Memoirs of the Memoir Blogger
The Tutor, My Father, & Us
It was one of such evenings we wished the tutor wouldn’t show up for our evening classes. The clock ticked on the wall of the children’s parlor as we waited patiently for him to arrive. The time was quarter before 4 pm so he would be coming in 15mins. I was eleven years old and…
Read MoreThe Man, His Son, and The Donkey
When I was a child, maybe about six years of age or less, whichever, I was old enough to understand that I was particularly captivated by music, but not all kinds. It was in the mid to late 80s, and for some reason, I wasn’t as fascinated by most Nigerian mainstream music at the time.…
Read MoreWell, Life…
What is Life? Is it as the concordance described it, or a tangible to be numbered, counted or predicted as willed? Is life, in fact, multiple or unchangeably a matter of one chance for one life? Levity as often fetched in the absence of reasons needed not to be a required culprit, rashly blamed for…
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