From movies to real life, one question I am yet to understand people ever having to ask is “do you love me?” Really? Why do you have to ask? Why? And whatever my response is will you believe me? If I tell you I love you, only after you asked, would that satisfy your curiosity?
Firstly, do you know the difference between a tooth and teeth? Do you know how teachers will insist you use the right one each time you were referring to them?
There must be an alternate universe where you and I end up together. But in this universe, how can I end up with this your friend I have come to like?
More disturbing than blacks not being picked up by the aliens, is the fact that no Nigerian has recorded any of such encounters so far. The Nigerian population in the USA is enough to have witnessed a noticeable amount of extraterrestrial activities. How come none is reported?
I heard that to give an apology cost nothing. But is that true though? Someone else said the true cost of an apology is ego and pride. Again, I wonder, how true is that?
More important than my fear or dislike for canines, if all Men are dogs, and all dogs go to heaven, can you see where I’m going with this?
One question I am always fascinated to hear asked, is “who is in charge here?” Whenever that question is asked, it is either a mess has been made, or a mess is about to be made. Why else would someone ask, who is in charge here?
Whatever you have to say about Judas Iscariot, at least he got paid something. By the way, how much were you paid the last time you betrayed your friends, your values, or yourself?
And by the way, what if I don’t like you? What would you then do? You would get angry, would you then report me to someone? Or would you come and flog me? Or do you have the power to make me like you by force?
And if I never heal from this heartbreak, will I ever get to love again? Can love be built on pain? What if I’m unable to connect with anyone? Who would teach me to love again?
I know a few people that if their dads got the “taken” call, their response will be “Okay.” Just okay. Their wahala is so much that their dad would never be in a hurry to regain them. He might say “let him learn a thing or two.”
You may have little power over how you will be remembered when you are gone, but you do have a lot of say in what you will remember before you are gone.
Do these fellas know they could have saved all of us five seconds by just going straight to the cables rather than toying with keys? Or does the key serves a purpose the rest of us are not aware of?
Time and again, I have come to a crossroad, and had to make a choice; to know or not to know? Some say ignorance is bliss. How true is this? Have you witnessed someone hurt themselves because they don’t know better?
When they ask you, why do you trust him this much? Are there no better men out there? Is he down for the long haul as you are? I want you to tell them, “all the feelings I’ve got for him, he’s got it twice and over for me.”
When a governor announces that he has built 10 roads totaling 350 kilometers, at the rate of 5 million Naira per kilometer, no one asks how many people use that road daily. Nor where does the road lead to and what economic benefit it serves.
First things first, who misplaced the X? Why should I be looking for something I do not know how it got missing? And why does X keep getting missing? Is the teacher that careless? Or are they just being mischievous?
Follow who know road, I ended up going far, except that I was heeded in the wrong direction. I had to retrace my steps to start all over again. Wasn’t I better off having never made the journey?
At what point do you start wishing you had never met someone? Or better yet, to just unknow them? The friend that is never happy for you, in a hurry to minimize your achievements, that sees nothing you do as worthy of celebration.
There is a startling revelation that dawned on me recently. How do you pronounce cabbage? But how does your neighbour pronounce it? And how does the seller pronounce it?
Every December, you threaten to cut people off. Every January, you announce you have done it. How come by the next December there are always more people awaiting your blade or cutlass?
How can I do this? How much do I even have in my account? How much does she think I earn monthly? I would have just given up and moved on to the next girl, but this is the love of my life we are talking about here. Will you have let her go if you were in my shoes?
Looking back at that whole incident now, I can’t help but wonder, was Junior really “Junior”? Do you know what I mean? I know what I saw, but can I trust my childhood memories? On a second thought, how many Junior are not really “Juniors”?
As I hear you brushing your teeth from a mile away, I can’t help wondering, are you trying to kill yourself? I hear the screaming and gurgling, it sounds just like murder, do you even like yourself?
The power of the nose cannot be over quantified, but have you heard a Yoruba person say “Imu nika, koje ka gbo orun asebi”?
After spending a good deal of time thinking on it, I had to send her a message asking who does that? As in who are they? what did they do? And should they be prepping for a fight?
Are friends not meant to lift each other up, show one another the way, and be sources of respite, refreshment, and resources for one another?
You saw her, she was drop-dead gorgeous, her voice was like music to your ears, you were satisfied. You walked up to her, you gave her your fire lines, you were really poetic, alas, she was not satisfied.
There is a saying that accompanies a story I read as a kid. “While Rome burned, Nero fiddled”. Is that the best way to describe Nigeria and her leaders?
Mr Ballot Box Snatcher, what’s up? You have been paid to go on another snatching spree, you have been instructed on which polling station to disturb, you have picked your accomplices, please tell me, is it worth it?