A ROAD LESS TRAVELLED (poem)

A ROAD LESS TRAVELLED

We have become unaware

Of the presence of multitudes

Of voices that speak divergent languages-

-Of spectators whose opinions we don’t need.

We have become odd-

For what they seek

Is not what we give

And what they see

Is not who we are.

We are like a road

Less travelled,

Free of footprints

But not of essence

(c) Bura-Bari Nwilo 2015

WHAT A MAN CAN’T FORGIVE: a.v.a.g.i.n.a.s.t.o.r.y

WHAT A MAN CAN’T FORGIVE

I’m a man. I’m few years below 30. I think from 25, everything that needs to grow in the human anatomy should have approached its full height. But I’m also aware that medical conditions can be responsible for some delays or so.

But what do you think flares me up to a state of un-forgiveness? Let me give you a clue. It has to be something that punctures my ego – the manliness. And let your unclean mind wander afar, like a Nigerian opposition politician who is trying to understand where his next meal would come from.

To me, a lot could flare me up to un-forgiveness. And do I think same may flare up other men? Maybe. This is what may flare me up and lead me to un-forgiveness. It is not my weakness for fried plantain and gizzard which when taken away, I may have to take up my late grandmother’s pestle. It would definitely not be the partial or total takeover of my girlfriend. In sincerity, between man and what man believes in, I can’t forgive a large vagina in whose presence I look like a midget, especially when I was made to believe it was a less frequently travelled road.

I mean, it is not a one-way street where blames ought to be heaped on one poor soul. Either my penis is so small or the vagina is ridiculously national or global. And since I know the size of my worktool, and since I have made several consultations and I have got many testimonies that it is average, not too big and not close to being addressed as small, I feel I’ll never forgive a whale sized vagina.

Let me tell you what kills me with it. I am there, excited that I would be a conqueror, that I would drop the jeans and assist the bringing down of my partner’s and then give in my best but when its jacket is worn and the tool is inserted, and I feel lonely, like a man in a tunnel, like if I said a word is said in there it would echo and somehow I’d be lost? A large vagina must be a great turn-off for a lot of men. Maybe that’s why those who are married and have had kids with their spouses cheat. They go out to look for tighter corners where they would feel good, struggle through the sacred passage and make someone moan for real.

Sadly, a woman isn’t born with an automatic Pacific sized vagina. Na. Maybe childbirth, which I feel is the major cause and the unawareness of some women who have had babies to take care of their priceless gifts. A lot is wrong with marriage. In it people become relaxed. A man or woman, who usually shaved pubic hairs and others, barely takes good care of him/herself in marriage and then Things Fall Apart.

The vagina is quite sensitive. I understand the size may not matter but psychologically, when I log in and I can’t feel the two walls rubbing against my joystick, and the stick is like some  misappropriated N20 billion that can’t be found, I begin to sense a lot of things crumbling.

I once had an irritating sex. It was around the less developed stage of my life. So this beauty and I agreed on sex and I was offered an amazing posture. The backdoor is simply great. That was the door I was given. I had inserted and had started gaming and was almost getting exhausted when the evil chic asked if I had inserted the penis that she was not feeling anything. I fell flat in utter disbelief; was my dick so small or was the passage same as the one described in the holy book, the one that leads to Hell Avenue?

Passages ought to be moderate. I can stand befall anything but not one that swallows me. Not even love can keep me in such marriage/ union and I am sure a lady may enjoy much care too but once a joystick doesn’t stimulate a thing in her, she’d probably walk away.

Life’s too short ni.

 

Pictures from the Sand Artist

Zina Saro-Wiwa’s gallery, the Boys' Quarters Project Space occupies what used to be her father’s office on Aggrey Road in Port Harcourt. Today, the three rooms space in the two storey building play host to arts lovers, something a bit different from when Ken Saro-Wiwa worked from there. His has been business and then the politics of decrying the devastation on the environment caused by activities of oil exploration. Today, the blend of colours and light gives exhibitions an alluring feel.   

Though the inner office of the late writer’s office has been transformed slightly, the adjustment being the installation of a projector which plays themed photos, light fittings, his desk, chair and name tag are still intact – some rare antique you’d say. 

What makes an interesting visit to the gallery is the location. Just around the corner, from the Lagos Bus Stop junction is the unending fence of the Port Harcourt Prison where Mr Saro-Wiwa was detained until his eventual execution. And while in the gallery, the sometimes disturbing sound of unwanted music from shops on the busy Aggrey Road adds its own blend of colour to the beautiful pictures or crafts inside the gallery.

But Ms Saro-Wiwa’s space isn’t just a set-up in memory of her father. It is for humanity, as artists with exceptional works display them to the public. Currently on display are works by Charles Udofia – a first time exhibitionist. Mr Udofia makes portrait from sand. Yes. He gets the right type of sand and applies it tactically to form the subject of his work. 

Mr Udofia who is from Akwa Ibom State is a self-trained, no-studio artist who combines trading in a small shop where he displays his art works almost side by side with his wares. During my visit, the second since the space was opened; I met Dumnwii Fadeh, the project’s country manager. He shared his passion for the arts and matching ideas which brought him in contact with Zina. We spent time taking pictures.  

According to Fadeh, the centre has had five exhibitions which come up thrice in a year. The gallery is opened Wednesdays – Saturdays – 11am to 6pm.