A letter to Her, from Me

Lying on my bed with so much I could do; notes to study for tests, novels to read for leisure, food to cook for lunch, I am not lost for what to do and even the time I think I have, might not be enough to accomplish all these. I could blab on and on about more things I could be doing this afternoon, but sometimes, the mind only has one thing it would rather be doing asides which, nothing else can satisfy.
Yesterday, as I sat on that chair staring at you, I was captivated by your smile; the way your lips curved, like Cupid’s bow, shooting a quiver at my heart; the upper lip marked with a beauty mark on each half, the faint on the left and the evident, that one on the right. I stared into your eyes, drowning in their power to stop time. YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL.
I marvelled at your intellect, I can’t outright say how, but I saw your willingness to learn and amass information. Few things, only few things attract me more to ladies, and that’s not all.
I remember the first day I actually came to see you, that day your cohort studied on what not to give in a relationship. Now, I’m not in any way as innocent as I should be. I have known women, maybe more than a few, and I wasn’t planning for a ‘sexless-ba-touching’ relationship when next I dated. Somehow, I had given up on finding a woman who still held on to such ageless morals and virtues. Maybe I felt undeserving of such a woman but you guys brought back to my attention; there are those set apart – who refuse to eat of the ‘King’s table’ but are better nourished.
This is still not all but it touches the three things I look out for in people, In women; The Body, The Mind, and The Spirit… In no particular order.
I don’t believe there is one person fashioned by the creator for each and everyone of us, or to have success in a relationship, a family, we must find and connect to that one. I don’t believe people fall in love or out of love, God is not an accident. I do believe though, that we Love, a decision we can make or not. I believe we are created thus.
I can’t describe sufficiently how I long to hear your voice, that tiny treble musical in every note. Your captivating voice.

I’d love to kiss you. Whatever follows should be fun and I can’t say I never thought of the various possibilities, but I will respect you, whatever your decision – the best wine takes time and I am willing to wait for that perfection –  this is assuming I am lucky enough to have the conversation go that far.

I decided that first day I came to see you. I want to open up my heart to you, to give you my all if you welcome me. I would like to date you, and hope it doesn’t end there if you are willing… Only if you are willing.
I decide to Love you.
I realise opening our hearts to Love is a hard task. It opens us up, makes us feel vulnerable with neither armour nor shield, yet, that I would like to dare ask of you. “Open up your heart, welcome me.
You’ve said you want to take your time, that I respect. You don’t want to go into yet another mistake, that I understand. You believe you’d know the one when you see him, so I’m tempted to just be cowed and probably never show you this writing, wait for that love angel to show you a picture of me as I pretend I’m contented being your friend, wanting nothing more. That may save my head from another No, the two alphabets of rejection that makes some feel ‘Not Good Enough’ as maybe, just maybe you feel nothing for me…

…. But I won’t, I didn’t, I just showed you.

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HANG IN

Dear sons,
I have missed chances and overlooked privileges, I have failed attempts and successful outcomes, and all of them have shaped me to the man writing this letter.

Please find love in your teenage hood, don’t wait till everything is grey and stale, careful and unadventurous. Don’t wait till all the pulse is collapsed.
Find love and don’t clog your heart; let her in and walk you through your dark corridors. Your heart thumb loud, and she’d make your lips say funny words. Don’t forget to tell her how beautiful her nose is, mimic how she throws her head from side to side when she smiles. Tell her how her gait reminds you of a childhood dream, how her scent seduces.

Tell her also how angry she makes you, and if ever be a moment to be jealous, shut your lips.

Love is beautiful, and don’t you mind what anybody will tell you, it is the best of things. So when she finally breaks your heart, and she will; don’t hate love for it, don’t forget love is beautiful still. That the sharpest knives cut deepest and the most beautiful things hurt most. But you should still fall in love and don’t clog your heart, the scars of heartbreak will strengthen you more than any whip on naked back can. Think less about her and let her stay in the history she choose. If you ever have the might, forgive her, remember she is just lost in the world like you, or your sisters.

I’d beg you, fall in love again. Find a woman you love and loves you back and stay faithful to her, yet do not waste energy on a love that wants to leave; it’s sign post for the blind and music for the deaf.

As your teenage peak and the hormones rage, and the girls don’t give more than kisses, you’d be tempted, first in the shower, to stimulate your erection and stroke it back to flaccidity.
Neither I nor your mother will be there, and I cannot promise you that it will feel bad or you will try to stop, the urge will surge, and crack you at late lonely nights. It is additive, it weakens the bones and toxic to the brain, it will attack your self-image, and soon it will be awkward to stare at your mother’s beautiful iris comfortably. But your mother, do not stop to behold her beauty please, allow your brains to evolve and your bones, concrete.

Money is funny, and not even I understands it well. It is a concubine, visiting when all is dark and dead, and leaving before the torch behind the skies light. It’s a concubine whose naked skin and back-door acrobatics will leave you insatiable. I hope this will be easy for you, but like all skillful concubines, they will snap your spine if you let them. They are best gifted to the bachelor with no woman and much need for a cozy skin; give out money as soon as you’ve earned it– and yes, you must earn all your money, it will fetch you honour and loyalty. You will find out how cheap people are, and your spine will stay by you till old age.

You will get to school and it will be hostile there from the first day. You’d cry and find someone who will make you cry, but please, stay in school. Do your assignments yourself, that way you won’t feel out of place when you sneak pornography between your notebooks, you won’t feel like an empty head when you’re chased out of class. Stay in school and learn fancy English, and calculus and relativity of matter. Read books twice as you sleep, tell your mother when school becomes difficult; I might not understand you well enough.

Just stay in school and keep learning daily, and one day, just when you’ve learnt enough, money will find you. Nobody finds it, it finds us. And you will know when it has found you, it might propel you to finish the degree or compel you to stop in your track, but like all matters of the heart, you’ll know when it’s your call.

Church and religion is difficult to talk about, it is mostly political and limiting. Find a religion that reads a book, has order, respects the neighbours and has flaws historically. Bow to their god and meditate a lot, until you can obtain absolute solitude, do not call yourself a god, solidarity with your brothers and worship of your creator is your best strength. You must not inherit my church, but respect the rosary, make the sign-of-the-cross when you are out on options, say “My help is in the name of the Lord” when you’re troubled, and “Glory be to the father” when you’re grateful. Fast and forgive trespassers, other than these, stay away from the drunken argument of religion and its sickening politics.

Emotions will rush afore you like dust in the Sahara, but be calm and strong. Fear and anger are bilious, do not taste them, do not serve them. Gratitude and love can bloat, do not hold them to yourself.

Finally, family is a gift. I speak of your uncles and cousins and grandparents also; the inseparable sheath that feeds and protects you, even the days you doubt these, they love you endlessly. Open your worries to them and let them see your intent. Success or failures must not break the bridges between you, shed-off your garment of pride or sorrow whenever you smell your blood. Family is all you’d ever truly have.

Nel Ibuola lives in Jos, where he studies medicine. He has just finished work on his first book- Things Easily Lost, which he published free electronically on OkadaBooks. This letter is an extract from the short fiction. He tweets from @n_ibuola, and blogs on nelibuola.wordpress.com.

Thanks for the time spared to read this. Please endeavor to leave your thoughts, views and/or comments behind. Your feedback is highly appreciated.

Iyim-Eli

My first love

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The first face I remember
The never disappearing smile that comforts me
I cried, sometimes for food
Sometimes for no real reason asides to be brought nigh to your bosom
The one place I felt safe
You never tired
You are the greatest
The one human I am always sure of, always present
In abundance, in lack, you gave
Your listening ears so caring
Never judging but stern when need arise.
My first love
My greatest love
Happy birthday mother.

Thanks for the time spared to read this. Please endeavor to leave your thoughts, views and/or comments behind. Your feedback is highly appreciated.

Iyim-Eli

Talk about her

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I do not remember how it all started but there she was. A little shy of 6 feet, she stood. She loves the braids, a fro or low cuts. With every style she looks like the inventor. A look into her eyes is colourful. Her smile; a genre of music. The way she walks makes the Queen a learner. With those steps she walked into my life. My lady is beauty. She is the template.

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She speaks to me. We talk. The world stands still. Her voice is soothing, like the Angels on high. Maybe, she is one come to me. Her speech is faultless. No cynicism comes from her; she is an optimist. Her words carry power, authority, yet, she is gentle, never rude. Wisdom gathered from ages of insatiable quest for knowledge flows from her lips; from her actions. She believes in my dream, I believe in hers; we share a dream, what she wants I want, What I want, she wants. My lady reads my mind, I read hers. We understand each other. We are together.

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She is my music and I am hers. I love it when she raps along me, even though missing words from my favourite rap songs. I cherish when she writes love songs about us. We tango, salsa, we cha cha. The ever changing Nigerian dance steps, she teaches me. She loves to dance and I’m ever ready to waltz her. When I let go of her –  she is confident, proud, strong, courageous, she is intimidating; yet meek, humble, kind hearted, she is patient –  she always dances her way back to me. Even though capable on our own, we are complete with each other.

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I can be annoying, sometimes. She isn’t perfect either. We have our fights, the pillows and sometimes the silent treatment. she sometimes says she hates me but her dreamy eyes always tells the truth. I tease her, she teases me. The fights always end before its even noticed. The make-up is always sexy. She is perfect for me.

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She loves to pray. My own loves God. She is spiritual, she is not spooky. She is a believer, she is not religious. She is disciplined, a great mother. Our children adore her, my mother loves her. She is an awesome home keeper, she is hardworking. My lady is beautiful, smart, she is funny and kind. She is worth more than rubies, diamonds and pearls. She is worthy of my love. She means the world to me. She is with me what ever may be, she changes my world, forever.

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She makes me love every day as it’s sure she is by me.  She is my high. She is my Ecstasy. She is my head cheerleader. My swimsuit model. I trust her. She brings me good. No harm.

I love my lady, my lady loves me.

I open my eyes, my love is no where to be found. I worry not. She is on her way. Won’t be a moment late. But while I wait, I build myself, to a gentleman. A man worthy of her, My love.

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How To Love (B)

I hope you haven’t forgotten how this interesting story began but if you did please visit How to love(A)to refresh your memory before you continue. If you haven’t, let the story continue…

… His story had changed. Who is this? He asked himself. He has always had to roam around for kilometers before finding a pack. All around knew to stay away from his territory. They might fall prey someday they all knew and have perfected the will to postpone such occurrence. Who then is this who have run directly into his territory and saw to wallow in his fields?

 

THE HEART BROKEN

The bird glide into her view again and shortly after another followed, its mate possibly. It looked as though they had plan to tease her, to flaunt their unity in the face of her disappointment with the opposite sex. She blinked her eyelids but they were still dry. She needed to weep, tears to drop-burdens to drop

 

THE PREDATOR

He took a step forward, it was far from majestic. The animals around have perfected evading his kind for too long free meals have become possibilities none ever expected. The sight of one before him now raised his suspicion. He moved closer and saw she was still breathing, faintly, but she was still alive. He drew a step backwards, took a deep breathe, roared, louder than he can ever remember and pounced.

 

THE ROMANTIC

He shrieked with fear on hearing the thunderous sound. He had followed her from a distance after she passed him. He had seen her cross the stream, the territory, over to the land unknown and mooed out to her of the danger but she hadn’t stopped. He had ran to catch up with her but who could chase after the fastest of the pack, and catch up? A thought had come up in his mind to give up when she fell and just when he tried to discard the thought he had seen the predator and stopped still. He had no time to think, just to act. His limbs made to run away but his heart made to help. He pushed his hooves to the ground and lowered his head, directing his horns forward he moved.

 

HOW TO LOVE

When she heard the lion roar, she was neither afraid nor did the rhythm of her heart beat change. She had thought it was the end and was willing to embrace it. He had sunk his humongous canines into her right biceps but had gone no further as a bull appeared from nowhere and took the beast over.

Moments later she regained some strength and managed to stand. Both THE PREDATOR and THE ROMANTIC where taking their last breath.

 

The gray haired man cleared his throat, “…and this is the end of my story” he said.

“It is a good story, grandpa, but I do not like that that bull died trying to save someone who dumped him. She did not deserve it” said Tolu, the youngest among Pa James audience

Grandpa James smiled and replied, “We all have someone who loves us so much, we can never deserve”

How To Love (A)

THE HEART BROKEN
Her heart pumped hard and fast, the wind blew into her heavy eyes – drops of tears flew in the air. She wouldn’t stop, yet no idea sprung in her mind where she was running to or in whose territory she now was in. She just kept running, running from what she just saw. How could he? Why would he choose to hurt her this way?
Her sight blurred out and she felt dizzy, the world spun and all went blank.
She opened her eyes to the sight of a beautiful blue sky. A bird glide in the sky. She kept her eyes fixed on it, watched it fly, she wished she could too; fly away from her sorrows, away from the tears and pain.
But she couldn’t. She had no wings. Even if she did, some things can’t just be left behind. Some sight can’t be forgotten. They just go with you, glued to every beat of your heart. She blinked her eyelids to let another tear drop but none did. She had cried all her tears out.
She tried to lift herself up but was hindered by a sharp pain. The picture of what had happened to her stretched in her imagination as though she watched it happen to someone else. Her left shoulder had borne the weight of her whole body. The pain she felt was like that from a thorn driven into left shoulder and dragged through to her lower ribs. She had run so far, so fast her limbs couldn’t take her any faster, any farther. She made to raise herself up again, it was futile, her limbs only shook, they had lost all strength. They had given up on her.

THE ROMANTIC
He smiled. A smile that longed for what he saw. A ram and ewe enjoying a meal together. That simple act made him long for the moment he’d find his special one. One he could share his life with too.
He thought he had found that sometime ago. The day he went to the gushing spring to get a drink with his best pal the pack’s favorite, but it was never to be as the favorite of all didn’t cease to get the favour of the beauty he saw that day. Who wouldn’t want the attention of the one with the longest and curviest horn of all in the pack? One with hump so large only he can carry?
He made to swallow the cud he just finished chewing then she sped by. The cloud of dust that accompanied her made him wonder if it was just one person that had passed. As the dust settled and his vision of her got better he saw it was her. The love of his life who had gotten bond with another. The one he was just thinking about.

THE PREDATOR
His belly churned. He hadn’t had a decent prey in a long while. The heat had driven them all southwards and he hadn’t enough strength to trek too far away from his kingly cave in a quest for bigger meals. He longed for that but would rather manage little than trek in the heat. He picked up the bone left from his last prey and crushing it with his massive molars lifted his head to allow better passage for the pieces. As he lifted his head, he heard the sound of hooves. He turned his head to the direction of the sound and saw her approaching. He could sense she was tired and right in the process of his analysis he saw her fall. Was it his longing for a sumptuous meal that made his imagination go wild or was this real? He thought. He closed his eyes for a few seconds then opened them but she was still there.

Let’s continue our story How to love(B)