I just read an article with a similar title (without the ‘Ramblings on’) as this post by Subomi Plumptre. It touched me and made me rethink several things. In addition to that, I attended a requiem Mass for someone who passed on from an accident.
Several of us have been conditioned to hold grudges without addressing them. Often we would be offended, let it fester into wounds, rot and become something worse. My siblings and I have been like that for a long while, being pacifists rather than facing issues head-on. In our cases, we are blessed to forgive and let go, but I suspect the residue of things unresolved remains in some cases. People can also easily cultivate the habit of stepping on you continuously if you are like that. Reminds me of that saying by Zora Nearle Hurston: “If you are silent about your pain, they’ll kill you and say you enjoyed it.”
However, we have been fortunate to marry into places where we are challenging that mindset of not tackling things straight. We are also learning to practically deal with it day by day because there is nothing we cannot change if we set our heart to it.
Continue reading “RAMBLING ON LIVING RENT-FREE IN PEOPLE’S HEAD – S. V. Agema”
i build memory and years wither away… I am left to start building afresh lost in sands that have become my now Su’eddie Vershima Agema (First impression of this was published in Ake Review 2016) Continue reading building to wither by su’eddie vershima agema
There is something about the depth of the artiste – it is only gotten by going into the heart of this one. Several years ago, I would marvel at the profoundness of the works of lots of literary maestros. The depth of their creative springs and reaches left me bedazzled. I started writing, churning out … Continue reading RAMBLINGS ON THE WRITER’S DEPTH
Life is one big contradiction in every field but it is more so when you are a writer—or so I think. You think you are there, you think you have the right words. You are in the moment and you bask as Mother Muse slowly pours herself unto your pages through the medium of creativity. … Continue reading RISE, LIVE TO YOUR WRITE!
I have learnt to take a few things; to embrace the tears of others, whether in joy or sadness. It has been a year like that. 2017 was. I have grown tougher, and yet, softened too. I am not the man I was at the start of that year, or the man the year left. … Continue reading A RACE WITH SELF: A NEW YEAR NOTE
He heard of her arrival the billboards shouted her to his face in every place and direction not enough, she seized signposts covering milestones travellers left wary of location in the forceful paste of her plastic smile loving… calling… She hugged trees and adorned walls her jingle on the radio the new herald of dawn … Continue reading She Came to Town by Su’eddie Vershima Agema
Today, I stand to salute a great man, whose greatness is bellowed by his utter humility. A priest, a teacher, a moulder of character. An Irish man, a priest of the other of St. Patrick’s Society – Very Rev. Fr. J. D. O’Connell, SPS, MFR. After serving as a priest of Minna Diocese for 55yrs … Continue reading All Honour for Fr J. D. O’Connell by Agatha Aduro
Pity the nation that is full of beliefs and empty of religion. Pity the nation that acclaims the bully as hero, and that deems the glittering conqueror bountiful. Pity a nation that despises a passion in its dream, yet submits in its awakening. Pity the nation that raises not its voice save when it walks … Continue reading Pity The Nation – Kahlil Gibran
(after listening to a spoken word by daisy odey) once, there was a storyteller who created fires from sparks who started each tale with ‘let there be’… a teller of many intertwining tales who told our universe to be and in that space, he killed the darkness, formed the light filled everywhere, made it bright… … Continue reading ONCE UPON A TALE OF LIFE (Versed Notes)
Maybe someday I will write that poem, of lives that mattered and lies that counted. Maybe, I will sing a song to show the beauty of the wrong that brought about this long tale that I call life. Maybe, then, it would not seem important enough, with time’s chime lost to the exigencies of what … Continue reading Maybe, a tale for Someday