YENIQUE

Late post, I wrote this two weeks ago but something happened and I only get to post today. Last night as I was on my way to the store to get ONE supply I was constantly reminding myself “Funke you need only one thing from that store, one thing only”. It’s funny that I always do this drill before I enter any store whenever I am paying with my card and I constantly loose the fight except tonight. Now while in there I overheard another customer saying the charge on her ATM surprises her when she gets home as she is totally oblivious she has spent that much. I laughed because this is the total story of my life.   For example I get in there hoping to buy bread for breakfast then I pick shampoo (I still have some), I buy some random essential oil (I would only use it for 4 days judiciously and forget all about it till a pimple appears), I would buy noodles and eggs and soft drinks and kilishi and all other stupid things I know I don’t need but I am just being “card Happy”. Usually it’s e

Let me tell you the story of one Yoruba god. It is Obba...the goddess of marriage, domestic things and meekness. She was breathtakingly beautiful the story says, after all she was the daughter of Yemoja. Her husband the valiant king of the Oyo Empire Sango, god of thunder, war fighter, strong and a man after the heart of many a maiden, he was the beginning and end of her. A tale that shows that love existed even in the days when the gods ruled the earth and that rivalry is usually atop a woman’s heart. Sango the valiant had married Obba, Oshun and Oya but for some reason he desired Oshun more. This of course led to a rivalry and the ever meek Obba lost all ideas on how to keep her beloved husband in her bed or keep her thoughts in his head. In a drastic move she sought the advice of her very rival Oshun the apple of the King god's eye. She asked in desperation "my fellow wife, please tell me how is it the king is always with you? How do you make him love you s

What has social media done for or against you? Personally I have sweet and sour tales from my social media addiction. I think by now everyone that knows me knows how addicted to the internet I am. Well online I have made sales, learnt about SMEs', I once got a PR job through instagram(that turned out awful), I have been able to express myself through writing. Social media for me has been more of a blessing than a curse. But then...there are the curses that make me check and double check when I am online. The first annoying thing that happened to me online was the job, tar@#$ put up an advert for an online PR manager and since I loved that I jumped at the offer. We argued about the pay for a while, then reached an agreement on work hours and pay. Babe breached agreement on both levels, I worked till 10pm sometimes, 12am once and I was living at least 2hours away from her studio. She was verbally abusive and damn she ended up not paying me a dime. All my efforts and little money i

The poem itself is just a reflection of how I perceive life. I believe in an innate sixth sense, one that directs us , guides us. Often I remember those days that my heart seemingly pounded for no apparent reason only to have one exciting or sad thing happen later in the day. My body was aware and it had informed me. Watch, look, feel...after all we are African. ***********Superstition************** Listen patiently every morning All elements are speaking They tell you to move or stay The wind blows this way and that Speaking words only the sharp can understand The way the sea rolls tell a tale of do or don't An African mind should know how to forecast it's own "whether" Seat still and let the pounding of your heart The first feet you take The sound of running water Lead you home.

You are what you post!   Yes yes we hear you are what you eat, drink, say and so on, I bet though that you have not heard about being what you post. When I say post I mean on social media, Instagram, Facebook, Twitter etc.   By now we all should realize the world is a global village and anyone with a cellphone and as much as your phone number or Instagram id. Or even your nickname can get enough information on you that makes or mar your image.   Sometime back a colleague chatted me up pretty worried because he thought I was going through a heartbreak, I wasn’t, he however thought so because of the very gloomy pictures that I had kept using as my DP(display picture) over a couple of days. In his mind he had created an image (which was fuelled by me) of this heartbroken girl that could not hold it together she had to start posting pictures relating to her situation. Since that incident I became ever watchful of what was on my DP, I didn’t and still don’t want anyone assuming thing

********Again*********(another poem about a broken heart) A few months ago In the season of thundery downpours My heart lied to me Yet again I thought I heard it beat in sync with your heart I thought it received signals from your heaving chest Signals of truth and decision and love Again And again it slowly stopped beating You had run a knife through it Again, it fell apart Broken, shattered and torn into a thousand pieces My heart had lied to me again Leading me one more time on a perilous journey I feel betrayed by my very own self To have believed a slitherer so Again I know my poor heart's hurt But never beyond redemption For time heals all.

Hi ya’all so I’m here again and I feel I should actually begin to cover my face really, I am taking too many breaks from my sweet passion. Well, abeg forgive me once again . So I am having a problem, an addiction. Jidenna’s new song Bambi , chai I have literally played this song to death . By now I’m sure Jidenna knows he’s some sort of wizard but “dis song be messin wit me real byad”. Na “youtube” start this craze, I think what interests me is the fact that the concept of the song is deep rooted African (and I am biased #killme ). First, he’s in love with Bambi who he calls dear(Deer) and then he says he’s caught in a web and his grandfather had seven wives, which I assume means he has to have so many wives or at least another woman apart from Bambi too. Another Jungle like twist is the part he says “it’s my design, to run the jungle I must be a lion(liar) or cheetah(cheater)” well thank God one man agrees it’s their design . Then he talks about “the woman among