Why Did You Not Open My Gift? 

Hello guys, this is a Post-Valentine’s write-up. I really do hope you all had a wonderful Valentine’s Day.




I’m sorry I have to bring this up. I’m sorry I couldn’t just keep quiet and pretend that I didn’t see the present I bought you seeing pretty unopened on the shelf. It’s been 6 days now and it’s still unopened.

Every morning as I walk out the door and into the day, in my head, I say a silent prayer, “Maybe Lord, maybe today”.

Maybe today,  you will notice that the box is gathering dust and the once brightly colored red wrapper and all its glitters look sad and gloomy.

Maybe today,  you will realize that it took me weeks of careful planning to pick this one out. It took hours of careful scrutiny before I finally settled on this one.

Maybe today,  you will realize that I thought about what to buy for you for a whole month. I went from store to store, trying to decide what to get for you. You see, nothing would ever be good enough for you. Nothing would ever absolutely convey how much I deep care about you. Nothing seemed big enough to describe how I feel, but small enough for it not to overwhelm. Nothing seemed fierce enough to show you how much I would want to be with you, but warm enough to show you that I’m not here to pressure you.

Maybe today, you will realize that I had this gift custom made for you. Because nothing ever made for the general public could be appropriate for you. You don’t fall under the one size fits all. I painstakingly picked out every thread and every fabric, every metal, every stone, every sweat that went into its creation, I picked out. And I executed it perfectly.

Maybe today,  you will realize that I went through the distance, through time and space,  across the desert to make sure that you got this gift in one piece. It cut deep into me pushing through the empty cold in my pockets, as I devoted everything to making sure that nothing was amiss.

Maybe today, you will realize that I came home with the gift with so much joy and all I wanted, all that would have made everything  worthwhile, was to see how your face would light up when you saw what was inside. All I wanted was for you to open it, see how carefully crafted it was,  smile at me,  and tell me well done.

But you took it,  without even looking up from your computer screen, you placed it on the shelf.

My love, my sweat,  my creativity, my expression, you placed on the shelf without as much as blinking.

Now everyday, I am reminded that I was stupid to have thought about loving you. Even more stupid to have assumed that you just might feel the seem way. Classically stupid to have gotten you this gift. Now everyday, I’m forced to see my shame and pretend that it’s not there. I’m forced to see that I love the wrong person.

The excitement is all gone. I just really want you to open it or at least take it down that gaddamn shelf so it can stop torturing me.

But still,  one part of me, the part that has refused to stop loving you,  really wants to know; Why did you not open my gift?

With sugary hands and buttered pens.




Though my skin wrinkles,
My mind slowly becoming a marshmallow,
Breasts looking downwards as though ashamed of the memories they carry,
The different maps of passion written over and over their once perky canvases.

My once brownish-black hair, turning white, showcasing the remodeling of my body
I will still bite my lips when fear comes
My head will still jerk awkwardly accompanying my roar of a laugh

For body is cursed to betray me
Destined for show and tell
And when that time comes,
Beneath all the new thin layers, I would be there standing.
Same Me, as it was in the beginning.


PS: Merry Christmas

This is the thing. You see I need to know. It’s not like I’m trying to pester you. I just need to understand. I need to find something to do with all these feelings. 

I guess I’m being selfish. This isn’t for you. It’s for me. 

I’m confused. I like you. I’m want to love you but I don’t want to be alone in it. You see I have had a rough life. I have always needed attention and love. I feel like I have never really had love for keeps. Everything and everyone I love always seems to go away. I’m tired of being the lone race runner.
I hate the way you treat me. The way you leave me to walk on my own like I’m some paid escort. I hate how you don’t listen to my opinions. It never seems to make sense or hold water with you. I hate that pleasing me is never a priority. You really don’t care if I’m pleased or not so long as you are. I hate the way you shut me up and say hurtful things to me. You see it hurts. You say I’m fat, I’m stubborn, I’m not as smart. 

You hurt me. I try I really do. I joined a gym, I haven’t had a alot of my favorite meals in a while. I’ve lost a couple of kgs, but you don’t seem to notice. I never make you do what I want. I beg to make myself heard but still I’m stubborn. Why? Bcos I don’t want  to sit on your leg like a common prostitute in the public? You see I don’t understand you. 

Im hurting and the worst part is I can’t talk about it or ask you why you do this to me or make me feel this way, bcos well I don’t feel like I have the right to. 

Where are all the condoms you bought on the 4th of December? You bought 3 packs, where are they? I know that you are sleeping with other people. It hurts. But again I can’t talk about it. 

Help me. I need to know. Do you love me? Are we or are we not dating? What are we doing? Tell me. I need to know.

It’s a special day. I don’t want to spoil it. I’m sorry if this is too much. 

PS: Merry Christmas. 


Nothing Weird..

Hey guys, it’s SugaRush. So I wrote this piece for an event, “Chocolate Bars and Cocaine lines” organized by Creative Central. Here it goes! 

No, I’m not in love with you. 

I’m in knowledge of you. 

You see, I knew you’d look at me that way. 

I followed you on Instagram, not because looking at your brown eyes smiling at me, stops my heartbeat

Your dark translucent skin, covering my shame with its light. 

You see, I needed to know

What makes you tick? 

What makes you laugh so hard, your eyes turn red? 

Like the time, you and Gbemi went for the opening of the Amusement park and you went on that deliriously scary ride, You laughed so hard, mucus flew out of your nose.

That was in 2012 or 2013?….

No, I didn’t see that on your Facebook timeline, even though i watched it wayyyyyyyyy more times than appropriate, I was actually there. I came with you. I needed to gather Intel on how to say hi to you. 

Which I eventually did in 2014. 

You see, we got to know each other so well in those years. I knew your uncontrollable craving for icecream, your immense hate for animals, mostly dogs. 

How you always stroll to James spot every night to get indomie. 

“2 small indomie, 2 fried eggs, 1 chicken, James give me lap o! And a bottle of water” 

Same thing, every night. 

Hey, no it wasn’t just me that got to know you. You got to know me too

Remember the times you’d check your window because you thought someone was looking at you? 

The nights you’d wake up from sleep because you felt one’s eyes starring deep into your dreams? 

The times you’d look over your shoulders because your body felt the heat of another around you? You see you got to know me.

I have other things to do with my time, come on! 

Like write out everything I saw, relive your memories in my head, look at the pictures that I took during the day, and send you anonymous texts. 

I don’t follow you about all day, it’s purely coincidence that I changed my faculty in 200 level, and so we happen to have the same academic schedule. 

Come on! You can’t honestly be afraid of me.

I’m harmless. 

How dare you say that? I AM NOT A STALKER!

Maybe slightly obsessed, it’s nothing out of the ordinary. 

Nothing weird here. 

I just need Intel on how to have a conversation with you in 2018. 
PS: please tell Gbemi that she should stop making you wear blue, i don’t like that color. And I really don’t want to have her silenced, the way I did to Ann, the one that everyone blamed on cultists killing. 


Lord, if you be anything at all, be a blade

Cut his insides

Make him bleed

I need to see him recognize

The blood that came from me 

On that day of abomination

Lacerate him through and through

Let him scream in anguish 

Let his voice ring to the high heavens

Let it rival my constant plea 

For his condemnation

You blessed his seed with life

Allowed me to sprout from him 

In all resemblance

All I ask in return, is tear through his veins

Let him beg you to stop the pain 

As he calls you Father, 

Reward him with silence

Ignore him as he has ignored me

When he seeks for peace

Withhold it as he has trampled on mine

Injure his pride

Let him know no salvation

For he has gifted me with the gift of shame and doubt

….With Sugary Hands

Mercy SugaRush

I Miss Simpler Days

Hi. It’s SugaRush

There were the times before I had to worry about other things running out like time, luck or money.

Before the days of instantaneous uploading, endless retakes and airbrushing, there was me, my friends and no camera.

It didn’t matter if we blinked,
if the angle was bad
or if one of our fingers ended up in the top right corner,
or someone was ready,
because our mind was the lens and our memories the gallery.

Before the days of anyone being able to reach you at any moment through a small mobile device ringing in your pocket, in your ear, on your wrist or through the speakers of your car, there were landlines.

The thrill of getting a love letter and waking up on my bunk bed, at night, after the lights were out with my flash my light to read every word. Reading it in his voice, my heart racing like a chased rat.
Memorizing every word, and smelling the pages of the paper for he had painstakingly sprayed them with his mothers perfume.

As my life continues to get stored more and more in the cloud,
Raining down insecurity and the need to fit in
Soaking our self-esteem, till the only shelter is in a make up lifestyle
To cover my flooded flaws, till it is concealed from the bird’s eye.

Shortened characters to express ourselves,
Shortened the character we had in ourselves.
To see my friends face, I had to check a Book, and approve with my like.
Rather than just tap her back and give her a good ol’ thumbs up.
Well I guess I did.

Smiling with you,
Replaced with Smileys,
And talking became comments.

I miss the days before we became interconnected and complicated.
When watching a movie,
and kissing,
Were mutually exclusive,
And not summed up in
Netflix and Chill.

Guard My Heart


I don’t want to disappear. I want to stay with you forever…or the next 100 years, which ever comes first. I want to remember your smell, your laugh, your voice; everything.
It’s so hard to think that one day this will all be gone. It feels like we just got here.
I don’t know if you feel the same way, with this level of heart ripping intensity. My breathing is  heavy, I feel oxygen chocking in my throat. I’m blinking to fight the tears from rolling down my eyes. I love you more every day, with every smile, every time you bite your lips. Your effortless sexiness, your ease presence, so powerful.

I want to love you even more. You could break my heart into tiny pieces, I’d still pick them up and  put them back in your hands.
It’s been 5 and a half months, and you excite me everyday like it was the first time. I want you like I’ve never even had you.

You are the first and last thing I think about everyday and every other thought in between. I miss you when we are apart, and when we are together I just want to be with you. You bring me immense joy. I can’t remember what I was without you.

This is why its hard. It’s body weakening, heart wrenching, soul crumbling hard, knowing that we only have a few more days left. How does one prepare for an earthquake and a tsunami in one hit? How? I want to stop loving you this much. I want to live without you. I want to not crave you so much. I need to.
But I’m helpless, I’m hopelessly in love with you. This sudden death staring me in the face and I don’t have the energy to fight for my  life.

This is my end, I have only one choice; to guard my heart. But alas, my heart is not with me, its with you.



I hear the sound like thunder, even though there is no sign of rain.
Big heavy bangs! Smoke everywhere!
Screams from the little girl that lives opposite my house, she used to sing a lot, but today it’s all screams
My brothers are running down the street, shouting in fear,
the dust raised by their feet creates a fog, I can’t see through it

Another loud bang!
This time its closer, I can feel the ground under me shiver,
Everything seems to be afraid.
I’m just confused.

Last week, my dad and I took a walk through these streets,
he carried me on his shoulders,
He told me that soon enough I could be anything I wanted to be.
He told me to look far from my vantage point on his shoulders,
He told me to smell it, to feel it!
“Democracy is coming!” he told me, with a hopeful hearty laughter.
I clapped my hands in response.
Democracy had to be a good person for my daddy to anticipate his arrival so much, I thought.

Today it’s all different.
Tires are burning on the street,
I see people running to and fro,
I see my sisters trying to…
The soldiers just shot another one! My brother! My beloved brother! Gunned down on the street like a common dog
I can’t find my father anywhere,
I’m scared. What do I do now?
“Run!, Run!” my legs seem to be instructing my brain.
Where am I going to? Where am I running to? Who would welcome me there? Who is waiting for me there? Isn’t Democracy coming anymore?
I heard there had been a Coup.

I’m too tired, my tears are hot, I fear they would burn through my skin and leave a scar.

Something hit me,
It burns, like a thousand needles in my back
It feels metallic,
I can taste it in my mouth,
No, it’s my blood in my mouth.
What hit me?
My vision is blurring out,
My breathing is shortened, I’m gasping!
Somebody help me! Something hit me! The Soldiers aimed something at me! I’m just a little boy!
Please help me!
My eyes are shutting of their own accord.
All I can hear is my mother’s voice.

Mother of memories,
Mother of time,
Change the scorching sun,
Give me breeze,
Change my sadness,
Give me peace.”
This is for the present crisis in Burkina Faso. Let’s stand with our fellow African brothers. May The Creator of All things grant us Peace.


With Sugary Love,


Hi, I’m SugaRush.


All I have is a bag of ifs,
A love torn heart,
And a bruised ego,
Worthless items.

If I had one wish,
I’d wish for  you to be happy for eternity.
If I had strength,
I’d carry your worries on my shoulders till the collapse of  the world
If I had love,
I’d serenade you from daylight to sunset
If I had power,
I’d protect you from harm and the imagination of it
If I had influence,
I’d make your life an easy passage, winding only upwards
If I had wealth,
I’d give you everything your eyes gazes up.
If I had time,
I’d wait beside you till all your dreams come true

All I have is a bag of ifs,
A love torn heart,
And a bruised ego,
Worthless items.

I crave to give you the world and it’s fullness,
I crave to cover you with the softest of silks not yet known to man
To wave my magic wand and turn you to a princess
To fight off your demons with my sword
To be your solid, your hope and the manifestation of your dreams.


All I have is a bag of ifs,
A love torn heart,
And a bruised ego,
Worthless items.


With Sugary Love,



Yo!! It’s Teebabsy!! 


Enjoy today’s post!! 

How She had loved it back then, it was everything to her. She carried it around like a dog tag. There it lay, proof of what they once had been. With him, there were no words accurate enough to convey the depth of her feelings. 

She was “herself” and to bask in the warmth of his smile while he “held” her in his eyes was everything & more to her.

Oh how she loved and adored him, if he had been a god, she would’ve forever worshipped him. 

Lost in this euphoria, she wasn’t prepared for what came next. The chilly winds that ensued left her at loss for words. 

The cold, long sleepless nights, the continuous “scarring”of her make up, he cut her wide open like landscape. 

At some point, She was almost certain this bleakness would be the end of her. Food and herself were “at war.” She was gradually “fading away” in all outfits. 

She was a mess; inside and out. She needed help to comprehend the whirlwind of emotions that had overtaken her. She kept searching for a “sweet surrender”.

How often she was called silly to have entrusted that “fragile little part” of her to him but I guess the joke’s on her since that “psycho”, Cupid “shot” only one of them. 

Without him to hold, She was freezing, gradually loosing it till She became a shadow of herself. So she became the “Ice Queen” tending to her new “absolute zero” nature. 
But today, She doesn’t know how it happened but she’s laughing more, she’s living, loving and enjoying every single minute of it. 
Funny how she thought she couldn’t do all this without him. She was stronger than the hurt, stronger than the anger & pain. She had almost forgotten what a fighter she was. 
Right this minute, she feels a certain warmth rushing through her veins. She is ready to live and love again. 
That which was frozen has begun to thaw, Summer is finally here….


With Sugary love….



Hey guys it’s SugaRush.

I haven’t written in a billion years. Let me just get right to it.  

She means everything to you. You, yes you. Before her majestic presence your knees weaken. Her flawless brown skin like the well polished bronze. Her smile, calms the nerves of the gods. Her voices like the soothing sounds of clarinets. Gosh, You love her. 
Girls like her come once in a century. But you are a disaster waiting to happen, a pair of hands that have seen too many bad mistakes,  a history too heavy to carry.

And she – she is golden. she has this light in her that is something storybook, untouched, an angel’s hope. she’s strong and fierce and imperfect in a million ways that make your nerves flicker out of control. Talking to her makes you feel like maybe somewhere out there, there’s good in this world. 

Watching her speak and throw her heart into small things and love so fully and wildly – it drives you crazy. you want to give her all the coffee shops and fairy-lit nights she dreams about. You want to pull down the clouds so she can taste them, to show her your secrets, to protect her. She bubbles over with passion, with colour, with something you thought you’d lost forever.

She is life. she reminds you what it’s like to be living. 

She makes you want to be a better human being. 

But your emotions are like buttons on worn clothes, they are dark clouds threatening to burst, they hang on with weary strings and scarcely remember their purpose.  

Over and over again, you find yourself snapping at things that shouldn’t make you upset. You hear your lips utter words that should not be said, your legs shake in rage. Your hands itching to hit something. You say it’s because you love her. You are scared of losing her, you want to call her your own. 

You say you are possessed by love, consumed with passion for her. You insist that it is an outburst of the intensity of the love that you have for her, you take up her space. 

Little do you know, that like a beautiful flower that is plucked, she withers under your captivity masked as love. 

Please don’t stay beside her. It’s easier to have no one than to break the ones that you love. 
With Sugary hands….

In her Shoes

Yo!! It’s Teebabsy


Hope we’re all doing great? Enjoy today’s post!! 



Bitch, Slut, Dog”

A few of the names she’s called. They say she’s beautiful, they say she’s sexy, they call her that which satiates a man’s desire. 

Her rosy luscious lips, her full breasts, her long endless legs; a few of the qualities she does possess. 

But for that treasure which lies beneath her thighs, there’s a price that must be paid. 

Crazy they call her to “sell love” to the highest bidder. But never would she give her love to another. 
So she chose to be a “woman of the night,” catering to the fantasies of those who desire. 
On the corners of various streets she stands, half clothed with her cigarette in her hands. The sound of her gum echoes in the silence of the night. 
She looks forward to the end of the day when she would sum up all her cash. 
She’s not swayed by the snide remarks of others, to her money is all that matters. 
Life to her had always been a survival ground. It was either “eat” or “be eaten.” Abandoned as a child, she had learnt to fend for herself. 
Severally, she had been told of how lovely she was. 

But before she was ready to blossom, she had been deflowered. The result was a long, tedious journey of nine months. 

She learnt along the way that you had to use what you had to get that which was desired or required. 

Now she simply does that which is necessary to clothe, shelter & feed the “fruit” of that journey. 

No one knows what it’s like to be her, they think they have her all figured out but how wrong they are.  

They know not what it feels like to come home to a crying, starving child. None have experienced pain so deep it leaves an irremovable scar. 

Being all alone in this world is a concept so foreign to them. So she doesn’t get mad when they chatter. It doesn’t even bother her a tad bit. 

Only when she sees how they react after they have walked her path would she then decide if they are worthy judges of character or not. 

Till then, her “shop” remains open for “business.”


With Sugary love…

You’ve Lost Me


This is not a poem, this has no artistic touch whatsoever. It’s as plain as it can be. This is for anybody that can relate to this on this day of Love.

There was a time
You had my attention
Breathing only when you commanded
My decisions centered around you
Love letters I wrote, one for each passing day
Pouring passion into words and heartbeat in ink

Then I saw you
Far away from the starting line of the race
I was a lone runner
No one to pass the baton to
You could care less
I really didn’t matter as much anymore,
Heck! I doubt if I ever mattered.
Lone runner in a relay race

Pushing me away at every turn still I held on,
Love blinded my reasoning,
Tossing away my pride I begged you not to discard me,
I lost myself, lost my voice.

Walking on eggshells,
I scampered carefully to hold us together
The leather of my skin turned into a band to tie us together
Washing away the pain with my blood

“Sorry” how I loathe that word!
Too quick, you were to say it
Hardly were you ever truly sorry.
I lingered and loved and fought battles in my head

Here I am, conceding defeat
But it feels like victory
The love I have for you is beginning to go cold
The veil is getting lifted from my eyes
I think again, I live again for me

There was a time you had my attention
Breathing only when you commanded….
Now, you are a second thought.

My tummy doesn’t tie in a knot when I see your messages anymore,
I don’t get angry when I see you flirt openly, it used to irk me, now it amuses me
You are no longer worth fighting for.

We could have been, you know.
We had everything we needed except ofcourse we didn’t have you.
Maybe you were afraid to love, or you just didn’t want to love me.

I tried, you know i did.
You would rather follow the mirage that the Internet space gave you.
Rather give handles the compliments I was dying to hear
Have conversations with contacts, when all I wanted was to listen to you.

You didn’t even notice when I began to learn to live without you.
When I showed up sparingly at where used to be my home.
When I didn’t care for a goodbye kiss or a hug or even a walk.

Now we live in formalities,
Pretending that we care about each other as we ought.
The “hey” and routine questions about your day and food.
Talking about surface things, and really nothing at all.
Maybe it’s up to one of us to close the door, I’d suggest you.
You’ve gotten a ton of practice.

Time they say heals all wounds,
time has been kind to me.
Wounds are closing up, the marks are fading.
If you walk away today, I’d bid you adieu cos now I’m certain that you’ve lost me.

Happy Valentines Day

With Sugary Love…..

#30ShadesOfGrateful – Day 4


It’s Day 4.

I’m grateful for Choices.

Choice – the person or thing selected.

: the act of choosing : the act of picking or deciding between two or more possibilities
: the opportunity or power to choose between two or more possibilities : the opportunity or power to make a decision.

This is the most powerful gift that we have. The power to make our choices. Every choice has it’s consequence and thereby creates a path for us. Therefore, with every choice that we make, we create for our selves some sort of “future” . We determine what next happens to us as a result of the choices that we make.

I’ve made right and wrong choices in my life. Choices that I am proud of, and choices that I regret. Choice that soothe me and choices that haunt me, I have made.
In all I’ve learnt to live with them. I’ve learnt not to regret most of my actions because, It was a choice I made.

We chose who we love, who we associate with. Some people are of the opinion that sometimes we have no choice as regards who we love, I beg to differ. My reason is simple, the first thing we feel when we see someone is immense attraction, for those of us that believe in “love at first sight”. It is a choice that we make to pursue this attraction that we feel, it’s a choice that we make to accept and entertain the thought and idea of the person.
Love is a very conscious decision, and we chose it.

I have chosen to love and love without measure. My decisions has brought me untold pain and immense joy. Still I chose to love. I chose to believe in people, I chose to hope, I chose to be there.

I have chosen to be enslaved and I have also chosen to be free. I have chosen to give and to withhold. I have chosen to stand and to fall. I have chosen to be bitter and to forgive.

Our choices make us who we are. It dictates the course of our lives. If we win or if we lose, if we succeed or we fail, it’s all in our choices.

Even with all the mistakes I have made and the ones I am going to make, I won’t trade my gift of choice for anything else. I am a product of my choices. I hope I make better ones.

I am grateful for CHOICE.


With Sugary Hands….

#30ShadesOfGrateful – Day 3


Welcome to Day 3.

Today I am grateful for friends.

In my short life I have a had a series of friendships. Some long lasting, others short lived. I’ve also come to realize that friends come in different shades and for different reasons.
I have realized that there are friends that we keep for specific reasons. We have the gossip friends, these are the ones that give the juiciest details and the ones you can give juicy details to. We are love our gossip dose and that’s were these ones come in. We have our academic friends, the ones that help you with school stuff and basically make sure you remain a student. We have the fashion friends, the church friends and so on.

Yes we have friends for different purposes.

But then we have those “Friends Turned Blood”. These are the ones that are almost all encompassing, the one that hold your back firm enough for you to stand. The friends that scheme with you and squanders with you. These are the real gems.

I’ve had my fair share of friends for specific reasons, I’ve also been a friend for specific reasons and I am grateful for these friends that I have had. I’m grateful that they were there for the reasons and they didn’t let me down.

I have also found my very own collection of Ride or Die friends, these girls got me and I got them. They make me the strong woman that I am growing into becoming. For them I am the most grateful.

I’m grateful for Friends.


With Sugary Hands….

#30ShadesOfGrateful – Day 2


hey guys,

It’s day two.

Today I’m grateful for something a lot more personal, I’m grateful for the color of my skin. I’m grateful that I am BLACK.

I woke up this morning to read the news on Eric Garner, the black man that was restrained with a chokehold pose by a white police officer, that led to his death. I watched the video footage and bile rose up in my mouth. My chest was throbbing fast and all i really wanted to do in that moment was scream. The man, Eric was going to be arrested by this White Police officer, for allegedly breaking up a fight, according to the video footage. Eric told the police officer that he didnt do anything wrong and he shouldnt be arrested, few minutes after verbally refusing to be arrested. The White Police and his other White colleagues moved in to throw the obviously unarmed man on the floor while this Mr White Daniel Police officer chokeholds him. Eric is loudly heard screaming “I can’t breathe” repeatedly as the White Police officer continues to choke-hold him. His plea is echoed by the by stander who takes the video footage but the White Policer doesnt let him go, until its a little too late.

What infruiates me is the grand jury refusal to indict the White Police Officer for the criminal offence.

My heart bleeds as I read this. Last week, another grand jury refused to indict the White Policer for the killing of a black teenager in Ferguson. Then I went over to twitter and read the #crimingwhilewhite tweets. I began to feel less and less value placed on my life. So what that I am black? My life should be valued, I’m worth something. Heck! I’m worth a lot of things. My skin is not a weapon. My skin is not a crime.

Eric garners last words spoke for thousands of black people “Everytime you see me, you want to mess with me. I’m tired of it. It stops today. I’m minding my business officer, I’m minding my business. Pleas just leave me alone. I told you the last time please leave me alone. Please, Please don’t touch me. I can’t breathe, I can’t breathe, I can’t breathe, I can’t breathe, I can’t breathe….”

The injustice is stifling us, we can’t breathe.
Stop messing with us. Our lives matter. Our skin is not a weapon, we are minding our business officers, we are. Our lives matter, don’t touch us. Don’t! We told you the last time in Ferguson. Stop! We can’t breathe.

I’m black and I’m proud of my skin. I’m proud of my heritage. I’m proud of what I carry with me. I carry courage, I carry strength. I can hope.

I’m grateful for my skin. I’m grateful for BLACK.


With Sugary love….

#30ShadesOfGrateful – #Day1


Hey guys,

The year is almost over yaaaay!

So guys, I gave my self the challenge to write every day for 30 days. I was inspired by a friend who gave himself the challenge to write for 1000 days and he is already on Day 500 and something.

I’m trying to teach myself discipline and consistency and this is part of my training.

For the next 30 days I’m going to be talking about the things I’m grateful for.

Today, I’m grateful for INTERNET. Can you imagine how life sucked without Internet? No google to ask your dumbest questions, no twitter to write your silliest thoughts, no Instagram to outdo each other on, no Facebook, no Ebooks to download, videos to stream! No internet!!!!

I wouldn’t even have this platform to rant and share my thoughts with you guys! I’m really really grateful for internet.

No matter how far you are you are really not that far anymore thanks to internet. Phew boy, you gotta be grateful for this one.

So that’s my first. I’d see you tomorrow!


With Sugary Hands…

Early MidLife Crisis

So hi, it’s SugaRush.
Yeah I know you are mad.
Sorry -_-

This is not a story. It’s not a rant either. It’s not supposed to be an amazing work of art. (so those of you who read my posts and see the need to tell me that my writing was not good enough, should please stay clear)

It’s just a flow of my thoughts. I’m sincerely certain that I’m in an early midlife crisis.

I’ve got almost everything that I need at this stage of my life. I have great friends, a job that makes me smile, a good sense of humour, an amazing body (yes, it is and I know), good grades, a boyfriend, boys that stalk me and a bank account that reminds me of a straight face smiley.

But I am not happy.

I’m really not. Nothing seems to please me anymore. Things that used to excite me have become mundane. I’ve tried being happy, but it’s like pouring water in a basket.
So I’m writing this, to probably rationalize why and how I got to this point.

I met a middle aged man in a public transport some days ago. He was clad in native, he had the air of a Yoruba man born into a wealthy family and had Western Education all his life. He wore no hair on his head. I’m guessing he is probably bald.

We began a conversation about Chiamanda Adichie. (I love that woman, I think my existence is to worship her writing) So me and Middle-Aged Stranger began talking for more than an hour on every and anything. We talked about Nigerian politics, education, Vladimir Putin (this guy is my favourite topic), Twitter, Boko haram and just about anything.

Then suddenly I realized that I was laughing, sharing and actually enjoying myself with a complete stranger and it came so easy to me.
I couldn’t remember sharing with anyone that earnestly in a while. I have ,for a while been the accepting one, always being there for others, listening to them, encouraging them, going out of my way to make them happy and never expecting anything in return.

In truth, I actually do expect these things in return but I never say that I do. I pretend that I don’t care. But I care. I really do care. I fucking care.

I want to be pampered. To be pleased. To be supported. To be surprised. I want all these things. I want to receive attention rather than only give it.

Maybe that was why I was happy to jump on a strangers little attention. A listening stranger. A stranger than looked at me with tender admiration. A stranger that gave me attention.

I’m kinda sounding like I’m attention hungry. Well, who isn’t?

I want more. I don’t exactly know what more is, but I know I want it.



So I haven’t written in months.

I write to express feelings and or fantasies. I write to speak. I write to hold. I write to listen to my voice above the noise of peoples opinions. I write to set free emotions causing a tide inside of my head. I write to immortalize.

For months I haven’t written.

Not because I haven’t had feelings or fantasies. Not because I haven’t felt the need to speak. Not because I haven’t found something to expose.

Majorly because, I didn’t want to immortalize.

These months have been the most emotionally draining months of my life. I have created life in beings and ideas, and I have killed them. I have risen in my head above status quo and societal restrictions and i have fallen. I have taken up responsibilities and I’m failing to deliver.
I have tried to stretch my self to love others selflessly, over and above how I love my self, in a way that I have never done before, without asking for that type of love in return. But I have failed to be selfless, I have hoped, prayed, demanded and fought for the same type of love to be shown to me. And I’ve come to the sad but reliving conclusion that I can never get the same measure back.
I have fallen to the realization that I’m less than what I thought I was.
I have crumbled under the subtle belittling of who I am, or probably who I thought I was. I have listened to the joking but firm voice that told me that I had the wrong priorities, the wrong ideologies and literally every thing that I have done till this point of life, has been wrong. I have fallen to the point where I live to get the approval and validation of someone else. I live for the flicker of approval in the eyes…the eyes of the person, who doesn’t even know that all I seek is approval.

I have felt different waves of emotions that I didn’t want to immortalize. Castles in the sky that I didn’t want to build.

Today, I suddenly felt the strongest urge to scream. I felt like I had reached my threshold, the lid could no longer cover it.
I don’t know what the trigger point was, maybe it was my holding on to my phone for hours on end waiting for that call, that ping or something and realizing how much of myself I have lost to another.
Maybe it was my conversation with that strange dude that felt so comfortable to talk to, like really talk to without the fear of sounding silly or not smart enough.
Maybe it was watching Carol King’s adaptation of For Colored Girls.

I don’t know.

All I know is I wanted to scream. To scream and shout at everyone and everything that ever made me second guess myself.
Scream and tell you that I might not be smart enough and be a little to vain, but I’m perfect in my way.
Scream that I love my vanity, I love my pride, I love my ego and I was done changing for anyone.
Scream that I am who I am.
Scream that I am.
I am who I am, and all my flaws make me a strong woman.

I really don’t know if this makes any sense to you but it does to me, and that’s all that matters today.SavedPicture-2014610124851.jpg

Close Call



Last week I was down with a terrible case of food poisoning and I almost died. The doctors say that I was lucky that I was brought it when I was cos the damage was fatal and caused wounds in my stomach. Laying down on that bed with the drips pumping the drugs through my veins I thought. What would have happened if I died?

Will the soldier ants that marched to invest my room halt and give a salute?
How long will my friends cry? Will they be late for my funeral? How long will my lover stay celibate before he pounces on another woman in obedience to his loins? Will he love me in death or love another? Would my sister be quick to burn my clothes, or would she drown them in her tears?
Will my boring law lecturers become lively and funny for one day, in memory of me?

What would be written on my tomb stone? Will my little shop close down? How many people would genuinely miss me? How nice would my funeral be? Would it be epic or just a regular “one more person gone” funeral?

Then I realized that none of these questions would ever be answered. Atleast, not to my hearing.
I had a close call, but I’m still here. I have a duty to myself to make my life count. I’m not going to be a regular girl, I can’t afford to be. I’m not going to value your opinion of me so much I can’t afford to waste any more time. I won’t live to patronize anybody, my life is too precious.

Forgive me now if I smile too easily, I have to appreciate all I can. Forgive me now if I can’t be bothered with your drama, it’s really not my kind of art anymore. Forgive me now if I love too easily, my heart would stop beating eventually, why can’t I make every beat into a song?
Forgive me now if I’m a little too focused on myself, I only have a little time, I might as well get to know me.

I’m going to do me. I’m going to do right by God and by myself. I’m going to live everyday reminding myself that if I’m gonna have a great funeral, I have to have an even better life.

With Sugary Love,



Yo!! It’s Teebabsy

Hope we had a lovely week.

So I haven’t written in weeks, trust me it’s not cuz I haven’t had things to write about but I’ve been swamped with a whirlwind of emotions.

I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m currently going through a phase in my life. It’s not a midlife crisis but I feel like I’m surrounded by a vortex; the strength and pull which each swirl sweeping everything in it’s wake; it’s like life’s being sucked out of me.

It’s that moment when you’re lonely in a crowded room with lots of depressing thoughts. Things that used to matter or people that did don’t anymore because at this point, you realise that no one’s got your back better than yourself.

It’s the feeling of betrayed trust, unreciprocated love or attention, failed friendships and disappointing discoveries. It’s being sick of the stereotypes and roles society has meted out for me to conform to.

It’s realizing that being the strong one means that no one would offer you a hand. It’s that moment you realize you don’t laugh as much as you used to or care about things the way you used to. It’s not being interested in conversations or happenings around you.

Everything is just a drab and it’s almost like I’m becoming numb to everything around me.

But today, I write in a bid to express myself and to let it all out. This is me breaking free; letting loose of all strongholds. I refuse to be defined by the standards of society and disappointments of others. I refuse to let life give me a beat down. I’m taking control and it’s happening with baby steps.

There’s an Ancient Arab saying that goes thus “throw your heart out right in front of you and run ahead to catch it”. It simply means find what you love and keep doing it. It’s knowing who are you and being certain that it’s more than enough.

I am more than enough!!!


With Sugary Love…

A lot like love


Yo!! It’s Teebabsy!!


Hope we all had a great week??

Mine was just insanely busy but Oluwa is always involved!!

TGIF right???


So earlier this week, my girls and I were gisting and one of them made a statement. We were talking about this New era “love” and she goes “love doesn’t mean anything these days, I love you is now a slang”

On hearing that statement, I laughed till my sides hurt but later on, I got to thinking and it led to this post!

Prior to our age of maturity, we all had certain notions about love. Trust me after watching Disney as a kid, you’ve got to have certain expectations.

Some of us viewed it as that deep emotional connection or bond you share with a person dear to your heart; someone who sees you as you are yet loves you with all your flaws.

Others viewed it as the definition provided by the bible in 1st Corinthians 13. Some view it as friendship intensified. Well, my Point is we all had certain beliefs.

Personally, I’d go with the first two definitions given above; to me they capture the whole essence of love, especially that In the Bible.

But the sad thing is that in this era of ours, the word has been ridiculed and belittled. It’s become a shadow of what it truly portrays.

With the aid of social media platforms, people who’ve only known you a month or two throw the word carelessly around.

Others have equated love to be the pleasure found in between the thighs of a male or female; absence of which tends to place the so called relationship on a decline.

It might begin with an “I love the kind of person you are and it ends with a “you’re not the person I used to know”. The love story ends faster than you can say Jack Robbinson.

But if it were really love, I thought it wasn’t meant to be selfish, take record of wrong doings, wasn’t boastful and never failed. So where do we all get it wrong??

So many of us can’t even tell the difference between love and something seemingly close to it. So we settle for something that’s a lot like love.

The point is we see the signs but we choose not to pay attention; the nagging, aggressiveness, failed promises, constant lies, the reproachful nature, interest in only the physical and hardly anything emotional. The partner that’s more into mere expression of words without any actual action.

If there’s anything harder than not finding the real thing, it has to be settling for the counterfeit of the real thing.

Sometimes I wonder if it’s possible to feel or find the kind of love Juliet or Ruth felt; love powerful enough to leave loved ones for or that expressed by Esther; love that gives you reason to love and trust an arch enemy.

Does it still exist or I’m just way in over my head???

The answers elude me as the 21st Century love with it’s rules and requirements have made us all oblivious to the importance and power that word “love”carries; it’s not a piece of dirty laundry to be tossed around.

If anyone were ever to say those words to me, I would appreciate if it were honestly expressed.

It’s something that should be deeply felt, well thought out before it’s said. It’s a word that carries a lot of weight.

There’s this saying that in order to see a rainbow, you must be prepared to experience a heavy downpour. We don’t get to choose if we get hurt in this world, but we do have a say in who hurts us and we can only hope they are as happy with their choices as we are with them as ours.

I know not what a love as beautiful and true as Juliet’s feels like but I can only hope that when we find it, we’d be brave enough to embrace it…


With Sugary Love…

If Only


Yo!! It’s Teebabsy!!!

Told you guys I was back, didn’t i??


In one of my thought sessions, it struck me that sometimes it happens that we don’t know the value of a person or something till we lose it or it’s out of our reach.

Today’s post is dedicated to those who have loved, to those who weren’t bold enough to love and those who were loved but lost that love along the way!!

In the end, all that really matters are the people we loved,how they loved us back and the things we did for such love!! The worst fate is to live a life without love.

So guys love deeply and truly. Without further ado, I present to you;


If only

By: @teebabsy


If only time’s winged Chariot never passed too quickly
If only I could flicker through time and pause or rewind it
If only I had said the things I ought to
If only I could see you hold me in your eyes once again

A century away it seems; that time when you once called me ‘yours’
From random greetings and conversations, our love story blossomed
Just like the Hibiscus flower at summer’s first smile

I was yours and you were mine
But my thoughts were never in line
Scared of my feelings and the hurt it could do,
I tried to keep it at bay

You expressed it; I suppressed it
You protected it; I neglected it
Without the proper attention, it withered away
Love is life; it must be kept alive

Love you; that I did
But a coward I was to own up to it
So I let it slide and acted like it was alright
When my insides cried out with all their might

We’ve seized to be; now I wonder if we’d ever still be
A veil has been lifted and I see clearer than ever
A thunderstorm of emotions drowning me after your exit

We see each other but it’s not as it was
An empty glance and a cold shoulder is all I get from you
It’s almost like we never happened

So I sit here by my window acutely aware that it’s time to let go as I watch you Slipping away from me; Longing for you, yearning for that which I had so foolishly rejected and repeating to myself; if only…


With Sugary Love…….

It’s all about Sugar

Yo!! It’s Teebabsy!!!


Yes guys, I know it’s been ages and I’m sorry but I’m back and better, trust me so much to write about!! Can’t start explaining, too much water under the bridge.


Today however is a special day cuz it belongs to my boo, baby, sweetheart and dearest friend to my heart!! It’s Sugarush’s birthday!!

It’s amazing how you meet a person and then suddenly you are inseparable, the person becomes a part of you.

So to you sweetie I say it for the whole world to hear, I love you, I treasure you, you are a wonderful person. I’d always be there for you even at odd hours when you need someone to talk to you.

I’d get mad at anyone you’re mad at and even probably hold the grudge the longest cuz that’s what a special person like you deserves.

You make me see reasons that it’s truly not about how long it’s been with a person but how well!!

So in summary, on this special day, I just thought to tell the world how amazing you are; I love you so much!!!!

Have fun boo, my very own Highflyer!!

Wish this special babe a happy birthday on @mercysuga_rush!!



So I haven’t written in months.

I write to express feelings and or fantasies. I write to speak. I write to hold. I write to listen to my voice above the noise of peoples opinions. I write to set free emotions causing a tide inside of my head. I write to immortalize.

For months I haven’t written.

Not because I haven’t had feelings or fantasies. Not because I haven’t felt the need to speak. Not because I haven’t found something to expose.

Majorly because, I didn’t want to immortalize.

These months have been the most emotionally draining months of my life. I have created life in beings and ideas, and I have killed them. I have risen in my head above status quo and societal restrictions and i have fallen. I have taken up responsibilities and I’m failing to deliver.
I have tried to stretch my self to love others selflessly, over and above how I love my self, in a way that I have never done before, without asking for that type of love in return. But I have failed to be selfless, I have hoped, prayed, demanded and fought for the same type of love to be shown to me. And I’ve come to the sad but reliving conclusion that I can never get the same measure back.
I have fallen to the realization that I’m less than what I thought I was.
I have crumbled under the subtle belittling of who I am, or probably who I thought I was. I have listened to the joking but firm voice that told me that I had the wrong priorities, the wrong ideologies and literally every thing that I have done till this point of life, has been wrong. I have fallen to the point where I live to get the approval and validation of someone else. I live for the flicker of approval in the eyes…the eyes of the person, who doesn’t even know that all I seek is approval.

I have felt different waves of emotions that I didn’t want to immortalize. Castles in the sky that I didn’t want to build.

Today, I suddenly felt the strongest urge to scream. I felt like I had reached my threshold, the lid could no longer cover it.
I don’t know what the trigger point was, maybe it was my holding on to my phone for hours on end waiting for that call, that ping or something and realizing how much of myself I have lost to another.
Maybe it was my conversation with that strange dude that felt so comfortable to talk to, like really talk to without the fear of sounding silly or not smart enough.
Maybe it was watching Carol King’s adaptation of For Colored Girls.

I don’t know.

All I know is I wanted to scream. To scream and shout at everyone and everything that ever made me second guess myself.
Scream and tell you that I might not be smart enough and be a little to vain, but I’m perfect in my way.
Scream that I love my vanity, I love my pride, I love my ego and I was done changing for anyone.
Scream that I am who I am.
Scream that I am.
I am who I am, and all my flaws make me a strong woman.

I really don’t know if this makes any sense to you but it does to me, and that’s all that matters today.

….With Sugary Love


What Women Want.

SavedPicture-2014610124851.jpgIts SugaRush! Been a while we posted. We know and we love you too.

This post is a service to the MALE Race!

Y’all always complaining about how you don’t understand women.
This post gives you a peep hole view into our world.

Ladies, lets tell em what we want.

Written by: Oluwabori @Queenish_B
What women want from men?

It’s not about material things…Well, for me it’s not.

I want my man to profess me as his own to whoever and whenever.
Too much to ask? Nah.
That’s love.
I want his friends to already know who I am (your woman) even before I meet them.

I want my man to be able to protect me. It’s terrible to be with someone who can’t stand up for you. Tf is you a man for? My girlfriends can do better. I want to know anyone who disregards me has earned the risk of getting obliterated by MY MAN.

Now, attention. I WANT HIS ATTENTION. I don’t want to message you and get a “Aii” reply 7hrs later. You’re too busy to reply? Call or sms ” Babe, a lil busy now. talk to u soon. Love.”
When I call you, i want your attention. Don’t start giving me attitude over the phone because one of your lil girls are there.
I’m mad at you and you don’t even ask to know why or you pretend not to notice I’m mad? That’s just going to make me more mad.
Attend to me, I’m calling for your attention.

Respect my feelings. Yes, I have feelings too. Know what you say and how you say them. Learn not to transfer your aggressions. I know your hurt, I’m trying to help you here so don’t get us both hurt. I wronged you? I know so don’t go all ballistic on me.

Wait, let me add this.
I don’t want to beg to be on his display picture and be talked about on social networks. Yh yh, show-off. If you can talk about you on there, why can’t you talk about me too? Am I not a part of you?
Don’t give me the cock and bull story of how you can’t start explaining to certain people on your contacts why there’s a picture of you and your girlfriend up but few days after y’all break up you’re quick to use a picture of yourself and another babe.

Wait? Did you suddenly delete ” have to explain” people off your list? Wow!

*drops mic and walks off*


There you have it!

Ladies, if there are other things you want from our men. Feel free to use the comment box.


‘Cos Its Teebabsy….

Hi Guys, This is SugaRush.

Today is the awesomest day in the universe because it belongs to our very own Teebabsy.

I’m going to go homo on yall so beware.

I love you. Yes, I said it. I love you.
Tope Babaoye , You are one of the best things that happened to me.

You make me smile. You make me happy. You are that friend that would never say no to me. You listen to me, you care for me. You literally hold my back so I can stand. I could not have asked for a better friend.

So on this special day I make this solemn pledge to you.

I, Emmanuel Mercy, would always be there for you. I would fight your battles with you. I will stand up for you. I will care for you. I will be honest with you no matter how hurting it may be. I will listen to you. I will be funny when you need to be cheered up. I will be an asshole when its the only way to make you make a wise decision. I will care for you. I will abuse boys with you. I will be there for all girls nights, except I have a genuine excuse. I love you Tope.

So there you have it!

Happy Birthday My Favourite Person.

To be or not to be

Yo!! It’s Teebabsy!!!!


I know it’s been a while but I’ve been very busy!

I’m sorry 😦

Now that that’s over!!


So during the week, I watched an Indian movie Guzaarish and I must confess, it moved me to my very soul.

The movie borders on Euthanasia; whether it’s right or wrong .

Euthanasia is of Greek origin and it refers to the practice of intentionally ending a life to relieve UNDUE PAIN and SUFFERING (proper emphasis on pain and suffering)

It is otherwise known as mercy killing. I is legalized in places like Belgium, Netherlands, Albania, USA amongst other places. It’s not yet legalized in Nigeria.

After seeing this movie, i had to ask myself certain questions.

Would I ever allow anyone I love to opt for Euthanasia???

It was based on these random thoughts I wrote this post.

I present to you;


To be or not to be

By: @teebabsy


I remember how well you used to laugh over the years. A single smile from you could light up my day. I looked forward to the daily calls I’d receive from you asking how my day went. You have always been my greatest confidant and friend.

I was always amazed by how strong and tough you were. Never let anything break your spirit you’d always tell me. A light awaits you at the end of this tunnel you’d repeatedly say whenever I’m having a bad day.

At my weakest and strongest moments, you were never found missing. With hugs and kisses, you showered and clothed me. Love so tender and warm you showed me.

You were the first person to make me understand and relate to that mysterious feeling; love. To always make you smile and happy was the greatest joy of my life.

I look over my shoulder to see you in the bed and only now do I realize how much you have changed; hands so strong have become weak and feeble, I no longer see the smile or hear the laughter anymore. I only look at you and see a shadow of the person you once were.

It all changed when you had that fatal accident that left you confined to your bed which you once loved but it has become your personal cell. You wouldn’t be able to walk ever again or move a muscle in your body. Your urinary and bowel systems had also been damaged. You would no longer have control of how you pee or stool.

On hearing those words, I felt the walls closing in on me. I couldn’t handle it at all but being mindful of the things you had taught me, I was hopeful I could handle it.

But how wrong I was. I couldn’t bear hearing your cries of pain all through the night. I couldn’t stand seeing your reddened eyes with heavy eye bags in the morning as I undressed you to clean you up.

It broke my heart to see you wet the bed or call to me to help you scratch your nose. You hated the drugs you continually had to take; it’s of no use, you always say. I can’t stand the look of hopelessness you wear on your face these days.

I would have fared well but I see you breaking down more and more with each passing day. For ten years you have struggled with this condition; a fighter you still are, I must admit.

“This pain is too much for me. I need to end this suffering. Please help me, I want to rest.”

Those were the words you said to me this morning before you requested for Euthanasia. I was shocked to hear it though I understand you are in pain but I just can’t bear the thought of life without you. Letting you go is not an option.

I guess that makes me selfish but I just can’t deal without you. How do I let go of someone so dear???

So here I am at cross roads, do I let go of all morals and beliefs and grant the request or do I refuse the request and let the suffering continue?????

How do I let go of My Mother????

I guess the question is Euthansia; to be or not to be?????

So guys it’s over to y’all, what’s your take on euthanasia??? Should it be legalized???

Would you ever encourage someone to do it???

Feel free to drop your comments


With Sugary Love….


Early MidLife Crisis


So hi, it’s SugaRush.
Yeah I know you are mad.
Sorry -_-

This is not a story. It’s not a rant either. It’s not supposed to be an amazing work of art. (so those of you who read my posts and see the need to tell me that my writing was not good enough, should please stay clear)

It’s just a flow of my thoughts. I’m sincerely certain that I’m in an early midlife crisis.

I’ve got almost everything that I need at this stage of my life. I have great friends, a job that makes me smile, a good sense of humour, an amazing body (yes, it is and I know), good grades, a boyfriend, boys that stalk me and a bank account that reminds me of a straight face smiley.

But I am not happy.

I’m really not. Nothing seems to please me anymore. Things that used to excite me have become mundane. I’ve tried being happy, but it’s like pouring water in a basket.
So I’m writing this, to probably rationalize why and how I got to this point.

I met a middle aged man in a public transport some days ago. He was clad in native, he had the air of a Yoruba man born into a wealthy family and had Western Education all his life. He wore no hair on his head. I’m guessing he is probably bald.

We began a conversation about Chiamanda Adichie. (I love that woman, I think my existence is to worship her writing) So me and Middle-Aged Stranger began talking for more than an hour on every and anything. We talked about Nigerian politics, education, Vladimir Putin (this guy is my favourite topic), Twitter, Boko haram and just about anything.

Then suddenly I realized that I was laughing, sharing and actually enjoying myself with a complete stranger and it came so easy to me.
I couldn’t remember sharing with anyone that earnestly in a while. I have ,for a while been the accepting one, always being there for others, listening to them, encouraging them, going out of my way to make them happy and never expecting anything in return.

In truth, I actually do expect these things in return but I never say that I do. I pretend that I don’t care. But I care. I really do care. I fucking care.

I want to be pampered. To be pleased. To be supported. To be surprised. I want all these things. I want to receive attention rather than only give it.

Maybe that was why I was happy to jump on a strangers little attention. A listening stranger. A stranger than looked at me with tender admiration. A stranger that gave me attention.

I’m kinda sounding like I’m attention hungry. Well, who isn’t?

I want more. I don’t exactly know what more is, but I know I want it.

Mists and Melodies: Episode 3 – Story of fury

Hey Guys, Its SugaRush 😀 . I’m sorry it didn’t come up yesterday, twas due to technical reasons.

Sit back and Enjoy Episode 3

Read. Enjoy. Comment.



Tony opened the sun roof of his car. He was in a great mood. The kind of mood that makes you just want to enjoy nature and its view. Apart from the massive erection he had, the night was going perfectly. Everything has worked according to plan. His upper lip cricked as he let out his satisfied smile. It had taken a great deal of courage to leave her like that. Her body was breathtaking, if he wasn’t on this schedule, he could imagine how many rounds they would have gone.

A frown crept up on his face, this boner wont just go away easily. He might as well find how to relieve himself.  Tony, reached his hand to the pigeon hole to get his phone, then he felt it. Moving his car to the side of the road, he looked down to be sure of what he had felt. Her key.
Shit! Not tonight. He hit the steering wheel in frustration. How the hell did she forget her keys in his car? He cursed under his breath. Making a U turn, he smiled, He might as well indulge himself a little.

I sat on the front steps of my apartment. MTN had thought it wise to join in the annoying charade. I had tried calling him a million times, all to no avail.
“I believe these belong to you”, Tony said at my elbow, his voice still soft and polite, a direct contrast to how I felt.
I turned around and snatched the keys from his hand, jamming them into the lock and twisting violently.
“Thanks are in order, aren’t they?”
I ignored him and continued trying to open the door. It didn’t help that my hands were full, and so it took some time for me to open both the lock and the padlock across the door.

“I’m sorry”, Tony said, coming up behind me and placing his hand on my shoulders. I stiffened at his touch. He may have noticed it, because he took his hands away.
“I’m sorry”, he said again.
“Listen, you bastard, I meant what I said when I said I never wanted to see you again. Kindly get lost.”
“Please accept my apology, and then I’ll leave”, he said.
“I don’t care what you feel. Get the fuck out of my life and never come back again.” I paused in the doorway, part in, part out of the apartment. “You bloody son of a bitch. Go fuck yourself.”
Tony’s eyes narrowed. “What did you say?”
“I said you should go fuck yourself, and I meant it too.”
“No, before that. I believe you called me a son of a bitch”
“Yes I did. What are you going to do about that?”
“Nobody calls me a son of a bitch. That’s an insult to my mother”, he said, his voice dangerously clipped.
“Well I did, and I damn well meant that too. In fact I’ll say it again. You’re a bloody son of a…”

I didn’t see his hand moving until it connected with my face. The world exploded in bright reds, blacks and whites, and a ringing started in my ears, increasing until it was the pitch and frequency of a train whistle. The pain was a few milliseconds behind, and when it arrived, it came with the force of an out-of-control vehicle, overwhelming my nerve fibres completely. All these happened in about half a second. In the next half-second, I was screaming and going for his throat, as instinct and my previous life as a tomboy combined to drive my actions. I swung wildly with both my bag and my free hand, and connected with both. My nails caught him on his neck just below the chin, and my bag impacted near his eye. I grunted in satisfaction as his eyes watered and blood rose to the surface of the scratches on his neck, but my happiness was short-lived.

Grabbing a handful of my hair, Tony shoved me into the apartment and kicked the door closed behind him, locking it one-handed and pocketing the key. I screamed in pain, but his only response was to shove me against the wall and deliver another slap to my face.
“You cunt. Look at my face” he screamed.

I twisted away and aimed a knee at his groin. It connected solidly, and Tony let go of me, sinking to his knees and holding his wounded privates. I took advantage of his incapacitation and ran to the kitchen both to put as much distance between us as possible and to see if I could get a weapon. Tony was still groaning as my hands closed around a chopping board and a knife. I was panting and out of breath with my head still ringing from the slaps, but I grabbed them and turned back toward the living area and Tony. I wasn’t looking where I was going, so focused was I on Tony, and I couldn’t break my fall when the heel of my sandal caught in the carpet. I felt a sharp, short pain as my head struck the arm of the chair, and then a deep darkness covered me as I passed out.

Something was being poured on my face, valuable raindrops bringing me back to consciousness. I sat up groggily, my neck head still aching from the fall and the slaps. As I focused my eyes on Bimpe, my flatmate,  everything came rushing back to me, and the hate that came over me was so powerful that I almost didn’t notice I was naked. Bimpe smirked at me as I tried to cover my nakedness with my hands.

“Babe, wetin you drink?, and what in gods name happened here?”, Bimpe asked, looking suspiciously around the scattered living room.

“Fuck! The bastard. That bastard! He did this to me?”, I said, looking at my naked body,  half accusing and half asking.
” I met you like this, reeking of alcohol. Which bastard are you talking about? Tina, oya start talking”, Bimpe pulled a stool closer and sat, with that look that said, ” This better be good”.

I scrambled for my bag, ransacking it for my phone and speedily called Tony.

Tony picked at the first ring,

“Missing me already?”, he said in a condesending tone.
“You filthy bastard! What did fuck did you do to me?”, I yelled into the phone unable to contain my anger
“Calm down tiger, I only did the things you were begging me to do to you, remember?”, He muffled a laugh as he spoke
“What the fuck? Are you mad? I swear to God I will fuck you up in this school, I will reduce you to the barest minimum, I will…”, I screamed at the top of my voice, my body visibly shaking.

Bimpe jumped up and held me to calm me down. She collected the phone from me and spoke to Tony.
” Hello, this is Bimpe on the line, who the fuck are you?”
“Hello Superhero, check the fucking caller ID and stop asking me dumb questions,” He hissed
“Fool, what do you want?”, Bimpe spat in irritation.
“Since you have turned yourself to mouth piece, you might as well pass this message across to Tina”, 

Tony began,

“On this phone and freshly uploaded on my Dropbox account are more pictures of her naked than there are patterns on your carpet. I got her from every angle, and there are more than enough of her with her face showing to ruin her in this school for good. If you think I’m bluffing, I suggest you check her Twitter profile header.”

“What do you mea…”

“Shut the fuck up and listen to me. I never want to talk to either of you again. I would have preferred not to even see you at all, but this school is too small for that. I’ll manage not talking to you. The day she as much as nods at me, be prepared to see her nudes on every notice board in school in full colour. I doubt she ever will be able to live that down”.

“Please, Tony. Don’t do this. We’l do whatever you want.” Bimpe’s face went pale as she spoke. My heart was beating different drum processions

“Of course you will. I have 35 pictures and 2 videos here that say y’al will”, he said, sardonically. “So, do we have a deal or is she ready to trend on Twitter?”
“Do I have a choice?’
“No, you don’t. It was nice doing business with you. And also tell her that although I suffered bodily harm. I’m not sure if my penis still works, but as I look forward to wanking to her nudes, I will know soon enough. Aurevoir”, he said cheerfully, and ended the call.

Bimpe mechanically sat down on the sofa, looked me square in the eye
“Tina, we have a problem. Call Ada now”

Mists and Melodies: Episode 2

Hey Guys! Its SugaRush 😁. Its another Thursday! Don’t forget to use the comment box and express yourself! Look forward to hearing from you.

This series was put together by:
@MercySuga_Rush and @ToluBablo, he blogs at Rancho’s blog. You should check it out! 😊

Episode 2: Played at your own game.

Davidos ‘Skelewu’ was playing softly from the speakers and we were gently, if absent-mindedly swaying to the music. Tony had suggested coming here on our way back from the movies, and I had to admit he had great taste in bars. Even better than his taste in bars was this bar’s taste in bar men. This one had provided us a steady stream of liquid refreshment, and considering the rush of happy hour, I was impressed by his attention to detail and prompt service.

Tony glanced at me over the top of his glass, and I smiled back. My hunches were correct. Beneath the shy exterior, there was a very interesting man. His practical jokes and quick wit had kept me laughing over the last few weeks, and he was very good, head-turning company. The only problem I had with him was his shyness, and in spite of all my barely concealed signals, he had refused to take the hint. It was going to end soon.

The light from behind the bar fell on both our faces, bathing us in its pale glow. I had to play this just right. I looked at Tony slyly, my face not showing any trace of the plans I was making.
“So”, I said, coolly taking a sip of my vodka and lime, “how many drinks would it take you to leave with me?”
We were sitting at one of those old fashioned bars, the ones with the high bar stools and Formica bar top. He almost fell from his stool at my question. He shot his hand out for balance, almost upsetting his drink. I looked at him, unperturbed.
“I’m serious. How many drinks would it take you to leave with me? I have all day”
“Hey!! That’s my line. I should be saying that”
“Well, you certainly took long enough. Now I am saying it. Sorry”
“Are you going to answer or not?”
Tony looked me over carefully, warily. “Are you drunk?”
“Answer my question”

Tony looked at his watch and jumped down from his stool. “Come on. It’s getting late. Let’s get you home”
He helped me down from my stool and I staggered a little on my high heeled slippers. I had to admit that I was getting a little tipsy, and I would have fallen if Tony hadn’t thrown his hands around me and caught me. As he rummaged around in his pocket to pay the bar man, I pressed myself against him, flattening my full 34D cup breasts against his chest and side. I was rewarded with a deep, throaty groan, and I could see the beginnings of an erection through his trousers. I smiled. This night was going to be a long night for him.

We walked out together, his rock-steady hand round my back supporting my staggering frame, and we got into his car in the darkened car park. As he reached for his seat belt, I shot a hand out onto his crotch, leaning across to whisper hotly in his ear.
“You still haven’t answered my question”

His erection rapidly increased beneath my hand, his throbbing dick threatening to burst through the material of his jeans. His breath caught as he tried to look away, tried to avoid eye contact with me. He wasn’t successful.
I slowly, deliberately undid the top 3 buttons of my shirt, presenting him a view of black, lacy bra and round, full breasts. I climbed over the gearshift and sat on his laps, a position made uncomfortable by the confined space of the car. My gown hitched up my thighs and his eyes ran up my legs, coming to rest at a point just below my panties where it stopped.

“I know you want to fuck me. I can see it in your eyes, clear as day. Why don’t you admit it?” I asked, whispering huskily into his ear.
He gulped heavily but remained silent.
“Go ahead, admit….”

My sentence was swallowed by his mouth as it closed around mine. All my thinking was cut off as his bottom lip parted mine and his beard slowly, pleasurably teased my face. I kissed him back slowly, enjoying the softness of his lips on mine. He was a really good kisser, and I felt myself melting under his touch as his tongue danced around with mine and explored my mouth. His kiss became hungrier, demanding, and his hands began exploring my body, going from my neck to just under my bra. My heart raced wildly, propelled by the contrast between the softness of his lips and the slight calluses on his hand as he gently liberated my heavy, full breasts from my bra and cupped them in his palm. I gasped and my nipples hardened instantly, and I arched my back and groaned as he caressed each nipple with a thumb, his mouth still teasing mine.

He continued tracing his slow rhythmic circles on my breasts, and I felt myself about to burst. I was stunned at how quickly he had transformed from shy gentleman to master of the Kamasutra. I groaned again, and suddenly he took his mouth off from mine.
“Shhhh. Don’t say anything. Let me handle this”, he said, as he took a nipple in his mouth.

My brain was throwing off fireworks as his tongue flicked up and down over my nipples and areola. A tingle ran up my spine, and I groaned in pleasurable anguish. This was torture of the good and wonderful type, and I bit down on my lips to keep from screaming. Tony shifted his mouth to the second nipple and bit down softly, simultaneously licking and sucking with his tongue. The combination of pain and pleasure was too much, and the fireworks in my head grew to become a violent explosion. I shuddered in ecstasy as he continued his ministrations on the altar of my breasts. Somehow, I was conscious of him sliding one hand up my skirt and shifting my panties to the side.
“I see you are wet”

He returned his mouth to my nipples and slowly, patiently began to do what he was doing on my nipples down under. His fingers deftly removed my panties and began to trace a pattern through the wetness of my exposed hotspot. He suddenly lifted me off his laps and into the passenger’s seat, placing my leg such that I faced him in all my naked glory. He shifted his mouth to my vagina and began teasing it with his lips and tongue. His gentle bites, yanks and kisses shattered my fragile control. I screamed as a powerful orgasm ripped through the fabric of my body, my flailing leg narrowly avoiding his head.

Tony continued teasing me, his mouth now joined by his fingers. I couldn’t take it anymore.
“Please, take me”, I groaned in a frantic whisper.
“I thought I told you not to say a word”, he replied, his voice muffled, and his lips making no move to stop.

He slid two fingers into me, and I jerked reflexively, my pussy gratefully accepting them. Slowly at first and then more rapidly, he began to finger me, his strokes alternatively deep and shallow.
Suddenly, without any sign, he stood up and raised his head from me, his eyes holding a mischievous twinkle. I felt liquid, anticipatory fire in my belly as his hand went to his jeans. Without a word, he picked up his car keys from where they had fallen on the seat and started the engine, his eyes laughing at my confusion.
“What are you doing?” is asked, my mind trying to process his actions.
“I told you not to talk. This is your punishment for talking”.

My heart beat a crazy tattoo as I tried to process his words. Surely he was not going to leave me this way after leading me up the plateau of ecstasy.
“Please”, I groaned. “Don’t do this to me”

He laughed slowly as he engaged the car in gear and reversed slowly from his slot, his eyes still twinkling. “You’ve been a bad girl. You’re gonna learn today”
My lips pressed together in anger as I realized he was serious. I swung my feet and sat upright in the passenger seat, looking at him with barely concealed rage.
“You bastard! Take me home”, I said angrily.
“My place or yours?” he asked, the effects of the slap barely showing on his face.
I looked at him with eyes that could melt metal. “Take me home. Where the fuck do you think is home?”
He swung onto the road, his eyes still tingling in amusement. I sat smouldering with my arms across my chest in the passenger seat, itching to lean over and strangle him. The bastard.

The nerve of him! My anger was barely under control when he pulled up at the door of my apartment. I stuffed my panties into my clutch purse and jammed my into my sandals, doing my best to smooth down my skirt and hair before opening the door.
“So”, he said, making no move to get up,”bye”
“Bye. I was serious back there”
My mouth opened in shock as I realized he wasn’t just teasing. “You’re a bastard and a fucking tease, and I hope never to see you again”
“Fucking tease? Is pun intended?”
“Fuck you”
He held on to my arm as I made to open the door. “You know, I never answered your question”.
I shot him daggers with my eyes and yanked my arm from his grip. I pushed the door open and stood shivering in the night air as I leaned in to him.
“Don’t ever call me again. I hate you”
“Is that you talking or just the embarrassment?”
“Ugggh”, I said, as I slammed the door and walked off in high fury to my house as he drove off behind me.

Embarrassment threatened to kill me. The idiot. Taking me for a ride and leaving me hanging. I increased my pace. I needed to get into my house and cry my tears of shame.
I rummaged in my purse for my keys, my anger mounting as I discovered they weren’t in the purse. I kicked the door angrily. They must have fallen off when I stuffed my panties into the purse in Tony’s car.
The night just couldn’t get any worse.


Hey Guys! Its SugaRush and Teebabsy 😀

So, we were gisting one morning, one thing led to another and to the realisation that we ALWAYS Understand.

You might not understand what we are saying but soon, you would join the wagon of TEAM UNDERSTANDING.
Why do we understand? What do we understand? You might ask, why did God make us understanding beings?

We understand a lot, we understand things that are BEYOND human understanding.

As a female, its your core duty to UNDERSTAND. You understand so much that even before he comes up with his stupid excuses, you have already helped him to understand.

You understand the words he cannot say. You understand the unexplained. You are the epitome of understanding. It would almost be possible to swap your name with understanding in a sentence and it would still make perfect sense.

Your boyfriend, on valentine’s day, tells you that he is travelling to Lagos, which is about 1500km away from your school. But through some miracle, you see him at your school’s car wash, with another chic in the car, sitting on your own front seat.

But you UNDERSTAND that there was probably too much dust on Lagos – Ibadan express way that he had to turn back from the highway, pass through every other car wash, all the way to the car wash in your school, because of course, their own washing skills is quality. Quality over anything right?

And the chic was definitely not human, it was just a mannequin.

You as a female UNDERSTAND this.

Your “boyfriend”, wait, he actually is not yours. You know this. You know that he has a real girlfriend of 3 years. But you understand that he has to cheat on her with you because he “loves” you and its complicated.

Although, he only seems to call you when he is horny and wants some, you UNDERSTAND that he “loves” you, and cannot untangle the complication, because his hands are tied.

You as a female UNDERSTAND this.

Its your birthday, and he uses another girl’s picture as his dp with the pm, “HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MY LOVE”.

You understand that the pm is definitely for you, but the network did not allow the dp change, in fact you go even further to understand that she might be far away and he cant see her, or call her, or even ping her privately to tell her happy birthday, that the pm and dp was the fastest means to communicate it to her.

As for your own birthday wishes, you UNDERSTAND that he has said it in his heart and that’s all that matters. Its the thought that counts right??

You as a female UNDERSTAND this.

So, you open your Instagram page, lovingly scrolling through your boyfriend’s time line and something catches your eye. Behold, a picture of your boyfriend with another girl, with the caption “HAPPY ONE YEAR ANNIVERSARY, LOVE#LoveisSweet #TrueLove #MyOneandOnly #AmazingOneYear #TogetherForever

You UNDERSTAND that your boyfriend made the following mistakes:

1. He forgot that your anniversary is in 6 months when you would be 2YEARS not one.
2. The girl in the picture is definitely you, but the photoshop and filters he used changed your face.
3. That the hashtags mean nothing. Its just for instagram
4. That the whole post is a prank. We are probably in April. Oh no, wait….we are in February

You as a female UNDERSTAND this.

Your boyfriend claims to have sprained his ankle, and has severe pelvic pain. In fact, he insists that he’s bedridden , he cant even move an inch. Suddenly, you are passing in front of his place and then you witness one of the many miracles of God, a miracle that should be included in the bible for all to see.

You find your boyfriend miraculously on his feet. Not staggering, nor limping, nor holding anything for support, upright! Standing, talking to another girl. You see this, understanding that this must be an apparition.

You walk away, go to the ATM queue for about an hour, withdraw, go and buy food. Then you decide to pass his place again, in other to convince yourself that it was only an apparition.

But to your surprise, he is not only able to stand, he walks hand in hand with his fair maiden to a place where they eventually sit.

Can somebody shout HALLELUYAH?!!! You being a good christian sister, ask him how the miracle happened. He explains and you UNDERSTAND that:

a. The Lord works in MYSTERIOUS ways
b. The girl is definitely the messenger of good health
c. She came to collect a book which took one hour and more because he was giving her the book page by page.
d. Well, you were right, it was an apparition.

You as a female UNDERSTAND this.

You know as God is called EL- Shaddai, El-lohim etc. Females should be called EL – UNDERSTANDING.

This might be funny to you all, but these things actually happen. If you are a female reading this, I’m certain that you UNDERSTAND.

But if you haven’t gotten to the point where you understand, WAIT! You will soon find the boy that would make you UNDERSTAND.

Teebabsy and I have accepted our fate as UNDERSTANDING. If you are for #TEAMUNDERSTANDING raise your pom-poms in the air and waive em like you just don’t care.

TEAM UNDERSTANDING, lemme see y’all drop your comments. 🙂

I think I have a boyfriend

Yo!! Its Teebabsy


Its been a great week right???


Yes I’m gonna say it; Happy Valentine’s day y’all!!


Have fun!!

We all can relate to the fact that Love Is hard especially this 21st century love with its rules and expectations. Its hard to know who truly cares or not.

I mean, we all don’t wanna put our heart out on a platter for someone and then find out that they really didn’t give a hoot.

That could sting like a bee. But the truth is one can never know, you just have to risk getting hurt to find love.

You don’t wanna end up old and alone in some depressing apartment.

One thing I know is love, though not always smooth, is beautiful when you’re with the right person(trust me I know)


So don’t go through life shutting out love, live it up, laugh a lot, fall in love sooo hard and make memories.

Life’s like an ice cream, enjoy it before it melts.

On this note, I present to you;


I think I have a boyfriend

By: @teebabsy


Check out the reply to this post here;



I think I have a girlfriend

By: @baron_bamzie


Scrolling through my phone


My name is Adeola,
And I think I have a boyfriend…

He’s the ideal kind of guy, the one in those romance novels we all fawn over; Tall, dark, handsome final year student and I’m the second year cute class geek.
He’s hot, popular and cool, some of the many things I’m told I’m not.

That he could even walk up to me was appalling not to talk of starting up a convo with me.

It began with a “hi pretty”. I had to look twice to be certain it was me, “did he really just call me pretty???” I could feel butterflies in my tummy.

The hello’s led to texts, then calls, gifts came next, and before I knew it, we were having drinks, cuddling and then we finally kissed…

I could feel my legs give way, my head was spinning, I was on cloud nine. The hot boy settles for a “loser like me”

He’s almost perfect, he’s shown me sides to him I never knew existed and I’ve fallen head over heels for him.

I’m definitely in love…

There’s just one problem…

Does he feel the same way???

I don’t really know if he’s fallen for me too or I’m just the girl before the next. We’ve been on for six months, and its been good; really good maybe even great.

But once bitten, twice shy. My Ex had been this perfect too but it had all been one big fat display of false emotion just to get in between my thighs.

He has never really defined what we have. I want something more and he says he wants that too.

I’m just not sure.

This feeling called love isn’t as cracked up as it seems in the movies. I mean, boy likes girl, girl likes boy and they both live happily ever after.

C’est fini (The end)

No one prepared us for all these unanswered questions and the fact that love is a choice.

If I go ahead to ask him, I don’t want to appear as the clingy girl in the desperate search for someone to call her own.

So I push these doubts to the corners of my mind fooling him with the tough facade, but the nagging thoughts keep resurfacing.

I’m done reading his vals day text and I think I’m going to reply. I don’t know what to say yet but I’d definitely send him something nice.

He might have something sweet and romantic planned for today…

But the doubts envelope me again, the text might have just been for show without any real meaning or thought to it.

My Brain’s trying to over ride my heart as usual. Its an epic tussle for superiority and I know not which would win.

He’s all I want and need, if only I knew what he truly felt…

My name is Adeola
And my head and heart are in conflict

But on this day for lovers,

I think I have a boyfriend.


With Sugary love


Use the comment box to express you


Mists and Melodies: Episode 1

Hey Guys! Its SugaRush 😁. I promised you that there would be a new series. We have been working tirelessly to put this amazing series together and We do hope that you enjoy it.
This series was put together by:
@MercySuga_Rush and @ToluBablo, he blogs at Rancho’s blog. You should check it out! 😊
Welcome to Mists and Melodies.
Episode 1: The Chase

The beautiful woman seated across the room from me looked up suddenly and gave a knowing smile, her even ivory teeth contrasting beautifully with the slightly darker tone of her face and accentuated by the shocking red lipstick she wore. My face flushed, and I looked down hastily to cover my embarrassment. Yet again, she had caught me staring. I fiddled with some books, taking care not to look in her general direction until the embarrassment I felt passed away. I felt stupid every time she caught me, but still I couldn’t stop myself from staring at her. I remained head down, face burning, even when loud applause and shuffling feet signaled the end of the meeting. A shadow fell across me, and reluctantly I raised my face to meet her smiling face…

This meeting is going crazy. I have sat through more than my fair share of mind-numbing and annoying meetings, but this one certainly ranks near the top of the list. Congresses were always the worst, especially when a big program is just 10 days away. After my presentation as the head of the planning committee, I had thrown the floor open to the other members of the executive council and legislative body to table their ideas, and while at the time it seemed like a smart thing to do, allowing members to criticize and comment on the proposal that our hired consultant had presented, it quickly degenerated into a shouted, heated argument. I gave up trying to control them and walked to my seat, leaving the meeting in the hands of the president. He was, after all, the head of the executive body.

I was doodling in my sketch pad when I felt eyes on me. Somewhere in my subconscious, I knew someone was looking at me. I raised my head slowly, unobtrusively, and saw his reflection in the screen beside me. He was staring quite openly at me. I whipped around and caught his eyes on me. I chuckled. He was a cute one, this starrer. His eyes sparkled behind a thick pair of glasses, and his face was framed by a luxuriant beard. I had always been a sucker for beards, and this one was almost making me drool. I rubbed my fingers. He was delicious, this one.

He caught me watching him and looked away. I chuckled softly. He was a shy one, this one. I would have to do this myself. I was not about to allow the small matter of correct social protocol detract me from meeting this gorgeous hunk. I’m a firm believer in gender equality: if the attraction is mutual and he doesn’t make the first move; make it, social convention be damned. Life is too short to keep waiting for guys to make the first move all the time. That’s how old hags are created: they wait for the men they admire to make the first move while other younger, faster girls charm their ways into the men’s admiration.

I did not get to where I am now by being a ‘slacker’. All I’ve achieved in life is as a result of being proactive and forceful. Of course my beauty helped, as did my invention and creativity, but for the most part, it was me taking charge of my life. Once when my single mother started vomiting blood, I carried her to the hospital in the dead of the night and created a scene until the doctors on duty had to treat her, even though we didn’t have any money and I was only 15. When my WAEC results were withheld, I had marched into their offices and demanded an audience with the official in charge, even though I was only 16 and had no appointment. When my admission into university was delayed, I had gone to the office of the admissions officer. When that failed, I went to her husband’s office wearing my most revealing dress and begged him to talk to his wife. All my life I had created my own way and gotten what I wanted. Now, as I looked at this fine specimen of male humanity, I felt the same way I felt on all the other times I had to assert myself.

I glance across at him again. He’s still looking at me, and again, he hides his head when he catches me looking. I smile. The shy ones are the easiest. All they need is firm guidance, and like my guy Ice Prince would say,”I excel at providing guidance, counselor”. I know his type. He’ll keep staring without ever summoning the courage to walk up to me, and he’s too handsome to just ignore. At the very least, he’ll provide a better option for the next few days than that pseudo-boyfriend I have. It is worth a shot.

The meeting is winding up. The president is saying some drivel about the time for the next meeting tomorrow as we rise to our feet, but I’m not listening. I make a beeline through the crowd towards where he still sits head down. He’s obviously still embarrassed and is probably waiting for me to leave the room before he stands up. Hahaha. If only he knew. I smile as I look down at him. Even his haircut is perfect.

“Hi”, I whisper softly in his ear………

21st Century Love

Hey Guys! Its SugaRush 😁. And I’m here to rant about something really important:

21st Century Love

“I am hot. This is not because of the weather or the fact that there is no light in this stuffy room. I am hot, because I am literally hot. I have a great body. 34c sized breast, a slim waist, and relatively large backside. To top it all, I am pretty. But here I am laying naked next to my boyfriend of 5 months and he is focused on his phone liking pictures on Instagram and tweeting!!!”

I couldn’t help but laugh when a good friend of mine sent me this text, some days ago. After reading her text which was intended to be her rant to me, I began to give it a deep thought, hence the “21st Century Love” post.

We live in an era where there are rules for everything. Rules about what we wear, what we eat, the type of games we should play on our phones, the type of phones to use, where we go to, the friends we keep and most of all, who and how we should date! There are basically rules for every gaddamn thing!

I had this boyfriend of mine at a point in my life, who basically lived by these rules. He wont call more than once because real niggas don’t leave 2 missed calls, according to him. He wont text first because, real niggas don’t. He cant wait on you for more than 10 minutes because real niggas don’t hang around for so long. He doesn’t believe in valentine because….i cant even remember the dumb ass reason he gave because I was probably to pissed to listen. I’m guessing he didn’t believe in birthdays too cos I didn’t get a birthday gift from him. Most depressing of all, he certainly didn’t believe in real and physical expression of how he felt.
He was very comfortable expressing his feelings via whatsapp texts, tweets, voice notes, instagram posts etc but just not physically to me. You would argue and say, atleast he is showing the world how much he cared about me. That is not the point, dear brethren. The point is, “IS HE DATING ME OR THE WORLD?”

We text, send emails and instant messages. We tweet and Facebook. But while new communication platforms spring up, left, right and center our relationships are suffering from lack of communication rather than flourishing.

You see, its easy to let someone infer the tone of your voice and you facial expressions from the texts you send. The person reads it in the light of the persons own feelings and understanding, which may not be your own feeling and understanding at the time you were sending the message.

Love is supposed to be personal, a strong and intimate force. But now, that isn’t the case. There is a whole new process for falling in love.

Indulge me in this drama sketch.

Boy likes Girl.
Twitter DM.
Boy: *after previous convos* Can i have your pin?
Girl: Yh sure.
(They exchange pins)
Boy: heyyy! *waits for her to text first*
Girl: heyyy 😊 *waits for him to text first*
(Decades pass by. None of them text)
Wedding day.
Boy marrying another girl.
Pastor: Do you take her to love and to cherish?
Boy: this could have been me and Girl. But she wont text first.  Yes, I do.
Girl: this could have been us, but he wont text first.  I’m so happy for them. 😊

Its really stupid guys! Really!!! You like someone tell em, you wanna see someone, call the gaddamn person. You are in love fucking admit it and show it damnit! Life is too short for all these stupid ass games you people play. Ain’t nobody gon become Methuselah waiting on your lame ass to finish playing whatever retarded game you wanna play. Love doesn’t need rules. It doesn’t have rules. Fall in love head long, if you have a damn concoction, so be it. Pfft! I’m tried of all these games mehn.

Emotion is not weakness, its strengths. It shows that you are able to take responsibility. Running away and pretending not to feel the things you absolutely feel is the weakness.
Don’t deny yourself of a chance to be happy just because you don’t want to be called a “pussy nigga”.

I don’t know about you but I would rather be a pussy nigga who has an amazing relationship, than a “real nigga” who would remain single while her mates are having grandchildren.
Phew! I’m exhausted just talking about this.

So guys what do you think? Do you think there is a serious problem with the 21st century love? Or do you think its just fine and there is not nothing? Or are you asking yourself, “what is love? Is it the feeling I get when I see food?” ?
Use the comment box to express you! I’m waiting 😊

This thing called love

Yo!!! Its Teebabsy


Yes guys!! Its the season of love, and like we promised, we are gonna be thrilling y’all with love stories and posts from various superb writers.


So sit tight and enjoy the ride.


Y’all should anticipate this week;


Down that same road
By: @bibykimz
Tuesday 11th February



21st Century Love
By: @mercysuga_rush
Wednesday 12th February


The last post for this week would be one in a conversational form with the reply given by another amazing writer;

So anticipate;


I think I’ve got a boyfriend
By: @teebabsy
Friday 14th February


Don’t miss out on all the fun!!!


Without further ado, I present to you;


This thing called love

By: @gboyegarr


What is love???

I keep asking myself. Is it that drunken feeling? The one you feel when you think about some “special” someone?

What exactly is it? This thing called love. It’s like being drunk. You don’t think clearly. You never see that it’s a terrible farce.

From “I love your sense of humor” to “you think everything’s a joke” the road’s never that long.


Trust me, I know. I’ve been there. I see it all the time.

It’s a lie. A fat lie.

The human mind; we literally brainwash ourselves into thinking this thing is real, but it isn’t.

Like a switch, you can decide to “love” someone, and you can decide to fall out of “love” with someone.

It is that easy.

And you call that real? Seriously?
It all boils down to the mind. It’s a powerful thing.

If I ever catch a feeling, and I can’t make it go, then I’d let you all know.

You can always make it go.

It’s all in your head.

Trust me I know, I’ve been there…


With Sugary Love


Use the comment box to express you


All that glitters…

Yo!!! Its Teebabsy


*dodges all items being thrown at me*


Though its kinda late but better late than never right?? Happy New Year darlings!!


Hope the year’s been going on well?? We owe you guys an apology for our absence.

We are truly sorry, school’s been very hectic but we are back. Y’all know how much we love you guys!!


We’ve got a lot to keep you guys entertained. Y’all should expect very soon our New series:


Mists and Melodies

By: @mercysuga_rush


In case y’all didn’t know, the month of love is almost here and to celebrate that, we would be thrilling you with lots of love stories by various superb writers.


The summary is y’all should always check in here!!


Irrespective of all the craziness in school, I finally got the time to create a world of my own and write.


Without further ado, I present to you:


All that glitters

By: @teebabsy


A pretty face, a body to die for, the latest clothes, gadgets and accessories. I just got the Range Rover Sport 2013 model. I’m the most popular girl in my faculty.

Parties, check!! Drinks, check!! Friends, double check!! I’ve got so many boys at my beck and call. I don’t believe in commitments, I’m more of a carpe diem (seize the day) kinda girl, so I’ve been with quite a number of guys.

My life’s fun, I’m in charge, I run the show. Yeah I’m bad like that. I’m pretty certain right now, some of you wish you were me, but News flash…

At the end of the day, when I get to my room and I’m left alone, there’s that void, that feeling of emptiness, lack of purpose or self worth. The feeling comes haunting me each night.

Then the tears start rushing down but amidst it, I find something amusing, its the fact that some actually wish they were me, how foolish could they be??

Lucky, rich, proud, they call me!!! Some even call me a slut but they do not see beneath the surface.

I’m the daughter of an abusive father, one who derives pleasure in ripping my clothes to shreds and with every thrust, he takes away every shred of hope I had left.

My mum walked out on us years ago and dad never remarried. He never got over the shock and I became the outlet in which all his wildest sexual fantasies came to life.

The gifts and things you all see and covet are the consolation for my screams and tears every night. I am already one without value or worth, why then would I commit to only one “scumbag”??

I wish I could find pleasure in the little things, laugh and actually mean it or even smile but if wishes were horses, beggars would ride.

They are all the same and so to lash back at them, they become my playthings, ready to please my every desire but never getting close enough to see the scars within. Its not pride, its just justice!!

This is the only way to deal with this, its my own haven. One thing still makes me laugh through it all, its those that have fallen for this facade I’ve made them believe, contentment with what is theirs is all they truly need.

If only they all knew the truth…


With Sugary Love


Feel free to drop your comments below


This Christmas

Yo!! Its Teebabsy


Merry Christmas my darlings!!


I think the best part about Christmas isn’t the lovely presents we receive, but rather its that time of the year where we take time out to be grateful for the little things.

Life, love, good health, laughter and family are some of God’s greatest gifts.

As We are celebrating, let’s all take time out to say a prayer of thanks remembering those that aren’t as lucky as we are.


Happy holidays from the Irish Sugar family!!


Without further ado, I present to you;


This Christmas

By: @teebabsy


Herat, Afghanistan 5:02am 23/12/2013

I hugged my backpack a little tighter for warmth!! The tiny tents we had made couldn’t provide the necessary warmth.

It was a very chilly evening, winter in this region was quite severe as a result of the winds from the Karakum desert.

But over the years, I had accustomed myself to it. I turn to my right side to continue in my slumber.

A loud boom startles me to my feet. Its the sound of bombs hitting the ground. Several gunshots and explosions follow successively. I could hear the shouts and screams of my mates. We were under siege!!

“durtar vaista, durtar vaista!!!” (stand back) Lieutenant Iqbal shouted.

I hurriedly put on my helmet, slinging my backpack on my shoulder, holding my Tofang in position to shoot, I began to take small strides, I crawled, I walked and even ran where it was necessary.

There was blood everywhere with bodies scattered across the floor; legs, hands and other parts also covered the floor, my day had just begun.

Life in the United States Army was no small feat. The early morning routines, the countless cold nights, the nostalgia for home and the numerous deaths witnessed.

I had been deployed to the city of Herat years back. Being the third largest city in Iran, even in war, it still had its beautiful buildings; the Musalla complex was a sight to behold.

It took quite some time but I can proudly boast of being a decent Farsi speaker (the most popular language here)
Herat is known for its rich wine, with which I often drowned my sorrows.

I hurried along with the pack, I couldn’t afford to be left alone. We rushed to find cover, each man running as fast as possible.

“Watch Out” Abdul called out with his funny accent, He was still mastering the English language basics.

I was about to say “Mamnunam” meaning thanks, but it was too late.

I just heard a loud bang and could feel myself falling to the ground. The end was here. I had often thought of how I’d die but I hadn’t pictured it this way or this soon.

I had often thought it would be in some kind of heroic way, how ironic things turned out.

It was then I thought of my sweet Camille; I would never get to see her beautiful smile and dimples, I would never get to tell her how much I still loved her and my lovely daughter.

I would never hold them in my arms again, I would never get to tell them how sorry I was but it was probably for the best; a shadow of myself I had become, the life long effects of a man who had gone to war. They had lost me a long time ago to this very war.

I take a deep breath and the darkness engulfs me…


San Diego, California 6:30pm 24/12/13

I pulled the curtains sideways to watch the snow flakes landing on the side walks. Decorations and lights filled the streets.

I rested my head on the window. There was music and rejoicing in the air. It was that time of the year I dreaded the most; It was Christmas.

It was the time of the year that constantly reminded me of all the things I once had that had been lost; A husband, A family, Warmth, laughter and love.

They had all been taken away from me five years ago when Iyke was deployed to Afghanistan. It was in our fifth year of marriage and I had been four months pregnant. I had been devastated but there was nothing I could do.

It was his call to duty. I vividly recall the day he left, I was wearing a pink satin dress with embroidered flowers along the bodice, I stood on our porch with a tear stained face and watched him drag out his luggage.

It had been to much for me to bear, my heart was aching. He had pulled me in for a hug, kissing me on my forehead, then he kissed my bulging belly and said;

“I’m always coming home to you babe”

He had left after that and he had never come back to me. He had been home twice, but he hadn’t been the same. He was no longer the man I had married.

He was distant, cold and always in thought, almost as if he had witnessed horrors beyond his years. His incessant nightmares left me constantly worried.

He wasn’t even an attentive father to Tracy. He couldn’t find joy in the little things any longer.

With time, he had stopped coming home, he only sent letters and post cards, it was the way he kept in touch. I had lost my love to the cold hands of war.


The tugging on the edges of my gown drew me back to the present.

Mummy, can I put the star on the christmas tree now??

It was Tracy, my daughter. Over the years, we had developed a tradition of sort, she puts the final star on the tree on Christmas Eve. The door bell rings and I get up.

“Just a minute honey,” I say.

I head for the door and to my utmost surprise and horror, its Iyke in bandages and crutches with his Lieutenant.

For a few seconds, I stand with my jaw wide open, then I burst into tears hugging him and ushering them in.

A few minutes later, I have received a full briefing of what had happened. Iyke had almost been hit on target by one of the bombs, he had some fractured ribs and a dislodged ankle that will result into him limping for the rest of his life. He had been relieved of his duties to come have a chance at a normal life.

It was almost as if I were in a movie, I couldn’t process it all at once. Tracy walked into the room, squealed in delight and ran into her father’s arms. The lieutenant left minutes later.

I was sitted on the sofa and Iyke moved towards me with tears in his eyes.

“I’m sorry baby, I know there isn’t enough time to make things right but I’m gonna start with forever” He said, raining kisses all over both our faces.

“Daddy, I want to put up the star now”.


He laughed before carrying her to the tree. Tears trickled down my face, I always want to remember this moment. This Christmas would be different, it was the beginning of wonderful things to come. I have all I ever wanted right here with me. It was perfect.


I carried my daughter in my arms, lifting her up to place the star on the tree, I had been given a second chance at life and I was going to spend the time left loving the two treasures God had given me and it would all begin with this christmas…


With Sugary Love

This Christmas

Yo!!! Its Sugarush and Teebabsy!!


Yes, we know y’all are probably mad, we are truly sorry for our absence from the blog!!


We’ve been occupied with loads of stuffs but we are here now!


Christmas is around the corner and the holiday spirit is in the air.


We are therefore gonna be giving y’all a special christmas post.


You all should Anticipate on the 25th of December;


This Christmas

By: @teebabsy


Till then, y’all should be patient and don’t forget to check in here while you’re all devouring the Christmas Chicken!!


Happy Holidays to you all!!


With Sugary Love…

To Our Wall

Yo!!! Its Teebabsy and Sugarush here!!


How are y’all doing???


Today is a Tres special day!!!


Its the birthday of one of our very own; Its no other than @bibykimz.

So today’s post is in her honour.


The first part is by me and the second part by sugarush!!


Without further ado, We present to you;


To Our Wall

By: @teebabsy and @mercysuga_rush


We all have numerous friends, some of us have so many we have lost count. Friends are God’s special gift to us. They are there to help us, strengthen us, support us and give us a shoulder to cry on. Friends in our own opinion are like walls.

Not all friends stick around through the rough and bad times, but there are a few who do. When you find that kind of friend, its compulsory you treasure them and never let them go.

We for one have been blessed with our very own wall. I know not what we might have done but God found us worthy of having a friend who’s been with us through it all.

Its her day today and we couldn’t think of a more befitting present than to tell the world how much you mean to us -Akinmade Habibat Ojuolape Anjola Ajiun

My wall,
I call you that as you are a reflection of
God’s kindness to me
He knew that in this weary world, I would need someone to rely upon, lean on and have as a confidant asides him; so he sent me you

A friend like you is hard to find,
I’ve searched around but none can compare
Every time I think of you, I know that
God definitely has a sense of humour; as a person so different from me completes me in every way

As a shy and fairly quiet person, you bring out the “crazy” and fun loving part of me
I’m the impulsive one, you are the rational one
I’m the one who always let’s her emotions get the best of her, but you’re the “rock”

8 years ago, Our paths crossed
An encounter I bless the Lord for daily
Funny how we were arch enemies till we became room mates and a wonderful friendship began, one I hope lasts for more years to come

Having a friend is different from having someone who you know would always be there for you always
With you, that has never been a worry

You understand me in ways I can’t comprehend
Even when I throw “my fits”, you lovingly ignore me
You see through my “tough” facade knowing that I’m very vulnerable

My wall,
Countless times I’ve leaned on you, called you up at odd hours, rubbed off my problems on you, but you have never complained

Memories I have are forever evergreen
I would always cherish them; the laughs, the hugs during times I cried, the advice, the chiding, the heart to heart talks

My wall,
My very own “Lyrical Were”
Your rhymes are hotter than Coal
Countless times I’ve been forced to listen to every new line or rap
Even when sometimes I’m not actually listening

You are a very rare gem
You are not just a friend, but a sister and confidant

My wall,
As you add another year today,
I pray God showers his blessings on you
Makes you happy, laughing always
I pray he strengthens this friendship as you are one of the treasures I hope to keep for life

This is just to let you know how much we love, value and cherish you. I’ve been blessed beyond bounds having someone like you.


Sugarush here!!

Babes, I haven’t known you very long but it seems like its been forever
A friend like you is so precious and priceless.

You’ve been there through it all even when things went awry earlier this year(I’m sure you remember)

You were a strong Pillar and wall of support
You encouraged me telling me not to give a hoot about what others think

People would always talk, you taught me
One thing I’m certain is I never want to lose this beautiful friendship

I pray this year brings you joy and good tidings.

Happy birthday Sweetie!!Know always that Teebabsy and Sugarush love you


With Sugary Love…

To my Beloved

Yo!!! Its Teebabsy


Hope y’all are doing great??


If there’s one other thing I’m crazy about asides Chocolates and dance, its babies!!!


I freaking Love them!!!


It was in one of my day dreaming moments, I wrote this!


Without further ado, I present to you;


To My Beloved

By: @teebabsy


My Beloved,
I call you that as you are God’s smaller version of me
You are living proof that somewhere up there, there’s a God who loves me so much he gave me a gift as priceless as you

You’d probably have my hazel brown eyes and your father’s dark curly hair
I hope you don’t inherit my bizarre, loud and embarrassing laughter, trust me on that one
I pray you have my dimples and your father’s dark chocolate Skin

My Beloved,
Someday soon I’d probably tell you the tale of how I met your father
Though its still being written by the Big Guy above but I’m sure its one I’d always remember

I’d tell you of how he got down on one Knee and asked me to be his Better Half
I’m sure you’d giggle after I tell you how much I cried and laughed at the same time as the joy in my heart knew no bounds

My Beloved,
I hope you know how ecstatic I’d be at the news of your arrival
With your dad pampering me with meals; most of them burnt as the kitchen and your dad do not make a perfect pair

I cannot wait to hear your first cries and your first laughter
I hope the first words you say are “mama”
I anxiously await the first time I’d see you walk, stumbling a few times but finally making it through

My beloved,
You should know life is a party, not everyone stays till the end
Some come, make a mess and leave but there are those who wait behind and clean the mess with you
When you find those kind of people, cherish them and never let them go
They are God’s gift to you

My Beloved I tell you,
Do not rush into love, it would only leave you several unwanted scars
its time would come, when you least expect it
You would find that person whom the Lord created specially for you
I learnt that the hard way

When you have found him, keep the fire burning
Love is life; you feed it, you nourish it and tend to it daily, otherwise it dies

My Beloved,
Know your worth, Never let anyone put you down or make you feel less Important cause dear child, you are a very rare gem produced from my own loins
Do not conform to the standards of your friends or the world but only to Him who moulded you

My beloved,
Change is constant, so be thankful for the great times and make enough memories
When the tough times come, always remember that they never last but tough people do

Know that people would always talk; they wouldn’t recall the good you’ve done but remind you constantly of the wrongs you committed
Pay no attention to them my love, they know not of the choices you had before your decision was made

In everything, always walk with your head held high
You my darling are worth more than rubies or the most expensive pearls

My Beloved,
Life is a teacher, so be sure to always learn from your mistakes
I hope you make only a few and not repeat the same ones I made

Time’s winged Chariot hurriedly passes by so treasure each moment and laugh as much as you can.
Believe in yourself and you my love would move mountains.

But in all My Beloved,
Never cease to love your creator, thank him for each day, each laugh, each smile and each tear
He watches closely through it all

I have to go now my beloved,
So many more things I wish to tell you but they would all happen in good time
Right now, I have to go make a pot of Efo Riro (Vegetable soup), a delicacy I can’t wait to make specially for you.

I can’t wait to cradle you in my arms, arms with which I hope to protect you from the evils of this world.

Till your arrival, always know that mama loves you and even when daddy walks you down the aisle, you would always and forever remain My Beloved…


With Sugary Love…


Use the comment box to express how you feel


In the blink of an eye

Yo!! Its Teebabsy


Yes I know y’all are probably mad at moi but I’m sorry I’ve been away my darlings.

I was ill but I’m back now and we are here to Wow y’all as usual!!


Y’all Shud anticipate on Monday 25th November;


Letter to my Beloved

By: @teebabsy


Till then y’all should enjoy today’s post;


In the blink of an eye

By: @pwitikid


Ella walked out of the hospital gate into the main road, dazed. She kept walking without direction, she didn’t care where she ended up.

She just wanted to be away from everyone and everything. She crossed the road without a moment’s pause and kept walking not minding the hooting of car horns and curses from passersby and the bus driver that just almost hit her.

She had just lost her best friend, Toke. Just yesterday, Toke seemed to have fully recovered from the malaria that brought her down about a week ago.

They had talked and started making plans for her 20th birthday party and she had promised to write down her guest list and bring it for Toke to criticise the next day, the day she was supposed to be discharged, only for her enthusiasm to be smashed by the news of Toke’s death at the hospital.

Several thoughts and questions ran through Ella’s mind; what could have happened? How did it happen? But she was fine, how could death be so cruel?  Why was there no sign or warning? Why Toke?

Why did it have to be her only true friend? Why did death have to take away the Adebayo Family’s only child? She stopped as she entered a deserted close and looked up at the sky, like she was waiting for answers to fall, but none came.

She walked a little further into the close; fell to her knees, letting out a deafening scream which eventually subsided into a silent sob.

She got up and found her way back to the hospital, praying and hoping that a miracle would happen, that Toke would wake up from the peaceful state she seemed to be in, or that she would wake up and everything will be a just a nightmare.

As she walked into the hospital and at seeing Toke’s mother on the floor, crying and screaming, she burst into fresh tears as reality fully dawned on her, she had just lost a huge part of her, and there was absolutely nothing she could do about it…

A few days ago, after we had all had dinner and everyone except my siblings who had to read for their upcoming mock examination retired to their rooms for the night, i fully settled into chatting and working on an article at the same time on my blackberry phone.

I finally got myself to writing the article after a few weeks of writing nothing since I lost my articles to a crash (I’m sure you all know the crashing problem blackberry 9900 users go through).

I had become so attached to my phone over the year; it made things easier for me and had basically become a part of me. Anytime thoughts of losing the phone came to me, I always waved it away because I never wanted to think of what it would be like.

On this fateful night, I was so engrossed in the bustle of my bbm world and trying to create a read-worthy piece. I made a friend of mine ask for the link to something I wrote after he admitted that he had never read any of my works.

And just as I was about to paste and send the link to him, the whole world came to a halt, nothing was moving, I waited, thinking it was just one of those hanging moments blackberry phones experience.

But I was wrong, it had crashed again. This time without warning and just when I was almost done with the piece I was writing, and while I was in the middle of talking with many of my contacts. This was too sudden especially since it just recovered from another crash about two weeks ago.

Nothing i did could bring my phone back to life, and then it occurred to me that death could not be any less sudden, if not more painful. University of Ibadan, during this ongoing strike, has lost several students to the cold hands of death.

Some I know, some i don’t. Some of them must have left school with the hope of coming back to their rooms, friends and classrooms, without having so much as a hint of the stiff fate that awaited them.

We go about, doing different things with or without and to different people, not knowing what next or who might be next. Life, as we all know, is full of surprises; it spares the really sick man who was expected to die and lets death take away his wife who nurtured him back to life.

It spares the old and gives away the young. It postpones death’s appointment with the bad guys and leaves the good guys in the cold hands of death. Life just gives death the license to go round and pick people randomly, and so far death has been doing a really great job.

It chooses to take the only two children in the Lagbaja Family, and takes 1 out of the nine in Tamedu family, how cruel?

It spares the horrible child whose death would be more of a relief to her parents and even uses her as an instrument to end the life of another family’s promising child and only hope of a better life.

It is slow to take away the adulterous wife-beating husband, but picks up the groom-to be, whose wedding is in three days, without a moment’s consideration.

I like to imagine death as a spirit that was configured not to feel or think; otherwise we would not have so many evil people around.

If death could feel or think, it would know to take the life of that person who is planning to kill an innocent man or that fraudulent employee who doesn’t mind ruining his very trusting boss, but life is unfair and there’s absolutely nothing we can do to change it.

Pondering further on this, i realised it’s not just about death, it’s more about us. Death is inevitable and everyone will sooner or later be taken away by the cruel hands of death, but the question is, how have you used that which you have? How have you lived your life?

What will people say about your life when you finally leave for the great beyond? Are you living a praise worthy life or a careless one?

Have u been leaving your mark in people’s hearts or you’ve been trampling on their hearts? How many people will truly miss you when you’re gone?

An elderly friend of mine always says,

“When you die, let people cry because they’ll miss you, not because they are scared of where you’ll end up or because they think your life was a waste”.

Whatever it is we do, let’s strive to touch people’s lives and to be remembered for the good we’ve done, not for the number of parties we attended, number of girlfriends or boyfriends we had, number of people we fought with or the number of exams we failed or passed.

I personally believe that we’re in certain people’s lives for different purposes, and these purposes if fulfilled would mean a life well lived.  

Our friends and families should remember us and smile, because we fulfilled our purpose in their lives.
I see so many quotes around telling us to live everyday like it’s our last, but the deplorable condition of our society’s morals is a pointer to the fact that most people misinterpret these quotes.

They take it as a license to live a carefree and meaningless life. These quotes only remind us that there’s this Big GUY up there who’s watching our every move and our lives and everything we do should reverence him, as that is the only key to a good life.

Maintaining a good relationship with HIM helps us lead a great life and assures us of a wonderful thereafter.

All in all, our life should be a blessing and not a curse to those around us and we should also keep it in mind that the good we do affects our society, no matter how little.

So my advice to everyone is, re-examine your life and make amends, let your life be a positive influence to those around you, make up with lost friends, love and pray for your enemies. No one knows who is next.

Make God your number 1 friend, it is the only way to live a good life and be sure of a better thereafter. Have a nice life.  


With Sugary Love….


Feel free to use the comment box below


World War Free

Hey guys! Its SugaRush!!! 😀

Missed me? Yes??! YES!!!

I know you all have been having a swell time, I have too.

Today, I present a mind blowing piece from someone dear to my heart, he goes by the name: YAMEN

You know the drill, read and use the comment box to express your thoughts on it!

Without further ado, I present to you, him!



by: @ur_enigma


Everyday battles are fought. Some we win and others we lose. Sometimes these battles are within us and other times they are without. However, our winning or losing these battles defines what most of our lives become in the bigger picture.

I was in the forefront of a battle I couldn’t win. I was born to lose the battles and the wars. Unlike most of the rest of the world, I had a reason to complain, to be bitter or be depressed, I had a right to curse at the day of my birth, to despise the world in its obsession in bountiful vanity.

Every day was a dark one, like my destiny had been eclipsed by the incomprehensible shade of fate, hence, my impossible position. The race started far before I got on the track, when my fate was sealed in a sale. There they stood, unaware of the fox disguised as a friend, in total oblivion of the role they had to play in the lives of generations to come, that as my brothers trooped away into the neighbor’s ban, trooping humbly to their slaughter, they were catapulting posterity back into the past.

So I stand today, the product of a decision that occurred centuries ago, still haunted by their wailing screams, by the drowning voices down in the great ocean, by bruised knees, and crackling whips.

But I am no longer plagued by the cunny fox or his task masters, now I am imprisoned by my own brothers; I am deprived by the elders who were once the blueprint for the values our culture upheld. I am a mockery not because I am not intelligent, or because I am poor, or because I am less than human but because I am supposed to play cards when none have been dealt. I have lost this battle not because  I am not valiant, or courageous, but because my fathers have sold me out and pushed me to the fore front with nothing but scrawny bones, an empty stomach, no education and no sense of direction.

They have taught me that everyone must fight for himself and himself alone, that the society is not mine and should not be built. They have shown me that a leader is god and cannot be scrutinized, they have taught me to pay no attention to the tears of a little child, not to help with the burden of the elderly, they have shown me that the war is lost, and that we will forever remain slaves.

We have gained independence from the fox, but our brothers have left us in our shackles. This is my story, I am an African child.


Yo!!! Its Teebabsy


Happy New Month my darlings!!


Hope y’all are doing great??


Its been one hell of a week for me but through it, He (Baba God) keeps me going and I write when I want to escape it all.


Y’all should Anticipate next week the hottest series ever on this blog.

*drum rolls please*


Mists and Melodies

By: @mercysuga_rush


Till then, Tu dois etre patient!!


Without further ado, I present to you;



By: @teebabsy


Ermmmm….Clears throat

Well today, we are going to treat a very sensitive topic that affects us all.

You know how when you were growing up and your parents give you all those speeches. There’s the one about remembering the child of whom you are, the be hard-working speech, the love God speech and then the be independent speech.

They tell us how we should trust no one else or depend on another except God and we set out just to do what we have been advised.

We set up our walls and standards so high and we make it a point of duty not to let anyone get too close. Familiarity breeds contempt, we remind ourselves always.

But the bitter truth is the heart is one Sly Nigga! We let our guard down and in the end, we let in that special “someone”.

We don’t know how it happens but that person wriggles their way into our hearts and lives breaking down those insurmountable walls we took so much time and effort to build.

It might be that family friend, that classmate, that roomate or hall-mate either boy or girl that just paid us a little attention and before we know it, we open up to them like a hibiscus flower in full bloom.

We let them in on our deepest of secrets and desires. We tell them everything and anything, even the ones our parents must not hear about. They know the good, the bad, and the terrible.

We do this because we trust them, hoping that our secret is safe with them. That one person becomes your sole CONFIDANT.

You have other friends but then there’s that special one that knows every damn thing about you.

And then it happens, they break that trust and it hurts so bad. They wreck our hearts and we bleed internally.

It might be that little secret you expected them to keep and they let it out, it might be using that terrible flaw of yours against you when upset, it might even be doing the unexpected.

You curl up in a ball and cry your eyes out. You feel hurt and betrayed. Your heart is in need of some damage control.

But that’s not the part that hurts the most. The most painful part is when that someone is confronted, they go ahead to say it wasn’t their fault and guess who’s at fault??

They blame that guy that lives miles away in a Long black and red gown with a long tail holding a three pronged fork.

And that is the main issue for today.

Countless times we blame him for everything that we do without taking full responsibility for our actions.

We hurt people, do certain wrongs and we find it very convenient to blame it on the guy. Sometimes I pity the “poor dude”.

You cheat on a test, you get caught and you’re expelled!

Did he give you the “scrounge” you took in??? Did he scribble down all the answers on your lap or did he tell you how to put it in your hair so no one would notice??

You made the decision yourself.

You let out a friend’s secret, she’s ridiculed by others and as a result she’s hurt. Did He put his fork to your throat before you opened your mouth??

It was your choice.

That’s the major problem today. We find it so easy to shift the blame. As a result, there’s so much hurt and evil in the world and who gets blamed???

The same guy in the black and red gown.

But we forget our actions are only a reflection of our thoughts and the content of our hearts. We do only that which we want to do.

He only gives us a little shove in the wrong direction. Its our decision to choose to budge or not. The ball is entirely in our court.

So I’d say let’s think twice before we do that nagging thought in the corners of our heart! Think about its effect and consequences.

But if eventually we do hurt someone, let’s all man up and take responsibility and try to make amends to be a better person.

I have come to learn that no one is perfect and even though I’ve been hurt few times, I’ve come to learn to forgive and know that time heals all wounds.

The true essence of opening up to anyone is risking the possibility to get hurt and if it happens, and the person owns up wanting to make amends, who am I not to forgive?? After all, I’ve hurt others too.

We are only human and we are all flawed in one way or the other.

Well that’s only my view about it, feel free to hit up the comment box and express you…


With Sugary Love…


Yo!! Its Teebabsy


Hope y’all are doing great?


Guys, I featured on another blog this week and y’all can check it out here;



Without further ado, I present to you;



By: @mercysuga_rush


ka·lei·do·scope /kəˈlīdəˌskōp/
A constantly changing pattern or sequence of objects or elements…


Hi guys, well i haven’t written in a while and i know that my darling faithfuls are really mad at me, I apologise.

Well today, i have this issue that i would like us to discuss. Yup, discussion, meaning at the end of this post, you use the comment box to express you.

Its amazing how things come to be. How you figure out how your life, day or week would go and with the most annoying twist of fate, everything comes undone.

You know, you wake up in the morning, plan that you would finally finish that paper you have been working on, go out with your friends and get home in time for the match.

Eventually, you don’t only not fail to finish writing the paper, your phone miraculously dies on the road, on your way to meet up your friends, and you cant get them to find out where they are.

Frustrated, you decide to return home to console yourself with good football and you get stuck in a stand still lagos traffic! Makes you wonder who you have offended.

However lets also note that there are days that just become good without us even trying. The days that make you feel like you are in the VIP list of life.

With this as my premise, i come down to the matter. We ALL, especially if you are a girl with access to civilisation.

In fact, even if you live in a cave and the nearest thing you have to a television is your reflection in the pond, or you watch “TV” on electronic billboards, and those of you that use twitter as your television, copying and pasting peoples comments of different shows.

All of us, all girls have at one point in their life or are at the moment or are perpetually imaging and figuring out the kind of man they want to date.

We have already decided how we want him to behave, how we want him to treat us around our friends, how much we want him to spend on us weekly, where we want him to take us to, the getaway weekends in different countries, his complexion, height, body mass index, EVERYTHING!

We have our Prince Charming (that Charming name though, I don’t know the retard that thought it up, cause some niggas can’t be charming no matter what!) He is all thought out and everything a girl wants is in him.

We begin to look towards it, and for some of us, we work towards getting “Mr. The One.” We go to all the places we expect to meet our Mr. The One, we plan and wear all the kind of clothes that attract The One.

I digress at this juncture, some of us dress up in different coloured uniforms and expect to attract a lawyer with a six figure salary, my dear, let me tell you in easy terms, YOU ARE JONZING!!!!

The only thing you will attract with that kind of combination of rags is all those #20-bribe-collecting Police men on the road. Those are the ones that will come after you. I’m telling you now!

I return. We watch all those movies and read all those books with funny titles;

” 1000 ways to find and keep your dream man”.

We even decide to forfeit the normal way that nature has intended for us to, think and begin to act like a lady and think like a man, so much so that we become full grown men in short dresses and heels.

We eat right, talk right, use the right pitch for laughing, so that we don’t sound like a retarded seal. Okada, our beloved most preferred mode of transportation, becomes prohibited for us between the hours of 6am to 11:30pm.

In fact, to make sure our work is foolproof and to fortify it against all the witches in the village, we take the matter to the Lord in prayer. Attending all singles meeting with the list in our bag, to cross check the men there.

Some of us even take it a little bit further by increasing our offerings and adding a note in the envelope that reads,

” Dear God, I have increased my offering, Please look at my list and send my man to me”.

All in a bid to get this The One dude.

The struggle….sigh.

With all these preparations and hard work, fate STILL brings on its twisted sense of humour. You say you are looking for a Yoruba, tall and dark man, that has no “H” factor, and you get a short and fair Ibo man, with a thick “Nna” accent!

Trust me, I have been in these shoes, I had a picture perfect frame and standard for my kind of man. From his looks to his job, to his age, to the amount he makes per year, to the family he should from, to his favourite colour, to how much he should adore me!

I had it all figured out, but it seems I just could never get him. Everybody around me, seemed to have the kind of man that I wanted, he just wasn’t coming to me.

Every guy that came, didn’t meet up and the ones that where close to perfection had major flaws.

I know many of us, girls and boys alike, are in this fix. Its very frustrating and very confusing. Worse still if you are a girl, and you decide to scamper through every fibre of man that you come across in your bid to find the perfect man, you are automatically termed a whore.

You become a two-bit bitch, who doesn’t know what she wants. Reminds me of a post, Bitch or Misunderstood.

What do we do?! How do we solve these? Do we have to settle for less than what we want for our lives? Do we just take whatever life tosses at us? Is there anything wrong in having standards and sticking to them?

If the standards are too high, how come others get people that fit? There are 1000 unanswered hip hop questions running through our minds.

Hit us up on the comment box, tell me what you think. If you can relate to this post, feel free to drop your own perspective.

As for me, I decided to let myself go. I might not have found what I want, but I have found what i need. I might not have found “Mr. ‘ready-made’ Perfect”, but I have found a plain canvass with whom I can draw out a beautiful perfect life.

I do not know if he is for the moment or the long haul, but all I know is I have found something that I wont trade for anything else.

I have found my imperfect reflection and I am comfortable with all the rough curves and edges.

However this post is not about me, its about you! You know the drill, Use the comment box to express you! See you on the flip side.


With Sugary Love…

Till I Find…

Yo!! Its Teebabsy


*dodges all items being thrown at me*


I’m sorry I’ve been away my darlings! I was tres busy plus the Alien Nation Concert but we are back now and better!!


In case y’all missed Ikechi’s Covenant, don’t worry we are coming to Universities near you real soon Whenever ASUU frees us!


Y’all should anticipate on Wednesday 29th October Continue reading

Second Fiddle

Yo!!! Its Teebabsy


Hope y’all are doing great??

In case y’all haven’t heard, something out of this world is going to be happening on the 20th of this month at Unilag Main Auditorium!!!

*drumrolls please*


Its Alien Nation Dance Crew’s first Epic Concert titled “Ikechi’s Covenant”. Its going to be a dance concert like you have never seen it before. We bringing down the house y’all!! Ticket- 1k Time- 3.30 & 5.30pm. Also Featuring Nikki Laoye & Pita!


Don’t say I didn’t tell y’all!! See y’all there!!


Without Further Ado, I present to you;


Second Fiddle

By: @teebabsy


The sun rays filter in through the curtains
I watch as he tosses and turns
He’s the most beautiful sight I’ve ever come across
He’s the one my heart had always chosen
He’s always been the perfect match for me

My heart is filled with so much love as
He’s the one I’d always adore
Being with him is never a chore
He completes me in every way.

Life a thief in the night, he comes
Making his way into my house
But hurries out each morning
To the one who he truly belongs to

With each visit, new heights of passion
And pleasure are attained
We stay up all night, talk and laugh
But before the break of dawn
He sneaks out the same way he came

Our relationship is a secret
That’s been buried nine years
As he belongs to another
But my heart longs for no other
I do not care of his wife or kids
Without him, my world is amiss


He had once been mine
In those days of youthful bliss
A diamond ring he had given me
But I had been terrified of marriage
I had loved him but was scared of what
That love would do so I shut it out

My mother did love my father
But he had walked out on us for my aunt when I was three
That sight is forever evergreen
My mother was distraught
A shadow of herself she became
Countless times, she tried ending her life
Simply because her love was thrown at her face

Why would I be any different?
I had thought
The same blood runs through our veins
I might just be cursed with the same fate
To risk such hurt, I couldn’t
So I fled the morning after his proposal

So many men I met after
But none had compared to him
They had all fallen short
Then it struck me
I had lost my soul mate because I was
Scared to take a chance on love

Fate brought us together again
I had been so excited
But sadly enough he had moved on
He now belonged to another
But his heart was still mine
It had never left

One thing led to another and I was in his arms again
It felt like I had never left
I realised no one else would ignite
These kind of feelings ever again


He opens his eyes now and looks at me
Realising its morning, he hurriedly gets up
Its time to leave
Sadness engulfs my heart
But a smile is plastered on my face
He dresses up and looks at me
Lovingly brushing his lips with mine
My body tingles all over

I don’t care what the world thinks
I have found that which makes my heart sing
I have accepted my twisted fate
And so I start my day awaiting his return
He is that which makes me happy
and I’m content knowing a second fiddle I would forever be…


With Sugary Love…

Use the comment box to express how

you feel



Yo!!!Its Teebabsy


Hope y’all are doing fine??


Anticipate on Sunday 13th October;


Second Fiddle

By: @teebabsy


Without further ado, I present to you:



By: @pwitikid


Tears of joy streamed down Bolu’s face, as he stared at her body laying lifeless in her own pool of blood. On his knees, he dropped the blood stained dagger he had used on her a while ago.

He put the back of his palm to his nose, smelling the blood that had stained it, just before he licked her blood off the back of his palm. Tasty, bliss, the metallic taste of her blood was thrilling, he could stay there all day, just to smell the enjoyable fragrance of blood.

If he had known of the pleasure this would bring, he would have done it long ago. His Hands trembled in excitement, and his body grew weak, as if the bottled up anger and pain from all these years had been his strength.

The woman who had only been a source or torment, torture, abuse…. (Call it any negative name you want) was now dead, by his own hands.

The woman who should have been a figure of Joy and respect, but was responsible for his pain and suffering, was gone, courtesy him, Boluwatife Omobolaji Evans and all he could feel was pure joy, without regrets, not even the tiniest bit….

Bolu had his first taste of the forbidden fruit, as a twelve year old Lad. The “druggie” (as he had regularly referred to her in his head) was his first. She had called him into his room and ordered him to undress.

He obeyed without complain, he could not refuse his mom. If he had dared to, she would have beaten him senseless and eventually had her way. She made him lie on the not so tidy bed, She picked up the ropes he had sighted earlier when he came in and tied his hands and legs to the four corners of the student-sized bed.

She immediately undid the bath robe that decently covered her sex starved body. She climbed the bed and knelt between his wide open thighs, taking his ‘thing’ in her mouth, she teased and sucked till it grew bigger and harder.

Bolu felt like a goat in a slaughter house, his body felt pleasure, but his mind was in pain. He was terrified that his mother would do this, he knew it was wrong, but if he as much as said anything it would only land him a couple of thunderous slaps. Tears flowed down his eyes to his ears, as he watched his mother change positions while riding him.

Bolu had a bigger frame than most of his mates, he was going to be tall and muscular, just like his late father, at least that was what relatives always said anytime they saw him. (You know the way yoruba people are now) His father had died in an accident when he was just two, so all he could remember of his late dad were pictures he had seen while growing up.

At fifteen, Bolu had begun to have his own sexual escapades with the 22 year old house girl. He had a knack for older women, and was a pro in his own right in the art of seduction. His mom did a great job of coaching him in bed, just as she made his life miserable.

She had moved from tying him up, to instructing him to do the dirty work. Anytime he failed to totally satisfy her, she would resort to the initial rope system. She acted like his girlfriend even in public, but people just put it off as love from a mother to her only son.

He often wondered what kind of conscience she had, anytime she shouted hallelujah loud in church. Everyone thought highly of her and always respected her. Are people even blind? How could people not even notice that he wasn’t happy?

Couldn’t they see sign that she was on drugs? He despised her, but he had to give it to her, she was a good actress. Besides the abuse and torture, she always fed him well, and always made sure he had his three square meals and at nowhere besides home.

“You need to eat well” She would say, “so you can be a real man for me”. He lived in fear and dread, as any mention of his name could mean a call to duty.
By the time Bolu officially entered into adulthood, his mother had employed and fired over fifty house helps (maybe not up to that, but Damn! She changed them more often than she changed her toothbrush).

She fired them once she suspected closeness to Bolu. Mrs Evans had become too possessive of Bolu over the years and had made sure nothing ensued between he and other girls.

She enrolled him in a secondary school only a few streets away from home, and gave him an ultimatum of ten minutes to get home. Any time she saw him talking to any girl by chance, she embarrassed the girls, thereby making sure they stayed away from Bolu. She could not imagine sharing her son and lover with anyone else.

Bolu stared into the mirror at himself holding the shiny dagger that looked so sharp, it would cut through effortlessly. It had taken almost a year to get Olamide to talk to him. He truly loved her and was willing to go any length for her, even though she was two years younger.

His interest in her despite her age had convinced him that he was in love. It took a lot more effort to convince her to go on a date with him.

The day set for the date had come, he had to sneak out of the house which he had never done for fear of his mother’s wrath. He didn’t care if she caught him just so he could be with the only person that truly made him smile.

He felt a strong connection as they got along pretty well. Just as they were coming out at the end of their date, “druggie” suddenly appeared from nowhere. Instantly, he felt his stomach tighten, he was in fear- not fear for himself, but fear for Olamide.

His fears were true as his Mrs Evans immediately pounced on light skinned Olamide and began to beat her. Bolu tried to save Ola, but his mother got up, and kicked him in the groin;

“You! Abo wa ba loro e” She said as she returned beating Olamide

“stupid girl, you want to spoil my son’s life… I will not let you”

She kept repeating as she beat Olamide. It took the intervention of four full grown and well built men, to get mrs Evans off. Olamide was rushed to the hospital, she had become unconscious. Bolu followed the rescue team to the clinic to make sure Ola was alright.

When he got the report that his Ola barely escaped death (due to her asthmatic condition) from the doctor, he stormed out of the clinic and went straight home fuming with anger, he was ready to fight this woman, no matter what it took him.

But the anger transformed into fear as the moment he got to the gate, he stopped in his tracks. He wasn’t sure what punishment she would have waiting for him. “Damn her and her punishment” he muttered under his breath as he pushed the gate open and charged for the door.

She wasn’t home or she would have been in the sitting room, Waiting to devour him as usual. He went straight to his room, climbed over the bed to reach the book shelf that stood beside the bed.

He ransacked the second floor of the shelf, pouring and scattering his books, till he finally found what he was looking for. The dagger he had neatly wrapped and kept away from his mother.

He unwrapped it as he moved towards the mirror, he twisted and turned it carefully examining the sharp edge and pointed tip. He couldn’t swallow anymore shit from that woman who parades her self as his mother.

She had done a lot of things he was willing to endure, but this time she had pulled the straw that broke his camel’s back.

Wasn’t she contented with the abuse and torture she had always meted out to him? No one could hurt Ola and get away with it, especially not her.

He had had enough of her and would take no more Crap! Just then he heard the door to his room open behind him, and knowing it was his mother, he turned to face her while hiding the dagger behind him.

She walked in looking drugged up as usual.

“Why do you have to put me through this all the time?” She said walking towards him with the pestle she had picked up from the kitchen…

“I told you I’ll share you with no other person. I would not let you leave like your father did, No. Not while I’m alive”.

She said all these with tear streaming down her face; ” I love you son…”

Her voice growing louder with every word.

“but you always make me hurt you as you never listen.”

Bolu just stared at in disgust as he concluded that she was unbalanced upstairs.

“Is it because you don’t love me too?”

Normally, Bolu would have responded with a resounding No. But this time he just stared at her with hatred, disgust… In his eyes.

“Or don’t you love me?

She repeated this time screaming, bolu still did not budge.

“Aaaaarrrrrrggghhhhh” She screamed as she launched forward to pounce on Bolu, but was met halfway with a kick on the chest from Bolu’s long and strong legs.

She flew back hitting her against the door (like in one of those action movies… You know now!). Bolu saw his chance and rushed forward sitting on her before she could make any move.

With all the anger and strength that was in him, he stabbed her, multiple times, aiming for her heart only. Not minding that blood was splashing all over him he kept stabbing till he could not feel her moving anymore.

He felt lighter, like a burden had just been lifted off his shoulder. His shackles have been broken, he was finally free. Free from fear, abuse, torture, torment…
Though the wounds run deep, and the scars would remain, happiness could not describe what he felt…. She was gone, and he was free.

“This new found freedom won’t be taken for granted” Bolu murmured under his breath as he walked away, at midnight, from the bungalow that had served as torture room for as long as he could remember.

“I’ll make the most of it, I’ll Defend the defenceless” anger rising in him as he thought of other people who suffer even worse fates than he did.

But damn the law, the law would be too slow and considerate. He was going to be the judge in such cases, his dagger as his gavel, he’ll sentence them to eternal damnation.

They’ll get what they deserve, and the children would be happy once again, he thought, as he reached for his the pocket of his coat, to feel his precious dagger. He was born again, a Judge in his own right, a serial killer…


With Sugary Love…


Yo!!Its Teebabsy


Happy Sunday to y’all!!

Well, today’s post was written out of my crazy, wild imagination!! I couldn’t help but put pen to paper!!

I hope y’all like it!!


Without further ado, I present to you;



By: @teebabsy


Oh! How I love to be lost in the depth of her hazel brown eyes
To gaze at her luscious full lips and
Her well rounded hips,
To feel her heart beat against my chest
Mine almost rhyming with hers
Though each heartbeat stirs up the hunger within
My love for her conquers the thirst

Oh! How I love her warmth
Her scent; Intriguing
Even magnolia flowers can’t compare
How I love to hear her laugh
See her smile and be the reason for it

For Centuries, I could gaze upon her
Taking note of every detail of her face
She’s an enigma
A mystery I want to unravel
A mystery that has captured my heart

A daily battle it is for me
To tame the demon within
So I deny my true nature
All for the one my heart craves for


Oh! How I love his Cold skin
The firmness of his grip with every gentle touch or caress
In his arms, I feel safe
In them, my world is perfect.

Words cant define him
He is more than mere adjectives
How I love how his skin shimmers in the Sunlight
His perfect set of teeth exposing the most beautiful set of fangs
A sight that scared me at first but is now so familiar.

How I love to see the hunger in his eyes
I can tell he wants me but loves me enough to not hurt me

Our meeting; Destined
Our passion; Unquenchable
Our desire would unleash flames
that would set ablaze many forests
Our future; Impossible


My Clan see her as an easy prey
But never would they have their way
For she has come to stay
Why settle for “an ordinary human” they say
But she’s priceless in every way

She would never be one of us
Its a dead end, they say
Go for one of your own


My family scold and ridicule me
They do not see beneath his exterior
“A monster” “A Beast” they call him
But he’s perfect in every way
Though their words sting like bees
His tender kisses ease all pain

Crazy, some call me
I do not argue with them
For I am insane
Stark raving mad I agree
But I’m crazy for no other
Than the one who has become my soul mate


Our being together is impossible
Fate has dealt us a heavy blow
Two hearts came together as one
But Star crossed lovers they were
How Stupid Cupid must have been
For stirring in us that which was Forbidden….


With Sugary Love…

Lagos Dance Exhibition 

​Lagos  at  50  celebrations  continue  with the  Lagos  Dance  Exhibition Contrary  to the  information  that  the  Lagos  at  50 celebrations  have  come  to  an  end, Lagos State remains  in  a  celebratory  mode throughout  the  year  2017,  and  this  is evident  in  the  upcoming  event; The Lagos  Dance  Exhibition;  this  is undoubtedly  the  biggest  dance  show  of 2017,  where  the  A-list Choreographers and  dancers  in  Nigeria,  will  be converging  to  celebrate  Lagos. This spectacular  event  will  feature  breath-taking  performances  in  different  styles and  genres,  put together  by renowned choreographers  such  as  Bimbo Obafunwa,  Wale  ‘rubber’,  Lovette Otegbola, Victor  Phullu,  Gbenga  Yusuf, Frank  Knowea,  Captain  Quest,  Lilian Yeri,  Qudus  Onikeku,  Sani,  Ijodee, amongst  a  Plethora  of  Others.   

This unique  exhibition  will  also  feature  the renowned  Nobel  Laureate  Professor  Wole  Soyinka,  as  well as  other  actors,  such  as  Debbie  Ohiri,  and  William  Benson. 

According  to  the  Artistic  and  Creative  Directors,  Bimbo  Obafunwa  and  Wale  rubber,  the  all-star dancers,  and  choreographers  will  be choreographing  and  performing  pieces  that  tell  different  but connected  stories  about  the  great  city  of  Lagos,  and  there  will  be  showcase  performances  going  on  all around  the  Terra  Kulture  Facility  from  midday  APART  FROM the  TWO  showings  of  the  exhibition  at 3pm  and  6pm,  these  unprecedented  and  epic  exhibition  will  feature  dance  pieces  chronicling different  aspects  of  the  fantastic  city  of  Lagos. And  they  aptly  titled  it,  @harold1723 

THE LAGOS DANCE EXHIBITION,  or  LDX. And  you  guessed  right,  it  will  be  going  down  at  the  TERRA  KULTURE  ARENA  on  Tiamiyu  Savage  Street, Victoria  Island,  Lagos,  on  the  17th  of  June  2017.  Exhibition  starts  at  3pm  and  6pm.   Dance  has  bloomed  and  blossomed  exponentially  over  the  last  decade,  and  the  Lagos  State Government  has  graciously  added  an  exhibition  of  the  finest  Lagos  has  to  offer  to  the  festivities surrounding  LAGOS  AT  50!

 LDX  is  powered  by  the  Lagos  State Government,  produced  by  Corporate Dance  World,  and  supported by  SPAN Nigeria,  and  Terra  Kulture. 

For  more  information @corporatedanceworld  on  Instagram and  Facebook  and  @cdwnaija  on  Twitter 


Hey guys, it’s Teebabsy!!

I know it’s been a “Zillion years” since I last wrote but Law school is no joke. 

I sure have missed it. 

Happy International Women’s day. 

Today’s post is one dear to my heart. Old but gold!! Found it when I was digging through my archives. 

Everyone has at one point in time been in those situations where we question everything; our worth, our beliefs & ideals. 

This post is an exposé of how being in such “a place” really feels & a reminder that we all deserve to be happy. 

No one should ever have to endure that 


Only fools rush in they warned 

I would be different I thought

If only I knew I would be just like the rest

Love struck & desperate for a happy ever after 

I have become the laughing stock 

People call me Stupid 

But I am not 

I see it all you know 

How you make me doubt myself 

How I never seem to get it right 

How you constantly remind me you could do better 

I see it all 

How you belittle my demands for attention or “mutual respect”

How I constantly have to beg you to listen 

How I have to be sorry for everything 

Even those times that you hurt me 

I see it all 

How I’ve become the crazy lady 

In love with someone who doesn’t love her back 

I see it all 

How I selflessly & unconditionally care for you 

And you throw it back in my face 

I see it all 

How I give in to your ego 

Just to make you feel like a man 

I see it all 

How I play the puppet

Just to watch you pull the strings 

I see it all 

How you toy with my emotions 

And prophesy love in the end 

I see it all 

Those text messages and pictures 

Even the lacy lingerie in the corners of your wardrobe 

I see it all

How It sometimes feels like I float this ship for two 

I see it all 

How much I’m HURTING

How sickening this is

I see it all 

How much I know I deserve better 

Someone who loves me just as much 

One who reminds me how lucky he is to have me 

I see it all 

How desperately I want to be OVER you

How I want to say;

Adieu, to you this unrequited love 

Sadly, the irony is I’m still in love with you 

I see it all 

Except the day I bid us farewell 

So Take a bow Cupid, this one’s on you. 


With Sugary Love…

To go or not to go 

Hey babe, can we talk for a second? Generally I’m scared to bring these issues up with you because really I’m not sure how you would react. I kinda have a strong feeling that it wouldn’t be the reaction I’m looking for.

I just want to talk honestly for a second. 

You see I like nice places. I really do. I like the fact that I can go to places where the cream of the society go to. I like the ambience of these places, most of all,i like the pictures I can take there. I like the Instagram pictures and the snapchat story that I can make there. Yes it’s vain I know.

Most importantly I want to experience these places. I want to taste the nice foods, drink the exotic wines, you know have the full experience. 

Here is the problem. 

You don’t have to take me to these places. Its absolutely in no way compulsory. I’d really love that you do, but you don’t have to. And sincerely I won’t like you any less if you don’t. 

So when you say you want to take me to a nice place, all I ask is one thing; Can I have the whole experience? 

You can’t take me to an expensive restaurant and not want me to have expensive stuff. It really doesn’t make much sense.

We can’t come to this nice place and you order a bottle of star for you, a can of origin for me and a plate of suya. For God sake why?! 

Why didn’t we just go to your favorite roadside bar? I would have eaten this suya wholeheartedly there. But here?! Why would you bring me to first class, and give me a coach experience?! 

Baby this doesn’t exactly make much sense. 

I’m really not about you robbing a bank,but honey if we are going to go to an expensive place, can you please let me have that?

I am still insanely in love with you baby, please don’t be mad. 

Just think about this when deciding where to go or not to go.