Every memory of looking out the back door
I had the photo album spread out on my bedroom floor.
It’s hard to say it, time to say it.
These days i hoard them. I don’t use them all up at once. I don’t bring them all out at once. One at a time. Take it out. Look at it. Polish it till it sparkles. Till reflected in it is a smile on my face. That’s what I do with the memories I’ve made. I hoard them. To get me through days of darkness. Coldness. Sadness. Bring out each memory. One at a time. When I need them most. To remember not to forget. To get me through days of coldness...
I miss that town. I miss the faces.
You can’t erase. You can’t replace it.
I miss it now. I can’t believe it.
So hard to stay. Too hard to leave it.
Sometimes I shut the doors just as soon as I open them. Days when the memories of joy sadden me further. My head starts to get messed up and the tears won’t stop falling...
Bye bye bye bye,
Don’t you cry when you say good bye.
There was the teary goodbye. And the sweaty one. That was the part where i felt my heart was being ripped out.
TK: I wonder what mornings in Kano are like...
Do dust particles hang in the air?
Does the muezzin give a consistent musical beat?
I: ...cold. That’s what they are. Cold.
Hot. That’s what they also are. Hot.
if you were to read my life from a-z,
decide to live inside my head, I’d still be a puzzle to you
‘Coz I’ve been to lunch with mystery...
I could explain but you wouldn’t understand...
bí mo p’òwe, bí’m p’òfò... ògbéni, o lè mò...
just let me be...
“Why are you so cold? Why are you so mean?” Why am i so me, you mean? Run along now little boy, ain’t got time to play with you.
This place is ‘deadening’ my brain cells. I need eegits to not ask stupid questions. I need this babe to not ask me to search for it on ‘gurgle’, or that it was in ‘lorkorjar’. Bitch please!
Got lost. Walked in circles with K. Always knew i was directionally challenged but this place is making me look like a retard when it comes to getting around. Too big. All the buildings look alike.
Deadlines. Dead Lines.
How about me enjoying the moment for once?
How about no longer being masochistic?
How about unabashedly bawling your eyes out?
Tisn’t so bad you know, at least there are no mosquitoes and we’ve only found 2 scorpions in my chalet so far.
This place used to be Bagauda Lake Resort. I remember Fela talking about staying here in the 70’s in ‘Fela: This Bitch of a Life’.
There are the rats, big as cats. And there’s Gamzaki who stocks everything. Bet if i asked him for a human head, he’d have it stashed in some corner of his store or ask me to come back for it tomorrow...
The lake is nice. I like to go there sometimes. Twice now i have rode (is it rode or ridden?) a bicycle. I loved that.
We’re not allowed to cook, not even noodles. There’s the Edo woman i buy food from. Bread. Rice. Pounded Yam. She looks like an àdògán.
Spent my first weekend here with a friend’s family in Kano City. Twas Bliss.
Baby whether I’m high or low,
baby whether you’re high or low,
you gotta tip on the tightrope
If I keep telling myself that I’m aight, I’mma be aight, right?
These smiles are starting to hurt.
You’re free but in your mind
Your freedom’s in a bind...
N.B. got posted to Nigerian Law School, Kano. It’s on the outskirts of Kano, in Bagauda. They have all these rules and things; sober skirts, class + light timetables, compulsory attendance and exeats... my head doesn’t do well with so many restrictions. Internet network is very bad. Writer’s block. No escapism there for me. For the first time in over a decade, i actually have to go to school.