THE GIRLFRIEND, THE WIFE

Yeah, I know they could be the same,
but one can make a team,
and the other just wants the game.
One is gentle, the other always wanna scream.

The girlfriend judges a man by the size of his pocket,
the wife adds to the size.
The girlfriend is content being a babymama,
the wife insists on a ring for her finger and must be called wife.

The wife turns a house to a home,
the girlfriend drives you out of your own house.
The girlfriend is so insecure
the wife, is so sure.
That girlfriend would judge everything you do.
Your wife already knows you.

Miles may separate you from your wife,
but she's never far from your heart.
Miles away from the girlfriend don't matter,
cos she's never been in your heart.

The girlfriend always wanna eatout,
the wife wants you to eat at home.
There're girlfriends on every street,
but only one wife in every home.
The girlfriend don't care about your happiness,
in taking care of your happiness, the wife stays happy, cos she knows you'd do the same.

No, the wife would submit to her husband,
the girlfriend always wanna be the man.
The wife calls her man husband,
to the girlfriend,he's just a baby daddy.
Every goodwife was once a bad girlfriend,
not every d girlfriend wanna be a wife.

DISCLAIMER: This is not directed to anybody, I know some people would always wanna criticize and say this is not a general picture. Yes, there are good girlfriends and bad wives, but this is what separates a good wife from the bad girlfriend.
Check out more in my new book: click on the link - https://www.createspace.com/4024126?ref=1147694&utm_id=6026

THE IDEAL WOMAN

Check out more in my new book: click on the link - https://www.createspace.com/4024126?ref=1147694&utm_id=6026

The Ideal Woman

She doesn't go out looking,

but like diamonds,she's found by a man who's done some searching.

She puts nothing before her family

yet creates time to help the sick and lonely.

she treats motherhood as a gift

and not as something one gets as thrift.

She doesn't spend hours in front of the mirror,confirming her looks,

but spends time,improving herself with good books.

She won't open her legs to every man who calls her beautiful,

she'd give her heart to the one that's good and truthful.

To her kids, she's the best mother

and to the world, a fort in any stormy weather.

She makes her house a home

and her loving'd quell her man's decision to roam.

She don't need no clock to know the time,

cos to her being late is a crime.

No, you won't find her among women that gossip,

she works 9-5 and, loves her family and earns her keep.

She's more than a noun, she's a verb,

she's the one you read about in the book of proverb.

Some Ideal women raise their kids alone

cos some foolish man's heart's turned to stone.

She's not afraid to cry when she's sad

cos every tear counts when things start to go bad.

You see her on the streets, greeting everyone with a smile,

as she remembers when with her man, she walked down the aisle.

She's the woman everybody talks about,

the same one her man can't do without.

Her kids are always proud to talk about her...

Her man keeps a picture of her,even in his car.

She never in anger,raises her voice

cos sometimes in silence, you make your choice.

She's on facebook, behind my screen,

no, not the one laughing,the one with a grin.

She always remembers your birthday

cos if she's your friend, you're blessed in every way.

There're more than 10 ideal women on my page,

oh, they're all beautiful too,regardless of the age.

Every ideal woman deserves a good man,

every good man gets an ideal woman.
 

LETTER TO MY KIDS: Part 1

LETTER TO MY KIDS: Part 1

Dear Kids (Jason, Jane & Beyonce),

This is your daddy, Stanley Anukege. You can see me but I can't see ya'll yet cos I'm yet to meet your mother. It's the 13th of November and it's only 10:49pm and daddy's bored and looking at the skies,looking out for comets and just wanted to talk to you guys.

Now, I don't know who'd come first, second or third (don't tell your mum,but I 'd love for all of you to come at once or you can just come in pairs), but however ya'll decide to come, me and your mum'd love you as God loves me. Now, Jason, you need to know before you come down here that you MUST respect a woman, never hit her cos I'd never hit your mom. You also need to know that I waited long before I had sex and your mom's the only woman I'd ever love and she's gonna be my sole woman till God takes me or her. You should also never plan on being a baby daddy, just strive to be a good man and enjoy being called 'DAD' by your kids and kids by ONE woman.

Now, Jane, go get your sister Beyonce. I wanna speak to you two. I want ya'll to know that there are many men down here that never treats a woman right. There are many single mothers raising their families alone, but don't fret, I'd have a gun by the time you're both teenagers and would shoot any guy that tries to get you pregnant, unless he's put a ring on your finger and is ready to be a father. And again, your mum and I'd show you guys how marriage should be like.

I know you'd be both beautiful cos as I sit here looking up at stars, I know your mum'd be one beautiful woman and daddy aint so bad looking either. Many guys would tell you that you're as beautiful as their mums, but don't listen to them, their mums aint that fine, they all wanna get between your legs. But don't worry, Daddy's got a gun and the bible.

Your mum'd teach you girls how to cook and how to pray and daddy'd ensure that you go to good schools and become good women in the society.

I don't want you shaking your booty(close ur ears, that's not a word you should use) in any music video.

Now, kids, when ya'll come down here, we're all gonna be one happy family, we'd have a dog too and it'd have 3 names...ha..ha..

So many things I've got to tell you guys but Daddy's listening to some slow songs by some ladies called Jill Scott, Celine Dion and Adele (some day, ya'll would also get to listen to them) that's making him sleepy, some other night, I'd write ya'll another letter.

Now, Jason, hold your sisters, ya'll should go meet God, tell Him your dad's going through some hard times but he's gonna pull through by His grace. Don't forget to pray for your mum too.

When God takes one of daddy's ribs, ya'll should get ready cos it'd be time for one of you or all of you to come down here.

Some other time, kids.

Love.

 

Daddy

Check out more in my new book: click on the link - https://www.createspace.com/4024126?ref=1147694&utm_id=6026

THEY KILLED MY DREAM BEFORE I WOKE UP

THEY KILLED MY DREAM BEFORE I WOKE UP

Night has come again,
I've lighted my candle....
I want to read, and the heat won't let me.
The president promised us fresh air,
now all we do is live in fear.
In this heat and darkness,
I can still dream.

So many evils holding us down,
Why must a few play with our future?
Every morning, I wake with a frown,
for a new day in Nigeria is starting to feel like torture.
But, still, I must wake.
I must shoot the leaders with my pen.
On every page and with every word,
I must get my country back.

No, drop your guns,
we're not at war.
Remove the barriers that divide us
let's bring our country back from hell's door.
Pick up your pens, put on your shoes!!
Let's storm their palaces
let's tear down the walls of hardship they've built around us.
Let's hit the streets with one voice,
telling them they only got one choice:
give us back our Nigeria,

Nigeria was beautiful once.
Now scars have marked her face.
She cries every night when her kids pray to God for a change.
Every new administration has raped her so bad she can barely stand.
Where are my brothers?
Where are my sisters?
Nigeria calls, let's obey.
She wails every night a child dies
and every morning our rights are abused.

Corruption has torn her clothes,
leaving her naked for the world to see.
Her breasts were full once,
now the milk of tomorrow has been sucked dry.
Oh!! She was rich too...
She had oils, she had fertile lands, she had precious minerals.
Now, a few control her wealth, leaving her children to go to bed with empty stomachs.

When I was 3, I'd look at her in my daddy's picture,
she was beautiful...like my mother.
Now at 25, she's so grotesque because of all the abuse she's been through.
The world says her children are the happiest.
Well, when you suffer and smile,
people tend to think you're happy.

In my dream for a new Nigeria,
I heard gun shots and bombs going off.
I smelt fear as her kids carried placards
and matched towards the military guns.
I saw her too...smiling through her pain,
cos she knew that soon, she'd have her beauty back.
Then, I woke up...with a bullet hole in my chest and a new Nigeria in my bed.
I looked at her and smiled.

Check out my new book: click on the link - https://www.createspace.com/4024126?ref=1147694&utm_id=6026

WHERE DO YOU MEET YOUR MEN?

WHERE DO YOU MEET YOUR MEN?

Just last night while I was chatting with one of my Facebook friends, I was struck with how much struggles a woman goes through in raising her child(ren) alone without the presence or contribution from the baby’s daddy. Now, I know this malaise is very prevalent in the black community where most children grow up in homes where the mothers played dual roles as father and mother, wrapped in one, but still that is no excuse for any man to also want to do it to another woman. I may not know the reasons why most men would behave like this, but one thing I do know, is that it is only in the animal world that the males abandon their young in the care of the mothers and even in the animal world, there are some species, like the penguin where child rearing is done by both parents.

We are humans, wise enough to know the difference between good, bad and depraved, and abandoning our own child, whom we help bring into the world, is nothing less than depraved.

Now, I should not judge, but some women are to blame for the kind of men they end up with, or rather, the kind of men they allow into their bodies to knock them up. There used to be a time when the best place to find a good man was in churches, but that was a very long time ago, cos right now, even in churches, we tend to meet the worse kind of people. I do know the church is a home for sinners, seeking God, but it should also be a place where we ought to meet the right kind of people. Remember when older folks would regale us with stories of how they met their partners in church? The woman was always in the choir and the man was either a deacon or a strong Christian brother. Those days, marriages were the order of the day and they were marked in anniversaries and not in child supports and meetings with divorce lawyers or marriage counselors. Those days, fathers always wanted to take the sons fishing, or play ball and mothers taught the girls how to sew and cook and the family all went to the parks on weekend. How did we lose this? Where did the good men go? Where did the wise virtuous women go? Have we let the society influence us? Must we keep on missing the kind of lives our grandparents lived instead of building on the strong foundation stones they laid for us?

We all have challenges in our lives, but whatever challenge we got, it’s never as big as raising kids alone, with no support whatsoever from one of both parents. Now, women, where do you meet your man? In the club, on the street, in church, on a dating site, or through blind dates? No matter where you met him, how did you present yourself? Did you make yourself cheap? When a man sees a woman as cheap, easy and accessible, he tends to think she’s just there for the pleasure and nothing else and when she’s foolish enough to get pregnant, he treats her like a whore and that’s when he realizes that she may have also been sleeping with other men and starts to deny his seed. Ladies, condoms are cheap, he may be so broke like his morals to get one, but you must always have a pack of rubber with you, especially if you know you attract the wrong kind of men, there are many cheap birth control methods out there, learn to use them, and if you’re so dumb, have someone teach you or go get a manual on how to tell a man to put on a condom. No matter how you think you love a man, never trap him with a child. Never think that if you get pregnant for him, he would want to stay with you.

Don’t be so fast to have sex with a man you’ve just met, you never know his intentions, he may have called you beautiful, bought you gifts, but he don’t own your body, unless you give him power to. I know accepting his gifts would make you wanna pay him back with sex, but for God’s sake, don’t give in if having a child is what you have planned, because he might not be ready and no matter what you say or do, he’d keep avoiding the consequences of his actions.

Ladies, you ought to be careful the kind of men you discuss your problems with. If you are attached to an abusive man, and you decide to go discussing your problem with another man, it’s your funeral. We live in a society where we know our various rights and its fool hardy when you think discussing it with another man, will not make him take advantage of your situation there are qualified and certified people that went to college for that, they are called counselors. I know some women would want to have a sorrowful story as their pickup lines to trap a man, but you are in for a rude shock when you finally have the fool trapped. You should not give a man too much power over you; unless he has proven that, he is worth it. Unless he is your husband, not your baby daddy. In addition, even at that, he should not only be a good husband, but also a better father.

Now, to those women that have two or more kids for various men and are still raising these kids alone, even though I feel pity for you, I am still mad at you. For experience was said to be the best teacher and I wonder how many more kids you should have for different men before you learn that you are the most foolish woman around. You need counseling, you need to put your foot down and say enough is enough; you need to be in somebody’s school or in some church with a woman empowerment program. You are no baby-making machine, when God said be fruitful and multiply, He was not referring to you alone. You are a woman and should be treated with respect but you must also demand to be respected too, show him that you deserve to be respected. You must be mindful of the kind of men you let into your life and if sex is your weakness, you must learn how to have safe sex. If the man says, he don’t wanna have safe sex, just get up and pour him a bucket of hot water. He might say he wants to have a child by you, even after seeing that you already have children from other men, now, when he says that, your warning bells (for those that do have it) should start to ring, for men are like lions, they never want to start a family with another woman who already has children by another man. There are a few exceptions to this though.

Now, WOMAN, look into that mirror that shows you your beauty and your curves and tell that image that you deserve the best man because God took His time when he made you. He formed you out of some man’s rib, let him come find you, do not go seek him out. Adam woke and found eve…you would wake someday and see your Adam…till then, treat yourself to a self-discovery.


Check out my new book What's done in the dark : click on the link - https://www.createspace.com/4024126?ref=1147694&utm_id=6026

STREET LADY, SHEETS FREAK

STREET LADY, SHEETS FREAK


There she goes
On her nine to five…in her suit and plaid skirt
she’s so professional, so fine….
She doesn’t say no, when she wanna say yes
and she looks good in any dress.
That there is my lady, the street has brought out her other part.
She transforms in the sheets, when clothes go off
And fingers become the new eyes.
My freaky street lady… the woman for me.


She sends me pics during work, while I’m at my desk,
Letting me know what the night would unfold,
She sits at her board meetings
Discussing me with her inner freak.
She berates herself when the sales don’t go up
and she pats herself when she makes me go off.
The sheets is where we let go of Wall Street and Dow Jones
and reach out to sweet sex and slow tunes.
The sheet is where we come alive, soon as we dial that 69 button.


She sits on her desk, juggling phone calls and flipping through her rolodex
I’m here, looking out my corner office, also looking at my rolex.
Anticipating what waits when I meet my lady at home......




Check out more in my new book What's done in the dark : click on the link - https://www.createspace.com/4024126?ref=1147694&utm_id=6026

LOVE HEALED ME (MY SECOND SHORT STORY)

Love Healed Me

Being blind is not something, anybody wished to be, but Hadiza felt she was lucky to be blind. This is what she sat thinking while she waited for the bus to fill up and they’d start the 10hours journey from Lagos to Kano. With all her senses sharpened; she heard the insect trying to get out, as it kept hitting the windows, looking for a way out… she could also perceive the different smells the park offered; cheap perfumes, smell of gas, and the various foodstuffs hawkers shoved in your faces to ensure you got a whiff of what you’re missing if you didn’t buy what they’re selling. Too many sounds, so many languages…looked like its Pentecost all over again, it won’t be a surprise if Peter stands up again to assure us that all these people are not drunk, but are seized by the Holy Spirit, she thought to herself. So many languages and I admire people who know how to speak more than one language, just like the Nigerian interpreter at the South African embassy that said he could speak six international languages just because she told him she admired the way he spoke Bantu. Would Nigerian pidgin be considered an international language? She thought, smiling to herself, remembering how her dad always ensured that her and her siblings spoke Queens English while they were young, but somehow, pidgin always found its way to their conversation.

‘’Is this seat taken, Miss?’’, ‘’No, it’s not’’ Hadiza said, collecting her tote bag from the seat next to her, she was also impressed with the powerful cologne her seat mate was wearing. She’s always had weakness for a nice smell; her olfaction was just so intense. So intense was it that she didn’t know when she said ‘’you smell nice’’…that must make him think I’m coming on to him, she  thought ruefully to herself after he didn’t respond, she was grateful that at least he didn’t hear her or that maybe, he was just uncultured. The bus eased out of the park 20minutes later, and she was sure the bus was already filled, for she could hear people starting to settle in for the long trip and she was sure the sun was already somewhere behind the clouds. Her mom always worried about her travelling at night, sometimes forgetting that Hadiza was even blind to see what happened around her. Tales abound of how accidents happened at night due to drivers who sometimes fell asleep on the wheel  and also about  robbery attacks which were so rife during night trips, she remembered an earlier experience where her bus was attacked by robbers who disposed passengers of their phones and cash, but when they got to her and found out that she was blind, one of them murmured to himself how beautiful she was and how vulnerable she looked with her big black Ray Ban shades, he just went on to the next occupant, leaving her to her fears and when everything was over and the journey continued, she heard some people wishing they were blind…how funny it was, thinking about that now, but she made a silent prayer that this trip should be as peaceful as the  many others she’d had.

Obinna squirmed out of his jacket as he reclined on his seat, staring at the beautiful woman that sat beside him. He was taken aback when he heard her say; ‘’you smell nice’’. Right now, smelling nice was the least of his worries, today had been one very challenging day for him; he took the first flight to Lagos that morning, hoping to close a deal with one of their promising clients, only to discover that a rival firm had already sealed the deal. He spent hours trying to convince the client that his company still had the best offers, and having failed on that front, he decided that taking the long trip home, as opposed to the 45minutes flight, was one way of slowing what’d surely come, when he gets to Kano and had to face his boss. To make matters worse, he also found out that his seat mate, wasn’t only just beautiful and classy, she was also blind, and he prided himself in not saying ‘’thank you’’ to her compliment, so that she wouldn’t think he planned on taking advantage of her situation.

His friend, Dele, picked out the Calvin Klein perfume for him, saying that Obinna needed to smell nice, that sometimes, how we smell determined the kind of people we met and for once, he agreed with Dele. He made a mental note to thank Dele when next they met, as he settled in, wishing he was blind, maybe his boss won’t be that mad at him, tomorrow.

Thirty minutes into the trip, Hadiza being so sentient, especially around men, felt her uncultured ‘nice smelling’ seat mate all over her, wanting to adjust this and that, trying to make her comfortable, ‘was he trying to make her feel handicapped? She thought as she….” Hello, I can do that myself, thank you”, she rebuked him as, he tried reclining her seat. “My bad, I just wanted to make you feel comfortable”, he said, wondering why some handicapped people were so irritable, just like the physically challenged man he sat with sometime ago on a Delta flight from Orlando to New York, who had stumps for legs, but still insisted on having the aisle seat, just so he could stretch his legs or ‘stumps’. Little did he know that the beautiful woman beside him never saw herself as handicapped, but ‘handicappable’. Trying to douse the flames, Hadiza reached over and whispered, “Don’t sulk, I just don’t like being taken advantage of, especially by strangers’, wondering why she’d think like that, she added, “even though you’re uncultured, you do smell nice”. “At first, I didn’t hear that, so that’s why I didn’t say thanks”, Obinna lied and then, “My name is Obinna”, he said, sitting up to face her. “Mine’s Hadiza”….”and I’m from Kano”, she added. Then an awkward silence and Obinna sat up again and asks, “What took you to Lagos? I don’t mean to pry, but I’d just love to know and I hope whatever brought you here was better than what brought me”.  Hadiza smiled, as she settled into her seat, wondering where to start her story, for she knew this man wasn’t just interested in what brought her to Lagos, but also every other thing about her, but she decided she’d just let him ask her himself. People always believed every ‘handicappable’ person had a story to tell. “I came to apply for a South African visa to go study”, she said this with the same pride she’s always shown when she started to tell people about her dream of helping other blind people feel the impact of the light they can’t see. Impressed by this, Obinna decided to ask another, but it didn’t turn out to be a question in the way he’d have wanted….’ You do know how beautiful you are, right?’ he immediately felt foolish after this and “Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked that”. “It’s okay; I do know how beautiful I am. When I was younger, I always wished to be in a pageant when I grew up, then, I use to preen in front of the mirror”. She said this with nostalgia as she sat back and turned her face to the window, wishing she could see the scenery they were passing. Yesterday made it 14 years that she became blind, though she’s gotten accustomed to her situation, she still hoped that someday, like her optician promised, she’d get to see again. Deciding to break the ice, he now went on to compliment her dress sense, especially the watch she wore, and he wondered how she could tell the time because even with his eyes, he couldn’t tell the time from looking at it, he also wondered what her story was and he’d rather swallow his tongue than blurt out another foolish question.

“You still haven’t told me what brought you to Lagos”, she said, jolting him out of his thoughts. ‘Oh, you don’t want to know’. ‘I want to’, she said, as she brought out the blanket and draped them over her legs, for the mosquitoes were starting to buzz. Marveling at how coordinated she was, Obinna knew instantly that this beautiful woman had learnt more from life than the letterings on her braille.

Now, at the outskirts of Lagos, he’d told her  about the business deal that brought him to Lagos and how unsuccessful it went and why he decided to use the bus, instead of a flight and how lucky he was to have made that decision for if he’d taken the flight, he wouldn’t have met her. But he didn’t tell her the last part. He was also impressed at how good a listener she was, for she only chipped in politely to ask questions, but for the most part, she was just quiet while he spoke, which reminded him of the parrot of a girl that was now his ex. And after encouraging him that all was not lost, Hadiza told him her story.

Check out my new book: What's done in the dark - click on the link - https://www.createspace.com/4024126?ref=1147694&utm_id=6026