Read a book campaign


Uburu Girls’ Model Secondary School, Uburu, Ohaozara Local Government Area, Ebonyi State.






Alert: New Blog

Dear People,

I have set up a blog: My City Journeys. Here, I blog about my travel so far in the city where I got my BA. And other cities I have visited. Just my daily encounters not travel guides.

Please do visit, read and comment. I love you.


Walking Through The Path of Depression


This is my third suicide attempt this year. This is an uncountable number of times I have housed or nurtured the thoughts of suicide. This is part of the weeks I have lived behind my locked door without seeing anyone outside neither did I eat as well as drinking anything – it is part of the days I have thought myself to be a failure or probably a disappointment to my mother and all the persons that expected me to be better.
I am no good and it is killing me slowly.

Read the rest of this entry

‘Fable’ and ‘Oh Cherry Trees You are Too White For My Heart’ by Doris Lessing

Poethead; a poetry blog


When I look back I seem to remember singing.
Yet it was always silent in that long warm room.

Impenetrable, those walls, we thought,
Dark with ancient shields.The light
Shone on the head of a girl or young limbs
Spread carelessly. And the low voices
Rose in the silence and were lost as in water.

Yet, for all it was quiet and warm as a hand,
If one of us drew the curtains
A threaded rain blew carelessly outside.
Sometimes a wind crept, swaying the flames,
And set shadows crouching on the walls,
Or a wolf howled in the wide night outside,
And feeling our flesh chilled we drew together.

But for a while the dance went on –
That is how it seems to me now:
Slow forms moving calm through
Pools of light like gold net on the floor.
It might have gone on, dream-like, for ever.

View original post 238 more words

Photo Speaks

I took this photograph when I saw these kids playing close to an abandoned hut.


I officially start this photo speaks series today. I spent a lot of last month moving from place to places in Search of stories.

With my Nikon’s camera, and most times, with my Android phone I unearthed some of these stories scattered all over the place waiting for storytellers to come pick and narrate.


I pressed the shutter when I saw the excitement in this guy’s eyes.

His mood reminded me before the shot that they are some moments that do not matter in our lives which were actually the best, but because we are very busy, we do not take notice of them until they are gone.

Read the rest of this entry

Farewell By Ijeoma Umebinyuo

My sister’s words resound in my ears each time I go over this. Ije is a genius, did you not so say so yourself? Lol.

The Rising Phoenix Review


When you arrive in America
You must not forget the language
We gave to you at birth

Do you remember the daughter of Ahmed?
She returned after two years there
Speaking through her nose and
Rolling her eyes at her own father!
Do not come back, sneering at us

Remember to call your mother often,
The recession has swallowed half
Her once full cheekbones
And she does not laugh
As often as she used to

When you arrive in America,
Do not forget to cook like your mother taught you
And do not eat their food
I heard it tastes like cardboard,
Baba Abdul told me,
You know his son was there for four years
He said the food tastes like cardboard!

You must remember you are a woman
Do not let yourself run wild
Like the daughter of Ahmed
Do not allow men touch you, keep yourself

View original post 28 more words

Climate Change


God ’tis not raining
God we’ll die
OMG are you listening?
The climate is changing

And we are dying


Read the rest of this entry

Our Different selves


I could have been great. I that was small. I could have been big. I that was dreaming. But, you told me that dreams were for the dead and being dead is a sin. I hovered not too far just to cower before you again.

Read the rest of this entry