Monday, August 24, 2009

As kids all we ever did was dream. We wanted to grow up and become pilots, Doctors, models, e.t.c. My kid sister can’t just wait to grow up and become the world’s first female photographer (To her the world has no female photographer cuz she’s never seen one).

Why do we dream so much as kids, is it joblessness, lack of worries, or is it us, still being young enough to remember the last things God whispered in our ears before sending us down here…lol.

Anyway, as we grow older, these dreams begin to fade, because we begin to learn big words like impossible, already exists, not accepted by society, too busy for that kind of stuff. I always wonder, just how much of our dreams are we supposed to adapt to society, all of them, none of them, most of them.

What would the world look like, if we all ignored some of those big words, and just followed those dreams.
When we grow old, how are we going to feel about the dreams we had not followed
‘I did what I had to do, I got busy, I had children, I needed the money, no regrets’
‘I wish I could reincarnate, and this time, be all I really wanted to be’

Wednesday, August 19, 2009

the art of imagination

I love Chimamanda Adiche’s works. Yet she says she hates Chimamanda. She claims Chimamanda does not tell you everything, that she leaves a lot to be imagined.

I love it that a lot is left to be imagined. I love the world because in the absence of no hope, there is still an option of building your hopes on imaginations.

In as much as I like to plan my life, I like to always leave the little probability that something unexpected could happen . I like to imagine. Maybe that is why I write.

I like to imagine that I would be out of the university in two years, yet they have been on strike for almost two months now.

I like to imagine I can drive a car, yet he says I am too unserious to learn to really drive.

I like to imagine I just love water but she says I am possessed.
I like to imagine that I am just a modest girl yet he says I must be a lesbian
I like to imagine I can write but sometimes, opening ms word just makes my head knock.

I like to imagine that both Bike men and policemen have been proven to collaborate with kidnappers, yet he says only bike men get banned from riding bikes.

I like to imagine that keke napep with its tiny tires, is too fragile to move side by side those big lorries but he says it is the only way to stop kidnapping.

I like to think someone lived in that beautiful house, which always has light even when Nepa has forsaken us for weeks but they say it is empty and belongs to the governor.

I like to imagine that he means it when he looks at me so lustfully and says ‘I love you’ but I say I can’t.

I like to imagine that when two elephants are fighting, the students of Nigerian universities suffer, but they say it is the grasses that suffer

I like to imagine I am not the one for bribery, but they say this is Nigeria, Nigeria, MYGERIA

I like to imagine that all these my problems are just silly little things that bothers everyone my age, but these silly little things have refused to leave my mind.

I like to imagine I would outgrow all my worries, all these things, and finally have peace but they say peace in Nigeria, is the peace of a graveyard.

They say that when you have a close shave with death, your life flashes before your eyes. Few days ago, I almost crashed while trying to reverse a car, nothing flashed before my eyes, I just felt … high. Maybe my whole life is just high
Finally, I like to imagine this was a literary blog but I say I don’t even know what it is yet