iAmDiipo

A Walk No thanks to Demola all my resolve to avoid drinking last night was defenestrated immediately he showed up at my doorstep. I had already turned in and was about to turnoff the lights when he barged in on me as he's wont to do on Friday nights. Anyway I was happy to see the dude and we went beer hunting we ended up in a dimly lit lounge and a few bottles of Guinneses later we decided to call it a day at about 1 a. m. Well, that wasn't bad considering our antecedents; perhaps age is eventually catching up with us. Sleeping was made easy, the alcohol did it's job. I woke up with a low key headache blasting subtlely at the back of my head. My joints were like super-glued, I knew I couldn't move them even if I try. I checked the time and was shocked to see it was already six in the morning, there was a light traffic on Eko Bridge, there were also a couple of joggers heading towards National Stadium. I knew I needed to workout but I was tired, very tired. I l...

Like every Saturday morning I woke up hungry, a bit jaded and Hoping to catch some leftovers I ventured into my kitchenette And lost my hunger at the sorry sight Of a wearied mouse in a bucket of water Tired from trying to climb out It paused at my sight, bowed its head For a moment, it bobbed up again Our eyes met and locked Its pleading eyes were unmistakable No doubt begging to be rescued I was moved to act, to save the unlucky mouse I propmptly carried the bucked into the yard And drained the water away slowly At last the mouse was out, and save I hope But she wasn’t, she could not be saved She tried to run but could not Her four legs could not carry her She shivered, bubbled and swaggered sideways She was going to die of cold, I think My mind was turn into two To leave her to fate or offer mercy killing For a second I turned my back, to leave Then saw a rock the size of a serving plate Which I carried and slammed on the dying mouse The mercy killing has...

HOPE We are the last ones left Left behind in the hail of dark dusts Raised by the dying souls of our fathers As they hastened into the trenches and By and by unto their premature ends Our mothers have lost us They bathed us in hot tears The tears they shed for our fathers And left us to dry in the sun Now they have all gone, gone Gone to the village market, never to return We heard, the enemies overtook them They sucked dry their breast-milk And left them to die in the market square We are the last ones left Our mothers lost us Ere they taught us to sing to the gods Who will teach us to blow the Oja Who will teach us to beat the Udu We are the last ones left Left behind in these hails of dark dusts Of echoes of gunshots and bombs Of fractured dreams and limbs Of hungered scalps and malarious stomachs We are the last ones left We are the children of hope We shall dry our tears today We shall repair our dreams As the sun rises We will hope. Diipo Fagbolu...

In the early of dawn, I broke bread with wine Words would not do, so I drew out my sword And honed its life-roughened edges On the forgotten whetstone in the yard I stood in the moonlight My sash knotted tight, Face painted for the battlefield, I clutched my decorated shield Swung my shining scimitar And headed for the office.

Why is it that of the touches I have felt Yours stood yet very tall above the rest As the sky is always high above the soil, Why is it then that I have to wait forever Only to see that lustrous shine in your eyes That once sparkled on my pen and poetry, Why have the elements connived to unbridge us Even we, abetted the disunity as time laughs by And I, am left to diet on memories sweet And to relish past yet potent moments That you and I alone knew.

“I’m sad" I said to no one in particular not knowing my mentor was right behind me. “My son, why?" He asked “I dunno, I dunno why I I..." I stuttered “I know why you are sad son" He cuts in, in his usual grandfatherly voice “How" I said "how could you possibly know why I am sad when I am yet to figure it out” And then he launched into a lengthy one "Life becomes sad when you expect too much; you cannot fill a cask with the juice of a single grape. When you expect too much from a situation, the little you get seems like nothing" he paused, coughed and continued "Aspire, desire my son, but do not forget that even the next breath is uncertain" He patted me on the head and left.

I LOST two consecutive chess games to an average player yesterday evening. I resigned the first game after my 38th move, because I have made a lot of mistakes and was materially behind. I decided to resign, on the grounds that I could not catch up based on my analysis of the immediate situation. The second game started soon and I eventfully lost despite my determination and the skillful efforts I deployed to win. When I got home to sleep I did a quick analysis of the games and realized that I lost the second one simply because I wasn't enjoying the game as a game; I was thinking too deeply and too much, every of my move was carefully considered for all possible outcomes. And I lost on time because my opponent was only enjoying himself and he didn't have to think too much. I later analyzed the first game and grasped too late that I could have won if I had not resigned as my opponent's positioning was awry and precarious but I didn't see that, all I saw was my ma...