Tag: Writing101

Musings on a School Trip

Sitting on the bus;

My laptop on my laps;

Talking to no one;

My friends are in the other bus, how sad.

Now I’m next to a guy;

I’m probably not going to talk him for the rest of the trip;

It’s so hot out today, a perfect day ice cream;

Why do I have to go to school??

Okay I know the answer to that, but still…

A couple sitting in front of me;

They’re probably going to kiss soon;

I feel nauseated already;

I hate school trips;

Sleep calls…


To You, Future Me

Dear Aanu,

It’s me, I know you know me, more than anyone else in fact. I hope you have not forgotten me. I hope I am still there, even in the foggiest of memories. I hope you have forgiven me, yourself, for all the mistakes I made, I hope you have gotten on your feet and made something of yourself.

Do you love yourself even more now? Do you still care about what other people might think of you? Do still say, “Oh they might not like me, they’ll think I’m stupid”. Do you still shy away from the good things life has to offer because you’re “not bold enough” or “not tall enough”? I hope you don’t. I hope you are now bolder, more fearless and more powerful than ever. I hope you stand for what you believe in, I hope you stand for what is right.

Did you fulfil your childhood dreams? Do you still have more dreams that you want to see happen? Did you have to work really hard, or they came to you easy – I really hope they did not, good things don’t come easy. Did you face many obstacles, how did you overcome them? Which ones were really difficult? I hope you’re happy with whatever you have become, I hope you don’t have major regrets. I hope you are not satisfied with where you are and you are still looking towards a better future.

Have you found love, or is it just a myth? Is he like the men in the movies? Is he tall, dark and handsome like you always dreamed? Does he buy you flowers and write you poems? Does he love you despite all your flaws? Does he hold your hand and know when you’re down? Does he understand you like no one else does? Even if he does not fit perfectly into the description, I hope you are happy, whoever he is.

Are there flying cars now? Can you teleport to other dimensions? Is there time travel? Have robots taken over the world? I hope not. These are some things I would really like to know, but you can’t reply me because you don’t exist yet. You’re in me, waiting to be born. I hope your birth is a glorious one.


Two Limericks, Two Prompts

Two Limericks, Two Prompts

No serene place, no spot
Where I don’t have a flow of thoughts.
My pen always seems to dance anywhere
I know my inspiration is near,
Doesn’t matter if my piece is long or short.

The devil’s weapon,
A draft, my saving grace when thoughts come
So they’re not forgotten by the morning sun
And washed away into extinction.

Photo cred: Free Images

Hook ’em With a Quote (or two ;))

“To live is the most rarest thing. Most people exist, that is all.”

– Oscar Wilde

I watched a video recently on the Top 10 African Queens in history, of course those Queens had power and were brave and all but above that something struck me. The person that was giving the commentary said that those Queens weren’t ranked based on their power or bravery, but on how they had made an impact in their kingdoms.

That was the same day I received the Writing 101 prompt to write a blog post based on a quote. I was checking the Goodreads site for quotes and I found that one above, it really spoke to me. Unfortunately, I could not post that day because I was busy with school work and all. That day was Friday by the way. I could not also post on Saturday because I decided to take a break and just read other blog posts.

I had totally forgotten I wanted to make this post until today when I noticed the calendar hanging on the wall in my room had not been flipped to November (I’ve been a bit too busy lol). Well it’s a quote calendar with different quotes for each month so when I flipped it to November I saw this quote which is totally related to the quote prompt I chose above.

“Life’s most persistent and urgent question is, what are you doing for others?”

– Mahatma Gandhi

I had this “Oh shoot!” moment and immediately rushed to write this.
Wow, I’ve totally veered off topic. Well, the prompt was to write on a quote that inspires us and I found this quote by Oscar Wilde. It really struck me because of the meaning behind it.

So what does it mean to “live”?
To “live” is to pass through this world, no, to make the world pass through you (this basically means touching as many people as you can positively), making a difference, impacting people’s lives, putting smiles on others’ faces, making people feel your absence when you’re gone… I could go on and on but I think you get the main idea.

Now what does it mean to “exist”?
Existing is just the opposite of living. It’s passing through this world without anyone feeling your presence.

From the quote, Oscar Wilde is basically saying that most of the world’s population is just existing, not living. But the question that is posed to each and every one of us, including myself, is are we living or existing? What are we doing to help others? I know this question has been asked so many times but it’s something that should always be asked. We should reflect on that.

This post was a bit long but I hope you get the main idea. I hope y’all had blissful Sunday. Thanks for reading and have a lovely night! ☺


A Windy Day In The Woods


They danced and swayed together, to the unheard rhythm of the wind, in perfect synchronization.

None was complaining of how they had been dancing ‘for like forever’, they all danced with the same enthusiasm.

None was trying to outshine another, it was a perfect choreography. They were all complementing each other as they should’ve.

None was trying to ‘be the boss’, telling them how they were supposed to move or when they should stop, they all listened to the rhythm and knew when to move like it was jointly planned.

None was making fun of another with less branches or leaves, they all respected how every one of them were made.

None commanded another to stop dancing, because it wasn’t old enough or tall enough, or it was ‘too fat’ or ‘too thin’. They all accepted they were the same and danced together.

When the rhythm ceased, they ceased to dance, all giving a seemingly rehearsed bow. The show was over, I began to find my way back home hoping for another windy day in the woods when I can come watch the trees give their show once again.

In response to the Writing 101 image prompt above.


Leaving Home

For today’s Writing101 prompt: Home, a short story.

“No!!! You want to kill me abi? I will not let you kill me! You’re leaving this house today!”
I woke up from my afternoon nap to my dad shouting. “What’s going on this time?”, I thought.

I walked up to his room to find him in a torn singlet, probably pulled and ripped by someone in a fight, sitting on his bed. He looked extremely angry. I wasn’t really confused as to what had happened, they had fought a few times, but not like this, not ripping each others’ clothes, I was scared.

My mom came out of the closet carrying a box, I was confused. Her hair was a mess and she was sniffling. My suspicions were confirmed, they had fought, but this time she was carrying a box. It was then my stupid mouth decided to open before my brain could process what was happening. “Mummy, are you travelling?”, I foolishly asked.

My dad began to shout again, “You this woman you will not kill me, I will send you out before you kill me”. He then turned to me, gesturing to his ripped singlet and scratch marks, “Look at what your mother did to me, is this right ehn? She’s leaving this house today!”.

My mother turned to scream at him, still sobbing, “It’s a lie! He wants to bring another wife in that’s why he’s sending me out, he has another girl that he wants to marry outside.” She threw a pillow that was on the floor at him, “Useless man!”, then she hissed and lifted her box. “Eniola go and pack your clothes in a small box, let’s leave this man and his house, he can eat it”, she said eyeing him in the manner Nigerian mothers do when they’re being sarcastic.

I started to cry, went to hold my dad and knelt down, “Daddy no, please, mummy is sorry, we’re sorry, she won’t do it again, please let her stay, don’t make her go.” My sentences began to lose meaning as I started to cry profusely, “Daddy please”, but my father was not moved, rather he said, “You can follow her if you want to, sha know you’re not coming back, and you will suffer…”
“We will not suffer in Jesus’ name!”, my mom interrupted. It all felt like a dream, my parents were separating and I couldn’t do anything to stop it, it was like something had died inside of me, I couldn’t move. My mom came to pull me up, “Go and pack a few clothes in a box, we will not suffer, let’s leave him”. I obeyed her and packed a few clothes in a small box.

I could’ve stayed with my dad, but that bond between a mother and child, it’s unexplainable. I chose to go with my mom and that day, I left home.