Worries of a train

From where i stood,i could see the train approach. So beautiful from a distance. So slow. Couldn’t  help but wonder, “oh dear Mr train, will you ever reach your destination?” The nearer  it came, i could see clearly  its passagers, the well dressed gentlemen always reading magazines, their  neighbouring  friends  who either didn’t  afford to buy one and all they could do was stretch  their necks so as to read and keep themselves busy.

The ladies who assumed they were well up  and classy and didn’t  want their neigbour lady who had six young children all dirty and smelly cramped up  in one chair get near them. I assumed all they did was give her wierd looks that when put in words would read,”haven’t  you heard of family planning?”

About that young lady, her hands on her cheeks, deep in thought, not aware of her neighbouring  friends some on their mobile phones. The train had all kind of people. Loud music, gossips, politics, loudmouths,crying,  laughter, all kind of noise. All these people had something in common, worries,problems  they all wished could be solved.

As the train passed by, i thought, now that it carried all those worries and problems, who was to carry its own?

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Mirror on the wall

Mirror mirror on the wall, dont tell me who’s  the fairest of them all. It may not be me,  then I’ll  be jealous and green with envy. Oh mirror, if it ain’t  me where will my self-esteem  be? Where will my ego  go?  Will i walk with my head held high or will i become a snail, slow or an ostrich, bury my head on the sand?

But dearest mirror on the wall. I know am the prettiest of them all. I see it in their eyes as i walk by. Why do you think i  walk with my head held high? Nway mirror on the wall help me understand being me. So what that i am or i am not the fairest  of them all? Does it count oh mirror on the wall

Sunset

The sun. How do i define you? Soo beautiful that i fear to look at you directly. Your beauty , a combination of charm and harm. The only defination i have is, you rise and set so beautifully.

So i wonder, just as you set,our lives will come to an end, but will it be as beautiful as you, sunset? Will we whither  in style or scorch  as we set? But i understand, everythng that rises also sets. No problem or situation stays forever just as  the sun rises and sets

I have to say

Something friends and enemies have in common. They broadcast your failures  and whisper your success. They all envy you and try to stab you at times. They talk behind your back. The best thing about your enemy doing all this, it never hurts.

So dear friend if i  say what i want to say,  i would say i hate that you are my friend and enemy at the same time. I hate that you envy and hate my success. So choose what you want to be , enemy or friend

The patriotic me.

The patriotic me.

So our flag symbolises  peace, blood, people  and  landscape atlist that what i learnt.if need be i would add love and patriotism. I checked all round for corruption, tribalism alot of  politics, i didn’t  find any not even in the constitution.

I know in many countries all people hear are fabricated lies and empty promises. It makes me wish that we lived in those old days where people lived in the forest and batter trade was all the business there was. Money was no priority  but humanity was.

People shared the little there was. The system of governing  the people was fair and just. Not that there were no flaws then but hey, we know the lies were less then. Nway someone once said, for communication  to be understood and taken into consinderation, it needs to be emotional  and less truthful.

So I’ll  give you alittle lie. As a citizen am satisfied with all there is in my country’s  government. I dont hate the fact that promises are never kept. This aint a lie though, i love my country.we all do.

What do you think?

So many people want to impress, create or get  attention.  If you dont like me, why would i keep on trying to get u to. People come and go.why strain so much when you can always create new friends.

I dont have to dye my hair red for me to fit in. What if am allergic to red? Should i kill myself then? You don’t  have to be a slave for you to belong . Why let people decide who you are?

You may choose me to lead your life, i may happen to be lost and need direction. If i end up ditching  you in a hole, would you blame me. Boost your esteem take charge of your life, people have theirs to care for. We all know what happens when one becomes a master over two things.

My neighbour

We all  have that journalist neighbour, who without  ever joining a journalism class, has all the journalistic qualities plus a few of his/her own but lacks professionalism. They know who did what,when and why.

They know who cooked what by just looking at the bin. They are well equiped with the knowledge whether right or wrong and cares not if you take it or not. Correction to such a neighbour is like a sharp sword,they also never lack words to say. They visit with stories and leave with much more to tell.

Be careful with them when they visit. For whatsoever  you say, shall be used against  you in the court of your fellow neighbours or the one you gossiped. They have a degree and have gone through almost every expirience. Talk of a rich uncle you’ve  got, they too have. About that poor aunt of yours, theirs beg on the street. So you were robbed, have you not heard  they were carjacked. They don’t  even own a car.

So to all those such neighbours, you might make where we live an interesting place but we are tired of your dramas. Tired of the fight you pick with almost everyone. Did  we say about  how much we hate that you know so much about us  things that we too don’t  know?  Lemmi end here for now, but dear journalistic  neighbour  would you try and get a life of your own?

Dear village girl

So,a dear friend of mine wrote this amazing letter to city girls.  Complained how they should understand village girls and dared them to join her in the village even for a day, then they will understand  why they behave the way they do. So i decided, i am going to write to the village girls, for them to understand why i put on makeup, why my lips seem to change colour, or why i hide my natural hair under horses hair which they need to know has a name, wigs and weaves.

So, dear village girl.

I hate how you judge me. That you say i have a fake accent. That i smell different. You complain of how my hands are soft and of how i dont know how to cook. Please dont call my sophisticated  classy lifestyte fake. Dont say that i am proud. I didn’t  choose the life i live.

Yes, i irritate you. You see so many wrongs in me.lemmi turn the tables around  for a while.  Dear village girl taking shower and having alittle of makeover doesn’t  hurt. Living like we still in the 15th century doesnt make you better than i am. Have you not heard of lotions? Don’t  let mi talk about the fashion crime. Embrace the new technology. Gone are the days people used to live in the forest and eat insects and wild fruits.

Giving me scary looks will not change who i am. So my dear village girl, don’t  judge me, circumstances made me who i am just like they make you who you are. Judge me less or I’ll  judge you more

Scars of my heart

When stabbed, you feel that intense  pain. The pain that makes you wanna die. If you get stabbed again and again the pain becomes pleasure, you get used to it and refuse to let go and finally  it kills you.

My heart, create a barrier. Have your  wall thick.whenever you get stabbed by disappointments, let the pain hit on your thick wall for the pleasure  it brings will kill you. Turn your scars into flowers they may become too many to create a garden.

Scars of my heart please heal quick, forget what caused you, form a beautiful garden and beware of rodents. They are always too close.