5 Aug

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Her First Confession by (@SpeechyLucia) Edafioka Eguono Lucia

20 Dec

Port Harcourt book festival

2 Nov

The Port Harcourt book festival ran from the 21st to 26th of October 2013. I heard about it from a friend, searched the web and decided to attend the book festival, after all ASUU… clears throat) the major hook for me was the creative writing workshops. So come 20th I packed up a bag and hello port Harcourt.
It is the first book festival I attended, I didn’t know what to expect. There were seminars in the morning; workshops in the afternoon, evenings had meet the author/ book signings and drama presentations.
The seminars
I expected the seminars to be just long speeches but they were interesting. The panel discussions gave it a lively twist. Day 2 of the event had the state governor and Dr. Ezekwesili who gave the key note speech. We had academics, authors, poets, lawyers, etc. The day I enjoyed most had to be day3, with Sage Hassan the spoken word poet. I loved how he made his point Art for Art sake, then he performed one of his poems and it was awesome. Mouths were left hanging, mine included.the sage panel discussions
The workshops
This was the major reason why I decided to attend the book festival. I registered for the short story class which was facilitated by the Chika Unigwe. Yay. My mind was blank once more on expectations, what would she be like, would the class be good? My fears were casted away when she stepped into the class. She was warm, friendly, full of smiles and also very pretty. She carried the class along, explained the point of each exercise, read short story excerpts and gave general advice on writing. Although we couldn’t really do much because of time on some days, other days we had debaters flogging a point over and over. Once I almost screamed shut up!!! But Chika was just calm, smiling I wondered how she was so patient and kind to everyone. In all, I enjoyed the classes. 😀 Mr. Binyavanga facilitated the creative non fiction class, and participants of that class had nothing but good words too.chika teaching
Meet the author/book signings
Each meet the author event I attended left me with a single thought. Writing is not beans, can I really do it? There were authors who spent twelve years on a book, others six years, three years and so on. I asked myself if I had the patience and focus writing needs. At the end, my respect for authors grew more, knowing the amount of work and dedication they put into writing. We had Titi Horsfall,Christie Bature, Molara Woods, Julius Agwu, Chika Unigwe, Binyavanga Wainana, Eghosa Imasuen, and the Dr. ElechiAmadi. Respect. titi horsfall and Christie Bature Tare the binj
Drama presentations
There was only one drama presentation, by a theatre group called spurs on stage. They presented Femi Osofisan’s Women of Owu. The theatre group did justice to the play; everyone in the hall was moved by their performance it was so touching. I wished the gods had intervened though.  .women of owu The jazz and poetry evening in honor of late Kofi Awoonor and Chinua Achebe was also very entertaining. Pa Gabriel Okara gave a remarkable tribute. That evening the legends came alive again.
The book fair
There were a thousand and one books available for sale. I was like a kid in a candy shop; I couldn’t even decide which to buy on the first day, my bank account made the decision for me in the end.i bought  I wanted moreeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

It was a wonderful experience, I learnt loads, had a great time frolicking with creative minds, met amazing people (Tari, Bimbo, Caleb, Aquila, Chris, Chidiadi, Youpele and the lovely Jite). Thanks to the organizers, Mrs.koko kolango and the rivers state government. (Side eye at Delta state government). It was all enthralling! Thank you.

Our Oge.

2 Sep

My room mate Ogechi, is stingy. In fact her full name is Ogechi ‘Stingy’ Eze. She’s stingy with everything. You cannot borrow anything from Ogechi. You could just say, “Ogechi please do you have…” and without letting you finish, she’d reply, “nope, whatever you are about to ask for I don’t have.” We know Oge and we’ve gotten used to her.
She’s even stingy to herself. Oge would have one million naira in her account. Once our food items finishes, she’ll join us in drinking garri; us being Ebele, Chisom and I. That’s her only flaw. She’s a perfect roommate in every other way.

“Ha! Oge you see money pick?” Ebele asked.
Ogechi laughed. “If una talk too much, I go change my mind.” You should have seen how quickly we all peemed our mouths despite our shock that Ogechi offered to cook. It was just before exams. Our eating code had become 1, 0, 1 on good days and ½, 0, 1 on bad days. It was on a bad day, when we ate ½, 0, and we weren’t even sure where dinner was coming from that Oge announced she’s going to cook for everyone. We all watch after her as she leaves for the market, our minds struggling to accept what was happening.

About half an hour later Oge returned from the market with meat, vegetables, and condiments for soup. We jumped into the kitchen and started preparing to cook amidst gossip. I picked up the meat to wash but it was roasted.
“Oge you bought roasted meat to cook?” I asked
“Yes. But it’s for only me. I cannot provide soup for you guys and meat too, go and buy your own meat for your soup,” Oge replied snatching the meet from my grasp.
We all burst into laughter. Yes, this is the Oge we know. Chisom, with her sensitive nose, points out that the meat smells bad. We take turns smelling it and agree. Oge refuses to accept the evidence. I bought it from my customer, she says, so it cannot be bad. We are too hungry to argue, so we cook the soup and proceed to eat. A final plea from Chisom: Oge don’t eat that meat it is bad. Hian! Chisom leave me alone, so because it is bad I should throw it away? Throw my 200 Naira away? She replies, taking a bite out of the meet to prove her point.
Our point was proved three hours later when we rushed Oge to the hospital after several bouts of stooling and vomiting.

Aunty Jite.

17 Aug

“Your papa! Na wetin I send you be this?” Aunty Jite shouted as she flung the paper bag across the room. I knew I was in trouble already. Aunty Jite cursed all the time, she said ‘your papa’, ‘your mama’ when she was angry, or ‘your head’, or any part of your body that first caught her attention while spreading her fingers apart in your face. She picked up her slippers and threw them in my direction. I ducked. That was the second survival skill I had learnt since I arrived at her house. The first was to run when she lost her temper or when she was drunk, which happened every day.
Aunty Jite is my mummy’s cousin. She lives in Warri; she was one of the numerous relatives who visited us in Lagos occasionally with plenty of sweets and other things. That was when daddy was alive. After daddy died they stopped coming. We had to move to smaller house, mum said it was to save cost. One day, Aunty Jite visited, she and mum talked late into the night. I kept hearing my name, Tega, in their conversation. In the morning, mum told me I’d be going to Warri with Aunty Jite.
Aunty Jite has a bar where she sells pepper soup and all types of beer. She also sells drinks that smelled funny, the type dad used to drink with his friends. I serve the customers in the bar along with Onome and Okiemute, Aunty Jite’s ‘girls’. Everyone says I’m dull and sluggish. I try to explain to them: the bar was too noisy, it was difficult to hear the customers’ orders, the smoke makes it difficult for me to breathe. Once, I tripped and fell and broke the dishes I was carrying, Aunty Jite beat me so much I passed out. The next day, as Onome was applying robb to my body she told me to run next time Aunty Jite wants to flog me, if not she will kill me. I nodded. Soon enough I learnt that and dodging her slippers.
Today, the bar is scanty, there is a light drizzle outside. The men come in with their boots and rain coats. I know a few of them; they always come to drink pepper soup and beer every night. I greet them and take their orders, Aunty Jite says any talk apart from ‘migwo bros, wetin you wan buy’, is forbidden in and out of the bar because the men were useless.
Today’s work was slow; Aunty Jite said her stomach was biting her. She asked me to go out to buy medicine for her.
I couldn’t find the umbrella, so I ran out to buy her Boscopan from the chemist down the street. I had already run half way there before I realized I had a problem, the street was very dark. I wanted to go back to get a torch, but Aunty Jite would see me and I was sure to get a slap. Fear enveloped me; I walked shakily, stopping after a few steps to make sure I was still on the path. By the time I got there I had forgotten the drug Aunty Jite sent me to buy. The chemist man was kind, he asked me what was wrong with my ‘Aunty’ I told him and he gave me red and yellow capsules. I prayed in my heart for it to be the one Aunty Jite sent. me to buy till I gave it to her. She cursed and threw things at me. As I ran out I tripped and fell, my forehead hit the floor. I felt blood on my face but I got up and continued running. I stopped behind the bar, sat on the ground and sobbed.
If daddy was alive we’d be out celebrating my 9th birthday.

This Post is dedicated to @jyte12


9 Aug

The girl swore under her breath
She cursed her fate
She’s carrying a bastard
One she could not let go
As she ran from the hospital
I joined their hearts

The woman looked down,
On the sick child,
She wept and prayed
For one more miracle
I gave her hope

The man wiped away his tears
He poured his blood on the land
He toiled and tilled
For the children and the woman
I gave him strength

I am with you.
I am in you
I am Eguono!

P.s Eguono is an urhobo word for love. ❤


22 Jun

Am sitting here, smiling

but the tapes are rolling,

in my head I see the hopes

the visions and the dreams,

for me, sheer bliss

to them,

minute and insignificant,

I have been misunderstood,

even from my first home,

Its losts thoughts and wishes

no one will care,about what I

 want,crave and desire

the clan will hear

the judgement will come,

it wont be a judgement

because I have already been condemned.