The door opened to reveal a smiling face—the face of Mama Chibu, the village florist. Ayo’s eyes widened in surprise. Mama Chibu had lost her family in an auto crash many years ago. Years later, she opened her home to orphaned children in the village. She was always kind to everyone and the villagers loved her.  He had never stopped by her shop but when the roses became persistent, he had thought of asking her for the identity of her customers. Ayo dropped the idea because almost all the villagers patronized her on Valentine’s Day. Was she the one behind the roses and the notes? How was this possible?

In the rush, the hood slipped off—revealing Zara, the village’s deaf and mute girl. Ayo froze. Zara? She was the girl known for her gentle nature, her pleasant smiles, and the small woven baskets she sold at the market. It was also no secret that she could not read, write, or speak. So, how could she be the one leaving him roses with handwritten notes? She looked at him, her round eyes filled with uncertainty, as if she had been caught doing something forbidden. Ayo let go of her shirt and slowly took a step backwards. "Zara?" he asked, his voice softer now. "You... why have you been doing this?" She smiled at him, blinking rapidly.

Ayo hated Valentine’s Day when the world turned red and pink, became plagued by a parade of cliché love proposals, boring grand gestures and an anthem of cheesy love songs. The most annoying was the exploitative prices of chocolates and basic commodities.  He always made sure not to have anything to do with all the drama, but for the past three years, a mysterious single red rose had appeared on his doorstep every February 14th. No name. Just a perfect, fresh rose with a sealed note waiting for him. The first year, he had thought it was probably a mistake so he ignored it. The second year, he found it irritating and kicked it off his doorstep. The third year, it drove him crazy. He dumped it inside the trash can. Whoever was doing that was testing his patience, he had scoffed, angry. By the fourth year, Ayo was frustrated but curious. Yet, he didn’t let it show as he ignored the items at his doorstep and went about his day, thinking little of it. But when he got home and met it st...

The more we are filled with thoughts of lust, the less we find true romantic love. -Douglas Horton ------------- The routine of pleasuring himself while being consumed by vivid thoughts of Tricia was no longer alien to him. However, what he was beginning to find annoying was the unwavering mood dampening calm voice in his head. The intrusive voice of Ada's priest. 

                             Previously:  AFLOAT SEASON 3 E.11 Mastering others is strength, mastering yourself is true power. - Lao Tzu. -------------------- Maitama, Abuja - How could he tell her that he fell in love with her right from the first day Alex introduced her to him and their other friends. It was like a charm and from that moment his fantasies became all about Tricia.  He would frequent Alex's home just to catch a glimpse of Tricia. When Alex informed him they were having problems, he had tried to mediate between them while secretly anticipating and wishing for the day they would break up. Sadly that day seemed only to be a figment of his imagination because Alex was not ready to let go of her. 

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"Today was fun."  His voice was smooth, almost sensual and it warmed up my insides. I love this man's voice and I could listen to him speak forever. But, wait a moment. why does his voice suddenly sound different? Could it be the alcohol in my system toying with my ears or just my hormones? I reasoned with myself. "Did you hear what I said?"  He asked while his eyes held mine in search of a response... so I nodded briefly, unable to utter a word.  At that point, I had given up on trying to extinguish my fiery emotions. I was a furnace ready to ignite anything, anyone...yet, there we stood—outside my door, instead of inside, where we could let our souls harmonize to the eternal tune. Just kiss him already or go inside, you both look ridiculous just standing here at your doorstep; my mind nudged.  "Can we do this again?"  He asked while his finger gently ran down the length of my bare arm to find a resting place around my waist. Kiss me already! I wille...

It has been two years since we started dating and he was becoming more restless. He had recently complained about how my busy schedules were interfering with our relationship. That was a first because he'd never complained before. To make up for my lack of presence, I took the initiative, got the day off and convinced him to do same. I planned everything—the day off, the dinner, the fun activities. Dinner was at an expensive restaurant. 

I am from the Western part of Africa, Nigeria to be precise. I grew up speaking my mother tongue so there was no struggle of finding a cultural balance, Having friends, neighbors and people from the same ethnic didvide as mine made communication easy so I am definitely fluent and deeply grounded in the Igbo culture. However, with Nigeria or Naija being a multicultural society, I have had to learn how to speak, relate with and embrace other cultures particularly that of the three main ethnic groups.

As we celebrate the birth of Christ, may your homes be filled with love, peace and joy and your hearts with glad tidings. Merry Christmas from NIB More On NIB December to Remember  Christmas: Reasons to be Merry German Christmas Market Experience 

For most Nigerians, Christmas is a season for hosting of extravagant events, attending unending glamorous parties, indulging in expensive shopping and vacationing, engaging in social media show off of real and unreal gifts. There's also  the usual exodus to country homes and villages where huge sums of money are donated or pledged during launchings and meetings for different feasible and infeasible projects. It is always a season to "loud it" in order to be seen as the happiest person and biggest spender which is why many are wondering how we are going to celebrate Christmas in the face of the daunting hardships plaguing us. When I published the post, Recession, Christmas and You  in 2020, we all thought life was hard and survival was a feat reserved for the brave. We struggled, wept and felt it would be our last woes. Sadly, the swift movement from truly bad to worse has left us yearning for the years we dreaded. The current situation in Naija has made us to realize that...

I was patiently waiting for my number when I heard the sound. My snoozing brain rebooted and started running; I've heard that sound before, but wherefrom? It sounded like hard wood on hard polished floor.  The type of sound those wooden shoes we used to call "akpola"shoes made back in the days; my brain shared a search report.  Yes! I could remember those shoes. The same type my grand-mum and mum had back in the 60's or 70's. I know this because I saw pictures of them posing with those high wooden platform shoes and was privileged to try them on as a little girl trying to walk in my mum's shoes. They were called akpola . I think my dad had them too lol!  Who could be wearing akpola at this day and time and at the hospital of all places.  My eyes scanned the feet of those walking past me but none matched the sound which was getting closer. Suddenly, the sound stopped and instinctively, I looked up to see a tall white man with neatly trimmed grey hair. I placed...