She-the-stranger

I watched her hum her way in and out of the room slamming the door so hard it bounced back on its hinges falling wide open again. Its been 6 days since she came to stay with me and its been 5 days since my irritation began its gradual rise. I have never had to share my space with a stranger before and that is what she still is after 6 days, a stranger! I am usually more friendly than I have been to her but because I have felt more frustration at her presence than companionship, I have kept my distance in case I snap and give her a little more than a piece of my feelings.

Dirty clothes have sat still in a bag by my couch, a damp towel has found its spot on my wardrobe door, strands of hair turn up everywhere and my boots and jackets have found a new owner. I'm more sad at my decision to help this stranger than happy at doing my friend a favour. My friend who I haven't seen in almost 9 years asked me to play host until she-the-stranger finds suitable accomodations. I was quick to accept as I was once a squatter with a friend before I found my place but my host was my friend so I could lounge. Now, I'm stuck with she-the-stranger who wont pick after herself and seems too comfortable in my space; my space which is my solace and now a damp smelly room that reminds me of my undergraduate days.

That humming which would not have mattered on another occassion grated on my nerves as I pulled the duvet over my head. "Please go to school", I prayed silently from under my hiding place. I desperately needed to clean and air my space. 4 hours later, I'm alone "ahhhhh" I sighed in relief, I have at most 7 hours before she-the-stranger returns with her endless questions and over familiarity. I have a few hours to own my space, my solace.

I keep saying to myself, "it could be worse, Ihotu stay calm all izz well"

Way To Go

The most recent irritation to road users is the number of tariffs they have to pay just to use the roads. It’s amazing how different groups waylay drivers and collect all kinds of amounts of money from them as payment for one thing or the other. The worst part is the mode of payment. We all know tax laws are slack in this country but that doesn’t give every union and corporative the excuse to become hoodlums and terrorists.

Take Abuja for example (I live here so I should know), road workers are made to pay for tickets everyday or they will be penalized with a higher sum than they owed. A few months ago, a taxi driver I know went to Mararaba, the first town in Nasarawa State coming from Abuja and was fined for not having a receipt that carries the Nasarawa State emblem even though he had one with the FCTs’. You have to note that the only demarcation between Mararaba and Abuja is a pillar and the same buses run through the two towns.

The Difference He Made ~ Anonymous

I don't know who wrote this piece but it touched my heart and I hope it touches something in you.



"THE DIFFERENCE HE MADE"...'Amidst the morning mist of the swift returning tide, I set out on my daily run, my walkman on my side.Lost within my private world apart from cares and woes, I ran along the moistened shore, the sand between my toes. In the distance I saw a boy, as busy as can be.He was running,stooping,picking up, and tossing in the sea. Just what he threw, I couldn't tell, I looked as I drew near.It seemed to be a rock or shell~as I approached him I could hear. 'Back you go,where u belong,your safe now hurry home.Your family's waiting for you little starfish,hurry on!It seemed the evening tide had washed the starfish on the shore, And the swift receding water left a thousand there or more. And this self-appointed savior,was trying one-by-one to toss them back into the sea, against the racing sun.I saw his plight was hopeless, that most of them would die.I called out from my private world,'Hey kid, why even try?'. 'Must be at least a thousand here, strewn along the beach, And even if you had the time, most you'll never reach.You really think it makes a difference, to waste your time this way?'And then I paused and waited,just to hear what he would say. He stooped and took another, and looked me in the eye.'It makes a difference to this one sir, this starfish will not die!' With that,he tossed the little life,back where there was hope.He stooped to take another.I could tell this was no joke. The words that he spoke to me cut like a surgeon's knife.Where I saw only numbers,he saw only life. He didn't see the multitude of starfish on the sand.He only saw the little life he held there in his hand. He didn't stop to argue,to prove that he was right.He just kept tossing starfish in the sea with all his might. So I too stooped and picked up, and I tossed into the sea, And I thought just what a difference, that this boy has made in me."