Ever searching for the wor(l)d…
Ever searching for the wor(l)d…
I remember my first attempt at hunting. I was a little boy then and just arrived my hometown for holidays. It was fun and I was glad I went home. As a town boy I had little experience in hunting and general country life. Traveling home was a great way to get in touch with my culture and loved ones. My granny lived in the countryside. I was always excited to see her, she was the reason I went home then. She was kind, generous and thoughtful of others. She always spared me some fish from her food basket. I was her boy and always sit looking at her pretty face each time she made dinner. The memories of her soup still make me salivate. How I miss those days. I wish I could pen down the exact feelings but it can’t be expressed in that manner. It can only be felt. True happiness grow from simple and funny things.
School holidays was an opportunity for traveling. I enjoyed every bit of it. The excitement to pack, to watch the clouds ride past, to eat my hometown’s egusi biscuits, to play with many kids and dream of killing a lion in the forest was enough to drive me home. I always fantasized, I always imagined. I dreamed too. This must be the origin of my love for traveling. Most times we traveled through rail and other times by road. The roads then were much better and I love the feel of fresh wind against my face. I really loved traveling with my aunt to stay with granny (God rest their beautiful souls).
I remember hunting with my playmates. We could hunt, swim, fish, dance, play games, farm and climb trees. We even played in the rain. We hunted anything available, lizards, rats, flies, bugs, grasshoppers and ants. I as a person, had a soft spot for living things. I could collect and study them. As a kid I couldn’t keep my captive pets alive because they won’t eat the food I offered them. Well, I cried each time I lost an insect. My parents thought I would become a medical doctor, but I wasn’t destined for that. My curiosity was something else. I wasn’t good in fixing inanimate objects (fans and TeeVee sets) like my elder brothers but I was more interested in life itself.
There were stories told by my aunt and granny. I also learned of Biafra from old veterans. Most of my friends were the elderly. While I loved hanging out with them I learned a lot from their stories. I imagined life in the time of no civilization. My aunt was my favourite story teller. She acquainted me with tricks of Nnabe, the cunny Tortoise. She even told me I was the reincarnation of her father and wished I met him and I wish I did too. He was a great man indeed. He farmed great expanses of land and had big yam barns, diji, he was also a great hunter, dinta, he was stubborn and courageous. I learned he fought in Hitler’s War in Libya and modern day Israel. My mom still retells her favourite story of how he beat up a racist who always intimidated black soldiers. It’s a good laugh. Maybe I will tell it some day.
I remember with joy, how fast things go by, how I miss those good nomad days and how life has changed. But beautiful memories still flood my mind. I’m grateful to have them.
Maya Angelou opined that one can’t use up creativity. The more you use, the more you have.
Join me to welcome my guest, Seno Ukpe, a friend from Akwa Ibom state and CEO Senocreme.
Meeting Seno, some years back in University of Uyo, I didn’t observe she had an enterprising mindset. Smart and taciturn, I was sure that she would become a budding baking celebrity in the city of Uyo. So when she transformed an idea into reality and became a mentor in her field, I wasn’t surprised. I love good food and will celebrate anyone who makes some!
Seno is taciturn yet what strikes me when she speak is her confidence and that’s a great way to start a success story. Her passion for baking is outstanding, it even reflects on her work as you can see in the images.
As I say, a good baker is a good mathematician. Timeliness, grit and creativity are calculative spicing in every good cooking and Senocreme gives the best experience.
Honestly, I would let my pen rest and eat a fistful.
If you are interested in cakes and bake mentoring, drop a message or reach out to her. I know she will be more than happy to help. Thank you Senocreme for your time.
Check out her Facebook and Twitter pages @senocreme
You remind me of home, far away,
Fine memories I cherish each day
Take a moment and breath… 💙💚🌺🌻
Images from I Love South Africa page…
Dreams are not for you little feather
For you must fly and soar above all,
Above those who may delay your sails
And across thick forests and arid lands
Which are nobody’s foe or friend
I am jealous of you but wish you well
So wave me a bye, spread your wings,
And let the wind be your compass!
You told me of stories of many lands
Where golden wheat are harvested
And brown bread made of them,
Where men ate the tasty ginger bread
And drink wine, brewed of fine almonds
Where horses on white beaches ride
And the cliffs prove where earth ends,
I heard of waterfalls and nature’s songs
And I wished for these all day long!
You sang of places where women dance
And when they turn and laugh, they waltz,
You talked of places on far away hilltops
Where white snow quietly melt and drop,
You spoke of fine deers, wild hops and birds
Where mountains touch the sky and eagles glide
Now I dream of these places in my sleep
But you, little feather have seen it all
For you and your accomplice, the wind sailed away
While I sat, yearning and dreaming all day
I never knew today was Ekpo (masquerade) day in Umukwu, Ovim. I was having a little nap when the noisy drummers arrived with the masquerades.
When I was growing up I witnessed many masquerade carnivals and took particular interest in Ebulu–ogu – the biggest and stout masquerade. They are known to be merciless and stubborn. This is evident in their imposing looks. A masquerade’s size may signify that the wearer is either huge or small and could be strong or weak physically and spiritually, as the case may be. Masquerades have different nicknames and come in different shapes, colors and attires. They normally move in groups and it is rumored that lonely masquerades are most dangerous and are always on a revenge mission. So here’s a tip: if you ever come across a lonely masquerade, run away!
Masquerades gather in each village square with their drummers to dance and entertain people. Afterwards they are offered gifts, food and drinks. They usually don’t speak and are armed with sticks and machetes.
In Igbo land, masquerades are perceived as messengers of spirits. It is believed that masquerades possess supernatural powers and when a man dress as one, becomes controlled by spirits.
Tip 2: It is taboo to unmask or beat a masquerade. It is a serious offense and may have grave consequences!
I remember how these masquerades turned me into a sprinter. They hit people with their sticks. Each time I encounter them, I had to outrun them or get beaten!
I will be back with poetry. See ya.
This morning I and Jindu traveled back to our village. Thanks to the holidays we have enough time to explore and enjoy the quiet countryside.
We took the 6.30AM bus and arrived 10.23AM. It wouldn’t take that long but for bad roads and many checkpoints. It is common for Governments to abandon capital projects here.
Now it is a cold evening and I may write a poem before retiring. Have a good night everyone.
Safari is a term used for expeditions to observe or hunt animals in their natural habitats. It has a Swahili origin and it is commonly used in East Africa.
You might want to consider Safari as a holiday option. There are beautiful things waiting for you to enjoy. The misty sunrise and magical sunset will baffle you. The swift flowing rivers and numerous mountains will entice you. There’s diverse wildlife, birds, flora, something for everyone to see and reflect on.
Everything here has a touch of gold and if you are a nature lover, you should consider making Africa your second home. Don’t take my word for it, come see for yourself.
Do you like to see the sun rise and set in a land of variety and magical wonder? Africa welcomes you.
#Kenya #Serengeti #Wildlife #Africa #Uganda #Kilimanjaro #EastAfrica
Have you heard of Cotonou?
Cotonou is a large port city on the south coast of Benin, in West Africa. At the eastern end of central Boulevard St. Michel is the huge Dantokpa Market, which features religious items and spices alongside everyday objects. To the southwest, the 19th-century Cotonou Cathedral has a striking red-and-white striped facade. Nearby, in the Haie Vive district, the Fondation Zinsou museum shows contemporary African art.
The languages spoken differ, French leading as the Lingua Franca. Some English is spoken too and a host of other native languages (Yoruba, Bariba, Fon etc). There are several industries in the city. As a port, fishing is one of the most common businesses. Where there’s a coastline there’s a beach, right? Cotonou boasts of several pharmaceutical, textile, leather and cosmetic companies too.
People from different countries call Cotonuo home and it has a low crime rate. To me, Cotonuo is one of West Africa’s finest. It has the sophistication of a small modern town and the feel of the sea is just a look away! Cotonou is an African town with a French touch. Wouldn’t you like to explore Africa? Visit Cotonuo in Benin Republic.
Many walked the path, many might never return
Before the days go dry, the town will be half empty
Many sought the way to gold, with so much energy
That the essence of life itself is lost to the cause
The outsides of the town show signs of wealth;
Just by the gates the green lush forests beckon,
In those forests, wildlife and flowery vegetables abound,
Swift flowing rivers carry logs to other unknown lands
And the birds sing joyfully, that one might forget her sorrow
Beneath the soft soils, the roses grow and the hares burrow
Fruits fall from trees, turn sour, decay and fertilize others
Fresh forest airs and scenery heal the eyes from a far distance
The mountains shield the gold as many will say
And if they could summon a little courage
To find the caves the wildmen kept, maybe
Just maybe, the pathway will bless their hope
But when many walk the path, many will never return
The clouds sing of Your Glory mighty One
The wind surf the mild waters of the ocean
Nature is just one of Your Great masterpiece
The Earth is Your masterpiece
She spins up the space like a speck of dust
Which fall with the others when it is time
The snow melts down into the soil with time
She feeds the moisture starved grasses
With time we are left with lush greens!
See the sun set over the hills and greens,
Watch the little mistletoe grow on the garden
Let the wonders of our Gods creation unfold
For no one can ever be like Jehovah
My land is green
Africa, my Africa
Together we win,
My humble desire
Your arms are long like the bamboo weed
The smoothness of the riverside air sooth it
The hornet, the weavers all spread your seed
And with joy, we come to you to inherit
Your moments are fun, beautiful, we are joyful
You are full of splendor, full of colorful butterflies
We wait to see the yam sprout, we are hopeful
With the coming rains, we plant our rice
But wait, soon the sun will shine here
Soon the sleepy forests will come alive
Soon I shall be traveling, here and there
And soon I shall see your pretty smiles
The greenness of this land know no bounds
(Remind me) that these colors I must never get used to
Let the quietness of my soul, of this great land
Paint many colors and let it all be sweet hues
I am surrounded by thousands of trees
Which danced for me in the dewy morning
In the evenings crickets hide in the shrub leaves
Finally, in these I happily put my hopeful singing
Farewell to thee city
It is time I move
I long to stay
But something else calls
I wish to play
But if I do, what shall I gain?
The clouds are grey
All is solemn
But despair not
I shall continue to write
To paint colors
To draw smiles on faces
To tell tales of inspiration
To do my best for mankind
To warm the hearts that love
To listen to the trees
To sing with the Wind
And foremost to love
But then forget not
My little efforts with desires
Of being with you
My strong rainy nights
My cricket room mates
The cold in the evenings
My window outpost
My blue eyed Clouds
The birds that twitter
The lullabies of the roof top
And the stories of my loved ones
I shall take a moment
To plead you to stay safe
And soonest, God willing I shall make
The ink and the pen my life
Godspeed to me
God stay with thee
Dear esteemed readers,
I am moving to another town, where I school. I shall try to post poems when I am free. I might be engaged with my academic books and the local radio.