Its been two weeks,  since students of University of Port Harcourt , went on a one day rioting, as a result of the tragic death, of a female year two theater and arts student.

It was garnered she needed quick medical attention, yet was ignored by the nurse on duty that unfaithful Sunday evening.






The peace of the University, slowly led to uneasiness and fear that Monday morning.

As I too waved half- consciously to people, I hardly spoke to, But did, because they were with ply woods for destruction of properties.

Just to say, the least I feel sorry, because another undiscovered talent has been lost due to negligence and incapability of duty.

And what most is appalling is the fact, that questions are never asked? No one is been questioned nor fired for devious negligence as this.

“Ignorance is not an excuse.”

Please take a look, at this worst case scenario, sometimes when patients, are been rushed their malicious excuse could be; lack of empty bed space, predicting death on the patient while still breathing, the doctor’s nap can’t be disturbed, have you paid for your hospital card? Are your hospital bills ready? and so on.

Come on, who are we deceiving? Are we really all are clamoring, for the same thing as CHANGE.

Because I see something else. And if we are, It seems some people are hell bent on sinking us deep, into the deep blue sea.

The answer I believe lie deep, different within each of us. How do we call these people to caution? Do we still and always wait on the officials, authorities nor governments? Or we take the bull by the horn and act within our capacities and environment, standing up to what is right.

To our fellow student, whom I believe was a daughter, sister, cousin. We say rest in peace.

Yours sincerely,

Female African: She Writes 

So long a letter – Mariama Bâ (Winner of the Noma award)

Year: Published in 1979                                                Language: Originally written in French.                    Country: Senegal

“The power of books, this marvelous invention of astute human intelligence. Various signs associated with sound: different sounds that form the word. Juxtaposition of words from which springs the idea, Thought, History, Science, Life. Sole instrument of interrelationships and of culture, unparalleled means of giving and receiving. Books knit generations together in the same continuing effort that leads to progress. They enabled you to better yourself” 

                   Photo Credit: Goggle

This is a well written novella in form of a long letter between two middle aged friends.  In less than 100 page, Bâ Mariama the author writes across gender, education, politics, culture, religion, Islam and polygamy. The author uses this letter to express her desires to see equality demonstrated amongst all people in her country irrespective of gender and class. 

The novella tells the woes of two different women in an unhappy union in ancient Dakar. Ramatoulaye and Aissatou – a widow and divorcee bearing the responsibility of moral and material burden. Their future interwoven as Aissatou takes a modern approach on family and women in the society while Ramatoulaye sticks to conservative methods. Their distraught journey filled with hardship and betrayal. Each woman fights her own journey while seeking support and comfort in themselves to ease their pain.

I think though just like most sons molded by ancient moral principles would do – choosing not to displease their mother at the expense of their wife, would take the choice of their mother rather than be a ridicule of society. Just like the writer maintains all men remain an engima to me. I can’t understand how both men living in mental peace decide to throw all that away for short term gratifications. 

Mariama Bâ, also recounts dreadful moments of religious rite – a rigorous process, a Senegalese woman passes through. In the words of the author, rites where she is stripped of possessions, dignity and personality. 

I am in awe, that in each woman – they both acknowledge the power of choice as where beauty lies therein. Unto the 21st century and this book theme still crawls around the earth, sitting at tables and devouring nations. This exciting read full of wisdom would keep you engaged in one sitting. 

I think generally there was the salient proven point of friendship over love. Why don’t you read the book and share with me your highs and lows. As always I would be in the comments section. And I might just get the French copy since I have a beginners grasp of the language. What do you think? 

Meilleurs voeux!                                                              Eberechi.

Welcome back

Salut lovelies, 

How have you been. I know it seems like I have been gone for ages deserting my blog and readers. No I didn’t. I always had YOU in mind. I couldn’t keep away for so long and that’s why I am typing RIGHT NOW. 

Am glad for the opportunity to have met some of you faithful readers and new readers as well. While I was away I got very friendly messages as regards to my absent without permission. I say – Thank you for been accepting of my flaws. I believe with good intents I had continue keep you updated on all most or unsparingly half of my thoughts. 

Oh and I designed the note pad myself, it’s not really worse off I think. I don’t know what do you say, as always am in the chat box just below. I had love to hear from you.

Meilleurs voeux!                                                              Eberechi. 

My Flesh empty, My Soul bare


Around me I see lust, lust for my flesh. Eyes ever darkening likened to charcoal, their sweet words turned sore-predators.

Staring, slightly overly they stretch their hands touching my skin. I wanna be lost, my flesh empty- my soul bare.

Itching I am, to be lost in their midst I desire. All they want is talk-talk and more talk. Call’ text’ fading – some days more blurred.

My soul bare-my flesh empty.

Excerpts From BEST LAID PLANS by Sidney Sheldon

Recently I have been filling my time reading and I have decided to put up a reading lists of these books at the end of each month. But for now, am sharing this excerpt from Sidney Sheldon’s novel – alongside my teeny thoughts.

“Three men came across a female genie who promised to grant each one a wish.

The first man said, “I wish I were twenty-five percent smarter.” The genie blinked, and the man said,  “Hey, I feel smarter already.”

 “The second man said, “I wish I were fifty percent smarter.” The genie blinked, and the man exclaimed, “That’s wonderful! I think I know things now that I didn’t know before.”

“The third man said, “I’d like to be one hundred percent smarter.”

“So the genie blinked, and the man changed into a woman.”


I would let you think what you think. However, to underestimate the power of a woman speaks volume of the lesser being you see yourself as. Overly shortsighted if I say.                                    To beat society at its own inadequacy is to evaluate ourselves and develop our minds. Why not accept her as your coequal!


My Beloved Shepard and Snow

Shepard and I. This picture was taken in January 2016. 

He was 4 months old when this picture was taken. A very energetic and a voracious eater. This one can never be left alone to mind food at times he is a good buddy other times he does naughty things.

 While this is our most recent pup, A picky eater and extremely shy. If being pat on the back or tried to be picked up, he feels like the ground should swallow him. He used to be called Rochas but he didn’t like it. He simply never answered. I guess he didn’t want to be attached to a negative memorabilia.

Snow and I. He was actually gifted to us.

Here’s another of us, my favourite.

I don’t mind being inconvenienced by these two (scratch that, except the poo smells worse than vomit). 

Tending to them like new born at times gets tiring but they truly remain man’s loyal friend. 

Did you know that when a dog sees it’s owner, their brain releases oxytocin – The same chemical found in humans who are in love or bonding with friends.

Since my birth, we have had seven live in dogs. To a great extent, I love and understand dogs, if I say. 


Seek and Speak your Truth

#strangers #knowthyself

There is a delicate line between being gullible, naive and trustful, and as I get older I confusingly find myself caught between this trio. Something is sure at least, a decision must be made, regardless it’s consequences.

At least, I thought I was practicing the acts of service when I opened the doors to a stranger. Whom I call Kene. She is a secondary school leaver, who had left her brother’s place, wanting to register for the next entrance examination at basic level. And so she needed a place to stay. Meeting as first timers, I was willing to put up with her for a few days. Even if she aired her unsolicited opinions about me to me. I didn’t notice any disarray with her as she seemed perfectly fine except her face that showed some disarrayed rashes (craw-craw)

I love to be on my own, and being that I didn’t know this stranger, giving her an unoccupied room was the best I thought of that moment. Although she insisted, she wanted to move to my room, I vehemently refused that she stays with me. I didn’t want to think that I welcomed a thief or kidnapper. Nevertheless Kene, still moved into my room stubbornly. In conversing with her, I noticed her undertones she made jabs about everything. She spoke to herself and continually rambled about hearing the sound of an aeroplane (which she continuously called ugboelu in igbo). It then dawned on me she was mentally and psychologically sick. It was already late so I couldn’t send her away. Nothing I said made sense to her. She kept reading a book I didn’t even know if she understood or not. I simply fed her and decided quietly, that by tomorrow I’d let her go at least with transport fare.

After much prodding, She told me she moved out of the accommodation she shared with her brother due to disunity and she was heading to see Fr. Mbaka. Hmm. Occasionally she would say, ‘Ebere are you not hearing that sound’, the world is coming to an end. Though I was worried and simply hoped that I’d be alive by the following morning to send her off. Without much ado, I heard Kene leaving the room saying she was going. I asked her where, she said anywhere and left. I was worried but I didn’t swing into action. Unseemly, I was anxious not to stop her from leaving.

Thirty minutes later I got a call from an unknown number which after 2 rings I didnt pick. I thought it was one of those boys. On the third ring, I picked. The caller asking me if I know Kene, which I positively acclaimed and was immediately instructed to come downstairs. On getting there a group of male and female had gathered, questioning her, on how she got entrance and how we both met.

I was a bit embarrassed whether it was because of my service or how this stranger ended up making people look at me as being irresponsible about my safety. Kene had entered into an opposite room and shouted about the world coming to an end. Unintentionally causing chaos. It was largely agreed that- she be sent away with the night watchman.

I feel crushed. I had the upper hand of speaking for her and I didn’t. So many afterthought-lingering my mind. I even worry if she is fine. Where she is? What happened to her? was she abused mentally, emotionally or that guard where did he take her to. No matter what, I still cannot turn the hands of time.

P.s I am thankful to Sheryl Sandberg, as she inspired this theme from her book “LEAN IN”

I hope you have a great year ahead. Don’t forget to help others along. As no one enjoys being left behind.

With Love.

All Souls Day

Photo credit: Goggle

Platonic relationship do exist. We were friends for over 2 years. Young as we were, friendship to us was with ease that we’d been married off without our consent. We understood ourselves, disagreeing often to agree, even our squabbles were affectionate.

I had an early rush bath that Saturday, doing my chores with good intents and purpose. It was going to be a good day. I was going to his house to do my assignment. I like the feel of the word ‘His house’ roll on my tongue as it was more of a hidden connotation to calling his name.

I ate my breakfast quickly and waved off everyone. I had packed my assignment in my duffel bag. The feel of the Sun on my skin glowed. It definitely had been a good day.

We did everything together, from meeting at school to church activities. I even reported every torturing kiddo to him as a temptation to act contrary to what we had been instructed. He knew a handful though he didn’t say much.

Years later I heard he died, accidentally.

I do pray for him, I remember him often now though I cannot tell why as I feel silenced as to what a life he would have had, if he were alive.

We were mates, we were friends, he is gone am alive. Today is a proof of one of life’s mystery.

Eternal rest be granted unto them O Lord and let perpetual light shine upon them. Amen.

Two Underage Youngsters

For weeks I’ve been shouting and giving commands; heyy! come here! Kai! stop that! etc. My mouth is tired and I know this is not the end either. 

One thing you’ll repeat it 7 times 7. You’ll say don’t touch and that’s exactly what they’ll touch. You say leave that place and that’s exactly where you’ll find them, causing mishaps. They can’t be left on their own without constant checks.

I rush some of my meals because an underaged miss eats hers in less than one minute so she could come feast on mine. 

While apologizing for something wrong they’ve done, you need to be careful lest they’re somewhere causing anew havoc.

If I say stop making noise, they continue stopping at their will.

One minute they’re here, the next they’re there. If am not settling squabbles then I make sure my eyes do not wander from them. They simply can’t be left on their own. Their antics keep changing.

One is only a precocious 3 year old who needs a reason before carrying out instructions while still struggling to speak queens English and the other a feisty toddler scared of Shepherd (A German shepherd). It’s like their unintended purpose is for you to have headache? Or keep babbling.

At the end of the day they’re good kids or trying to be, that’s only what a nearby aunt wish for.

Courtesy tainted with Arrogance

Mason had insisted that I finish at the Old nato bank while he proceeded to Fishers bank at the middle land junction 3 miles away as this would save time. This was distracting for me as I did not like to be out and about while prepping for my finals yet I was ready to give my up most mindfully. 

A salient disgruntled nod with a stenched sweat from the security guard welcomed me as I walked into the bank. The place was packed with all sorts of being, even young adults. While the staffs bankers rarely scouting the area but minding their paper work seeing how they could save time as more customers poured in.

I immediately picked a slip, cautiously filled in the required information and joined the line. 

Soonest, I got comfortable in my spot, I pulled out my phone and was reading my feeds. I was distracted from the incessant noise around me, occasionally raising my head to see my purse and slip were intact, feeling them wasn’t enough. I had to be careful, I wasn’t running just any errand but my high profile mom. Before long it was my turn, the cashier’s voice was characterized by resonance, typically out of norm.

I buzzed Mason, I was done, he enjoys the stillness of formal activities. So I didn’t call him.

I exited the bank for an unplanned waiting, unhurriedly bumping into a mister whom I unapologetically apologized to. Like a glorified statue I took my place standing under the tree waiting for Mason. 

Humming silently, not long after this fellow dressed on a jean with dishevelled hair walked up to me, I was immersed in my playlist to give him an undivided attention. Without a care, he said you were the lady who bumped into me previously, I looked up astonished by such air of arrogance. He thought wrong, if I was going to reply. Seemingly he noticed how uninterested I was, he was intended to have my attention. He introduce himself, as Hillary James an eye doctor. He didn’t mind rambling to me, so far I was the listener.

Courtesy was on loose, so I put my phone away, to hear him out. 

Hillary is on holiday, he loves exercise and food a lot. He’s familiar with the bank manager, he has a flair for fair women who can cook and he’s sure my level of unleashed demon is minimal.

Tersely, he asked the question I dreaded, “whom I was waiting for,” I offhandedly replied “someone.” He wasn’t satisfied by my answer, he wanted to hear more like an eligible answer. I was irritated, contemplating why a total stranger would outrageously ask me such questions. As if seeking the answer on my phone, I flipped it on-security guard approached him, the bank manager was around. Breath of fresh air forced its way out my lungs. 

Shallow Spirituality

#spirituality #relationships
When I was younger, I use to worry about being a saint. You see I grew up in a Christian home where at a tender age you’re to get involved with a society within the church and activities carried out was directed to how godly it was done? the intentions of doing them? did it enrich or offend others? So this did put an undeniably measure of spiritual sense in me, that I’d go as far as counting the number of sins I committed each day. Sometimes I’d become unnecessarily solemn because I didn’t want to be involved in rubbish talk, so I inadvertently avoided this small talks that would later on lead to gossip and confession afterwards. I didn’t want to miss being a saint.

Attending Catholic schools at lower levels, after morning mass I’d say my prayers to different saints with the sole intention of being like them. If I offended my neighbour (mates) I’d apologize to them saying the priest asked me to ask for forgiveness. Why doing this somewhat relieved me and kept my pride intact. I knew I wasn’t apologising because I wanted to but because someone asked me to. I didn’t want to miss being a saint.


So far I understand, I was only tip toeing and not exactly living in the real sense as I had only muffled ideas to actual christian living. I’ve lost the zealous consciousness to be a saint not because it’s hard to attain but because I wasn’t communicating, I was avoiding communication in my comfort zone. Now I simply want to live being happy and help others feel comfortable around me and with themselves. If I fall short of the christian’s doctrine, my faith I understand it’s human frailty.
I see true spirituality as beyond my comprehension as it’s wrapped in genuine love to my neighbour as anything beyond is questionable.

Yours sincerely.