DIARY OF A COAST GIRL

Dear Dr. K, I've typed and deleted many texts, including one captioned “Hii Laadiiiess,” since “Hi Ladies” reminds me of your beautiful smile. I've been deleting and retyping because I don't know where to end or continue from. You are an amazing human❤️. And let's see if this works. Growing up, I had a lot of dreams. I remember my sister used to ask me to write where I saw myself in the next five years, starting from that year, and how everything should add up to get there. I used to write them in this blue Cinderella diary that had a lock so no one could access it, but somehow I feel life always had the key. Over the years, I've given up on many of the dreams I had. Anytime life threw a blow, one dream went down, and it continued until one day I told myself that life and I are probably polar opposites. Anytime things go wrong and we go in the same direction, things turn topsy-turvy. I remember one time after asking why bad things happen to me, my sister said, “M

    WHEN THE PIED CROW SINGS  It was a sunny day, and I had just returned from town after running errands for some people for a token. The journey back home was tiring and got me thinking.  I remember years ago, my aunties and uncles from the city always told us to study very hard and take our education very seriously so we can also grow up, get a good job, and get a better life in the city. We could buy our cars and build our houses, they said.  Well, I was in my bed thinking perhaps they didn't tell us the full story as they were also hunters then or their way of hunting was just different. Because coming to the city taught us to know people who know people. We should have an ass that could attract a market square or have fair skin as I was told "dark is ugly” and be as beautiful as the goddess of the sea. Again, my aunties didn't say I would've had to do multiple jobs just so I could make a dough that wouldn't even get me a corn dough at the end of the day.  All

For the past few days, I've been organizing my funeral. I’ve written down what I want my family to do, who should attend, and who shouldn't. I've decided who receives my belongings and which items should be given away. I have screenshots of messages that should be featured in my brochure, including what people have said about me on my birthday and the impacts I've made that have been mentioned and recorded. After crying and writing all this every day, I get up, smile, and go out. I decided I didn't want my secondary school to hold a candlelight vigil for me because that school killed me before I even died. I've mentioned people who must write a story about me, write key points, and named the book. I've also written letters to be delivered to some people who must look out for my mom, dad, and younger sister until she finishes her university education. Interestingly, while writing all this, I was helping others. I was sacrificing my time and energy for people

         A LETTER TO THE GENTLEMEN Dear Gentleman, I wanted to say the brightness of the day has given me this unique opportunity to write y'all this letter but looking at me wrapped in one of my mother's favorites clothes this dawn and shivering like a wet chicken, permit me to say the coldness of this early dawn breeze has pushed me to write y'all this letter. Before you run ahead of me because of "coldness" I want you to also know the matter is not a good one so just hold your smile and stick to my line both literally and figuratively.  In one of my random thoughts and in finding the answer to the question "Why do men lie?"My inner man, who is so far one of the men who hasn't lied or tried to be who he is not, dragged me to the Garden of Eden, and made me watch from the beginning when the serpent appeared till the end when Adam had to lie to save Eve. It then dawned on me, men lie to protect women. In fact, Adam did, how much more are the sons of

                                                                     PART ONE It was a breezy night, the moonlight showed brightly in the sky just like the stars. The chirping of the crickets could be heard all over. And the cats jumped from here and there after the family had their supper, perhaps they were arguing about who was supposed to take the bone that was taken by another. My grandma had done her singing and storytelling and everyone went to bed just like we do every night.  My mum came out of her room after putting my baby sister to sleep to pack some things before sleeping. She turned the lights off and went to have a night's rest. I believed my daddy, who had been the watchman of the house, had done his checks to know if everyone was in bed and their mosquito nets respectively in all the rooms including my grandmothers'.  I also went to sleep just like I always do in my room. I had no light in my room then though there were lights in all other rooms except that one

You know, there are people you meet in life, often in strange ways, who, even if they leave, you can never forget because of the memories you created together. It is the same for animals too. Growing up, we had a lot of cats that worried the hell out of our lives, but none of these cats were ones my parents or grandparents went hunting for, let alone buying. One just found us and became attached. One wounded orange cat started coming to our house. Nobody knew where it came from, but my dad used to feed it anytime it came. Then, before we realized it, the cat came with a kitten: a black-and-white cat that won the heart of everybody. The kitten was called Shaggy. Shaggy was the kind of cat that would run to meet my father even before he entered his room. He enjoyed every food my father enjoyed, and even in the morning, he was offered milk when Dad was having tea. When it was time for dining around our small table, you would hear people calling out, “Shaggy, Shaggy here, Shaggy there,” be