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A Radio Production
“Ah, ah, I am an Ijaw man” he burst out. This was the justification for the chronic womanizing habits of my Uncle Wilmot, he would talk as though it were an irrefutable fact that Ijaw men were incapable of keeping monogamous families, he would swear that having concubines around the country was the hallmark of true Ijaw manhood.
A Father's Lesson
It’s the last play before practice is over. My body aches after yet another day of three sessions, 2 hours each in the blistering August heat. I long for a hot shower, a good meal and a long sleep. Kristine plays me the ball. My legs feel like led, as I fight them to move.
Midnight
I would love to dress myself in midnight,
It is my instant inspiration when it’s near
Want to smell the air before I take a bite,
Swallow it down to suffocate my fear.
I would wear the stars along my neckline,
Absorbing radiance into my pastel skin.
Want to lose my insecurity; become divine,
Want to cry raindrops of liquid porcelain.
I would crumble the moon into tiny bits,
Are You Awake Yet?
Why is it that kids cannot wake you up mornings in a civil manner? They become these creepy little midgets who hover over you in your sleep. Seven out of seven days of the week, I’m forced awake by the feeling that someone is staring at me. I crack one eyelid open ever so slightly and am face to face with my son, who has been standing there for God only knows how long, breathing on me.


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