• 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

    THE LOVE THAT CHANGES EVERYTHING

    You are a lion. Your folks told you so. They did when they discovered your strengths, and the zeal with which you maximise them. They observe, as you with finesse devour obstacles- a feat cowards despise. They are proud of you, of all that you represent. As your uniqueness glistens in their eyes, they fall deeper in love with you. What they didn’t realise however, is that you do not share their sentiments. In your eyes, everything is an illusion. Your strengths. Zeal. Finesse. Uniqueness. . . Everything. You don’t feel like a lion. You feel like a chicken. You want to scream this into their consciousness. But your folks…

  • Fiction

    It’s Not That Deep

    You’re having a casual gist with a brother just after the close of service. Midway to the discussion, he withholds his next statements like they’d turn out some abomination. His eyes pop out like Segun Arinze’s, shock making a mess of his handsome face. You’re wondering what could be wrong. Perhaps, you’ve let out one of those biting sarcasms subconsciously dished out to some of the sons of Adam whenever your harmless conversations take the wrong turn. Feeling slighted, they drop the gist like some hot potatoes and verbally launch at you with bloodshot eyes. “What is wrong with you? Are we mates? Do you know who you’re talking to?”…

  • Poetry

    Laraba

    Laraba, She that was born On a Wednesday, What will you do, When the fires starts to burn, When the harmattan wind Blows the hot coal Into a raging bushfire? I wish fires were obedient But they don’t heed to mother’s counsel They don’t remember resolutions Even when you mean it. So what will you do pretty one, When your belly churns and turns Leaving you on the floor Like you had a seizure, A lightning of passion Setting your body aflame?   Tell me, what will you do? Will you put a bible over your heart and thighs, Hoping it will stop his stares And unholy caresses? Maybe you…