Love – Chocolate Flavoured Girl

9/16

Like building a house on a sinking ship
Planting a tree on a buried land mine
Having for a watch, a ticking time bomb
Loving a ghost, and calling it mine

Love feels like coming home they say
I hate to agree, but for a split second it did
Feel like my homecoming indeed
Joyous return from lonely nights away

This love, akin to a sonorous song
It fills my heart, breathing life deep within
On it, all my cares and fears hung
Hopes and dreams; a new dawn to begin

Yet, tis all I have to show
For a love that I have indeed toiled
An endless bounty of naught
Despairs of an empty heart

My love flees like a thief in the night
I have no recourse, no claims to vengeance
What you sow, you surely reap
So I collect my harvest in silent tears

Once a lovely maiden, filled with youth
A thirst for life, love and laughter
She now bargains, pleading for meager mercies
Cast her not into the shadows of the forgotten

Forget me not my lover
Turn not your back on me
I fear I may wither to nothing
Should you take your sunlight away

She begs in desperation, fearing a life alone
Fearing a life without her lover
Her lover, who became the air she breathed
Her lover, who became the joy she had

What she sowed, she reaps
Violent begetting violence
What was not hers, she took
And now she calls another the crook

See her now in the marketplace and spare not a thought
She comes and she goes, a shadow of her own afterthought
A product of a love equally brightening and maddening
Culmination of guilt and regret, in equal measure

Cast her out into the streets, cursed to a life of solitude
Banish from your minds, the memory of her desperate pleas
But forget her not, and let her story serve as a lesson
Lest you look in the mirror to find her staring

The Girl of My Dreams

Over 3 decades ago…

She sat across the table from me at the senior staff canteen

Staring me in the face, her gaze seemed to pierce my soul in a warm way

This ebony beauty! All mine to behold!

In a soft and balanced voice, she asked “What is your name?”

Still shell-shocked, I muttered “…..”

Then she went on “Which department do you work?”

By this time, I had regained some composure

“Mechanical”, I managed to man up

I cannot remember exactly what else we talked about

But how could I forget the smooth voice echoing in my head and melting my heart

I must have said a few things, but she owned the conversation

I could not help but wonder at her grace, voice, choice of words, gesticulations

Her smiling eyes, most beautiful set of teeth I had ever seen…

Every word, and sentence was carefully packaged and delivered

Every trip her hand made from her plate to her mouth seemed to be calculated: pace and delivery

The munching was mechanical; I could almost feel myself moving to her rhythm

Words and food rolled into one beautiful symphony in my heart as I watched and listened

Beauty and brains!

She must be an angel! An angel is sitting across my table!

I was totally mesmerized that I almost completely forgot my food

She seemed to be eating for the two of us

With every spoonful of hers, I was filled and fulfilled

A soft touch on my hand brought me back to life

“Okay, see you around sometime” and she slid out of her seat to drop her plate

“Okay” I said dreamily

As her slim graceful figure disappeared into the afternoon sun behind the revolving doors I suddenly remembered my plate

I quickly rushed a few spoonful down my throat and made it in time to my department

Back at my desk, I could hardly concentrate

I had always seen her from a distance, admired her qualities but never had the courage to walk up to her to say “Hello”

I made several trips to her part of the administrative building with the hope of running into her

I saw her chatting with other people; the possibility of me doing same existed only in my dreams

She seemed so confident with everyone, the junior staff and even the big bosses

And today, oh today, she chose my table at lunch! And no one interrupted us; what luck!

It was like everything and everyone froze with only the two of us moving

I felt like the luckiest man on earth

My heart tripped with all sorts of possibilities and questions …

“If I could …” How will I …” “How will she …”

Then fear crept in …

It was another two weeks before I was able to catch up with her again after lunch

The canteen was the high point of the day for us in the factory; lunch time was our own social convergence

There was always some work that delayed me in my department; like the forces were against me

Then I tried to match her timing to lunch but my table always filled up with men before she got her food

On the flip side, if she was seated before me, her table was over-subscribed

No surprises there; I had stiff competition in an environment of 99.9% male population

But I was not going to give up just like that

So, on this fateful day, I rushed my food and caught up with her as she made her way back to her office

Without rehearsal, the words rolled out of my mouth before my heart stopped, waiting for an answer

“Hello, good afternoon. Would you mind me having your home address? I will like to visit you”

Her soft eyes backed up with the most lovely smile I had ever received was her immediate response

Those white teeth seemed to be receiving the right amount of calcium

“Okay, that will be nice” came next. My heart started beating again

She reached into her pocket; out came a pen and a sheet of paper, which she tore a part of

She scribbled something on it and said a few words

I was dazed. I could hardly believe it. Such a simple task that had taken me weeks

Her soft skin grazing on my rough factory hand brought me back to the present

I managed to mutter “Thank you. See you tomorrow” and made a dash to my department

I could not wait for confirmation of the day for fear of rejection

My head and heart were about to explode!
I managed to contain my excitement as the day went on

Getting back to the single room apartment, I got ready my best shirt, trousers and shoes

Sleep eluded me that night. I could hardly wait for the morning to come

I was going to meet the Girl of My Dreams!

The great, unforgettable and disastrous encounter …

By noon, I was at her address

As a true African beauty, she was having her lovely black hair done in braids ready for the next work week

I received a warm welcome, and that smile again …

She took me into a room and served me a bottle of chilled Coca-Cola and homemade chin-chin

Poor timing, I guessed, she hardly had time for me

My liver failed me when I saw the rows of shoes neatly organized in the room

“She is definitely out of my league” I concluded

From then on, I discountenanced myself as being worthy of this angel

On her part, I seemed not to exist; like I was just a ‘nice’ work colleague who dropped by

After her summer vacation job and my internship at the factory, we both moved on

Yet her image remained ingrained in my heart and soul

She is the Girl of my dreams!

I longed to run into her one day

I prayed and searched for her, to no avail

Her qualities I searched for in every lady I came across, but none matched

Time was running out, I had a business with great potentials and needed to settle down and start a family

My mates already had children in high school

I reasoned, “Surely, she must be happily married to a lucky bloke out there”

But the Girl of My Dreams never left my heart; I still longed for her with every fabric of my being …

Out of the blues, at a function, came another work colleague from back then; an intern too

I called out his name and introduced myself

After catching up for a few minutes, and with great control, I inquired if he was still in touch with some other names I mentioned

I hoped he would help me find the Girl of My Dreams

And yes! He had a number for her! Oh, what divine arrangement!

I could not believe it; 33 years searching for her and getting her number just like that!

Getting home, I wasted no time …

“Hello, is that …?”

“Yes please. May I know who is calling?” … came the angelic sound in my ears

“My name is … We worked together at … in 1983; … gave me your number”

“Oh, really?” she giggled, and my heart sank. Then something more reassuring “How are you?”

After the pleasantries, I went down memory lane carefully touching on the nice spots only

But the Girl of My Dreams had only a faint recollection of the events

I cannot blame her though; I never made my intention known

And she probably got more concrete advances

I was just a faint and distant memory …

Anyways, we chatted over the next few weeks on phone

Finally, we had a lunch date set up

I had to look my best … I wondered if I would still feel the same way when I saw her …

No longer as slim as I remembered, but with no less grace in her steps

With maturity, she looked more elegant and graceful

Her ebony skin still glowing, even better than I remembered it

Those beautiful black braids adorned her hear, neatly bunched up on her head

She strode across the floor to my table, every step mechanically coordinated

My table, again!

But this time, it will be different

I was not going to leave this table without making my intention known, I resolved

The afternoon wore on and we lacked nothing to discuss, moving from one subject area to the other; one discipline to the other, for hours, over lunch and after lunch, running into dinner time

She was just the way I remembered her, just more alluring

Once again, the world around us seemed to have stopped as we chatted, laughed, ate and drank
.
Before departing, and almost without a second thought, I blurted out my 33 year old script, “… will you marry me?”

“Where did that come from?” she calmly asked, in her usual characteristic, her eyes dazzling and a chuckle in her throat

“I will not repeat the mistake of 33 years ago” I declared in a confident tone.

We left the question hanging

I had fulfilled the desire I had lived for, for over 3 decades – seeing her and asking for her love, her response notwithstanding

But life has its own complications …

A glimmer of hope …

Today…

The Girl of My Dreams is my friend once again

What tomorrow has in stock for us is yet unknown

All I know is that I have her in my sights, and I intend to keep her there, whatever her answer …

Author: Yemisi A. Ikuomola

Giving Away

Another piece written by my mother in celebration of my 21st birthday (18-02-1995). Enjoy…💛

–

Omolajipe, my daughter, I am not afraid to let go of your hand knowing you have to hold on to another. I’m content with sharing your heart. I have done the nurturing and I have all the confidence that you will continue the journey, with God bearing you every step of the way. I extend a hand of friendship to the next generation. I will always be here…

Birthday Blessings: Omolajipe

A beautiful piece written by my mother in celebration of my 21st birthday (18-02-1995). Enjoy… 💛

–

Dateline February 18, 1995…

Unto me a beautiful feminine gift was given. Fragile, but very beautiful. And I’m the custodian, for life! Wow! What a divine privilege. Over the next few years, as I began to unwrap this gift, I realized she was, and still is, a bundle of talents. Full of life, I watched as this gift developed and grew even more beautiful wings to fly. I monitored (still do, by the way! Lol!) the flight and to my heart’s rejoicing, the glide has been a great one. You know, I was never afraid of the flight. We prepared for it together and I’m grateful to still be a passenger on board. We’ve encountered mild turbulence, but the Manufacturer has made a sturdy carrier.

Zoom to February 18, 2016…

I bless God for making me the custodian of a young woman who recognized her onions at a very tender age. I’m grateful to her for trusting me enough to allow me be her best friend as she evolved. She’s one, and the first, of the two best gifts I could ever ask God for.

Omolajipe! (the name I gave to her at birth) yes, it is the child you call out to first in the morning, after God, of course! I’m most privileged to be your mother and friend. I’m proud of you, all you have ever been, all that you are now, and all that you can, and will, ever be. I celebrate you today as you turn 21, a fully developed gift in flight.

You have chosen a wonderful base for your future flights, being mindful of your cradle base. You have found a worthy recipient of your love and affection, a Chief Pilot. I’m grateful to God for this gift as well. I wish you bliss as you take off and land.

May God continue to shine His light brightly on your pathway that you do not stumble. Have a most beautiful day! Give yourself a great ‘adult’ treat! Lol! I love you!

xoxo… Mummy

Written by: Yemisi A. Ikuomola

Guitarman

I see the veins, like vines, stretching out on his left arm. From my angle, I see the depression on each finger, impressions left behind by the strings he holds down as he strums away with the other hand. He looks my way, and for a second I indulge, letting myself believe he sees me, sees into my want, into my heart. He stops and searches for something. A small piece of paper. Something special I assume. It’s a key of some sort; he retunes his instrument, strumming severally until each string produces the desired sound. He begins a wordless song, a lyricless tale. He fills the room, and the corridors of my heart with beautiful melodies. He looks at me as he plays, the intensity in his eyes reminiscent of a wildfire. He mouths words, soundless words. His hands begin to dance along the neck of his guitar faster, as the music becomes more frantic. We engage in a battle of wills, neither of us wanting to be the first to break the connection. His gaze burns. I turn back to his hand, I spot the ring, and wonder which bosoms he would lay his head on tonight. Maybe if I approach him, he would let me keep him from his wife tonight. Maybe he will play his guitar for me all night, the beating of my heart a perfect harmony to his melody. Maybe he wouldn’t mind that my husband would be just a few miles from us, trapped between his secretary’s thighs. Maybe he wouldn’t mind that my son will be just down the hall in his room, wondering why his daddy has to work so late, or never come home at all. Maybe he will call me beautiful, and shower my body and soul with heavenly ministrations. Maybe his rough, calloused fingers will awaken an arousal so strong, set my skin on fire. Maybe he will lust after my body like sharks after blood. Maybe he will love and guard my heart. The lady beside me is clapping loudly. She’s obviously infatuated by my guitarman too. “Isn’t he something?” I say to her. “Indeed”, she answers, “20 years of marriage, and I still fall in love with him all over again whenever he plays that guitar.” She smiles kindly. She loves him. I would too if I were her. I wonder if she was kind to him, made him happy, feel wanted and loved. She would be fool not to. As I get up to leave, I notice a hint of disappointment cross his face. He can’t react now, cause his wife has come over to greet him. He turns to return her affection, but I feel him watch me as I leave; the show is over. Goodnight my guitarman, maybe one day…

Ilekedi…

Three things I’ll remember about her
Three things I’ll never forget about this night
Three things I’ll forever ponder on
Three truths that I will never cease to grapple with

Her name was a mystery, like herself
Many have searched, albeit in vain, to find
Some say its the key to taming her
So she keeps it a secret; she locked that door and threw away the key

I didn’t ask for her name, I didn’t even think I would come so close
But she looked at me that night,
And opened up the deepest parts of my soul with those eyes
Upturning the dirt and ashes that had buried my secrets

Three things I’ll remember about her

The way she swayed her hips,
lost in her own designed ecstasy
The beads that adorned her waist,
sculpting her frame, undulating with her dance
The way she looked transformed
from mere mortal to revered deity

Three things I’ll never forget about that night

The way she looked at me, with eyes so beautiful,
yet rid with the sadness of a generation
The way the room faded away when she moved
as if it were just her and I locked in a battle of wills
The way her beads drew me in to her
holding me captive to her every twist, every turn

Three things I’ll forever ponder on

Why she singled me out, plain old me
instead of the usual patrons falling over each other for her
Why her movement, body, and soul spelled a sorrow
unlike any I’ve known; the kind that comes from fear
Why her beads danced around her waist
as if in a dirge, mourning a loss

Three truths I’ll forever grapple with

She was me, she became me, she is me
like a distant memory, foggy and dreamy,
of a past that was mine, a life I once lived
She was trapped; hiding in constant fear
I was trapped; hiding in constant fear
of who I was, who I was becoming
She held a secret, a certain power, and mystical force
in those beautiful beads that were my undoing
and in those beautiful eyes that told a thousand stories…

*Ilekedi: traditional beads worn around the waist by women for beautification or ritualistic purposes. Common in the African society.

Lamentations (II)

I am not a feminist.

I can’t count how many times I have said that in the past 9 months.

I am not a feminist.

However, I will not stand for utter bullshit.

This is going to piss a whole lot of people off, and honestly, that is my exact intention.

You are going to be a college graduate soon. Double major Accounting and Business with minors in Finance and Economics. Your boyfriend flips burgers at McDonalds. Okay.

Full ride to study Medicine at UCBerkeley. Your boyfriend is going off to Community College, and he wants you to go with him so you two can be together. Okay!

You just graduated; job offers in New York, Chicago, and New Jersey. But you have decided to stay back in your tiny hometown, with no guaranteed job, just so you can be with your boo thang…awwwwn…okay!

Partial scholarship to study in a better institution which will guarantee better prospects. But bae doesn’t want you to leave him, so you turn it down to stay with bae. You just want bae to be happy innit? Aiite.

Nice young man approached you the other day. You say he’s too gentle, you like em bad boys. Baby boo turns you into a punching bag, you say he loves you, he was just angry. Aiite fam.

You have a 9-5 job. But really, your dream is to paint everyday for the rest of your life. Honey however has no job, always coming to you with his palm outstretched, telling you he loves you cos he needs money. Shutting you down when you bring up your “ridiculous” painting dream. But you know deep down in your heart that he loves you; you’re determined to stick with him while he’s down and out. You see a future he really can’t even see himself. Nice one fam!

Am I the only one who sees there’s a fundamental problem here? Am I the only one who thinks this is some intrinsically fucked up shit?

Goodnight then…

Last Night

Like a tiny creature wrapped in a warm cocoon
A certain kind of bliss
One I had almost forgotten

Last night was a kind of heaven
A kind of high; intoxicating
A kind of calm; peaceful and serene

Last night was a kind of charm
A kind of magic; alluring
A kind of spell; consuming

Like a garden safely tucked in the heart of the woods
Flowers glowing in the gorgeous moonlight
A certain kind of tranquil
One I had almost forgotten

Last night was a kind of dream
Fading away with the darkness as the sun wakes the day…

Mine (9)

“So where are you from?” he asked as he packed my plate with food to hold a nation for a year.

Am I really that skinny that I look starved? And here I was thinking I was healthy. I knew I had lost a few pounds since I got here; apparently, oyinbo food and I are not particularly compatible. He stopped when he noticed me staring at the monstrosity that was supposed to be my food. I finally tore my eyes away from Goliath and faced him.

“You’ll need your strength later,” he said as he tried to hide his grin, but his eyes held a promise of something. Something I couldn’t quite place my hand on…until…click!

“Oh”, I half-whispered, and then giggled thinking to myself, ‘thank God I’m black. The last thing we want to do is start blushing like a goat’ (I know goats don’t blush, please leave me). That didn’t stop me from smiling like a fool, although I looked down at Goliath in order to avoid David’s burning gaze.

“So, where are you from?” he asked again, as he moved to his spot beside me on the island.

“Nigeria,” I said, bracing myself for a lengthy discussion spent discrediting common misconstruction about Africa, and African countries, and also preparing not to lose my cool.

David was straight out of my favourite, most exciting erotic novel, but that doesn’t mean I won’t lash out at him the moment he says something stupid. Maybe I could even exaggerate things a little bit, so he could beg me with that sweet sweet tongue of his. What the…keep it together woman!

“I figured you were from an African country, the accent. I didn’t know how to say it without sounding rude, so I…”

“You’re fine,” I smiled, “I don’t think it would have been rude.”

“You miss home?” he asked, and then suddenly, I began to reminisce on the ‘good ole days’ back home.

“As a matter of fact, I do. I miss my home, I miss the people, I miss being in a place with culture, I miss the food- the tasty, spicy food.”

I said the food bit with my eyes closed, licking my lips, and daydreaming of some hot pounded yam and egusi soup. God I miss home!

“So I take it you’re not too fond of the food here,” he asked, looking almost sad.
I am confused for a split second; is he such a patriot?

“Oh,” my eyes light up at the realization- the restaurant, his restaurant. “The food here is great actually, not as much spice, but I love it. Except for the part where some sauces and the chicken are sweet. I like my chicken spicy, not sweet; that confuses me a lot. But the food here is amazing!” “Honest,” I added for emphasis, hoping he’d believe me.

“It’s fine,” he sounded like a defeated child, “you don’t have to like my food.”

Aw hell! Mummy warned me, but I didn’t listen. She warned me to stop being so darn picky and choosy, and try to be adventurous for a change, but nooooooo, I just have to hold the whole world to my ridiculous standards. Ugh! I felt like I had been punched in the gut.

“I’m sorry,” I said, almost begging, “adjusting has just been difficult, even though it should have gotten easier after two years.” I felt so embarrassed, “I’m sorry, I tend to be quite picky.”

Suddenly, it looked like Goliath just grew a size bigger. I pushed the plate of food away as I fought back the urge to cry.

“I’m sorry,” he put his hand over mine, “it’s just that thinking of some Nigerian hunk cooking you your favourite spicy meal makes me a little bit sad.”

I couldn’t hold back the laughter that erupted from what seemed to be my stomach.
“You really think I’d leave you for some Nigerian hunk just cos he can make spicy food? I might as well leave you for myself then.”

He smiled like a little boy who just found out his crush likes him back. The next thing that came out of my mouth was really deadly. I should have thought this through, but by the time I realized that, it was too late…

oyinbo- Yoruba term for white person or pertaining to the Caucasian race.

egusi soup- A Nigerian dish. It is a soup made from melon, usually accompanied by a carbohydrate morsel.

Guest Feature: Yemisi A. Ikuomola (II)

MY FIRST LOVE

PART 2 A MINUTE OF YOUR DAY

I hate to bother you with my thoughts like this
But I just cannot help the many questions that pop up
Who else would understand and appreciate them
If not the one involved?
Why this coming back together?
How did it happen?
Was it premeditated?
Was it planned?
Who initiated it?
Were we too hasty?
Did we think things through?
Are the feelings mutual and genuine?
Was there any emotional coercion?
Was there any guilt trip?
Did we take the best course of action?
On my part, I wonder:
Was it so easy for me to be in again? Definitely not
But I could not resist the truth any longer
I had it buried for too long, just needed to admit it to myself
What is your perception of me?
Do you sense genuine emotions or an adventurous mood?
Did you expect what you got? Did you get what you expected?
What are your own true motives?
Are you desirous of a lasting relationship or just in need of company?
Do you mean all you say and write?

My answer? We both had longings long buried
Which time never healed and fate only had one option:
To earth them at the appropriate time
My heart is so believing and trusting
That I think it might be playing tricks on me sometimes
Or am I just plain naïve about the issues of life?
All I can think of is that I feel love afresh!
If it is wrong, then I never want to be right
This is just so wonderful!

Like a young lady falling in love for the first time
I want to experience all that I missed in my youth
Passionate love
Elusive? I think not
If I can feel the way I feel then I am capable of genuine love again
I miss you greatly, I miss you every minute of the day
I wish I could have you in my arms always
Alas! You are thousands of miles away
But I know that very soon
We shall be together again
And that one day we shall be united forever
Pipe dream? I think not!
Whatever the mind can conceive is achievable
IF the feelings are mutual.

What bond of perfection to have a life from you within me
To give life to another of you
Then my love will be fulfilled
If all this is not love
Then I dare say that the dictionary is yet to be complete.

You came back and turned my world upside down, inside out
And I am loving every moment of it
Thoughts of you and our tomorrow keep me awake all night
I no longer dread it, but actually look forward to it
It feels good to have a positive scenario to ruminate about
I don’t know about you, but I want to spend the rest of my life with you
If we are on the same page, what is to stop us?
I love you and mean it with my whole being
Never felt like this before, never expressed it like this before
Never more positive, never more forward-looking
Go on my Love, tomorrow will be okay
If we keep on believing that what we have found
Is indeed true!

You are my First and True Love!
Thank you for coming back to me.

First written in October 2004
Updated October 2014