MY THOUGHTS EXACTLY

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BY MICHEAL ACHILE UMAMEH
Rodents of Westeros invade
Aso rock presidential villa, Abuja.
A song of Lice and Lies
King Buhari of the House Stark took refuge
in Winterfell, central London infirmary
recovering from the poison of unnamed ghost.
Suddenly the
The wild child of the rainforest
And
The wildlings of the Harmattan
are barking expulsion across the Niger
From the cursed parchments.
The October vexations still labours.
Then Femi Adesina, the hand of the king,
Arose with the voice of seven thunders
To announce the arrival of Buhari Stark.
10,000 Maniacs of the seven kingdoms
flooded the street with songs and thongs
Oyoyo, oyoyo, oyoyo, they ululate.
Tired and tested from the holy pandemonium
Gov. Yahaya Bello of Riverrun
Ordained a feast of idleness.
While the wives of women
And the husbands of men
Where at war with shadows.
The rodents of Westeros
Invaded Aso Rock Presidential Villa.
Now Jon Snow of Julius Berger
Knows, winter is coming
And the Night’s Watch waits
Will Buhari Stark, take the iron throne?
Hear the song of Ice and fire
Sing a song of mice and rats.
As the rodents take the iron throne.

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You must have heard a lot of things concerning angels. As a child growing up was another story when it comes to issues concerning angels. I or we were made to believe that angels are hidden from one’s naked eyes and that, angels were special bodyguards sent by God to protect us.
As children it made life easier and less hectic, most especially when everything seems not to be moving anymore. That preaching and story became our weapon and strength against fear and sadness. But one thing I can tell you is that I have seen one before. Surprise!
I have seen him in physique. He appeared Warm and hesitant in every good things both little and big. He was some feet tall and some inches. He was neither fat nor was he slim but of average. In his eyes and smiles was my happiness. He was none else other than my father.
I always have this dream of being like my father. A dream that was so complicated. The way he walks, talks, sits, eats and in shorts everything like he does. I have even started posing like him in photo. I wish I could be successful and God-fearing like him, but at the long end, I found out I could never be like him. It was just clear why. There was no one in this universe like my father. Father was the best among the best. If not for God, I would have worshipped him, wear clothes with his photo printed all over, hang his photo all over the walls of my home, and put his photo before my bed so it will be last thing I see before sleeping and the first after waking up. To me the world was not enough for a substitute for my father. I could sacrifice it for my angelic papa.



Do you know that feeling when you are hurt so much and you just want to cry! I mean you want to let thousands of droplets of tears out of your swollen eyes, but you wouldn’t be able to because you have no single tears left in there.
That time when you could feel the blood in your heart dripping like the remnant of rain on the zinc, after a long downpour that continuously drips down on the earth; and the chest up to your upper abdomen hurts so much as though someone is in there frying some delicacies.
Or that time when your heart beats violently against your chest or breast making a tapping sound as though your chest were a window pan that got controlled over by a heavy wind.

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This is what happen when I buried those moments beneath that no penetrable part of my being, and let them eat me dry and hurt me alone. Mahatma Gandhi said “no one can hurt us except by our permission” don’t you think it applies to only a few persons?
This few years of mine, I have spent my miserable life like an object among humans. I don’t know what joy and happiness look like; I have become a human without any other feelings aside pain and sorrow.
Everyone complain about how cold I have become, how uninteresting my life had turned into. No one really cares to ask how I landed into this and how I will get out of it.
Each time people are gathered in their multitude rejoicing, there is this ache, a terrible one that burn down through my heart and rendered me helpless. At times I wish I could cry but it was impossible since my soul had become like become a desert deserted by rain for years, no tears would flow. This pain and sorrow, and its story is a long one that I wouldn’t be able to narrate today, for today is a day of lamentation – even though am not sure of tomorrow am pretty sure for tomorrow, my story will narrate itself.       



Growing up as a kid we were made to believe one terrible thing, something no one really had a clear cut understanding of, until age and little intelligence caught up with some of us. I must admit I am one of such kids whose life had been dragged up and down in the mud of life riddles. 

It was just last two month ago that the real deceit of life caught up with me. I sat under the mango tree close to the road and I was counting every one of the cars, motorcycles even bicycles that pass me by. Don’t ask me why, because I will tell you before you do. 

I happened to be the third born of my mother. My father died before I could even learn how to walk. I was just six months old when he died and left us in the crazy world. Mum didn’t have the opportunity of continue her secondary education before she got married to dad. Unlike other families dad refused to sponsor her higher education after marriage. The reason was visibly clear like the sky is even in the thickest dark night. 

Mum was extremely beautiful and young when dad married her. The fear of other men snatching his angel from him made him not to send her to further her education instead he setup a business for her.

Dad worked with a Lebanese construction company and never had much time to spend with the family as the nature of their work was such that they hardly spend up to three months in a place, so I never had the opportunity of knowing him.

Two months after I was born, my elder sister, the second was admitted in the clinic. It was confirmed she had pneumonia. According to hear say that was when dad was rushing home to meet his only daughter and had the unexpected accident that took away his life. It was a devastating situation for mum as her life came crumbling down. Her hope and future was shattered. 

Few days later, to make the situation worse, my beautiful sister died even though I never knew her, I was very sure she was beautiful. Most people say she was the exact copy of mum.
Even though mum was young she refused to remarry but took a hard decision which was to give us a better life through her petty trading business. She struggle and cry just to make sure we were happy and ever smiling. 
When went to private schools, both primary and secondary school and one thing that made her not lose hope was the fact that we were always in the top five every of the sessions.

It was after secondary school that everything changed for us. Mum made a decision that we were all happy about because we understood our conditions. I was made to wait for my big brother to finish university before I start mine. May be he might be lucky and get a job immediately after school and therefore reduce the stress mum had to go through to provide money for two of us. I was just 17 years old when I finished secondary school, so it was a good thing that age was on my side. At least starting university education at age of 21-22 wasn’t too bad.  I learnt so many things such computer graphic design, electronic repairs and other minor things. 

It was a great news that big brother had finished school after four years with a first class in Economics. We were overjoyed and celebrated him like a king. Mum looked straight into my eyes and I already knew what she wanted to say.
“you better do more than him when you start soon” 
“haba mum what is better than first class”

We joked and laughed at them. That night it was as if we had no problem at all.
About five months later, big brother went to camp for his NYSC in the far northern part of the country. I couldn’t wait for him to come home for Sallah break that November. 
Preparations were made as big brother told us he was coming home for Sallah. Our hero was coming home and we couldn’t wait a bit as we call him every hour to ask about his journey. 

Towards evening that day we received a call from big brother but the voice was a deep cracking one. 
“am I speaking with Muhammad?”
He asked and my heart was already beating against my chest heavily as though people were pounding inside of it. 
“Please what is wrong” 

-you may be required to come to Federal Medical Centre Lokoja for identification please. 

“Identification of what?” I asked but this time no reply came through.
In my mind I already knew something terrible had occurred but how do I break the news to my hypertensive mum! I mustered the courage and lied to mum that big brother was at FMC doing medical checkup as directed by the NYSC officials.
“Mum we may be require to meet him there”

-but why can’t we wait for him to come home? She said as I search my head for another lie. 
In midst of our argument another call came through mum phone but this time they broke the news in black and white. 
“madam we are sorry we lost him” was the last statement I heard from the call on speaker phone. 
Like a dream mum fell to the ground too and she too never woke up, and that was how life gambled with my destiny.
                  


Sitting under the tree remembering all these from the fountain of memory I became devastated and not minding the road I crossed without looking and got collide with a car. The car passed over my left hand.
“am sorry we will have to cut it off” 

The doctor said as though I were some sorts of a tree in a lonely forest. I cried to stupor as I watched my destiny being cut off. I didn’t finished education and the handiwork I learnt also had become irrelevant. 
Mum used to say everyone’s destiny was in their hands and now the doctor has chop off and buried my destiny…. 



If one were to ask me what happiness is and where and how one could obtain it, I will but only say it lies within that special depth in our heart. Most people would attribute their source of happiness to one object or persons. You can’t really blame them for doing such nor applaud them for it. It’s a long ancient norm that has prevented us from achieving life’s greatest goal, which is, true happiness.

Everyone need or want this or that!

 

Some people want love and because they can’t find that love every other thing in life is but nothing to them. Because of the lack of love, their heart created a wall against every other beautiful thing that life has to offer. Believe you me; it would be against nature for everyone to love and be loved. Am sorry to say that but it’s the bitter truth. When we lose love we should not live our life depending on something that would never last forever. Nothing was ever made to be so except the one who created and made everything to be as it is.

 

From the view of various people, believe me this doesn’t concern tribe, religion or race. It is a worldwide already broaden trait that is extremely contagious and permanently persistent, that one might believe it is an innate feeling.

 

Being happy is indispensable to human lives, but how do we safeguard it?

How do we cultivate it?

How do we deal with it?

 

It is a sorry thing that one’s happiness depends on material things or temporary human relations. Simply put if you cannot find any reason to be happy when you lack things, be rest assured that the happiness which such thing brings comes with an expiry date!

 

You might ask how, well as humans, our needs and wants for things grow every day, the more we get the more we want and when the time comes for our needs to be short in supply, we fall into depression and anxiety. We tell ourselves that without any of these possessions we are worthless and we degrade ourselves to the level of the unfortunates, and that exactly is where the problem lies.

 

In my world, I do not know about yours, I do not believe that anyone could fall into the ‘unfortunate’ category. Every stage of human life hardship or success is a part of the long extraordinary script of destiny, the truth which lies therein is that fight dirty or clean, the spot at which you are right now is exactly where you are supposed to be. Our actions may tend to either hasten or slowdown fate, but whatever the plot of your life entails must come to pass eventually.

 

Someone talked about learning to let go of our inner demons, no, for me, I suggest you do not let go of them, embrace them and show them you know where your downfalls and mistakes lie, but you will not let it dictate to you about how to live, love and be happy.

 

Acknowledging ones faults are the greatest ways to experience joy, talk to closest friends, listen to people a lot, even in times of arguments, ensure to focus on the tone of their voice, and explain kindly that they have hurt you. If they apologize, accept the apology and move on, if you are at fault apologize quickly and do not repeat similar actions.

 

Life becomes hard when we focus and concentrate on the dark sides. Study the darkness and seek an antidote, if there isn’t anyone available, then chase the light and eventually, the light will embrace you.

Stay happy and positive always, for THERE’S ALWAYS SOMEONE HAVING IT WORSE THAN YOU MIGHT THINK. PRAY FOR YOURSELF AND PRAY FOR OTHERS TOO.

 



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