bala uses all in Broken.

And I loved her style of translating non-English words, mostly Hausa and Arabic, particularly how the translations follow the original language immediately, and are not put in brackets.

And then at a point, she started interchanging the narrators: sometimes first person, other times second/third person.

And yes, this is a romance. There are moments you whisper “Astaghfirullah” under your breath. Some scenes just had me clutching to my tasbih. 😁 Fatima Bala looked at halal romance and said: what if we just... didn't?

So, truly, don’t expect halal romance wrapped in nikah proposals. Just expect to read about two people trying to navigate love with one hand on the Qur’an and the other on their emotional damage.

• The lovers named Insom & Niac

It all began with two stumbles: one around a bookstore, and the other in his parent's room. When we stumble, we struggle to not fall. But these lovers did not. They fell, for each other, and in love. They did not want to rise, but the friction of fate and faith dragged them up from that fall.

The novel follows Faiza and Ahmad, two people flailing in the same emotional torrent but on opposite theological axes. Faiza is devout, private, and full of the kind of self-discipline that turns Instagram off during Ramadan. Ahmad, on the other hand, is liberal, charming, and just self-aware enough to be dangerous. When their paths cross, the story became a volcanic eruption—and gradually simmers, slowly, painfully into a slight tremor, into one very not halal situationship.

One time during their late night chats, Ahmad said Faizah is insomniac because it seems she doesn't sleep. From then, he started calling Faizah "Insom". Later on, we found Faizah saving Ahmad's phone number as "Niac." 😁 Their chemistry was simmering, like a chai left too long on the stove.

Between them, there is longing so intense you can smell the rosewater in their DMs. But in-between everything, we have spiritual guilt, society’s loud expectations, love trips, stumbles, and—true to the title—breaks.

Ahmad was a red flag, but in lowercase—just emotionally unavailable with a prayer mat.

• You call it suspense, I call it surprises

She has a way with suspense. You won't see it coming. You won't ever see it coming. It will just happen and catch you unexpectedly.

And the twists in the novel are enormous, and beautifully so.

One is the surprise visit by Ahmad to the Kaltume Nikkah 😊

Another is his strange appearance at the volunteer firm "Inn From the Cold"

Lastly— I do not want to share this, but there are many other surprises that will wow you more than this, but this really got me— one of my biggest surprises is the Cain Mosni Foundation discovery. It is a testament to how creative the author is. I'm sorry, I won't share it. Go read and find out yourself.

I changed my mind again. Ahmad wanted to be giving Faizah some financial assistance, but she refused it since there relationship had gone south. She went out seeking for sponsorship for her NGO. Luckily for her, she got about three and Cain Mosni foundation was the premium donor. One day, she inquired into the foundation and discovered that when you spell Cain Mosni from the back, it gives you Insom Niac, and that's when she discovered that the support have been coming from Ahmad.

Omoh. When I read to that point, I shouted Ahmad na weyrey 😁 I laughed hard. But I realized the crazy person is the author. Naming is a gift for Fatima Bala.

And it's actually a covenant. I call my wife "Ọrẹ wa" and my son "Aboki"; both meaning "Friend" in Yorùbá and Hausa languages respectively. I remember those who call me Èjìrẹ́, and the one I named Jonah because she sleeps a lot, unlike Insom who won't 😁 I remember Ihdina, name given to my father at zawiyah. Naming is something.

• Confessions

• When Ahmad and Faizah visited an art gallery, and talked about an artist Ezgi, it felt so real that I actually checked for Ezgi on Instagram 😁

• I got emotional 😭 At the first place, I struggled with my tears so it made me have catarrh. So at the second place, I had to allow the tears to flow. (My wife didn’t know about this 🙄)

• I love how these words were used in the book: manipulative or persuasive, and, instant and constant. And one of new words: rodeo.

And errrm, don’t read if you’re emotionally stable. You might start romanticizing sadness.😐

Omoh! It slap me across the chest with feeling. At a point, I was very eager to finish and review it. Then I began to feel like 'Broken' isn’t really the kind of story you review. It’s the kind you recover from.

But I've reviewed it, so you know what that is

• When I get to a new place, I try their foods

..and books are not exceptions—they say stories let us travel—and I've traveled in books. Broken took me straight into the kitchens, patios, and quietly complicated dinner tables of Canada.

There’s sushi and sashimi on neat platters. Espresso and cappuccino poured with care. Alfredi, gnocchi, smoked salmon bites dressed in shallot sauce and asiago cheese on crisp arugula. Quiche, croissants, Timbits, rigatoni—and bacon, always bacon, whispering at the edges of halal boundaries.

It’s not just the meals—it’s the mood. Broken is full of food as gesture, food as ritual, food as tension. It’s what’s served and what’s refused. It’s comfort, curiosity, compromise.

A little taste of the West through the eyes and conscience of someone still deciding what’s permissible, and what’s simply... desired. No dish is neutral here. Every bite is a boundary test. And that’s what makes it feel so real.

•What else to look out for

Look out for Afreen, my favourite person, one who asks questions and answers it herself.

Look for turaren wuta, and oud bakhoor.

Look out for culture: a critic said Fatima Bala showcased a big Northerner's wedding, the Kaltume Wedding in Canada, and did not share sufficient traditions. But for me, it needs not be sufficient, but should be adequate.

It is in the novel that I learnt about Kamu, catch the bride; kayan lefe, bridal gifts; atamfa, patterned fabric; gaisuwa, wedding introduction; gyaran jiki, local spa treatments often done for brides which include but not limited to halawa, a sticky sugar and lemon mix, and kurkum paste; saukan Qur’ani, Quranic recitations; the nikkah proper; and kai amarya, conveyance of the bride.

• The compromise of faith—grab & slip

CAVEAT: This part will read like sermon. Didactic. Pastoral. Preachy; And in the Islamic light. So you can skip it if you mind. But you'd love it if you read.

This is how darkness creeps into the heart: like a dot of biro on a plain sheet, the first would look normal, until you begin to count 10, 20, to 50 dots, and you'll realize how messy the sheet has become.

And we witness that in Faiza's life. One who cringes about how Afreen lied about going to the Central Library when of course they were going to the bakery; who murmured "haram" anytime an impermissible act was done; now became comfortable with such acts. Maybe not so comfortable, but found herself doing them even if her conscience will fight her later.

The defeat started from when Faizah said “We can’t be alone together.” And Ahmad responded: “Let me guess, your YouTube Muftis said that?”

Then, she found herself here:

Yes. That's it. Everyone wants to. Everyone is capable of it. Whatever tempts you is actually in your capacity to execute. If not, you won't even experience the temptation. You'll just see yourself escape little offences, and dive into the big big sins.

Here's her confession:

I could deny it as much as I wanted, but I was slowly falling deeper into sin, and the scary thing was that I was not even fighting it anymore.

And that's why Qur'an says: "La taqrabu zinna", that is "Don't go near zinna." It doesn't say do not do it. It says do not near it. By this, it's telling you to avoid an enabler. So, a little sign in someone who'd influence you badly, you should run away.

Faizah saw it:

I looked away. The tattoo, the haram relationship with his ex, the non-halal meals, And now, alcohol. What else is there? Are these all signs that he’s not the one for me? What am I doing with someone who lives like the laws of our religion don’t apply to him?

You know the situation when people approach some aspect of religion with logic. Ahmad is such person.

See, sometimes you follow it blindly because that's why it is religion. It may contradict logic, but what about reasoning?

But No. We all are selective in our obedience. We choose what we want to obey.

Here's the way forward:

Admitting you're wrong and not giving excuses. Don't try to justify your shortcomings.

We all are truly struggling. No one is better than the other. No one is even a lesser or greater Muslim. We are all Muslims. Our struggles only differ. And the story in Broken was spiritual warfare.

But beware: When people are telling you I like your kind of Muslim, then, you are getting finished. When they call you the liberal Muslim.

However, if you accept that you are a lesser Muslim and just fight your struggle— what makes you lesser, then you'll be better.

Faizah spoke of Ahmad's family: This family was more fluid and liberal than mine was, even though we shared the same identity – Muslim and Northern.

Let your family be magnanimous, but don't be indulgent. Don't be fluid and liberal. Be conservative and mild.

Above all, I think the author, Fatima Bala, shares our collective struggles in the novel. That we are not alone. It is an awareness. It is also a warning.

And don't say you'd change him or her. It may eventually happen that the other person will just influence you. Faizah did not even try to change Ahmad yet he picked some Sunnah. And he influenced her into doing things, too.

• Grabbing sunnah and letting it slip

The following are some traditions practiced in the book which I find relatable as a Muslim:

1. Saying salaam as they enter house

2. Exchange of gifts – between the Faiza's and Afreen's mothers

3. Monday and Thursday fasting

4. Minding your business

5. Picking dangerous substances from the road

But sorrow made let a sunnah slip off her grip: She dump half of her food in wastebasket. Ensuring that food is not wasted is a sunnah.

• Intermissions + Intermissions + Fate = Adventures

The elevator incident 🤦🏾‍♂️ My heart almost ran out of my chest. I thought the event before it was the intermission.

But the real intermission is elsewhere: what mallama zainab came to testify upon.

But then, the intermission de facto was in the adventure: two matters that have made Ahmad move about, one made him move from Kano to Niger to France to Suleja to Niamey to Minjibir; the other from Malaysia to Morocco.

The result of the second adventure is the intermission de facto.

But the thought of the fate of the result with the Justice is the intermission per se.

• Knowing or meeting the Author made the book felt different

As in, I didn't know why I was picturing Fatima Bala in Faizah. If the book is by a male author, I'll picture him in Ahmad. It became more funny since the story is set in Canada, where the author resides. But I later changed that viewpoint as I read on.

I met Fatima Bala at Ake Festival, 2024. We both were guests. While she had a book chat on "Broken", I was a Panelist and discussed "Documenting New Voices" in the company of Wale Lawal and Ainehi Edoro, while Timi Sanni hosted us.

It was awesome to see her nodded in affirmative to some of my submissions, here:

What they say about like minds, and when you're making sense to the intellectuals.

And yes, that's where I bought Broken and had it autographed.

When I shared about meeting her on X, she responded with a feedback on my activities:

She might likely be at the next Ake Festival for her newly republished book Hafusatu Bebi. Be on the lookout, and go get the book ahead of the event.

https://www.instagram.com/bookshop_101?igsh=cW9mejR5MWs3ZGc2

And if you've not read Broken, you need to go get it now.

https://www.instagram.com/spine_and_label?igsh=eW0yb2cxb2w0bWY5

• Some quotes from the book

There was a bulb hanging above that cast a shadow on the wall behind the pile of items, and it displayed a woman wearing a wide-brimmed hat, looking into the far horizon. It was spectacular. The element of surprise made it even more beautiful. “Shadow art,” Ahmad said, as he took in the awe on my face, “not everything is at it seems.”

A slight breeze that brushed past us took the flame off one of the candles between us. I watched as the ghost of smoke swirled upwards and wondered, like the candle, if our flame had gone away, if the relationship had now ended.

...the fibres of my reality became entangled with the webs of destiny and my little globe of a dream woven in happily-ever-after shattered into a tiny million pieces.

Every few seconds, his hands would reach up, holding up his phone to take a selfie, always sure to include a few white people in the background. 😂.

So yes, this is a failed review.

I do not want to be restricted by formal literary rules. I just want to reveal without revealing much. I didn’t even decide what I'd make of the book, but I finished the book with the strange ache of recognition. And that, I think, is a kind of success.

Broken is not a fairy tale. It’s a mirror that shows you the soft, messy bits of love in a world of rules, judgement, and genuine faith. You’ll cringe. You’ll relate. You’ll probably make wudu mid-chapter.

What struck me wasn’t the love story itself, but everything that hovered around it: the faith, the doubts, the guilt, the silence. And that's what make it a masterpiece. Fatima Bala did not come to play. She came to peel scabs.

If I'd rate, 10/10 would cry in wudu again.

If you like your fiction honest, Muslim, and just a little messy, Broken is worth the ache.

If you’ve ever loved someone in a way that made you second-guess your boundaries, your faith, or your entire personality—this one’s for you.

But read with care. And maybe a glass of water nearby. Or a tasbih.

Whichever helps first.

Do you like what you read today?

What would you like me to write about next?

Let's jaw-jaw in the comment.

Leave a comment

Ọdàbọ̀, kó si àdìtú tí a kì í tú.

Farewell, may no mystery remain unsolved.

I’ve published a chapbook of the poems I wrote in grief over his passing. I title the book “Some Stars Do Not Fall.” The poems helped me heal. Maybe there is truly something called fortitude. But it still aches to think about him—his struggle, his dreams, his wishes.

Most times, I feel life wasn’t fair to him. Fate is a bastard. But belief says accepting it is a part of faith.

When I was just beginning, when I was almost ready to return his care, death took him. Death could’ve allowed him just one more year, and I’d have been able to repay his kindness.

Omoh! I didn’t do anything. I was just a student all my life with him. Damn!

Here's what you’ll read:

•I live a part of my life for him

•Father allowed me to be soft

•I was a student all my life with him

• Fate is a disappointment to wishes

• Five poems from ‘Some Stars Do Not Fall

• I live a part of my life for him

I often tell people who are close to me that my devotion to Arabic and Islam, or say Da’wah, was my way of telling Dad: “I’m living your dream.” And that truly gave him joy.

Anytime I shared my exploits with him, or he heard about them from someone else, he would bask in their afterglow endlessly. But I still think it wasn’t enough.

Oftentimes, I’d bring him and Mum news of people bearing gifts for me, and shared with them. But again, it never felt like enough. This goes as far back as 2010.

I started “giving back” in 2004 when I did my Walimatul Qur’an. I came home with ₦3,000. Took ₦1,000 for myself, gave Dad and Mum ₦500 each, and split the remaining ₦1,000 among my siblings. But obviously, that wasn’t a real thing yet.

In 2010, I travelled to Ogombo in Eti Osa to give daily lectures throughout Ramadan. Yeah, you guessed right—I was still very young, barely 20. I came back with bagloads of gifts and money. I gave Dad and Mum equally of whatever I brought (Sorry, I'm a rebellion of the 3-1 Sunnah for mother-father). But sincerely, it still wasn’t what I really wanted.

Before 2010, during Ramadan, I had been going from family to family for lectures across various streets in Sango Otta and Iyesi Otta. And during those times, before gaining admission to the University, I did my Haflatu Idadiyah (popularly called the “second walimah”).

When I got to University, Dad would always remind me not to forget the Qur’anic path. So I’d share videos of my activities with him—from MSSN (Muslim Students Society of Nigeria), to TIMSAN (Tijaniyah Muslim Students Association of Nigeria), NAMLAS (National Association of Muslim Law Students), even JAMNAS (Jam’iyyat NasruLah al-Mubeen Society of Nigeria)—the society that took me to Ogombo.

I’d share with him my recitations of Diwan at Islamic events. I’d show him video clips or play voicenotes of my poetry renditions. And if you looked into Dad’s eyes, you’d see crystals of bliss sparkling. Because—why not—I was (and still am) living his dream.

Na me wan be lawyer. Friends, Alfa (Islamic scholar/cleric) is what he wanted me to be, while supporting my own ‘lawyer’ dream. And writing is a gift from God.

And it was never about the once-in-a-while gifts I came home with from my performance at Islamic events. I was just being a good boy who thought: “When I become bigger, I’ll do bigger things for them.” It was about this for him: Father served Alfas due to his love for them and the religion, and wanted his own child to be one, too. And I lived and still am living that “Alfa” life for him.

I give public lectures, deliver Eid and Jumat sermons, and sometimes will interpret sermons for my Ustaz. I'm often been invited for Diwan / Dhikr rendition. It's important to state that more than being a joyful experience for Dad, they are all for me acts of worship and service to Allah.

• Father allowed me to be soft

Deep down, I wanted to become a lawyer. I wanted to grow and have enough to care for him the way he cared for me.

What did he do?

Father allowed me to be soft. He never said: “Be strong, you’re a boy.” Instead, he would dive into my problems and experience them with me.

Once, I got 9/10 in a classwork in Nursery 3. I told my teacher, Mrs. Owolabi, I deserved 10/10, but she insisted 9 was correct. I got home and told Dad. The next day, he followed me to school. Mrs. Owolabi checked again and apologized. She corrected it to 10/10.

Another time in Secondary School, I was wrongly accused of not paying my school fees. A teacher said, “These kids, they spend their fees on frivolities.” I got home and told Dad. The next day, he came with me and told them: “I trust my son. He doesn’t lie to me. All I need is to ask him once, and I never have to ask again. I’ll defend his truth to my last breath.” The teacher checked the records and realized I had paid. She apologized.

Once, a relative who lived with us accused me of stealing her money. I cried until Dad got back. He didn’t even ask me any questions. He went straight to her: “Never say such about my son again.”

I was the only one who had the key to my parents’ cupboard. Once, Mum couldn’t find her mint ₦5 notes and suspected me. I wept bitterly that she didn’t trust me. I knew Dad would never have doubted. Later, she found the money in a bag she had used. She apologized. I returned the cupboard key to Dad and asked him to hand it back to mum. I instead requested the key to the TV console’s drawer to keep my own things. And he gave it.

•I was a student all my life with him

I didn’t do anything for Dad as much as I had wanted. I was a student all my life with him.

Sometimes when I returned from school and offered him money, he’d refuse, saying: “You’re still a student.” I’d insist it didn’t matter, but he wouldn’t accept it. So I’d hide the money in one of his worn caps, so he’d find it the next morning.

Father aged. He was sick for a long time. He was once even declared dead at the hospital, but I kept hitting his chest and he coughed back to life.

When he got better, he couldn’t work anymore. He relied on what Mum gave (thank you, Mum, for helping him hold on), some kind relatives, and some of my siblings. The rents from his two houses also helped a bit. I understood his status, and that’s why I would offer to gift him money even as a University student. Mum and my half-brother paid my school fees. My guardian and Ustaz—who gave me all the Ramadan lecture platforms—often support my feeding, while art and writing helped me hold body and soul together, among other hustles.

During my NYSC, I came home one Ileya and gave him money again. He didn’t want to take it until I explained that I was already working and the government gave us monthly allawee. Then he collected it—but not all. So, as usual, I hid the rest in one of his caps.

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Whenever I came home, I’d clip father’s nails, cut his hair, shave him. We’d gist and talk about his dreams. His house in Abeokuta has a mosque; he wanted the one in Ifọ to have one too. But where was the money?

He used to lament, with deep pain, that he couldn’t assist with my University education. And I’d tell him, “When you had, you did your best.” But he still wanted to do something. Everything he couldn’t do for his kids when his finances got bad, he still dreamed of doing in other ways. He dreamed of getting some big money, then call us and share it among us. He even considered selling part of the house in Ifọ to build the mosque and share the proceeds with his kids.

• fate is a disappointment to wishes

After NYSC, I was retained at my law firm in PH. Ironically, I was sending more money home as a Corper than when I started working. Moving back home didn't make sense to me until when I thought it would reunite me with Dad. And I started speeding up things.

And this was my plan: to secure a job back home before the 2020 Ileya festival that was already approaching, visit Dad fortnightly, bring him gifts, do his laundry, and cut his hair and nails—as usual.

I contacted lawyers in Abeokuta and got a job offer. I planned to leave Port Harcourt for good when I go home for Ileya and resume in the new office.

Dad’s phone was bad, so I always called him through Mum’s. I even had a new phone I intended to gift him when I got home. He had briefly fallen ill again. And I sent money for meds.

On the morning of 31st May, 2020—he had already gotten better and was stronger again—I asked to speak with him. I hadn’t heard from him in two days. I was told he was sleeping. At around 12pm, my half-brother got a call from home, and he looked me in the eyes and said: “Alfa. Daddy is dead.”

I was shattered. I felt disappointed. I felt unfulfilled, even embarrassed. And this was the reason behind the line in my poem “Adisa, or a Poem in Which I wear My father's skin” which reads: this poem is a tale / of how death displaced me, / of how fate is a disappointment to wishes. And it was my first grief poem upon his death.

When we last spoke, I had promised I’d be home for Ileya. I told him I’d now be working nearby and would be visiting regularly. Port Harcourt had always been a journey—I should’ve prayed qasr all those two years.

I didn’t do anything for Dad. I was just a student all my life with him. But I gave him joy—what must have even extended his lifetime to that time.

• Five Poems From ‘Some Stars Do Not Fall’

I’ll leave you with these five (5) poems from my chapbook. I hope they tell you deeper stories than I have here.

1. ADISA, OR A POEM IN WHICH I WEAR MY FATHER’S SKIN

2. REMINISCENCE

3. IN A TEMPLE OF TRIBUTE

4. LEGITIMATE

5. GLORY

If you'd love to get a copy or more of the book, send me an email at taofeekayeyemi@gmail.com or text me on WhatsApp via +2347035513533.

Right now, please do me a favour—say a prayer for my father. And thank you so much for that.

You can send wishes, prayers, remarks, and condolences in the comment box.

Leave a comment

Thank you 🤝

Hey, what's up?

No much intro today.

But I have interesting things to share with you.

Let's go right in.

Here's what I have for you:

•cutting of fingernails

•motherhood and parenting

•some crazy omens around timing

•the techy schoolgirl

•boys are not stones

•the art of naming things

•quotes

•extras

1. I cut my fingernails. Now, I have nothing to scratch my body.

I've been scratching all day, and I'm not feeling the touch.

This cutting was different because I got a guy who cuts fingernails as a service to help with it.

You know, the aboki's.

I've never tried to be helped with cutting before, not by someone close, not by the aboki's.

But I thought to attempt it this day.

It was a smooth cut. He sterilised the scissors. Washed the fingernails with soapy stuff.

But scraping my fingernails' surface was where I felt discomfort. It was harsh. And after all the scraping, I didn't like how they look, especially my hands.

But the cutting was neat and cute. I felt soft.

If, and only if, I'd try them again, I'll only do cutting. Scraping? No!!!

2. It was May 11, and it was International Mother's Day

A mother is a school. Some will say, she is an institution—which broadens the scope for me: to mean not only educational institution, but also moral, interpersonal and financial institution. And truly, I learnt most of these from my mum.

Happy Mother’s Day to the woman who has loved me through every stage, stumble, and success. You’ve taught me that love doesn’t have to be loud to be powerful, and I carry that with me every day. Thanks for always been there whenever we need you.

It's interesting to witness how my wife transitions from womanhood to motherhood, and doing it well.

Happy Mother's Day to my beloved wife, and mother of my Aboki. What is fatherhood without a strong mother that holds the home firmly. Thanks for your love and dedication to the family.

See, no one on earth and in heavens can love you like your mother.

In fact, no matter how intimately some people have adopted you, they can't love you like your parents will. Maybe only the Prophet Muhammad (peace and mercy of Allah be upon him) can. Especially if they have their own kids—these will man the rabbis scepter of their hearts, and you follow.

I've never seen anyone love me like my father.

No one has ever sacrificed for me like my mother.

Your mother might have her madness (permit me to use that word), but try to understand her.

That's not to say that there are no bad mothers. Wòó, oríṣiríṣi ìyá lò wà.

But if you have a good mother, or even a not-so-good mother, cherish her. Cherish her before she is no more (or before you are no more. cuz, life is crazy).

Someone asked the Prophet (pbuh) who deserves our goodness the most. The Prophet (pbuh) said "Your Mother." And the person asked "Who next?" The Prophet (pbuh) responded "Your Mother" for two more times, then said "Your father" the fourth time.

See how the best of mankind had implanted mother's love in our hearts even before we knew what Mother's Day is?

If you're an aspiring mother, a new mother or even still single, Unfiltered with Arike is a topnotch newsletter about motherhood experience, from pregnancy to breastfeeding and everything around it:

Go read and subscribe:

https://unfilteredwitharike.substack.com

Don't say I didn't do anything to help you.

Cheers 🥂

Mẹ́yìmi. Màámi. Máma, the different rhythms of calling mom. There are more other ways, but these ones were common. I use “were” because things have been anglicised today. Just as we now call grandmothers “grandma” instead of “Ìyá Àgbà.”

I was returning to Abeokuta from Lagos and was sat in the middle of two ladies. One Ibukun, the other Ajibike.

Somehow, my eyes caught Ajibike’s phone screen one of the times she was speaking with her mom. And I saw she saved her number as Mẹ́yìmi.

That was the craziest I've seen. We call my mum “Máma.” (Be attentive to the tonality). And I know people who call their mom “Màámi.”

But I've never seen people save their mum's phone number in any of these ways. If not “My Gold”, “Wura Mi,” or “Best Mother”, it will be “Mum” as in my own case. But Mẹ́yìmi, No! 😁

The ladies made me talk from Lagos to Abeokuta. Cuz, why not! Brainy discourses. We exchanged numbers, and I saved Ajibike’s phone number as Ajibike (Mẹ́yìmi). But I did not tell her about this at all, till date. Maybe she'd know if she reads this newsletter, and tell us in the comment why she choose that 😊

3. Is it only me?

Or, does it happen to everyone, too?

Have you observed that it is when you're in a hurry to get somewhere that unnecessary delays come your way?

Like, if you need to get somewhere by 09:00am, and you set out by 06:30am for the 1½ hour journey, things go on smoothly and you'll arrive timeously.

But once you set out late by 08:00am, rubbish things begin to happen that will get you even later than normal.

If the car engine belt did not cut, you'll begin to have a running stomach and spend the next 30 minutes in the toilet.

Sometimes, e be like village people at work, or some forces always waiting for such moment in order to work against you.

It happens almost all the time to me, whenever I set out late.

In case you've wondered why I arrive before time to events and invites, it's the workings of this fate. And if you've worried that I arrive too late, na this fate at play.

In short, it happened to me this week. Exactly what I narrated above.

And there's this thing about fellowship—making friends almost everywhere you go, it has salvaging benefits you'll enjoy expectedly.

My first time in that court, after I was done with my matter, I walked up to a lawyer. I asked if he resides within that jurisdiction, to which he answered in affirmative.

So this day, I chatted him and he was present in the court at the time. And I told him to hold my brief (that is, to address the court on my behalf when my matter is called).

Fortunately, my matter was still far on the list. And I arrived before it was my turn.

4. I met a techy schoolgirl,

as I stepped out of the Court building. She was chatting with a Corper.

I heard her say: I don't use ..... to run my code. You know, I work on react.j and the .... container works well for me...

The Corper cut in, and said: "what about ....."

To which she said, "I'm just starting out on ….." I didn't hear that clearly, but my brain programmed it to be Docker or Kubernetes.

The Corper asked a question, which I think was about dev., and she said, 'I don't know that.'

And the Corper went on to tell her the benefits of dev. and all that.

No be say a dey eavesdrop, but her mention of "react.j" and "container" got my attention. Especially kubernetes.

Like, Omoh. Something I knew just in 2023, a secondary school girl has known it at such tender age.

I've written well about managing applications on Kubernetes. So I have known containerised applications as a modern day result of software development. And many thanks to Kubernetes. It makes the orchestration of softwares very easy, from development to deployment.

Knowing about software development at her age is something, friends.

I must also add that she's better than me, in that I am a non-tech tech person, while she's a techy tech person.

And I wish her the very best in that journey.

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5. Boys are Not Stones

May 16 is the International Day of the Boy Child.

And I can't but appreciate those who push for this till it got recognised and fixed. Notable pioneer is Dr. Jerome Teelucksingh from Trinidad and Tobago.

Although not yet officially recognised by the United Nations—which showcases their thoughtlessness—it has been in practice since 2018.

I recall JCV curating annual anthologies for this purpose, to which I strongly lend my voice with my poems.

I have a poem titled “boys are not stones” in the Boys are Not Stones Anthology and “i want to look myself in the mirror and see a god” in the A Country of Broken Boys Anthology.

Before sharing these poems, I'll quickly state the purpose of the day.

Firstly, the International Boys Day is to recognise that boys' well-being matters and their challenges need to be catered for. It encourages us to appreciate the positive contributions the boys make to their communities and families.

Furthermore, the Day is a way to hold conversations around Boys’ concerns and raise awareness about their needs. It also emphasizes why society should be involved in helping to raise and support them.

Celebrated annually on May 16, starting from 2018, the Day has focused on various themes:

2018: "Stand up, Be heard, Be seen."

2019: "Supporting Boys, Reclaiming Our Heritage."

2020: "Empowering, guiding, and providing role models for a peaceful world."

2021: "Guiding the Boy Child: positively impacting the world."

2022: "Boosting Optimism, Restoring Self-worth."

2023: "Boys and Mental Health."

2024: "Cool Boys: Managing Anger and Aggression."

2025: "Building Self-esteem in Boys: Stand Up, Be Heard, Be Seen."

These themes highlight the importance of supporting boys' emotional, social, and mental health, as well as their potential to be positive contributors to society.

Boys are soft and tender like their female counterparts. Do not put burden on them. Do not pressurise them with unnecessary expectations. Offer them help, and raise them to be responsible and kind.

In my father's house, boys cook. We make the bed. We sweep. We weed the compound. In short, boys don't sit around while girls do house chores. In the same vein, boys are not burdened with what they can't do because they are males. And we are not booed for not doing that.

So, boys! May you have the courage to be whoever you want to be. Happy International Boys’ Day to you 🤝

6. The art of naming things.

I went to the Federal High Court, Abeokuta for filing. As we battle the network and traffic congestion on the remita site, a staff mentioned they now have a mosque behind the office building. Since it was time for Zuhr, I went for Salat. On getting there, I was urged to lead the congregation.

As I was returning to the Cashier's office, I saw a praying mantis on a flower.

Yoruba calls it "dákó-dákó."

The etymology of the English name is easily figured: its arms are folded in the shape of praying.

But why dákó-dákó?

Dákó-dákó literally translates to "pennis incisor."

And I wondered if the ant use to target human's pennis, or it was so named to scare kids away.

But further reasoning made me consider it might have emanated from the ant's arm's semblance with the shape of the local blade for incision.

Whichever it is, it is what it is because that's what we want it to be called. That's what its nomenclature dictated.

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•quotes

“[Motherhood is] one of the toughest jobs. Not so hard to have a child, if you are fortunate, even more blessed if they are healthy, but to bring them up to know love and the strength to be a happy, functioning adult in this tough world is no mean task. Add to that a mother who may have disabilities of her own.”

—Carina Barnett

"A mother’s love for her child is like nothing else in the world. It knows no law, no pity. It dares all things and crushes down remorselessly all that stands in its path."

— Agatha Christie

"A boy's story is the best story in the world."

— Charles Dickens

"A son is a promise that you will always have someone to love and protect."

— Unknown

"Boys will be boys, but good boys will be boys who grow up to be good men."

— Unknown

"The test of a civilization is the way that it cares for its helpless members."

— Pearl S. Buck

"He who has lost his roots is lost."

— African Proverb

•extras

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I came across the name sometime in 2017, and thought to share it with you in the light of culture and places.

Tangale is a vast community situated within Billiri Local Government Area of Gombe State. They are a tribe that spreads and are chiefly found in three local government areas of Gombe State, which are Kaltungo, Shongom and Billiri. Some narration includes the Akko local government area.

Mai // Chiefdom

Within the Tangale chiefdom, there are seven clans, and they are the Tangaltong, Tal, Kalmai, Todi, Banganje, Nathe and Billiri.

Each clan has a chief of its own, but the Mai Tangale, who is based in Billiri, serves as the paramount ruler of all the seven clans. He is the custodian of the Tangale culture and tradition, and decides cases among the clans on major issues, including border disputes and deaths.

Sixteen (16) princes had served as Mai Tangale and custodians of Tangale tradition and culture since 1295. The first paramount ruler of Tangale chiefdom was Mai Giu who ruled from 1295 to I360.

The current Mai Tangale is Malam Danladi Sanusi Maiyamba, and he is the 16th Mai Tangale.

The title Mai has been in use since their migration periods, to refer to the leader of the moving group.

Today two Mai stools exist in Tangale land; The Mai Tangale who is the paramount head of the Tangale West Chiefdom headquartered in Billiri of Billiri LGA and The Mai Kaltungo whose stool is located in Kaltungo, heading the eastern Tangale people of Kaltungo and Shongom LGAs.

Formation // Structure

Tangale got its name from 'Tangal,' a chief of the community who ruled from 1360 to 1445.

Tangal was said to be instrumental in organizing the clans under his reign and because of this, the people under him were referred to as the Tangale.

Tangale people were adherents of traditional religion, and lived in a group of hills. They were mostly idol/spirit worshipers and had spirits like Nanamudo (Mother of Death), and Yamba (the goddess of creation).

Even after embracing Christianity and Islam, as a result of immigration and colonialism, some Tangale people still observe their cultural rites. However, they are now predominantly Christian and a small percentage adhere to Islam and traditional religion.

In 1906, the British colonialists entered Tangale and this resulted into a long resistance and fierce battle. In the end, sometime in 1907—during the leadership of Mai Wanah, who was the 11th Mai Tangale— the Tangale people were brought under colonial rule.

The Tangale kingdom, otherwise called Maidom, was therefore a direct product of immigration, conglomeration and fusion of people and communities over time, a process that began as far back as the early 13th century AD.

Root // Origin

They are believed to have originated from Yemen, the southwestern part of the Arabian Peninsula. The Tangale people have several things in common with the Yemeni people, but there is a cultural deviation regarding some cultural rituals.

The Tangale forefathers journeyed from Yemen and settled in different places before finally settling at the present place in Gombe. It was said to be a journey that took them about 350 years.

They also trace their movements to the Middle East, via Egypt, the Chad Basin and Ngazargamu, where they separated with their Kanuri kith and kin.

In the progression of their journey, they migrated alongside the Bolewa and other tribes from the Kanem-Bornu Empire—as they had to move from places such as Sanum kede and Kupto due to tribal wars—and are reported to have lived in the present day Gombe for over 100 years.

At Kupto, the Tangales lived together with the Lunguda, Kare-Kare, Tera, Waja, Bolewa, Songom and other neighbouring tribes. It was from Kupto that they further migrated to find a new settlement.

The various components of the Maidom settled in many other areas in the Gongola Basin before regrouping around the present day Tangale hills and the immediate plains, to found the seven clans of Tangale, which over time transformed into what is now the Tangale Kingdom (Maidom).

They often choose mountainous areas in their later movements since they felt were safer from the frequent raids and attacks they encountered from marauders.

Quick Notes // Tangale Affairs

• Yemen — Egypt — Borno — (Gombe)

• The Tangale language is a west chadic language, called Po Tangale or Po Mamu.

• Billiri has about six prominent markets and are often traded on Saturday of every week.

• Soya beans is one of the common foods in Billiri, then corn, sorghum, cowpea, peanuts, bambaranuts and sesame.

• Their cuisine include Dipo, Kumbam, Shaka kodo, Ronjo, Kar bayo—prepared with a special type of daddawa (locust beans) called Dwaldin; Robe-robe, Ed mammu, Kwaksak, Shinga.

• Adau (made from fried and ground sesame seasoned with potash) is especially common among the eastern Tangale people, the consumption of which is a necessary marriage rite.

• Mutton (goat meat) is a very important part of the Tangale dish as well as a variety of "bush meats"

• The native drinks of the Tangale people include; Am-shau, Am-dik-dik and Men which is a form of locally brewed beer.

• Popular fruits are Enji (pumpkin), Kanje (deleb palm fruit), Wulot (black plum), Landondon (blood plum), Kwalak (shea fruit) and La'awe.

• The ancient Tangale people were warriors, and adult males of Tangale showed their manhood by fighting.

• As proof of their courage, Tangale warriors were required to bring the heads of the enemy they had murdered with them upon returning from the battleground. These combat trophies were given to a priest, who placed them under the family's holy tree.

• Tangale people's festivals include Pissi Tangale (Tangale Day), ‘Bai’ Carnival/Palam Tangale (Dog festival), Eku festival, Tangra, Wula, Pe Kodok, Pand Kungo, with Pissi Tangale as the most popular.

Pissi Tangale // Tangale Day

Pissi Tangale, also called the "Tangale Day", is a festival where the Tangale people display their culture and technological advancement.

The festival was introduced by the 15th Mai Tangale, late Dr Abdu Buba Maisheru II, in 2006. It is aimed at promoting the Tangale culture and customs and to unite the Tangale people.

The Pissi Tangale used to have in attendance the Executive Governor of Gombe State, the Honourable Commissioner of Culture & Tourism, the Mai Tangale himself, the Wazirin Tangale, and other dignitaries and notable persons in Nigeria; particularly those coronated with chieftaincies in Tangale.

Often celebrated on the last Saturday of December every year, it is marked with the display of various farm produce, livestock, ancient cultural artefacts, traditional cuisines, cultural dresses and dances.

With cloths that depict their culture and identity, it's always all pomp and pageantry at Pissi Tangale, as Tangale people wear their various traditional attires to celebrate the day.

They also showcase the technological prowess they possess, even before the coming of colonialists. For instance, their building aesthetics and other things their forefathers lived upon.

During the festival proceeding, village heads from the seven clans that make up the Tangale chiefdom pay homage to the Mai Tangale, alongside other visiting traditional rulers from within and outside the township. Tangale sons and daughters across the globe often return home to celebrate Pissi Tangale.

In their culture, the Tangale month starts on the 10th month and it is called Kavrang. They hold the ceremony at the beginning of the new year, which is the Kavrang month.

However, the time Pissi Tangale is observed have changed to the Christmastide for the need to consider the attendance of their people living outside the land and country.

Hopes // Wishes . . . .

There is a tourist attraction at Kuma Tangale, where they have a statue of Mai Tangale sitting on his stool. There are some trees they've nurtured for decades, as well as some ancestral cloths kept in palaces and sacred places.

A Gombe State Governor, Alhaji Danjuma Goje, once mentioned at a Pissi Tangale festival in 2009 that the Tula cave which was used during the inter-tribal and ethnic wars in pre-colonial era could be preserved and transformed for tourism.

He also included the Sultan Attahiru’s tomb in Bormi, whose assassination by the colonial military force, according to some legends, brought about the final termination of Sokoto Caliphate’s existence.

He listed Dutsin Mamaki in Billiri and a host of others would form part of the treasures that would be adequately exploited for maximum result.

Ineptitude // Vendetta . . . .

Due to lack of sponsorship, political differences, and other challenges, Pissi Tangale has not held in the last five years, that is, since the current Mai Tangale was 'imposed' in 2021.

Following the death of Mai Abdu Buba Maisheru II, the kingmakers conducted their electoral process. In the kingmakers' vote, Dr. Musa Idris Maiyamba received 5 votes, while Malam Ahmed Magaji and Malam Danladi Sanusi each received 2 votes out of 18 contestants.

Unfortunately, the Gombe State Governor Muhammad Inuwa Yahaya appointed Malam Danladi Sanusi-Maiyamba as the new Mai Tangle.

This must have contributed to the hiatus in celebrating Pissi Tangale.

In any event, there is no gainsaying that Tangale is a solid heritage with rich culture, and the Pissi Tangale must have been a wonder festival to witness. One that will leave indelible marks in the minds of the attendants.

I hope that this momentous festival is restored, preserving Tangale’s history and good heritage.

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Or, is there a culture or place you'd like to know more about?

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Excerpt: NICO, Daily Trust, Wikipedia

In context, Joseph Blankson, a Nigerian contractor, was in a boat somewhere in Rivers State in 2018. The boat capsized, and as a swimmer, instead of swimming to safety alone, he saved 13 people from the river. But as he was trying to save the 14th person, he became exhausted of the going in and out of water, and tragically drowned.

Another one that often comes to my mind is of a Spanish runner, Ivan Fernandez Anaya, and a Kenyan runner, Abel Mutai during a cross-country race in Spain in 2012. As Abel who was leading the race approached the finishing line, he thought he has completed the race and slowed down. Ivan who was second in line realized Abel misunderstood the situation, so instead of taking advantage of that, he gestured Abel to finish the race and cross the line, while Ivan came second.

These are individual acts of kindness, borne out of selflessness and sportsmanship.

But what do we say about communal kindness? A nicety that spreads across the town, so vast that one can just slip into it and become a god.

One of such is the caffè sospeso—a strange but unique act of altruism.

Without much ado, caffè sospeso simply means "suspended coffee." Some loosely translates it as "pending coffee" or "pre-paid coffee" or "pay-it-forward coffee."

Originated from Naples, Italy, it is a situation where someone buys two cups of coffee but receive only one, leaving the second coffee "suspended" for someone else to enjoy later.

The idea is that anyone who cannot afford a coffee can enter the starbuck and ask the barista if there are any sospeso available, and if so, they can enjoy a warm beverage for free.

It started as an idea born during World War II in Naples at Gran Caffè Gambrinus in 1860, and became a tradition that spreads across the working-class cafés of Naples.

Post-war, many men in Naples who had lost their fortunes couldn't afford even a basic necessity like coffee, which was seen not as a luxury but a right. Those who could still afford it began the habit of paying for two coffees: one for themselves and one for whoever needed it next. The recipient remained anonymous, maintaining the dignity of both giver and receiver.

Sometimes, it is done as a form of showing gratitude, when someone had experienced a good luck, he would order a sospeso in generosity.

Luciano De Crescenzo says:

“When someone is happy in Naples, instead of paying a cup of coffee for himself, he just pays another one for someone else; it’s like offering a cup of coffee to the rest of the world.”

The sospeso receipt is often dropped in container of any kind, such as the ones above and below, to track the purchase or available suspended coffee.

Later recognized as a tradition of expressing solidarity and helping those struggling to afford even a simple coffee, it was practiced in other parts of Italy and even internationally, extending widely its Neapolitan roots.

Continuing or 'modern day' practice?

Although almost getting obsolete and waned during the economic prosperity following World War II, it was revived later through resurgence from its source and gradual global adoption.

1. In 2010, on the occasion of Gambrinus’ 150th anniversary, a bar in Italy situated next to Piazza Plebiscito, the caffè sospeso network was initiated. With this initiative, one can pay for a coffee for anyone around the world who can claim it.

2. The tradition saw a resurgence in Italy in 2011 with small festivals creating a Suspended Coffee Network as a show of solidarity amidst cultural funding cuts.

3. In December 2011, Naples declared an annual "Suspended Coffee Day" or "Caffè Sospeso Day" every December 10.

4. Research revealed that this idea has been adopted by cafes in numerous countries including Bulgaria, Ukraine, Australia, Canada, Romania, Russia, Spain, Argentina, the United States, and Costa Rica.

5. According to an account, over 150 cafés in Bulgaria, inspired by the "caffè sospeso" concept, have participated in this goodwill initiative.

6. A Starbucks in Newington, Connecticut, saw almost 1,500 customers participating in a "pay it forward" chain during Christmas 2013, where patrons paid for the orders of those behind them.

7. Aurelio De Laurentiis, chairman of the S.S.C. Napoli football club, is known to sponsor ten sospesi after every victory.

8. In March 2013, John Sweeney launched a Facebook page for "Suspended Coffees," leading to the sale of over 15 million coffees across 34 countries by 2015.

9. In April 2013, Starbucks' UK division joined a charitable program based on this concept, matching the price of each suspended coffee with a donation to the Oasis charity.

10. On July 22, 2013, in Edmonton, Canada, an anonymous patron prepaid for 500 large coffees at Tim Hortons, sparking a movement that spread to 30 locations, resulting in over 10,000 cups being donated.

11. In 2017, Neapolitan writer, Luciano De Crescenzo published a collection of his journalistic essays from 1977 to 2007, titled "Il caffè sospeso: Saggezza quotidiana in piccoli sorsi," meaning "suspended coffee: daily wisdom in small sips", a singular act which helped popularize the tradition across Italy.

12. On September 10, 2021, an anonymous customer in Istanbul, Turkey, made a record donation by purchasing 501 Turkish coffees at Dönerci Metin Usta, marking the largest such gesture in a century.

It is therefore wise to conclude that there are modern day caffè sospeso practice in recent times.

A Documentary

In 2013, BBC documented a cafè sospeso-supporting starbucks in London.

Coffee7 is a starbuck based out in Forest Gate, east London, and supports the "Suspended Coffee" initiative.

Somewhere in the cafè is this "support" logo indicating their support for the initiative.

Also, at their entrance, they have this chalkboard, asking visitors or customers to either donate a sospeso or benefit from it.

They also have a board behind them which shows in tally how much cafe sospeso has been donated, how much has been taken and how many is available at a point in time.

Beneficiaries walk in and make the request. “They don't have to "prove" anything to claim one, but the scheme relies on the good faith of everyone involved," said the manager.

I grew up having a similar experience, but

it is seasonal, because it happens during the Muslims obligatory fasting in the month of Ramadan.

29 or 30 days, based on the lunar appearance of the moon, we wake to eat before Fajr for Sahur (the food eaten at that time), and after Fajr we stop eating up till evening period when we break the fast, called Iftar.

Iftar comes before Maghrib prayer in the evening so it is often done at the mosque.
In most mosques, people bring Iftar for others to take from.

While some bring fruits, some will provide food to be eaten after the Maghrib prayer. They are often placed somewhere in the mosque so interested faster will just go there to take.

During our juvenile delinquencies, my brothers will go from mosque to mosque to take Iftar before retiring home for our homemade food.

This 2025 Ramadan, I still took sliced watermelon a number of times for Iftar at the mosque, including palm dates and, for once, a plate of jollof rice, and another time, àkàrà.

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Sospeso diversified?

Expanding beyond cafés, some businesses have adopted the idea and offer "suspended" meals or drinks as well.

I think fast food joints and grocery stores can adopt this by offering suspended items like bread or snacks.

Doesn't it feel good that you can just walk into a cafeteria, feeling weary and without means, and ask for a coffee (or food), if one is available, to sate your thirst or hunger?

In fact, you could just be the giver, purchasing three cups or meals, keeping one for yourself, and suspending two for others.

Caffè sospeso invites you to join its journey of change, one cup at a time.

It should not be limited to coffee—you could donate a hot soup, a hearty sandwich, fruit, or an entire meal.

The "caffè sospeso" tradition has also popularized the 'suspended baskets' idea, where less affluent residents would hang baskets outside their homes, hoping that generous passersby might leave food donations for them.

The suspended concept should thus be versatile and diversified, as it obviously replicates easily with other items.

Moreso, it has been used to respond to the 2008 recession as well as the hardship caused by covid-19 in 2020.

The culture isn't to just meet a momentary need but also potentially restoring dignity. It reminds us that no matter how isolated one might feel, there's always someone somewhere who cares. Though it begins with a cup of coffee, it's about so much more.

In the end . . .

Cafè sospeso believes everyone deserves recognition and care.

It reinforces the idea of community and social responsibility, reminding us to look out for each other.

This simple act of kindness can make a big difference in someone's day, especially during difficult times.

Hey!

May I have a "suspended coffee" there? 😉

Oh! To properly put it:

C’è un caffè sospeso'?

'Is there a suspended coffee?'

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Info and some image sources: Wikipedia, BBC, Snopes, Italy Segreta, Eataly, Lavazza, Fables & Focaccia

I recently felt a stung of stomach ulcer. It came fast and went same way. But I felt it. Even though I've once lived my life battling ulcer, I didn't get use to that sting when it came again.

Pain is pain. Even if it touches us differently.

Yes. Grief, pain, and loss happens to us in different ways and forms, and human receives it uniquely.

You wonder how children react to strokes of cane differently? Same lashes from same beater, but different reactions.

I was making a draft about the California fire in January before other activities took me away. I won't discard it. I'll reproduce it here.

Omoh. Many things have happened since January. But then, let's dive into a few insights I have to share.

Here's what I have for you:

•reflexions
•my reads
•quotes
•hmmm!🤔
•hahaha!🤣
•haaa🥲

reflexions

1. California fire

The California wild fire was really devastating. It ate a large chunk of Los Angeles. And it aches everytime I come across a news about or see images of the disaster. I sympathise with everyone who have lost even the littlest of things to the tumult.

About 29 people died, more than 18,000 buildings were burnt down, and thousands of people were sent on the run, leaving their homes.

Among many impacts, being displaced is a terrible experience. Imagining it alone gives me a sharp, quick headache. And no matter how emotional we get towards disasters, we are only approaching it from the witness perspective still. Those who have the actual experience are the true narrators; and some are no longer alive to narrate a scene.

Hollie McKay puts it succinctly when she wrote:

"Losing everything to a wildfire, a war, or any other natural or manufactured disaster is a devastation few can fully comprehend. It's easy to say, 'At least you have your life,' but those words often feel hollow in the face of profound loss."

The fire started around 10:10 pm on January 7 and spread to 50 acres within 10 minutes. It was reported to have been caused by a hunter's "illegal" fire that got out of control as a result of drought and other weather conditions. The fire lasted for 24 days, as it ended on January 31.

This reminded me of the Australian wildfire of 2019. I wrote an article about it, wherein I proffered pragmatic panaceas to the problems. that. Titled "Fire Everywhere: How the World Burns through Australia," you can go read it here. https://www.facebook.com/share/p/1C7H3u8E2J/?mibextid=oFDknk

Once again, I sympathise with the people of Los Angeles, California. I have a sort of connection with the city: my haibun collection "Dust & Rust" was published by Buttonhook Press, based out in California. And I've once judged a contest, the 2022 San Francisco International Haibun Contest, organized by the Haiku Poets of Northern California. https://www.hpnc.org/2022

And yes, I reached out to the publisher and the organizer of the contest via email. I was relieved to know that they and their various businesses were fine.

2. Palestine

According to Wikipedia, "As of March 2025, the State of Palestine is recognized as a sovereign state by 147 of the 193 member states of the United Nations, or just over 75% of all UN members."

And it gets me wondering how minority appears superposing and carrying the vote at United Nations. This is the evil of having a set of people solely or chiefly funding and providing resources for an organisation of many. If funds and resources are contributed equally and so managed, the continuous disrespect for the United Nations directives would have ceased.

Because, it's a shame that international humanitarian laws are made worthless papers and their custodians become toothless bulldogs. And when oppressors are backed by the powers, it is finished.

Palestine is not alone, we recall the Russia-Ukraine genocide too. Israel keeps breaking ceasefire without consequence—recent being that of 18 March 2025— just as USA have variously disobeyed humanitarian laws with no consequences.

The invasion of Palestinian land is called the Nakba, and the etymology of the pogrom is depicted in the following charts:

Territorial war has ruining effects. There's a war within war: war of attrition– a defeat strategy where humanitarian aids are blocked from reaching the oppressed. And the Palestinians have suffered great oppression. Oppression has no other name than oppression.

3. CBEX

The antecedent of CBex is no longer a news. How they cart away with Nigerians' money to the tune of N1.3 trillion through their dubious scheme. If you are a victim, I have an information for you:

You can sue CBEX! 🙂

And here is how 👇

Before the how. I made my first remark today on CBEX. It is that 'those among CBEX victims who use to glorify Yahoo boys now feel and experience exactly what Yahoo boys' victims often go through.'

I hope they learn from this that stealing is stealing. Name it whatever you like.

Back to this: you can sue CBEX.

But, can you get back your money? It requires some litigation antics & tactics, if you have the money to run am. If you've not sold home and away put for CBEX. This is because our first legal tussle will be about the legality and enforceability of the scheme.

Research revealed that CBEX is a subsidiary of ST Investment Co. Ltd. That is, it's registered with CAC. They also got SCUML from EFCC. What it takes is to conduct search and get the names on the registration papers. And there you have the co-defendants.

The CBEX App looks like a cryptocurrency exchange app, where you trade coins/tokens with the help of an AI. This makes it enforceable in Court.

But what makes that questionable is the aspect that says invest $100 to get $200 in return. This changes everything to Ponzi scheme.

And the aspect that asks you to bring people so you can climb up a ladder makes it a Pyramid scheme. These are the enforceability issues, and can render the argument an academic exercise.

Finally, someone introduced CBEX to me, but Islamic law saved me from the scheme due to the last two features. When you place a business in the scale of Shariah and it fails, no matter how profitable it is, it becomes illegal.

Shine your eyes!

•my reads

1. Patrice Lumumba on Israel-Palestine War

2. Bibliosmia Book Club

If you are based in Abeokuta, join Bibliosmia Book Club:
https://chat.whatsapp.com/CyLGinEr7inEW2LezgpeEl

If you know someone living in Abeokuta, share it with them.

•quotes

"Change is scary but eventually the fear of staying the same will become bigger than fear of change."

—Aarjoo Kharb

Its said that writers heal their wounds by completely exposing them.

—Aarjoo Kharb

"It's against the bro code to hit on a bro's target when he had already raised the white flag".

—Falz

The self in poetry is the power to differentiate, consistently living that path where many wouldn't dare.

—Tares Oburumu

Faith defies logic.

—Jide Badmus

Miracles are peculiar. They are not regular occurrences, mostly, they are an exception to the rule—rare interventions at the point of direness.

—Jide Badmus

There’s no manual for grief—applying same logic, expressions of joy shouldn’t be banistered, so far there’s no hint of malice.

—Jide Badmus

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•hmmm!🤔

I watched this since Christmastide and it filled me with joy. I thought to share the feeling with you too. Mr. Bluemax helped a man go home to his family with gifts:

https://www.facebook.com/share/r/19CMtJKabt/?mibextid=oFDknk

•haaa! 🥲

If you watch this California fire victim’s video, you'll help her with some stipends. She lost her house, car, and a lot of things.

And you'll understand what I said earlier. She wrote "entire childhood gone", and that sank deeper into my heart.

•hahaha!🤣

1. This rubbish man tested the girl's patience. And God, she was patient:

https://www.facebook.com/share/r/1Dzfk4UjFu/?mibextid=oFDknk

2. Isn't it sweet to see the devil having a taste of his evil? Yahoo boys met their senior men. CBEX be like hushpuppy.😁

3. Some people cook like angel of death 😁

4. Omoh. So if ChatGPT get choice, it'd be living differently 😁

5. As in ehnnn…

   

I think their products are only cheap. It doesn't mean they are of low quality. Our mentality is: if it's cheap, then it is substandard.

So far so good . . .

and so beautifully put,

we've come a long way today.

Would you like to share anything based on what you've read?

Or even something else?

Use the comment box…

Leave a comment

Thanks.

Good for me. Good for you.

So, almost always, and almost certainly, the newsletter will often come in this format, and you'd leave every post filled with newness. You surely can't leave the way you opened it 😉

I therefore request that you always leave feedback, and, that you open up conversation in the comment. You'll find me moving it forward.

Since it's the first, under each section, I'll put explanation of what to expect. In subsequent posts, I'll leave out the synopsis, or prologue.

Here's what I have for you today:

•reflexion

•my reads

•quotes

•hmmm!🤔

•hahaha!🤣

•reflexion

Finally bringing to you my thoughts— witty, crazy, mystic. For some, it'd just be like picking my brain. And yes, not only that, it'd be filled with events I found shareable. So, let's go right in:

Jan. 1

No longer than I said the second tasleem after Subhi and returned my face to the front that a wafting scent of fried food sneaked across my nose. I looked left and a woman dropped a nylon of something beside a man. She brought it my side too. I touched it. It burned my fingers. I sniffed it. It smelled puff puff. Haa! Hot puff puff in the early morning of New Year. As she distributed the goodies, she murmured something like "It's my birthday, please pray for me."

Before I left home for Subhi, Pàsó didn't show up at the entrance as he used to. When I returned, I didn't meet him still. Must be somewhere in the compound. Almost certainly under the car. Or inside it, on the engine. I know why he hasn't shown up. My neighbour brought in a turkey yesterday. Those bully birds 😁 Pàsó has been running away from it. And he found refuge in the car, his comfort zone. When the turkey was no longer in sight, he showed up. I guess the turkey has already been slaughtered for the New Year's festivities. I set out for mother's place. It was her birthday.

Mother is 65. A cheerful, wonderful 65, and she've got two great grandchildren. You read that right. She's a great grandmother. The thing they say about early marriage. But then, this our own era reeks of things. Maybe the world is going back to those time. By the way, we celebrated mum and you can practically touch her joy. After Asri, I stayed back in the mosque. Laid on my right side. I began to reflect. I shed tears as I remembered my Dad. It hurts. It really hurts.

Jan. 2

We were to visit my guardian, and as we headed towards his house, Adnan was strapped to his mum's back. My gaze was fixated on him, and I thought to myself: Having baby is a miracle. It's the highest of wonders. Just two of you in a house, and a year later, you've become three.

Someone has joined you, from nowhere. And no one is questioning you. As in, where did you get him from. Not the landlord. Not your family. Not the government. Is it because your wife had carried a bump in her tummy for some months?

Or, is it because the baby looks like either of you? So what? Oh! MR NIGER ACAD! Reproduction, right? Is baby not a proof that you guys dey make love behind the curtain? That, you dey put on blue light at night? The last time we visited my guardian, we had no baby with us. When he came to celebrate with us, he didn't ask where we got the baby from? Getting there today, won't they ask where we got him from? 😁

Jan 3.

Back to our base, we alighted from the cab. As I approached the gate, Pàsó started meowing intermittently, as usual. I have known that cats have a fascinating smell sense but have wondered about its extent, like smelling their owners from afar. In a quick information I got from BetterPet and Catster, I found some answers.

Cats possess smelling ability more than dogs, and humans. While human nose contains 5 million olfactory receptors, cat's nose has up to 200 million, which is some 40 times above human sense of smell. With this ability, they can perceive scents from as far as 4 miles, and can find their way back home from that distance. Cats have scent glands in their cheeks and paws with which they mark their territory and people. They therefore recognize their owners by scent and from distance without seeing them yet.

We didn't take Pàsó to mum's place this time, like we did during last Eid. He's grown now and doesn't demand extreme care like a kitten does. I gave our neighbour's girl a loaf of bread to feed him with. I mixed a little milk he can finish at once, and filled his bowl of water.

Jan. 4

I was returning from Ishai and a black dog was on the way. Unflinched by my advance. What a disregard.

I almost shoo it, then I remembered the words of Dale Carnegie in his book “How to Win Friends and Influence People" that reads: "Better give your path to a dog than be bitten by him in contesting for the right. Even killing the dog would not cure the bite.”

Jan. 5

It was time to sleep. I laid on my back, staring at the ceiling and thought about how things evolve. What was in vogue at a particular time is today regarded as old school. Some powerful statement have turned to cliché. I think of a car, Bintus. An impecunious person can't even think of driving it. They'd rather drive these taxi, as in, these Ibadan and Abeokuta Micra's.

Jan. 6

Obeying the traffic light, and other traffic laws, could mean you saving your own life.

Jan. 7

Take a nap. Once in a while, find time in the day to nap. The benefits are countless and below are some.

In Islam, to nap between Zuhr (midday prayer) and Asri (afternoon prayer) is called Qailulah, and it is a practice of the Prophet (pbuh). So, in addition to the medical benefits, you clinch some spiritual benefits, too. Do you need help finding a nap? Check this.

But I'm not in support of taking coffee. Go natural, friend. To feel awake after a nap, just drink some water and rush some over your head and face. Quickly, your nap length should be between 20 and 30 minutes, the latter has proven to be the best. Naps above 60 minutes has turned to a second sleep and is indicative of poor quality sleep at night.

Jan. 8

Nothing amazed me this day. Or, I didn't put on my thinking cap 🧢

Jan. 9

The day passed too fast.

Jan. 10

Returning from my friend's, Ottun, and as he escorted me, we observed two giant/distinct stars in the sky. He said the one close to the moon was Venus, while the other on the opposite direction could be the planet for tomorrow, Saturn, which is already approaching the moon. I recalled the meteor shower I briefly discussed in a recent newsletter "Some Stars Do Not Fall".

I also talked about comets and how they get very visible periodically. According to Starlust blog, comets are cosmic snowballs of frozen gases, rock, and dust that orbit the Sun. And NASA posited that there are likely billions of comets orbiting our Sun in the Kuiper Belt and even more in the distant Oort Cloud.

I first came across comets in the haibun collection of Rich Youmans titled "All the Windows Lit." The titular haibun which has the accompanying haiku "our small house/ under galaxies—/ all the windows lit" is titled "Hale– Bopp" which is a name of a comet. The comet is said to appear every 4,000 years, and the haibun personams were standing outside to witness its appearance since it'd take another 4,000 for it to resurface after that night. They said “The last time it came, the Great Pyramids had barely been built... The next time, none of us will be here.”

When I read up about comets in the Astronomy Magazine, I came across some other comets, particularly Halley's Comet, Comet Shoemaker-Levy, Comet Hyakutake, and Comet Borrelly. All these I mentioned and most of others are named after their discoverers. As in, Halley's Comet was discovered by Edmond Halley. I read that Halley's Comet's next appearance will be July 28, 2061, and it last appeared in 1986. Ottun and I also talked about endtime and the end of time. And how the constellations are moving towards the sound of the Last Trumpet.

•my reads

In this section, I'll share books or essays I'm reading at that moment in time. I may keep repeating some until l finish reading them. So, here we go:

• Sympatheia and the Poetic Archive of Human Experience —Interview with Abu Bakr Sadiq

• Editor’s Choice: 25 Most Anticipated Books of 2025

• Al-Khadir: between Sunni Orthodoxy and Sufi Mysticism —Abu Sahl Adebayo Dhikrullah

• The Reality of Tasawwuf: In the Light of the Prophetic Model —Dr. Israr Ahmad

• The Metalogicon of John of Salisbury: A Twelfth Century Defense of the Verbal and Logical Art of Trivium —Translated with an Introduction and Notes by Daniel D. McGarry

• The Incredible Dreams of Garba Dakaskus —Umar Abubakar Sidi

•quotes

Yeah, it is what it is. Wonderful quotes that touched me. That awed me. Some powerful lines too.

We were in Egypt for seven months, attending scholars' gatherings by day and copying manuscripts by night. One day, we bought a fish but couldn't cook it for three days due to lack of time. Eventually, we ate it raw. Such was the struggle for knowledge.

—Imam Abdur-Rahman bn Abi Hatim

Death is only the beginning

—Imohtep

We are like dwarfs sitting on the shoulders of giants. We see more, and things that are more distant, than they did, not because our sight is superior or because we are taller than they, but because they raise us up, and by their great stature add to ours.

—John of Salisbury

If ever you write anything, keep it to yourself for nine years. For what has never been divulged can be destroyed. But once published, it is beyond recall.

—Horace

Man's civilization is the sum of his constructive achievement, the substance of his well being, the key of his progress. Yet in the historical development of human culture, one of the most essential and determining factors has ever been education. Paradoxically, education is both a product and producer of civilization. Besides being the regenerative process whereby man transmits his culture, it is also the revitalizing means whereby he reforms it.

—Daniel D. McGarry

•hmmm! 🤔

Some inspiring and educating posts from social media pages that I come across will be shared in this section. It may include videos too. So, below are what I have for you this time:

• This is not a photograph. It is an artwork, a drawing, a painting

• Second Language Acquisition, with Prof. Noam Chomsky

• How to Protect Yourself during a Stampede

• Isn’t this a couple’s dream?

• There is blessings in giving. The more you give, the more you get.

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hahaha! 🤣

I hope what cracked me up makes you feel same. So, here they are. I laughed reading or watching these:

• World Worst Sheepdog 😁

• Bus Conductor wey dey correct grammar

• Don't be Confident until it is Over.

• The twist of event 😁

That's it . . .

Thanks for coming with me this far. What do you think about this new approach?

Having read all this, what's on your mind?

Did you enjoy or learn something new from reading this letter?

What would you love to tell me, or read about in the next letter?

Let me know in the comment.

Leave a comment

It is that you'd still read from me this year. And right here, is the round up de facto.

A lot had been said in my previous letter. So now, let's jump straight into it.

Felis Catus Press

Despite not being as active as previous years in the literary community, especially as it relates to submitting to journals and contests, I did some things, for the art. I started a press. Felis Catus Press. It provides 100% traditional print publishing for Nigerian poets. It's the first. We didn’t have such platform before. Only digital publishing.

And here's the problem it solves: Nigerian poets often have their works published in print abroad. But readers most times cannot afford the cost of purchase and shipping after the $ to ₦ conversion rate. Even if authors order at discounted rate, the conversion rate still pose a challenge. Who buys a chapbook for $6 (₦10,000). And the excitement of being an author most times end there for the poets. With Felis Catus Press, Nigerian poets have their books affordable and very much available to circulate. So help me God 🤲🏽!

Why that name? Felis Catus is the scientific name for cats. And I, am a cat fancier. Have you noticed that from the logo of Aditu?

#AfricanPoets2024

Adedayo Agarau started this with a tweet:

And we all took it religiously. We shared a poem a day by an African poet. You'll find a search log of all my own 30 AfricanPoets2024 here. I also did for Felis Catus Press. Its version is a thread. So, much easy to track, get them here. At the end of the exercise, we wanted January to be African Poets Month.

Some Stars Do Not Fall

I mentioned it in the previous newsletter. It was even the title of the post. I won't stop mentioning it until you get a copy 😉

It is a chapbook of poems written to grief and heal from the demise of my father. I started writing the poems almost immediately the news of his demise got to me in May 2020. I finally published them in 2024. Email me for your copy. It was self-published. And the publisher is Nimble House. A firm rendering writing and publishing as a service. Get us at nimblehouseproduction@gmail.com

Artistry

While growing, I found myself flailing between a number of unique abilities: drawing, painting, designing, singing sonorously, and, later, writing. That is, writing came to me properly towards the end of my teen, even though it was within, almost unrealized. I will talk about these things later in a newsletter, in the light of choice and decision making.

Before then, see what I did with an old dress of mine:

BEFORE

AFTER

You like it??? I did it myself, earlier this year. Bought the frame, gum, some nails, hooks, and got the job done.

end-of-year savings

Sometime in the second half of the year, August precisely, I broke my kolo 😁. In the previous letter, I said "some experiences would challenge you, be vulnerable where vulnerability saves."

It seems this is what my kolo did for me, for us. And my senryu became more instructive:

end of year savings / i managed to save / my life

God blessed us with a son. He became the sun of our life. Mehn. See brightness everywhere.

But then, it didn’t come easy. Over 24 hours in labour. Inducement trauma. My wife’s tears and screams almost ran me mad. I wept. Then, we pushed for emergency CS. There's a reason it is called labour. However, it shouldn't be life-taking. About an hour later, I was carrying “Adnan” in my arms.

The following day, our boy had to be referred to another hospital due to some hush hush. Two hospitals admissions: mother here, baby there. Some days, I'd flail between the two hospitals up to five times. It didn't even matter that I spent some nights under the hospital's staircase: las las, I went home with my wife, and my baby, sound and solid.

Aside from my guardian and a friend who I put in the know from the beginning, we went through it alone, to avoid tension. Sometimes it is wise to buy blood pants or pay donors, than to start calling your people for blood. Doing that erases negative aura around you.

It became unavoidably necessary to speak out since we were still at the hospital a day before the child's naming. Knowing what we must have gone through financially, siblings, friends and family began to show love. My kolo too did 😁

Books

Law reports took a large chunk of the books I bought this year. It’s a weekly, year-round publication. And I made sure my library is up to date.

In the early period of the year, I got the following books to get me prepared and motivated for the journey ahead.

I'm delighted to tell you that I didn't read any of them.😒 Will I still buy more, yes I will. And I did. I got a poetry collection and a novel by some of Nigerian fine writers. Two copies each.

At Ake Festival, I got some more books.

Events

•Three big weddings in AUGUST, NOVEMBER, and DECEMBER. I was a solid groomsman all year 😁. And why not. Congratulations to my friends, Fatai Adebanjo, Fatai Adebakin, and S.A Ibrahim. Cheers to a happy married life.

•AKE FESTIVAL 2024 came. I was a guest. It passes as the biggest literary event I've attended so far.

From the moment I received the email till the day I arrived at the venue, I was filled with excitement and cheers. I have a travelogue about #AkeFest2024 that I've been too lazy to complete. I'll publish it soon. In it, you'll find a breakdown of the 3-day sojourn, from meals, to other programs, and links to my Panel Discussion titled “DOCUMENTING NEW VOICES” and my poetry rendition at the “PALMWINE & POETRY” session.

•INKTERLUDE again. And this edition had me as a guest. I was part of a panel session that discussed “AI and Creative Writing.” Below is a short clips from my contribution.

•Guest speaker at Timsan Lagos Camp & Conference 2024 discussed “Climbing the Corporate/Career Ladder: the Proven Strategies”

•Guest Speaker at Bayero University's TECH Week, discussed “Doing the Unconventional: LegalTech as a Viable Path”.

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2024 taught us that we could win & lose, fail & succeed, cry & laugh,

and still not break;

while still maintaining steeze, and composure.

Have a merry 2025!

I know some people wanted to start saving in kolo when I mentioned it last year.

It's a tradition for me. I’m doing it again in 2025.

Did your kolo make it to the last day?

Generally, how did 2024 treat you?

Leave a comment

This is the second piece I'll be writing you this year. It may be the roundup.

Two letters in a year! Well, it's all good. Sometimes you turn to palm tree and dance to the music of storm.

That is, you become the paper, and allow life to scribble on you. Every tree that wants to always be the writer, and drags with the wind, end up as tissues of dust.

In other words, some experiences would challenge you, be vulnerable where vulnerability saves. I explained what took me away in the previous letter, and sought your thoughts.

So now, what are some lessons learnt this year?

Every event tangles into one lesson to teach us resilience.

2024 taught us the patience to sit and sort beans, then wait for it to boil. To keep doing your do's and wait, until the reward comes.

I.

The 04:00am Chef

A Sunday that will be merry is known right from Saturday. Such is how January was festooned with the story of how grace can extend its warm hand and pick one from the grass.

Sometimes, appreciating the person in your life only shows how valuable you too are. That's the story of Mummy Zee, Debbie, the woman who wakes up every 4am to cook for her husband:

Staying true to this sacrifice brought her a comfort, so much that she no longer has to wake that early to cook. All the material and monetary gift she received were worth almost forty million naira altogether.

In a twinkle of an eye, her X account went from 1k followers to 100k followers. Damn!

Debbie was not the first lady to declare her commitment and sacrifice to her relationship. A number of others have also woken up earlier to cook for their family. Grace only found mummy Zee, and I celebrate her. In fact, I tap from her grace.

Friends, she's still receiving gifts till date 😁

Rice and chicken has followed this. With some moneys.

See, when God is done, it is done.

II.

Posterity

Not quite longer than that, a BBC documentary of Synagogue church went viral. Some allegations against Prophet T.B Joshua and his ministry:

Here:

x.com/BBCAfrica/status/1744170823227674943?t=uNOjIcWzLpJ_BkoiaO5V-w&s=19

I wasn't shocked by the revelation. And just like the new leadership of Synagogue church said in their reply to the BBC documentary, "it wasn't the first time." But I, was like, "Finally!"

I have lost a very dear friend to the kind of practice and sceneries alleged to be perpetrated in Synagogue. My friend is still alive, but his mind and soul is in the hand of a supposed Muslim cleric, who held him in spiritual bondage.

See, there's nothing you wan tell me, when Kolawole Olawuyi marks you dark, then that's likely what you are. And God knows best.

III.

Jappa & Japada

The thing we say about grace. About fate. About alignment of one's star with an environment.

Many people have jappa and found fortune. For some, the rush with which they jappa is the same they used to japada— this happened a lot this year.

See, in your runnings, be it out or back in, don't run alone. When you run alone, it is called race. But when you run with God, it is called Grace.

We all are just living: we don't know what was written for us. We don't know the kind of prayers our fathers had told God upon us. Many of us do not know that we have only become our father's answered prayers. Our own prayers? They may just manifest in the in-betweenities.

Eheen! Wait! Why fathers' prayers? What about mothers'?

Brethren! It is mother's curse that strikes. And father's prayers are answered. Get prayers from your father. Do everything that makes this happen. And mother, ensure she doesn't curse. Make her happy. Her bliss is more powerful than prayers.

Back to the heading. In summary, look before taking leaps.

IV.

#NoGreeForAnybody

This was the slogan of 2024. Don't let the spirit leave you. Do your things your way, in your own pace. Don't be intimidated. Don't just lose track. I recommend getting the following books:

"The Subtle Art of Not Giving a Fuck" by Mark Manson

"Everything is Fucked Up" by Mark Manson

"Unfuck Yourself" by Gary John Bishop

In these books, you'll learn the subtle way of not "gree-ing for anybody."

V.

Some Notes

These 7 notes are a scribble of their own. A product of my reflections through events and experiences across the year. Join me in this meditation!!!

So far so good, and so beautifully put, the year was awesome. Taught us lessons, back to back. Prepared us for the future.

What did 2024 teach you?

What are your takeaways from the year?

Share your thought in the comment.

Leave a comment

And that reasoning gave birth to my haiku below:

the crackle
of a broken wishbone . . .
meteor

(curled from my haibun ‘Kokuhaku’)

But then, come to think of it, a star that is falling.

A fallen star feels like a fallen angel, to me.

As a growing kid, this made me spent time with the sky.

I will watch the starry night like I'm expecting someone.

In tandem with my curiosity, in the Yoruba belief, when this happens, they'd tell us someone just died.

Like, someone's soul just fell. That makes sense, to me.

I have witnessed a number of meteor shower. But then, sometimes, I have seen stars that, instead of losing their feet and slipping off into a fall, stride on a steady motion, as if they are being ushered out.

I’ve witnessed it a number of times. And I always look out for it everytime I find myself dating the sky.

I thought to myself: These kind of stars must be some celebs 😁, they must be special.

That’s why I titled my chapbook “Some Stars Do Not Fall”, which is a collection of poems written to grief and heal from the demise of my father.

I wished father’s star didn't fall. That he was ushered instead.

Below is the titular poem:

You can hit me up for a copy of the book at taofeekayeyemi@gmail.com

What's Up?

Some of you will be like: you've gone for a whole year and came back with some starry tales 😁.

Just like that?

Without telling us what's up?

Oh. I won't sweep that under the carpet.

Life happened.

But among all the happenings, Nigeria did not happen to us.

I got busier . . .

The reward for hardwork is more work.

I found myself doing more “My Lord, may I, if I may?”

Behind every client arrested is a lawyer moving in and out of stations, and courts. Behind every new deal closed is a lawyer spending hours reviewing contracts, going for meetings.

Behind the scenes are hours of drafting, of minding technicalities, of sharpening our wit.

And there are distractions, and side attractions.

As Kautilya put it: the arrow shot by an archer, may or may not kill a single person. But the stratagem devised by a wise man can kill even the babes in the womb.

So our goal is to not be the noisemaker. But the one with doings. 😉 The one who, when someone shake pillars with flamboyance, makes everywhere go calm with solomance.

Testing waters . . .

Creative writing is my forte. But outside of this, I write essays and research works. Since early 2023, I've done some technical writings, basically cybersecurity and application performance monitoring.

As cybersecurity experts keep enhancing their tools, so are threat actors finding ways to beat the measures.

A leading mechanisms devised by security experts is the blockchain. A blockchain-based solution makes your device immutable.

And blockchain is the technology behind cryptocurrency. How do we talk about all these without Web3.

While still dealing with this, AI got madly popular. Well, I mean generative AI.

Be that as it may, the ideal of blockchain-based security took me into cryptocurrency, for the need to understand how these decentralised mechanics work.

So, as I engage in these projects, my eyes are actually on how public and private keys work. I understand better what I've read, from seed phrase, passphrase, biometrics (as in, multifactor authentication), among others.

Sadly, I've seen how people lost thier assets to lost and compromised private keys.

In May, a project gave someone over a million naira. Others who did not save their private keys because the project was since 2021 began to scamper around.

Yesterday, someone lost an airdrop proceed worth half a million naira because his Solana wallet had been compromised.

I use to shout it a lot to my crypto community, save your private keys.

And yes, I got a takeaway—understanding decentralized finance (DeFi) better.

A lot on my plate,

Right?

But it's all a betrayal of creativity 🥲

Every literary work I published this year were solicited.

I did not write up to 5 new poems, nor any essay, not even this newsletter.

Yet, I still got myself active in the community, one way or the other. One of which is publishing the chapbook mentioned above.

Even at that, there is a wide gap.

I used to have a strategy for managing my time and activities. But no longer works. I've become many things now: a husband. a father. an employer (of little labour).

And the economy hits hard. Some works I use to outsource became shaky. Doing them on my own eats into the time meant for creative writing and the likes.

So, now!

What do you think or know about meteor?

Do you want to share anything about Web3 and blockchain?

How do you manage your time in the midst of many things?

Please share in the comment!

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See you soon!

For some, it is the number of books they've read.

Some completed a degree, and some relocated.

For others, it is how much they were able to save.

And some had their first car, or bought/built their own house.

The list is endless . . .

Those who are unable to account for any of the above often feel they had an unfulfilling year. Forgetting that the ability to pay their house rent is an achievement. Many are now homeless.

Paying your bills, or your child's school fees is a blessing.

Beyond these, the gift of life is unquantifiable.

That breath you are taking in and out, someone is in the ICU paying for it. I pointed this out in a haibun from my chapbook "Dust and Rust:”

That is why most year end, I share this senryu:

end of year savings
I managed to save
my life

—Taofeek Ayeyemi, Failed Haiku, Vol. 5, Issue 60, 2020)

We are not grateful enough. Most times when we thank God, it is over material things. We hardly thank him for the ability to navigate our fingers on the keyboard, or to see, walk, and talk.

We are barely grateful for our freedom. Visit the Correctional centers. Visit the mortuary. Visit the hospitals and see people thanking God they've not made it to the mortuary. See, whenever you count your blessings, count it to the blessings you can't buy with millions.

You saved more than your life

In mid-December when I read the "end of year savings" poem to my wife, she said, "you saved more than your life this year." And I remembered we haven't broken my piggy bank. So, we reached for the wardrobe and brought out two "kolo" wherein I've saved year-round.

I learned the art of saving from my mother. And while growing, no one saved more than me. I recreated this memory too in Dust & Rust:

So, I opened the lid of my bank and we were amazed at what was squeezed within.

We were more surprised after straightening and arranging them in twenty thousands. I have saved ₦300,500.00. Yes, three hundred thousand, five hundred naira.

I was saving the ₦1000 denomination. I can't recall how the ₦500 made its way in there 😁 So, I gave it to my wife, for her help 😉

What more did I do?

Books

I am not bookish. But I read resources every day. Essays upon essays, poems upon poems, sometimes books upon books, but not novels. However, I bought more books this year. About 35 books, of which 10 are novels. My wife is a reader, so she read and summarize to me 🙄

I also bought all the 2023 Nigerian Weekly Law Reports (NWLR).

That's about 53 reports, of ₦3,000 each. Isn't that a fortune?

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Enjoyments

See, I can't be working hard and not do things that refresh my mind and brain. And I don't wait for holidays. I do at my whims. No be say money boku like that, so most times, I saved up for them.

I have gone to the cinema a number of times this year. And to wrap it off, my wife and I went to participate in a "Sip and Paint" exercise.

She painted the flower vase. I did the portrait of a boy whose head is covered in a piece of sheet. Although my contacts subbed me over what I painted, I am still proud of it. These hoodlums said wiffy painted better and were ready to pay if we auction her work.😁

The “sip and paint” easily passed as my favourite outing.

This is also enjoyment: we did night walk twice, with our phones away so we could chat.

Sacrifices/Impacts

•I was interviewed by Book O'clock's Mazeed Mukhtar, and we had a discussion around my books and arts generally.

•I finished up my chapbook "Some Stars Do Not Fall" SINCE 2020, and the book cover art is ready. It's gonna be PUBLISHED in print, come 2024. Bi idhniLah 🤲🏾

•We resumed Amrayn Ramadan Poetry Series.

•I did many courses, and learnt Business Plan writing from the best.

•I attended workshops: INKterlude and Business the Way Allah Wants It

•I moderated a Panel Session at TIMSAN Camp & Conference, 2023

•I was Chief Judge in an Oratory Contest at the same event

•I yielded the push to host Quillebration this year. It was virtual, and terrific.

Soul-lifting Lines

I shared some snippets from my poems and creative nonfiction on my social media pages.

Discoveries

Tigernut is only taking the glory of coconut. The milky taste we relish in that drink belongs to coconut. I tried making the Tigernut drink in October and didn't like the taste. Much tigernut. Little coconut, dabinu dates and ginger. I attempted it again this December, the coconut is of equal size with the tigernut, and more dates and same measurement of ginger. The taste was heavenly. Exactly of the brands I love to buy.

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Dreams

The so-called new year resolution: a chain of wishes and goals; I plant them in the fertile palms of the Almighty. The world shall see them when they mature.

I thank God for health, for my union, for Àdìtu, for the people I met, for the ones I met but now know them more, for beneficial and rewarding efforts, for grace and luck, for opportunities to learn and do more . . .

Above all,

I want to be a good and "kind" son, husband, friend, brother, and human being.

I want to have all the resources that will enable me.

I want to make impact, make difference, make living.

I want to fly . . .

So help me, my Creator.

So help you too. But remember, whatever you were able to achieve or save, that your life is saved is the greatest of all.

Have a beautiful 2024.

Cheers  to more . . .🥂

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But this paradise that we seek to live after this worldly quest appears to be in heaven. And it seems the Almighty has created an avenue for us to reach heaven easily, and get a backdoor access to paradise.

If that's the case, why not let's go to heaven?

The Heaven's Gate

Located in Zhangjiajie, China, the Heaven's Gate is a cave through a mountain called the Tianmen Mountain or the Heaven's Gate mountain. The mountain is 431 feet tall and 190 feet wide, and about 5000 feet above sea level.

It is rumoured that the cave was naturally enclosed until that part collapsed sometime in 263 A.D., and opened to the heaven. But many believe it is naturally so.

I too will like to think that it was created that way. You know, who no wan go heaven in an authorized way? 😉

To confer on the mountain a holy status, the "Tianmen temple” was constructed in the 870 A.D used by the Buddhists.

There is a cableway that leads to the cave. It travels for about 30 minutes to the lesser peak of the Heaven's gate. This "Tianmen" Cableway is named the "longest passenger cableway of high mountains in the world", with about 25 feet long.

At the end of the cable journey, tourist can then take a 20-minute Chairlift ride to the summit for a bird's-eye view of the mountain. Tourists who wish to walk can take the cliff-hanging walkway which is about 1½ hour walk.

The walkway has three sections of glass floors suspended on the cliff sides for exhilarating "skywalk" experiences.

The first skywalk is named "Walk of Faith", known for its stunning views and the sensation of walking on air.

The second skywalk— “Ghost Path", also called "Yuhuayuan Glass Walkway," gives the illusion of walking on a path floating in the sky.

The third glass floor is called "Coiled Dragon Cliff", located near the summit of the mountain and is particularly famous for its spiral shape. It provides panoramic views of the surrounding valleys and canyons.

Seeing the depth of the mountain and the empty sky through the glass, clinging away from the cliff with just a jaw bite, must be a scary scene. The faint-hearted should not dare follow the path.

I would not want to give it a try 🙄. The faint-hearted is me. Me is the faint-hearted.🤕 While I have climbed several mountains and heights, I did them only with the masculine courage. Deep down, the mountain of my chest shivered.

Gentlemen, when I saw this little girl's swagger on this glass floor, I SMH for myself🙂

But the cableway and the walkway are not the only options. We have a choice. The bus trip. The bus takes you around the 99 bends of the road network to the cave.

Trekkers and bus passengers directly reach the mouth of the cave, and thereafter will take the 999 steps "Stairway to Heaven” to the Heaven's gate.

A French rock climber, Alain Robert, climbed the mountain in 2007, bare-handed and without protection.

In 2011, Jeb Corliss glided through the cave using a wingsuit from a helicopter at 6,000 feet high.

In 2013, Viktor Kováts plunged to his death during a training session when he was unable to open his parachute.

The Paradise

There is no heaven without the paradise. In the paradise are several gardens. Let's metaphorically enter this gate into the heaven, and walk through the gardens of the paradise.

Close to the Heaven's gate within the Zhangjiajie City of Hunan Province, are other amazing tourist centres to visit.

And I've often wondered: when there are stunning and sensational places around, why should I "see Paris and die"?

Zhangjiajie National Forest Park

Zhangjiajie became a place of attraction for travelers after the movie "Avatar." Famous for its steep mountains, clear streams, thick forests, and big underground limestone caves, Zhangjiajie is 330 kilometers from Changsha, the capital of Hunan Province, and 1,000+ kilometers from both Shanghai and Beijing.

Its park was China's first national forest park in 1982. When you enter this park, the following are the scenes that await you:

Yuanjiajie

The Hallelujah Mountains in Avatar were from the precipitous heavenly pillars of the Yuanjiaje mountain. It also contains the Lost Souls Platforms and the First Bridge under Heaven.

Bailong Elevator

Also called the Hundred Dragon Elevator, Bailong Elevator is used to reach the top of Yuanjiajie. It was recognized in 2015 by the Guiness Book of Record as the world fastest and tallest outdoor elevator, at 1000 feet commuting within 2 minutes.

Tianzi Mountain

Tianzi Mountain is known for its towering peaks and stunning panoramic views. The peaks rise up like pillars, immersed in swirling clouds, giving an otherworldly atmosphere. Look out for the Cloud Sea where low-hanging clouds create a dreamlike scenery, especially during early mornings or after rain.

Other viewpoints include Helong Park, Imperial Writing Brush Peaks, Xihai Stone Forest, and the Tianzi Ancient Village. You can also visit the Ten Mile Gallery where you can take memorable photographs, then pounce on the monorail train. Then you can hike up to Tianzi Mountain or go by cable car.

Zhangjiajie Glass Bridge

It is the longest glass bridge in the world, spanning over two mountains of Zhangjiajie Grand Canyon. It is 1,400 feet long and 20 feet wide. Around this bridge is a Bungee Jumping platform that goes down to about 984 feet. 

Gold Whip Stream

Located at the foot of the mountains, this stream is 7½ klm long. It takes about 2 hours to walk it, while having a sight of birds and wild monkeys.

YellowStone Village

This village derives its name from the yellowstone cliffs surrounding it, which creates a unique and stunning landscape. It is also surrounded by lush greenery and terraced fields.

Yellow Dragon Cave

Yellow Dragon Cave, also known as Huanglong Cave, is an expansive and magnificent limestone cave system. It is famous for its size, underground rivers, intricate stalactite and stalagmite formations that take the shape of dragons and pavilions. The cave system stretches over an impressive 15 kilometers, offering visitors a chance to explore its various chambers and grottoes.

Old House Area

The Old House Area is a charming and nostalgic district that reflects the traditional architectural style of the region. It consists of well-preserved ancient houses, offering a glimpse into the local history and lifestyle. The architecture showcases intricate woodwork, delicate carvings, and distinctive features of traditional Chinese homes.

Baofeng Lake 

Surrounded by mountains covered with trees, Baofeng lake is not far from the Grand Canyon. While taking a boat ride on it, there are green trees and stones around for sighting. At the mouth of the lake is the Baofeng Waterfall with its thunderous splashes, and nearby is the Baofeng Temple.

All in all,

The Heaven's Gate cave, and other sceneries1 in the Zhangjiajie city of China, are not only popular tourist destinations, they also hold cultural significance for the locals.

Evidence is the number of temples and statues spotted around almost every corner.

These places provide magnificent vistas that have inspired countless artists and photographers.

If by chance you visit China, do well to stop by Zhangjiajie.

Welcome back to the earth 😉

What do you like to say about this article,

and where would you love to visit next?

Let’s chat in the comment.

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