I have no right

I have no right
To look at you as long as my heart desires
I have no right

My Beloved,
My heart says
You have every right

The night is waning away, its melting away,
The talk about love is increasing slowly
My bangles are humming; can you hear what it says?
You have the right to keep me up all night
You have that right
To steal the moon from full moon night
You have the right

For in the morning you will gone from me
Yet I will not be able to forget every single moment spent with you
Your face
Your smile will forever be in my thoughts

To feel restless in thoughts of you
I have that right
To feel thirsty to meet you
I own that right

Nevertheless, my beloved,
My heart says I have no right
More I have no right

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A short story: With eyes wide open

January is always a good place to begin a new chapter. With the New Year excitement in the air and unrealistic resolutions flying about, it seemed like the best time to hope anew. So Dupe prayed for a miracle for that year. She wanted an angel to wipe away all her tears of yesteryears, assure of the wonderful tomorrow she’d always dreamed of and take care of her today. And almost as if God heard her prayer, she met this man that same January.

“May I pay for that?”

Dupe looked up at him. He was huge and very ordinary looking. He must have thought she was less fortunate to have walked into a supermarket and picked something that she didn’t have money to pay for. Or worse still, that she was hopeless enough to hope for any stranger to pay for her shopping. He had a little girl with him. He looked old enough to her father and Dupe too had her younger sister. It didn’t seem like a good condition to be picking up a potential date.

“No, thank you”, she said and moved along.

It seemed like a good day to do nothing but spend the little pocket money she had managed to save and enjoy the outdoors. Dupe hardly enjoyed doing that. So she went across the supermarket and sat at a coffee shop with her sister. Soon later, the huge looking man showed up again with the little girl asking nicely to join them. Dupe refused to let it turn into some fancy chase so she let him sit across her sister and herself with the little girl. She was adorable to look upon anyway but that was all Dupe let herself admire – to look and not get familiar. But before she knew it, he was beginning to talk, casually, of the things she had thought in her private moments. Speaking as though he had heard her prayers, seen her dreams and knew her pain and although her sister couldn’t understand it, Dupe instantly connected with this stranger. There was nothing familiar about him but he spoke so familiar. So before it dawned on her that it was their first meeting, Dupe had promised to see him again.
More A short story: With eyes wide open

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Don’t talk to me for too long

I live in a world all by myself

I love the things I choose to love

And deny the things I shut my eyes to

I am perfect in my imperfect world

Saying nothing

Wanting nothing more

Along came a stranger

A familiar stranger

Wanting to know more

And she doesn’t know there’s a secret to my well put together character

For as long as I’m saying nothing

Talk to me for too long

And you begin to see my many flaws

But I want to remain the same way

I want to be the same person you always think I am

The person I am as long as my curtains are not unveiled

So don’t talk to me for too long

My vulnerability is gullible. … More Don’t talk to me for too long

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Review on Noise of the Market, Adebukola Ayodele-Alamu, 2013

This is the description of my third and most recent publication, Noise of the Market, written and published on Amazon (E-book Kindle Edition) in 2013.

Noise of the Market is a melodramatic work of fiction. This is a tale of love, deception and betrayal. It is the chronicle of three generations of women who at different times pursued different paths, yet simultaneously suffered the same fate, as a wife and mother.

This book is thoughtfully written solely for the purpose and the information it provides on a few of the possible causes of broken homes. While this book gives an instance of early love gone sour, deception and betrayal as its base of this story, there are other possible causes of a broken home; such as onset wrong choice in marriage, neglect and lack of care, sexual abuse, domestic violence, infidelity, irreconcilable difference(s), lack of communication, lack of trust, among others. However, the most prominent ones of this generation are financial issues, cheating spouses/infidelity, jealousy, parental or friends influence, lack of genuine selfless love and time-consuming jobs. This story and its characters and entities are FICTIONAL. Any likeness to actual persons, either living or dead, is strictly coincidental.

Purchase a copy here
More Review on Noise of the Market, Adebukola Ayodele-Alamu, 2013

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Wild Area: Times like Weather

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I had said I would finish up my long lost series on Times like Weather. If you haven’t read the previous series please see them here – Times like Weather, It’s in men: Times like Weather, Heavens come crumbling down: Times like Weather for easy correlation. However, I believe I jumped the gun and skipped to the happily ever after in It’s a Beautiful Morning. Please forgive me. I hope enjoy it.

Olusegun thought it would be an opportunity to say his goodbyes when his sister called for him. However, he was disappointed to learn that Nifemi was the reason she summoned him.

“Sister, don’t let me disrespect you because of this woman. Please”, he exclaimed furiously. “What is the meaning of this?”

“Will you keep quiet and sit down?” she said to him in like manner. “What nonsense!”

“Sister!” he increased his tempo. “If you want me to listen to what you have to say, first ask this woman to leave this room this minute”.

“Please help me beg him ma”, Nifemi crawled on her knees. She had been crying; her eyes were red and swollen. She has been having quite some tough times getting a chance to redeem her life.

“Olusegun”, Aunty Kofoworola said firmly. “Sit down”. He obeyed grudgingly. He fumed as he sat and looked away from both women. “How sad” Aunty Kofoworola said in a hushed tone. “Patience is the principal character in all things. It is important to have it; and in all your doings have understanding too” she admonished. “Nifemi, please sit down”.

“Aunty Kofo, please let me stay like this”, Nifemi begged while she knelt on the tiled floor.

“Sit down”, Aunty Kofoworola insisted. Nifemi obliged reluctantly. “Olusegun, do you remember when that was you on the floor, begging to get your family back?”

“That was a longtime ago. Besides, the terms do not apply anymore. Things have changed. I have moved on; she gave me no choice”, Olusegun got angrier as he spoke.

“Cutting off the head does not remedy an acute migraine. What is done is done. She has learnt from her mistakes and she is willing to make amends”.

Olusegun laughed out loud. “Make amends indeed! What went wrong with her lover; the one she left her children to be with?”, he asked his sister.

“Lover?”, Aunty Kofoworola was shocked.

“Aha! She will not tell you the terrible things she has done. Yet you expect me to be gracious enough to take her back? Even if Adebola is not in the picture, which I bless God she is, I still will not take this one back. I have condoned a lot of rubbish, insult to my person but even when I knew these things, I didn’t send her away. I never sent her away. Yet she left me in the midst of her frivolous gallivanting. Still I searched for her”, his voice lowered. He was hurt.

“She led me to my good fortunes. If not for her, I wouldn’t have given another woman a chance; I probably won’t be who I am today. Still, I thank her”, he referred to Nifemi. “I acknowledge the things I accomplished by her and the beautiful children she willingly gave me. I will take really good care of them to the extent that she will hear of them in future and be proud. But there is no going back now; it is against my vows to Adebola and will be a grave insult on my person to take her back. I didn’t send her away. She left on her own volition”.

“The woman who has born you children is definitely now more than mere acquaintance. You cannot deny her anymore, personally or publicly. She will always rub off on you all the days of your life, whether you like it or not. Your shadow is cast on her for life and hers’ on you. Can’t there be a form of compromise?”, Aunty Kofoworola tried to placate her brother.

Olusegun chuckled sarcastically. “Sister, you know I love and respect you very much. I will not want to disrespect you in anyway whatsoever. But let me put it to you clearly. Even if my mother woke up from the dead on this account, I will still not take her back”, he said firmly. His eyes grew big; his sister had never seen him so stubborn and angry. As much as she tried, she knew there was nothing else to say to pacify him. Whether in good fate or possessed, he had spoken his mind. There is, therefore, now no going back.

“Ha! Aunty, please help me beg him”, Nifemi fell to the floor again. “Olusegun, my husband, please”, she crawled up to his feet. “Please don’t do this to me. For Christ’s sake, please don’t do this to me. Think of the times we’ve had. The times we’ve shared in innocence, for the sake of love. My husband . . .”

“I am not your husband”, he stood to his feet. “Sister, if there is no other matter that requires my attention, I will take my leave”.

“Yet you claim you know a God who beseeches us to forgive one another even as He forgives you?” Aunty Kofoworola shook her head in pity. She found no other word to say to him.

It was a terrible thing what has happened between these two. Olusegun was definitely not going to give in; his mind was apparently made up. When she said nothing, Olusegun took that to mean there was no other matter of urgency.

“I will see you some other time, sister”.

Nifemi was abandoned on the floor. She wept bitterly. She fell hard to the floor, begging Aunty Kofoworola to help her.

That was the last time Nifemi laid eyes on Olusegun. He left for Abuja the following week. Nifemi eventually lost.
More Wild Area: Times like Weather

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I love my children too much to let them go to school now

“I’m happy you got the job”, Dennis said to his beloved. He was excited for her because now, they would be enabled to plan their lives together, having each other in holy matrimony. “Oh, my darling”, Justina threw herself on him. “I am so happy. With your new job at the Oil and Gas Company … More I love my children too much to let them go to school now

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My Perfect Bride

He said: You are beautiful, my darling Beautiful beyond words. Your eyes are like doves behind your veil. Your hair falls in waves, Like a flock of goats winding down the slopes of Gilead. Your teeth are as white as sheep, Recently shorn and freshly washed. Your smile is flawless, Each tooth matched with its … More My Perfect Bride

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Brokenhearted

My heart ached. It couldn’t really ache, could it? I didn’t want to exaggerate the situation. That sort of thing only happened in the movies. I was living in real life yet I felt my heart literally ached. It didn’t ache when John left me behind to study in the United States. We had come … More Brokenhearted

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Platter of Flowers

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Aribido wondered what the thing was – that thing that got all the other children, male and female, wanting her.
She was just a regular girl who loved life. All she wanted was to enjoy the good in life. Life was already good for her and her family. They lived in a four bedroom apartment which also housed five other families of the same ethnic group, or so Aribido thought. She was the last born child of a family of three children, the only girl too. Her family was from Ilori West in Kwara state. Every Sunday afternoon, her mother would put big hot chunks of soft boiled yam into the wooden mortar pot while her Aunty Julie pounded the chunks into what would be fine balls of pounded yam in their plates for lunch. Ẹfọ riro with lots of irú really went down well with the pounded yam. Aribido was a chubby girl, with fine rosy cheeks. When she smiled, deep dimples on each cheek revealed how puffy her cheeks really were. Her hair was long and full in natural thick locks. It looked like a South African turban when she combed it all out. That was one of the reasons the other children loved her. They wanted to be close friends with her, too, for the beautiful charisma she wore around like colourful royal robes.
When the children played in the compound, the children of the other apartment too, they played games like ‘police and thief’, ‘mummy and daddy’, and ‘hide and seek’.
When they played ‘police and thief’, one person represented the police and the rest of the children played thieves. The police made a pistol with his first two fingers stretched out like the mouth of a pistol while the rest of the fingers were folded inward. The children would hide. The police had to search while being careful not to be heard as he or she approached, creeping in slowly as he or she held their backs against the wall as they went along. Even the thieve avoid being sighted, clinging their backs against the walls as they went along. Whomever the police sighted and shoot is out of the game. That was the rule of the game but most of the children end up upset and argued about not being out of the game. “Your pistol did not hit me”, they would say. However, whenever it was Aribido that was the thief, the police often pretended not to see her so she wouldn’t be out of the game, save for of course if it were one of her siblings who didn’t keep a bias about her. Nevertheless, when she was the police, whenever she declared someone out of the game, the person accepted gallantly. It was as though her opinion was a form of endorsement on certain things.
One of the more interesting games was ‘mummy and daddy’. It was a family play, acting regular everyday life. The mummies often feigned cooking for the family, or cooking in preparation for parties and get-togethers. It was interesting because they get to go to the market, which was not farther than the garden at the backyard in the compound, to pick colourful and exotic flowers like the red hibiscus; caladium leaves which has green hem across the blade with red central veins as it branches out across the rest of the white vascular tissue; and especially the sundown red leaf lettuce – it almost looks like the reddish-green spinach vegetables. These flowers resembled the ones the real mummies bought from the market. So the ‘mummies’ pick the leaves, flowers and any other interesting looking things they found in the garden, seeds and twigs that served as spoons or something like it. However, they deliberately avoid any leaves or flowers near the banana trees. There were bad rumours linked to the banana tree, no one went near. Although the banana tree was outside the compound, it was mysteriously looked upon from afar. Perhaps, the varieties and scent of the leafy flowers attracted the many snakes that were seen in the compound while serving as camouflage for them too.
So the mummies came together to prepare meals, adding all kinds of interesting make-believe spices. The daddies, on the other hand, loved their part of rubbing their bodies against the mummies, laying on them and the likes. They usually cast dies for whom would play Aribido’s husband. Sometimes, her husband even said he was sick and needed extra attention from her to get well.
Once, one of the girls caught one of the boys kissing Aribido behind the building. She too wanted to know what it felt like to hold her in her arms as the boys usually did. None of the boys were taken by any other girl but Aribido. So Eliza invited her home one afternoon when her mother and older siblings were out. Eliza was older than Aribido. They watched a movie together while sitting on the long cushion chair. Eliza began to move closer to Aribido. She realised Eliza was swiftly moving close but she wondered what it was all for. Then, when there was no space between them anymore, Aribido looked at her. Eliza smiled at her. Eliza kept her gaze till she began to move her head closer as well. She kissed Aribido. Aribido was confused. A few of the boys had kissed her and she had often seen that in the movies, boys kissing girls, men kissing women but she had never known a girl could kiss another girl. Eliza’s kiss didn’t feel forbidden however. It felt as though when Deinde has kissed her or when Daniel kissed her the other day only that Eliza’s lips felt softer.
Eliza pulled away giving Aribido a chance to savour the experience. When after she pulled away she found Aribido’s eyes shut and her lips pouted out as if for more, she kissed her again. This time she gently forced her lips apart with her tongue and fondled with hers. Aribido hardly participated in that tongue-tied situation. She just contemplated if she really liked it. Before she could decide, Eliza had pushed her on to the cushion while fondling with the rest of her body. At that time, she stiffened her body and began to wonder what it was between her thighs that suddenly felt slippery, her underwear felt wet. Before she could decide she didn’t like what she was feeling or what was happening to her or push Eliza off, they heard a knock on the door. Eliza quickly got up and pulled up her pant and rubbed the saliva off her lips. She asked Aribido to quickly do the same as she yelled, “I’m coming!”.
“What are you doing that you had to bolt the door and lock yourself in?”, her mother asked when she got in, looking around for suspicious acts.
“Nothing mummy”, Eliza was quick to respond. “I didn’t want anyone to disturb this movie I and Aribido are watching”, she quickly added before her mother walked into the living room to find her there.
“Good afternoon ma”, Aribido greeted in her usual self.
“How are you, my dear?” Eliza’s mother responded to her. “How are your mummy and brothers?”
“They are fine, ma. I should be going now”, she rose to her feet.
“Oh no, my dear, stay to finish your movie”, Eliza’s mother urged.
“Don’t worry ma. I can always come to finish it another day”, she said but almost in a requesting manner as she looked at Eliza.
Eliza was glad she wanted to come back to finish what they had started. “Yes, another day”, Eliza said happily.
That experience didn’t give her any favouritism in affection for certain gender relationship, looking back on it. As desired as she was as a child, as fortunate as her family was, as beautifully perfect her life seemed, it was nothing short of a platter of flowers. But old age told the reality of life. Over forty years later, she hears of homosexuals and other perverse immoralities, and she wonders how true the saying is. ‘Nothing under the sun is truly new’.
More Platter of Flowers

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