NOTHING BUT JOY (AN ODE TO GONORRHEA)

Microphone stand and wooden stool under a spotlight on a stage

 

 

 *Wizkid’s Joy playing in the background*

 

In the early mid-nineties, that was the beginning.

Mama had me, she was definitely screaming.

I was her first child and cervix was expanding.

The strain on her hips caused blinding pain.

Doctor says, “One last push. I can see the head.”

She summoned courage, grits her teeth and winces

One last surge and my cries were heard.

“Congrats, it’s a boy” and hands me to her.

One look at my face brought tears to her eyes.

She smiles finally and I guess all she felt was:

 

Joy!!! Nothing but joy!!!

All that she felt was nothing but joy

I was going to be blessing.

A pilot or a lawyer or an engineer maybe.

Joy!!! Nothing but joy!!!

All that she felt was nothing but joy

I was the first grandson

The one with all the responsibilities

Soon I’ll be washing plates.

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IT WASN’T KLOSE, BRAZIL WAS KROOSIFIED!!!

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So I have been pretty mum about the whole World Cup event which is taking place in Brazil at the moment. Matches have been played up to the semi-final stage, upsets have been seen, heroes made, flops and props, extraordinary goals and future stars have been born. It has been an event worth the four-year wait. Now, I’m going to be focusing on one of the most shocking events of this World Cup. The World Cup has always brought shocker right from time and this one was not going to be any different. The first was shocking exit of the Spanish team after the mauling handed to them by the Dutch team and their loss to the hardworking Chileans, next was the shocking 4 – nil trashing of the Portuguese team by the Germans, Thomas Müller getting the first hattrick of the tournament and then, the ungraceful exit of the Italians after a beautiful against the English national team. Every other thing went according to book and the only other surprising event was the advancement of the Costa Rican team to the quarterfinals of the tournament. Fast-forward to the penultimate matches before the next shocker; Germany versus France and Brazil against Colombia. Continue reading

PLANTING TREES

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Trees are an important part of existence. From my previous lessons in biology and the background knowledge in botany, they serve as a form of beautification, they provide soil cohesion which helps prevent soil erosion and most importantly, they provide food through their fruits and also, through aspiration, they take in carbon dioxide and give off oxygen which is necessary for human survival. Wood from trees can be used to make paper and furniture. The need for these and the need to create space for residence has prompted the constant cutting down of trees and this has adversely affected the environment, prompting environmentalists to strongly campaign and advocate for the planting of trees. In almost every country, the campaign for the planting of trees to preserve the environment is strongly being pressed on. Companies that make use of paper or wood are strongly advised to plant trees for each one they cut down. Even other organisations are advised to campaign for the planting of trees to help save the environment.

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#HALAMADRID PART 2

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Fast forward to matchday, to the Santiago Bernabeu stadium, kick-off time, both teams were raring and ready to go. It looked very dicy, nobody could make any real predictions, just guesses. For the first few minutes, Bayern enraptured the whole stadium with the beauty of their football, giving and distributing passes with such speed and accuracy. They passed and passed and they would make the occasional attempt to shoot but it really was not proving but much, they needed to take their chances or else, it would come back and bite them in the ass.

The first Madrid counter was a warning of things to come and Bayern refused to pay heed, going on with their “beautiful” style of football and playing the ball in Madrid’s half of the pitch, it became too boring. Their style became too predictable, Carvajal was having a field day stopping Ribery and Alaba, Modric  took the midfield from Tony Kroos and Madrid, kept defending, all the while, brewing their deadly potion. The second counter attack was all it took to kill the first leg off. A beautiful set of touches brought the ball to the feet of Ronaldo and after a feat of brilliance, he dished the ball to fellow countryman, Coentrao who raced to the edge of the 18 yard box and square-played the ball to beat all the defenders and fall to the legs of Benzema for the perfect tap-in. Bayern resumed their normal gameplay (the clueless bastards) as usual and played out lacklustre football while Madrid showed brilliance in soaking up the pressure and dishing out a beautiful form of counterattacks that were pure eye-candy to behold. I left after the first half, knowing that this Bayern team posed no threat and if any goal was to come, it was going to be Madrid’s. At the end of the match, I was a bit surprised to hear that Madrid did not take full advantage to add a few more goals. They deserved more than just one but alas, that was just the first leg, I was waiting to see what surprises Bayern were looking to spring up during the second leg.

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THE MUSCLE OBSESSION

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There was once a time in my life where I harbored the pipe dream that I was going to somehow grow muscles and become really ripped. I used to envy all those buff, ripped guys because they seemed to get the attention of the ladies every time. You could visibly see the girl drooling and mooning over the guy. I wanted that, I wanted muscles, I did not want to get intimidated, I was going to be buff and ripped… Hehehe!!!! Like I said, it was a pipe dream. It was quickly flushed down the drain by hard reality. My genes betrayed me and left me without any hope; my vertical challenge and eating habits cost me the prize. I quickly realized I was going to look really deformed if I tried to put on the kind of muscles I had in mind. Goodbye to the adulation of the ladies, I was back to being anonymous and forever alone me. I decided to stick with my regular regime of pull-ups, sit-ups and push-ups. Carrying iron was going to be an occasional event. Goodbye big biceps and triceps, goodbye abs; in another life where I’m a bit more vertically endowed, we will meet.

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ME AND MY DRINKING PROBLEM

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The other day I was going through the songs on my playlist when I stumbled across a song which I grew to love in the past few months, Kendrick Lamar’s Swimming Pools; it was the jam I was accustomed to bopping my head to each time I was in a groovy mood. Halfway through the song, I began to laugh because with the song came memories of the past few months; it brought back memories of alcohol. Apparently, in the last few months, I had a drinking problem and this song spurred me on into heights of drunkenness. I would down cans and bottles just for the fun of it or to test the limits of my resilience. After the massive hangovers that followed, I began to question if it was worth the whole stress or if my liver should continue the struggle of keeping homoeostasis within my body.

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