• Tumisi

    Atsetemi: Reclaiming a Prophecy

    Sometimes I consider my father too clingy. It’s in the way he claimed us at birth. Eight days after we were born, daddy etched a part of himself on us. A part we could never erase. That day, at our naming ceremonies, our father named us after himself. We would all grow up to realise that like him, we bear ATSE too; but unlike him, it’s only a part of our names. Meet my siblings: ATSEmay. roseATSE. ATSEson (of blessed memory). omATS’ola. toritsemATSE. ATSEyemi. ATSEfemi. and ATS’uwademi, my only younger sibling. I am ATSEtemi, and I’m yet to understand why dad decided to claim us by our names. Sometimes I…

  • Spur Lounge

    Tales From Big Mummy’s House: The Magic of Growth

    By Efe Ukpebor When I was growing up, I thought holidays to be the best thing ever. Either of these three things would happen: my cousins would visit us, we (my siblings and I) would spend the holidays playing Power Rangers at their house; or  we would all spend the holidays at Big Mummy’s house. There was a fourth option though – my cousins would go to visit their grandpa in Benin, while I would seethe in jealousy, having never left Lagos Then. Those holidays spent with siblings and cousins were the absolute best. We would run around the compound till we exhausted ourselves and flopped on the floor, panting.…

  • Tumisi

    For Momma

    Yesterday I was a joyful soul. An all-smiles-cheeks-wide- grinning  joyful soul. I wore my momma’s blouse I brought with me to this new city for the first time in nine months, and it felt nostalgic. Worn on a jergins and boyfriend shoes, the cotton blouse sat on me with weird grace: bogus and plain, yet adorning my frame with dignity, the chic-est fashion item you’ll find in a Christian mother’s wardrobe. . My day was spent reminiscing the good ol’ days of family devotions. Out of the blues, a song popped up my mind. It was one of momma’s favourite. I sat by my desk, thinking about all the funny…

  • Tumisi

    Dear Nathan

    Dear Nathan, I saw your pix on Facebook, the one which attracted over 500 likes and 200 comments, about 50 percent increase in response over the one you uploaded three weeks earlier. You had the biggest smile on, the magic which pulled the response, I suppose. In spite of my beef for cute guys on Facebook, I just couldn’t be mean. I clicked the love icon. However, there was something about your eyes: they were dark. Not even your flickering smiles could hide the sadness in there. It’s been over three months we talked; three months our friendship thrived only on the comment boxes of our status updates. Our inbox…

  • Tumisi

    For Things I Don’t Deserve

    This week, there’s been an overwhelming consciousness of peace, the abiding presence of Yahweh. I wake up each day with thanks on my lips. Nah, not the usual religious lingo used to spice up a boring devotion- the “thank you for making me to see another day…” line we dole out to the Lord in naps. This is mindful gratitude, that which sets one’s soul on a journey to uncovering God’s goodness. Bless the Lord, O my soul: and all that is within me, bless his holy name. Bless the Lord, O my soul, and forget not all his benefits. (Psalm 103:1-2) I forget not his benefits. I remember the day…

  • Spur Lounge

    THE ONE POINT AGENDA

    The year 2007 was one year filled with political agendas. The airwaves whizzed my ears non-stop with Late President Yar’Adua’s Seven-Point Agenda. I was hypnotised, anticipating the good things that would rock our nation. But with my eyes fixated, I saw the agendas fizzled out by his death. In Delta State, the immediate past governor, Emmanuel  Uduaghan unraveled his Three-Point Agenda. Again, jingles rolled in, buzzing my ears with all manner of political propaganda. With great optimism, I awaited the manifestation of his own agenda. Then I saw flowers all over our roads – flowers meant to beautify the state,  flowers solely nurtured by the rains and scorned by the…