THE CONVOY

As I look out the window, sound of cheers deafen my ears The neighbours  just got a puppy I slipped back into the cold bleak feel of my room Putting my head to bed, Stronger than a giant's grip is the tightness on my chest A bit relaxed, I begin to reflect, Why was Cinderella’s shoes made of glass and mine, pure leather? It was Sharon’s birthday, her gown looking so blue in contrast to my bright yellow I remember as I bury it in cool brown mud On the graduating podium, hundreds of laurel round my neck  Still can't feel the happiness that radiates from empty necks It's a wedding ceremony, humans seated in couples but I hold on tight to that empty chair beside I long to imitate the little kid's smile across the road all because mine doesn't feel right I've got a mansion but old Billy's treehouse is all I desire The sun licks up puddles but in forlorn, it abandons my wet eyes Pacing round my driveway, I desire the freedom of little kids on shiny little bikes I

   “Morenikeji!”      My mother’s baritone voice echoed through the walls of our incredibly large hallway. No, the house wasn’t a big one, just badly shaped with the plan drawn by an half-baked draftsman that was Papa's friend. I remember how I lurk in the shadows whenever I didn’t feel like talking to anyone. Mama knew to find me there. “I knew you would be here ohh. Look at you, acting like a big baby. You’ve still not changed.”     I ignored her and just stared at her badly coloured skin, blemished by dangerous chemicals she called body cream. “Mama. When did you start bleaching? It is bad for your health ohh”, I whispered, “Cancer.” ‘Cancer ko. My dear, stop worrying. Everybody’s getting light-skinned these days. You better adjust and let me get you a very nice one for your skin. Dark child like your Papa. Before you divert my attention, you know why I am here oh.”      I didn’t reply and I could sense her temporary calmness seeping away. “Papa can’t do this to me, Mama. He wou

Dakore was the friendliest being on earth. She was the only one that spoke to me that year. Our eyes collided while I was reading all alone in the library that evening. She looked at me, turned her eyes sideways and continued with what she was doing. I made sure I didn’t look in that direction till I left. Little did I know, outside the library stood this same tall girl with chubby cheeks and her smile was like heaven opened revealing badly arranged but extremely white dentition. She waved and I moved towards her.                “I am Dakore. You?”      This what was started a friendship that blossomed so hard, our families became acquainted. We went on vacations, occasions and practically lived together. As close as we were, I never knew my best friend was dying. Her family didn’t. No one did.       On that particular harmattan period, exactly three years since we’ve met, I walked into Dakore's room to find her lying, her body lifeless as her lips were pale white and body stone co